#february & my love is in another state

[asoftepiloguemylove]

hii if you can, could u pls make a webweave on solitude? like, not being lonely but loving being alone and purposely being alone yk

i hope this is what you were looking for !!

José Olivarez February & my love is in another state (via @girlfictions) / All About Lily Chou-Chou リリイ・シュシュのすべて (2001) dir. 岩井 俊二 Shunji Iwai / Henry Miller Topic of Cancer / Isabel Allende The House of the Spirits (via @fromdarzaitoleeza) / pinterest / Franz Kafka from a diary entry dated July 1, 1913 (via @dailykafka) / Michel de Montaigne The Complete Essays

[deer-in-headlights-stare]

another one 👍

[ctl-yuejie]

love this system that is like "oh you work for 2 years while we barely pay you - it's not called a wage for a reason, duh - have you come to class and write an exam every week but in class - just for funsies - we won't actually teach you what you need to know for the exams but a lot of practical stuff which doesn't apply for your work because that is way more specialized"

glad i can skip the classes since i moved outside of town for this part. while i have to teach everything to myself, everyone in class is non the wiser and at least i don't lose the hours.

[havingapoemwithyou]

february & my love is in another state by José Olivarez

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞! | genshin males x gn!reader

「 "𝐡𝐞𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫!"」

— in which you give him chocolates before he attempts to give you his??

— fluff. highschool!au but built like a shoujo manga lmao ... happy valentine's day ~ ♡ another fic will be going out tomorrow :)

THOMA, albedo, ayato, alhaitham, childe, KAVEH, HEIZOU, VENTI, GAMING, CHONGYUN, KAZUHA, wriothesley, tighnari, freminet, lyney ♡

Calling yourself a "romantic" person would be quite a stretch.

Saying Valentine's was your favorite day of the year would be even worse.

Sure, sure, you'd heard plenty of things, from the nagging old man manning the grocery store, always red in the face from regular swigs of cheap liquor, or the seemingly never endless musings from your classmates, swooning and fainting every moment anyone, or more specifically, the leads starring in those dramas of theirs, did anything remotely affectionate.

Young, innocent love, while a splendid thing, for someone like you, your really only option was to endlessly pine after someone who would certainly not return your affections.

The recipient of such foolish affections? That much was obvious. What a rather hopeless person, you were.

At the very least, he seemed to enjoy your presence. A smile would adorn his lips, and he'd always meet your gaze with his familiar greeting of, "Good morning, did you sleep well?"

Fuck, you hated how such a simple line, questioning of your wellbeing, could tug at your heartstrings so effortlessly. The man was playing you like a fiddle, and a part of you didn't try to resist that.

So the moment February 14th rolled itself around, bearing promises of youthful laughter, baby cupids, hearts, and sweets, you tried not to pay heed to the extra weight of chocolates in your school bag.

Had you stayed up late making them just the right sweetness, making sure they were perfectly heart-shaped?

Yes. As stated previously, you were truly hopeless.

"Ah, good morning." Wow, look at you, taking the initiative to greet someone? Truly, a day of magic and wonder! You're almost jump scared at the sight of him in your classroom, just what the fuck was he doing here? He leaned against the doorway, looking terribly pretty in the morning lighting.

This was not doing wonders to your heart.

Upon seeing you, he straightened his posture, looking suspiciously sheepish with an extra non-characteristic, flusteredness on his features. "You're here early today."

"It's Valentine's." That's all you managed to sputter out with that tied tongue of yours.

"Yes, and?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly, not entirely convinced, and followed you to your seat like some sort of lost puppy.

Your brain raced to find a rationale he'd deem reasonable. "Uhm, ah... my friend... is planning to confess to a guy, so I had to come early and help her... set up the place she's planning to do so at?"

"I see... ah," His eyes lit up like he had thought of something. "Are you free after school? We should meet up afterward, so you can tell me how it went...?"

"Yes!" You responded a little too quickly, and cussing yourself out in you head, you corrected it. "Ahem- yes, I'd like that." The burning feeling that arose on your face was starting to become too prominent to ignore.

He didn't seem to pay it any mind, and instead beamed in a close-eyed smile. "Perfect. Then, I'll see you?" You were to bid him goodbye, but he ran off before you could even utter a sound, leaving you rather dumbfounded, blank-faced and still feeling the tingling warmth on your cheeks.

Holy shit, is this my chance?? You’d made chocolates on the eensiest, weensiest off chance that you might grow bold enough to hand it to him, even if under the pretense of “as friends”, but with the violent way your heart was pounding in your chest, you didn’t think avoidance would be an option.

Ahaha, you were making a mistake, weren’t you?

Only one way to find out.

The rest of the day went by as predicted. Fanatic screams and a wave of crazed people chasing after the more popular figures of the school, throwing boxes of chocolates and bouquets of roses... hey, wasn't this a safety hazard? There were other screams too - but not of excitement, but terror as a man was crushed and trampled under a wave of love-sick girls chasing after the popular boy in class 2-A.

You just hoped that he wouldn't sue the school. The place was already cutting enough corners when it came to the monstrosity of cafeteria food.

The bell rang, signaling your freedom, and you massaged your shoulders with a sigh. You'd survived, somehow. As you stepped out the door, a ding from your phone alerted you with a text, and as you lit up the screen, the corner of your lips unconsciously turned upwards into a soft smile.

hot guy <3 - don't forget.

hot guy <3 - ill be waiting for you

Stepping into his classroom, you scanned your surroundings for the familiar sight of the man. Low and behold, there he was, sat upon, presumably, his desk, and staring out the window like some main character. You walked over, trying your best to disregard the clamminess of your fingers - or more specifically, the hand that was holding your homemade chocolates hidden safely(?) away behind your back. His features brightened at the sight of you, and he swung his legs, ushering you over to share the view with him.

"Sorry, did you wait long?" You sheepishly grinned as he scooted to the side to give you space to sit down next to him. As you did so, you were made painfully aware of how his body was still pressed up against yours. “I almost got trampled on my way here, not a pretty sight.”

“...Pretty sight?” He echoed his words, tilting his head as he pondered, the slightest curve of a smile tugging at his lips. “You?”

“W-What? No, I-” You cleared your throat before he could say another word, trying to dispel the blush on your features. Naturally, you failed to do so. “What kind of things are you saying now? Just who’d you learn that from?”

“Haa? What do you mean, learned? I just said the truth, that’s all…”

God, he was so adorable. This man had definitely run off with your heart.

Now or never, you supposed. Standing upwards abruptly, you pulled out the heart-shaped box of chocolates you’d been hiding behind your back the entire time, visibly trembling as you held it outwards.

“Will you be my valentine?”

It took him the count of three to respond, his eyes round and doe-like. He blinked rapidly, and then his cheeks flushed - not with his usual cheeriness, but a red that definitely spoke of flusteredness. “H-Hey, that's no fair…”

“...What?” Damn, was this your rejection? You had expected as much, but-

“I was supposed to give you chocolates first, y’know…”

And just like that, the familiar boy before you reached beside him into the darkly lit space and pulled out his own box of chocolates, lightly colored and wrapped beautifully in shimmering golden ribbon. “It took me so long to do this, and yet…”

“Holyfuckingshitwhat.” The curses flew from your mouth, condensed into a single word. “W- H- Y-You… You got chocolates for me?”

Now this was a first. Seeing his cheeks and tips of his ears all rosy, and seeing him all kicked-puppy-like. He nodded slowly, “Mhm… But, this is good too!”

He likes me.

He likes me.

He likes me.

Hoooooly shit.

“Ah, oh no, I didn’t give you an answer, did I?” His usually soft eyes now filled with panic. “Don't tell me I'm too late, I’ll be your valentine!”

The chocolates, surely, would be sweet. But the sensation of your lips meeting his, the undeniable warmth he bestowed upon you — it was sweeter than anything. ♡

(a/n) lmao guess what. i got sick again. i was sick last month and i mfucking sick and dying again and the only thing saving me is shitty couhg medicine that doesn't even work and like expired coughdrops my couhgdrop supply is running low and oh god i don't THINK IM GOINNA MAKE IT-

hahah anyways remember when i said id come back. well . guess what. ive been working on original works for a while now, but the delulu has indeed returned ( for longer than a week this time, hopefully )

i did work on some stuff during my inactivity! the post will probably be out tomorrow, but please don't be upset if i push the date back :)

anyways whipped up this quick drabble so all of you could be well fed on valentines. remember that its okay to be single on this day, and that there are plenty of other people out there like you. there is no shame in being single, and i love every one of you ! mwah <33

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader, @fiannee, @aether-darling, @solxima, @sangoqueenkoko, @haliyamori

[shuadotcom]

143 Miles (M)

💞Pairing: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

💞Summary: You and your boyfriend decide to change up your Valentine’s Day plans this year, so you plan a two-week getaway - or a “love vacation” as Seungcheol calls it. With each destination, you fall more and more in love with each other and it may just be your best Valentine’s Day yet.

💞Genres & AUs: Fluff, smut, established relationship au, road trip au

💞Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

💞Warnings: Profanity, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, pet names (baby, sweetheart, baby girl), big dick!Cheol

💞Words: 5k

💞Note: Here’s my fic for the Cupid For You Fic Exchange hosted by @svthub! Happy Valentine’s Day to my lovely valentine @gyuwoncheol !! 💘 I hope you enjoy my beloved Paula!!!!! 😘 ❤️

Thank you to my girlies @horanghater and @onlymingyus - Bambi for always coming in clutch as my beta and Mars for the beautiful banner!! 💕

“Okay, on the count of three,” Seungcheol declares once you’re both back in the car. “One…two…three!”

You reach into the bag in your lap and dramatically present the trinket to your boyfriend. He bursts into a fit of laughter upon seeing the small smiling frog donned in a cowboy hat resting in the palm of your hand. You quickly notice that he’s holding the same figurine. You join in with him, the two of you cackling in the front seat of the car together. You’re sure anyone walking would think the two of you look deranged, but neither pays that any mind.

“Well, guess this means we’re tied this round,” you manage when you finally collect yourselves.

“Yeah, but I’m still winning,” Seungcheol boasts, taking the frog from you and putting both away in the backseat.

“By one point!”

“A win is a win,” your boyfriend shrugs, grinning widely at you. You concede and start the car, somehow forgetting how competitive your boyfriend can be, even over something as silly as a game of who can buy the other the most ridiculous gas station souvenir. You’re on day three of your cross-country road trip and Seungcheol’s souvenir picks have been just a little sillier than yours. He’s simply lucky is all.

It was his idea to do something different this Valentine’s Day. You and Seungcheol have been together for almost five years and every year in February you’ve done the same thing when it comes to Valentine’s Day. You usually go out on a date somewhere, always a fancy romantic lunch or dinner, and then an activity such as a movie or a trip to the amusement park. Neither of you are ungrateful about the time you spend together, of course. You love one another and anything you do will be enjoyable if you’re together. Your dates are always full of nothing but shared love and admiration for each other. You love Valentine’s Day and celebrate it by spreading more love than usual to your boyfriend and he loves doing the same, but you both wanted to change it up this year, so when Seungcheol brought up going on a road trip, you wasted no time in agreeing.

Initially, you thought about driving from Seoul down to Mokpo, but that is only a 4-hour drive at most and didn’t feel like enough of a trip. That’s why Seungcheol brought up something that was once on his bucket list: fly to the US and then drive to the other side of it and back. He mentioned that it was something he’d always seen in American teen movies growing up and he always thought it looked fun and like a way to get even closer to the people you care about. And since you’re the person he’s closest to and cares about the most, he wouldn’t want to do this with anyone but you.

It didn’t take you much convincing either. You can never say no to a good road trip, so you both took time off work at the beginning of February, packed your suitcases, and booked a flight to New York. From there, you rented a car - a BMW to be exact, at your boyfriend’s insistence. (“It’s our love vacation! We have to drive in luxury!”) Then start your journey to Washington, planning to stop at as many states in between as you can.

You’ve finally made it into New Mexico with the end goal of getting to Las Vegas to stay for a night. Neither of you had many goals for where you would stay or what you’d do when you got to every state and are just winging it. It’s more fun that way.

Well, except when it comes to your souvenirs. You decide to stop at a gas station in each state for the wildest souvenir you can find after you unearth an Empire State Building-shaped mood ring right before you leave New York. It’s an extremely impractical shape and you demand that he put it on as soon as you leave.

Once you get back onto the highway Seungcheol fiddles with his phone, making sure his Bluetooth is connected.

The familiar first notes of  “Sugar We’re Going Down” by Fall Out Boy start and your mouth quirks up into a smile. Every time it’s your turn to drive on the trip, Seungcheol insists on playing the playlist of your favorite songs that he made for you. The gesture still makes you feel warm at how thoughtful he always is, even when it comes to the little things.

Drumming your fingertips on the steering wheel, you relax in your seat. Seungcheol turns the volume up and rolls down his window just a bit. The February air is a little crisp, but not too cold. As soon as Patrick starts belting over the speakers, you join in, singing the song word-for-word as you go. Other than talking and playing silly road games, a favorite of both of yours has been using the car as your karaoke room. 

Both of you have more than enough playlists to never run out of a soundtrack to your drive and you’re not shy about singing around one another. For the first few hours at the start of the drive, you had nearly gotten a sore throat from how serious you were at road trip karaoke. You were only missing a tambourine and the typical multi-colored karaoke laser lights.

The drive to Nevada will take nine hours, so you do half of that drive, and that whole time you and your boyfriend sing your hearts out on the way. Every once in a while, he reaches over to feed you a chocolate at your request for a snack. He makes sure that his finger grazes your lip or your teeth each time, chuckling when you nip at his digits or place tiny kisses on them. Little moments like this with Seungcheol make your heart even more full, which you didn’t think was possible, yet here you are - falling more and more in love with him each simple moment like this.

When Paramore comes on shuffle, Seungcheol goes all out during “Ain’t It Fun,” doing all of the ad-libs and being the guitar and the drums. At this point, you’ve made it more into town and hit a stoplight after passing nothing but dirt and rocks.

It gives you a chance to look at him, admiring the way his dark hair falls in his eyes - the eyes that turn into half moons when he smiles wide and laughs loudly. You can’t help but swoon over the giggle he lets out when he notices you watching him put on a solo concert, his dimple making its appearance and you want nothing more than to lean over and kiss it. And then kiss him on his lips that you know are so soft and warm and made perfectly to fit against yours like a puzzle piece.

So you do. You lean over the console quickly when he turns to you again and gives you a closed-mouth smile. Seungcheol lets out a noise of surprise, but gladly accepts the kiss, his hand reaching to cup your chin as your lips move slowly against his.

A honk from the car behind you makes you spring apart and then you remember where you are and see the green of the stoplight in front of you, indicating that you’ve got to focus on the road again. Seungcheol reaches over to take your hand as you start driving again, placing a kiss on the top of it, keeping it in his hold as you continue, both of you getting back to your playlist and the road ahead. You can’t help the way your heart swells and you almost don’t want this moment to end. You would travel around the world and back if it meant you could do it with Seungcheol.

When the sun sets on your journey, Seungcheol has always insisted that even if it’s not his turn, he’ll do the driving. He’s halfway through the state of Arizona when it gets darker and he’s behind the wheel. You didn’t stay in New Mexico long, only stopping to refuel and make sure to see what that gas station has to offer in the form of trinkets. Not much, as it turns out, but you manage to win this round of your game when you snag a keychain with an alien riding a donkey while all Seungcheol finds is a pen in the shape of a chili pepper with a mustache. He couldn’t not give you that point even if he tried to argue with you just a little about it.

Seungcheol hums along to his music, keeping it low enough not to disturb you while you try to sleep. He passes a mountain range, briefly admiring how the moonlight shines on the red rocks surrounding you. His attention quickly gets diverted to you when you turn in your seat to face him. You have the smallest pout on your lips and your eyebrows are scrunched up the tiniest bit. Cheol knows how hard it is for you to fall asleep in the car, but he still makes you try so you can get rest.

His eyes focus on the road, but he can’t help but steal glances at you and your cute expression. Not only does the moonlight bounce off of the nature around, but it also does the same to your face. It highlights your cheeks that he loves to pinch, your nose that he loves to boop, and your perfect lips that he loves to kiss. Your facial muscles relax when you seem to slip into a state of rest finally and the sight of your expression that he can only describe as angelic has his stomach doing flips. 

It’s been almost five years and every single day that he gets to look at you, he counts just how lucky he is to call you his. From the moment he met you, you occupied space in Seungcheol’s mind, and to this day, over everything else in his life that swirls around in his brain, he always comes back to you. Your face, your voice, your body, your everything. You are everything to him and he’ll tell you every single day for the rest of your lives.

“I love you, so much,” He whispers as one of your favorite songs plays through the car and you stir, just a little. 

Look at the stars, look how they shine for you. And everything you do.

A smile tugs at the corner of his as he glances your way again. The stars, the moon, the sun, all of it truly does shine for you and only you - his whole world.

When your phone’s calendar reads February 14th, you and Seungcheol finally make it to Las Vegas and you decide to treat yourselves to a fancier hotel. Instead of the usual 3-star hotels (and a few seedy motels) you stayed at along the trip, Seungcheol finds the nicest hotel that the two of you can afford. You even get so lucky as to somehow snag the honeymoon suite. “It is our love vacation after all,” being his reason yet again. 

You definitely don’t complain when you walk into the room and kick your shoes off, immediately taken aback at just how fancy and spotless everything in the room looks. The bed is the biggest you think you’ve ever seen and is covered in rose petals. The large window across the room overlooks the city of Las Vegas, the neon lights brightening up the room before you even turn the lights on. The furniture looks modern and clean and the room even smells fresh yet sweet. You can’t place the scent of the air freshener, but you love it nonetheless.

“Holy shit, this is the nicest hotel room I’ve ever been in!” You marvel, running and plopping onto the large bed. The bed is big enough for you to starfish comfortably on and you start making comforter angels, Seungcheol laughing as he flops next to you. 

“Only the best for my girl,” he hums, squeezing your socked feet, forcing a sigh out of you.

“Damn, I’m so sore.”

“Well if you’re interested, there’s a more comfortable place for your sore spots.”

You lift your head to look at Cheol and follow where his finger is pointing. There’s a half wall across the room made of decorative swirls of metal that you can see straight through. On the other side sits a large jacuzzi bathtub.

“Is that our tub?!” You spring up from the bed and rush over, eyes widening at the size. 

Seungcheol comes up behind you while you’re admiring, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you close. “That definitely looks like our very own giant, two-people-sized tub.”

“Looks like it has jets too.” Your hands rest atop his, fingers threading together.

“I think I even see some bubble bath on the counter over there.” Lips meet the back of your neck, your eyes fluttering closed at the sensation.

“Hmm, how about I get the bath going and you grab the bottle of champagne chilling in that bucket by the bed? Then we can order room service. I’d love some good sushi.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Seungcheol punctuates his sentence with a final light kiss on your neck. You have to quite literally peel yourself from him, but you manage it as the two of you split up.

It only takes a few minutes for him to grab the bottle along with the two glasses and for you to get the bath running. As soon as the water is warm and bubbly, you and Seungcheol shed your clothes on the floor as you each slip into the tub with you sitting between his legs. He manages to find the button that powers the tub, the jets hitting you at all sides, including your outstretched feet.

You relax into the water, tilting your head back, and resting on Seungcheol’s shoulder.

“I have some bad news for you, Cheol.”

“What is it?” 

“I think I must pass away here, just like this.”

Your boyfriend breathes out a laugh behind you, wrapping you in his arms again.

“You’re telling me you’d just up and leave me like that? And to stay with a bathtub no less!” You can hear the pout in Cheol’s voice and it makes you giggle.

“It’s nothing personal, baby, but I mean you can’t produce jet streams of soothing water.” 

“Hmmm. That may be true, but I can do this.”

Seungcheol’s fingers dance up the front of your body, gently cupping your breasts and squeezing. His fingers tweak your nipples in between gropes, making you let out a surprised moan. 

You practically melt into Seungcheol’s chest as he plays with your sensitive buds and your eyes flutter closed.

Soft moans fall from your lips as your head lolls to the side, Seungcheol using the opportunity to latch his lips to the side of your neck. His teeth scrape over your skin, nipping and biting along the way. 

Seungcheol has always loved to mark you. He loves leaving not only signs to others that you’re his, but every hickey and every bruise is a little reminder that he’s the one who makes you feel good and he’s the one that you always come home to at the end of the day. Not that you need a reminder because you’ll always come back to Seungcheol no matter what.

You count at least two reminders now, one on the side of your neck and another at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His fingers never leave your nipples, the stimulation already making you nothing but putty in his hands. If you weren’t in the tub you’re sure you’d be making a mess of whatever panties you would be wearing.

Your boyfriend trails kisses from your shoulder, up your neck, to your ear, and lands on your cheek, peppering your face with a few more kisses. His plush, slightly chapped lips kiss any spot he can reach as his hands trail down from your waist to your thighs. Seungcheol opens your legs wide and shifts you both around in the tub. The moment the jet across from your body hits your clit, you let out a shriek and Seungcheol knows he’s positioned you the way he wants to.

The tub jet feels like heaven coupled with Seungcheol’s relentless hands that are back on your tits, cupping and squeezing in the perfect way you need it.

“Ngh, Cheol!”

“Hmm? What is it, baby?”

“F-fuck. I need you.”

“You need me? But didn’t you say a little while ago that you wanted to stay with the tub since it has jets? Aren’t you enjoying the jets right now?” His tone is smug yet teasing, warm breath hitting your ear and making you shiver.

“Cheol, please!” you pout at him, doing your best to beg in between whines.

“Oh, so you do need me, huh?”

“Yes!”

“And what is it that you need, sweetheart?”

Seungcheol tugs at one of your nipples harshly, making you jolt. You feel so close to cumming already, but you do your best to hold off. You want to cum around Seungcheol’s cock or even his fingers - something, anything of his.

You voice this to your boyfriend, choking and stumbling over your words along the way. Seungcheol’s gaze is heavy as he peers down at you, enjoying how you squirm and wiggle in his hold. Your head is resting on his shoulder as you look up at him, batting your eyelashes and pouting extra hard. He loves it when he can see how needy you are for him and how much you want him. He especially loves all of the noises you make for him - the pants and the moans and the whispers of his name. 

He needs to hear more from your pretty lips, and he knows exactly how to do that.

With a smirk, one of Seungcheol’s hands releases your tit and trails between your legs. The tip of a finger taps against your clit, an embarrassing moan tumbling out of you in response. 

The thick digit slides into your eager pussy and it takes everything in you not to sob at the feeling. Seungcheol crooks his finger as he pistons his hand and the heel of his palm knocks against your clit each time. You practically dissolve into his hold while his other hand plays with your nipple, your brain already turning to mush at all of these sensations combined.

“Fuck, sweetheart, listen to you. You sound so fucking pretty.”

“C-Cheol…”

“God I love it when you say my name. I wanna hear it again,” Seungcheol slips another finger into you, and you yelp out his name again without even thinking about it. His pace quickens, fucking you with his fingers as quickly as the bubbly water around you will allow. 

“Yes! Please don’t stop, Cheol, please!”

“Mm, I won’t, baby. Want you to cum for me. Come on, pretty girl, let go for me.” Seungcheol’s voice is so deep that you practically feel it in the pit of your stomach. The pads of his fingers digging into your sweet spot, the jet from the tub still pelting your clit each time his hand moves, and his hard cock digging into your lower back are enough to have your world tilting and your orgasm knocking into you as soon as he tells you to let go. 

Your body stiffens as you cum, the shrill sound of his name that you let out sounds too loud in your ears, but Seungcheol eats it up. He curses under his breath, telling you another handful of times how pretty you sound and how beautiful you look falling apart for him. 

Seungcheol caresses your cheek and chin as you come down and when your breathing seems to steady, he tilts your face back and kisses you. His lips meld with yours, kissing you as if he’ll never get the chance again, making you even dizzier.

His tongue prods at the seam of your lips and when you let him in, he swallows up all of the desperate little sounds you puff out. He pulls back from your lips suddenly so he can help you turn around in his lap. The water in the tub sloshes as you get comfortable facing him and straddling his waist. 

Neither of you wants to waste any more time, the carnal desire to have Seungcheol inside of you is a mutual feeling.

The head of Seungcheol’s swollen cock prods at your sensitive folds, whimpers falling from your lips as you start to sink onto his length. His hands hold your hips as you lower until he’s completely sheathed between your wet walls. You and Seungcheol have had sex more times throughout your relationship than you think you can feasibly count, and each and every time the stretch is familiar but always succeeds in taking your breath away. 

“Shit, Cheol…”

“Feel good, baby? My fat cock stretching you out?” Seungcheol grunts between clenched teeth. 

“Yes, s-so good, Cheollie.” 

“You’re still so fucking tight, baby.” He winces when he feels your walls twitch, squeezing his dick and momentarily making him speechless. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

With Seungcheol’s grip tight on your hips, he helps you lift a little, letting his cock slip nearly all the way out before you slam back down and he’s shoved inside of you to the hilt. You share a groan as he helps you ride him, finding a steady rhythm. The water around you continues to splash, but he only moves you in his lap faster. 

Your head falls back as you alternate between bouncing on his cock and swiveling your hips, letting out curses and calls of his name. Seungcheol bucks his hips up to meet your movements, fucking up into you as much as he can in the slippery tub.

“Shit, you look so beautiful like this. You were made to take my cock, you know that, baby? This pussy was made for me.”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck!” His compliments only spur you on, your fingernails digging into the thick skin of his shoulders as you grind on him. Your thighs are starting to burn, but you ignore it. The feeling of your boyfriend’s girth driving up into you over and over makes you feel floaty, everything around you fading away. The only thing you feel and the only thing you know is Seungcheol and his hands on your moist skin, his lips sucking bruises onto your tits, and his dick kissing your g-spot with each harsh thrust.

Seungcheol knows your body better than anyone, so he knows when you’re going to cum. He notices the frantic cries, the way your body shakes, and that far-away look in your eyes.

“Gonna cum for me, beautiful?”

“Y-yes, fuck yes.”

“That’s right, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me. Can you do that?”

“Mmhmm! I’m so close, Cheollie!”

“I know, baby girl, I know,” Seungcheol moans against your chest, burying his head in between your tits as he drives his hips up so hard, you almost lose your balance. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “I’m close too, fuck - gonna fill you up. Can you handle that, baby girl?”

“A-always! I can a-always handle y-you, baby,” you gasp out, your stomach tightening and your body buzzing the closer you get.

Seungcheol keeps one arm around you while the other snakes in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit without even having to try. The stimulation shocks you and has you mumbling gibberish, a mix of your boyfriend’s name and pleading words. Your fingers slide up and into his dark locks, threading your fingers through the brunette strands and tugging, making him growl into your skin.

“Please, fuck, Cheol I’m gonna cum!” 

“I love you so much baby,” Seungcheol nearly explodes right on the spot with how your gummy walls clench around him again, but he manages to hold off. “Cum for me, sweetheart…” He nips at the side of your breast and applies more dizzying pressure to your clit.

“I l-love you too! I’m cum - fuck!” Your words are cut off with a scream as you tumble right over the edge, cumming harder than you did the first time, tears pricking the edge of your eyes.

Seungcheol lets go right after you, his face still in your chest as he holds you close, moaning out words of pleasure, love, and admiration about you and how you feel like “literal fucking heaven” and how you’re his and his only. Seungcheol pumps you full of him, his warm seed dripping from your throbbing pussy and mixing with the remaining bubbles around you. Somewhere in between his pussy-drunk babbles your ears pick up something about making you his wife.

You both stay where you are for a few minutes, your fingers lazily raking through his hair as he keeps you close to him, placing small, closed-mouth kisses on your hot skin.

“I love you so much,” he mumbles, letting out a sigh as his hand, still between your bodies, moves to rest on your thigh.

“I love you too, Cheol,” you sigh back, a drunken-post orgasm smile on your lips. Even through your haze, you didn’t forget what he said. “Did you…did you mean what you said?” you whisper out, hoping he knows what you’re referring to.

“Which part?” His question sounds calm, but you notice the way his fingers on your thigh press into your skin a little harder.

“The part about making me your wife?” A fraction of a second of silence hangs between you both and part of you starts to panic. What if he only meant it at the moment? You’ve had fleeting conversations about one day being married, but it was always lighthearted and more in a “one day we will” way.

When Seungcheol finally answers you, it’s in the form of a sigh. Wordlessly, he lifts you from his softening cock and untangles your limbs, sitting you down in the tub. 

“I didn’t want to do this now or like this, but I can’t hold it anymore. Especially not when you ask me and look at me like that.” He steps out of the tub, giving you another look before sticking his feet in his complimentary hotel slippers and shuffling into the main part of the room. 

You watch him rummage around in his suitcase before he comes back to the tub and kneels on the bath mat, facing you. You immediately spot the red velvet box in his hands and you gasp, tears immediately gathering in your eyes.

“I wanted to do this when we got to Washington and say some cheesy words about seeing the world with you and traveling everywhere with you for the rest of our lives, but I can’t wait any longer. Y/n Y/l/n, will you do me the honor of being my forever Valentine and be my wife?” The emerald stone of the ring shines back at you, surrounded by small diamonds on a gold band.

“Yes! Of course I will, Cheol!” you sob, tears blurring your vision as he plucks the ring from the box and slips it onto your finger, placing a kiss on your knuckle after it’s securely on. 

Seungcheol cups your face with both hands as he leans forward and kisses you. The kiss is soft and warm and you can just feel the love that Choi Seungcheol holds for you in his heart seep out. His love overtakes you, your heart feeling more full than you think it’s ever been.

“I love you so much, Y/n.” he sighs when he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours.

“I love you too, Seungcheol. So fucking much.”

Your boyfriend fiance smiles widely at you, his own eyes red-rimmed with potential tears as he scans your face. “I can’t wait to officially make you my wife. And you know, if you want, we are in Vegas so we could technically make it official tonight.”

With a sniffle, you shake your head. “Patience, my love. We can worry about all that wedding stuff when we get home. Let’s just focus on us and this, and right now.” 

He pouts dramatically before kissing your forehead. “Fine, I’ll wait.”

“Good boy,” you giggle, watching the way his eyes darken at your playful praise. “Now, how about we actually open that champagne and order room service? I’m still craving sushi badly.”

With a chuckle Seungcheol nods, standing as goes back into the room to look for the room service menu.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart. We have all night to eat anything you want to order.” 

“Good, because if they have good pizza I want that later too. Oh! Or maybe kimchi jeon if they happen to have that!” Seungcheol chuckles at your enthusiasm as he comes back with the menu. 

Before you order, he helps you out of the tub when you complain about the water going cold. Dinner is put on hold again when you decide that a warm shower in the luxurious shower stall in the bathroom should come first before you get comfortable for the evening.

In between the warm water cascading over you and Seungcheol helping wash your back, you end up bent over the bench in the shower, Seungcheol slipping into your still-aching cunt again. 

As your fiance makes you cry out around him yet again, somewhere between the moans and grunts, you’re both able to whisper “I love you” and “Happy Valentine's Day” when you share another blissful orgasm. 

Tomorrow you’ll be back on the road and back to making the rounds for silly souvenirs, but tonight it’s all about you and Seungcheol and this moment right here. You can’t wait to have many, many more Valentine’s Days with the love of your life.

Permanent Taglist: @aaniag

Net Tags: @kflixnet @kbookshelf

[sturniozo]

Valentine’s Day

Chris Sturniolo x Reader

NOT PROOFREAD

WARNING unprotected sex, p in v, smutty smutty smut smut, I think that’s it

Masterlist

February 14. Today’s date is February 14. Valentine’s day. Chris and my’s first Valentine’s Day as a couple. Sure, we’ve spent many together just as friends with secret crushes on each other, but this time it’s real. This time we’re actually together and not just spending time together since we’re both single on this day.

I scroll through Instagram on my phone, looking at all my friends with their partners in their new posts. Heart chocolates and little candies with cute stuffed animals, or a romantic dinner date.

I bite my lip as I go back to the message Chris sent me earlier.

“Don’t plan a date for us today. I already got one planned.”

I rack my brain for what it could be. Romantic dinner? Movie? Something romantic, probably. Chris always goes all out for our dates. Even our first date ten months ago. He had laid blankets and pillows outside his house, and pointed a projector to the side of his house for us to watch movies in the dark together. He had made all our favorite snacks and ordered from our favorite take out place.

I snap out of my thoughts as another text from Chris chimes in. “Dress however you want but make sure it’s something you’ll be comfortable sitting in for a long time. I’ll come get you in an hour. Love you.”

I text a quick “love you too.” I know that by him coming to get me, he really means Matt will come get me. I giggle at the thought. Chris knows I can drive myself but he always says it’ll spoil the date if I drive myself and that he should come get me.

I decide to wear something in the holiday spirit. A pink long sleeve off the shoulder crop top, covered with red hearts, and a pair of light blue jean shorts. I slip on some pink heels and do a quick makeup look that matches my outfit.

I smile at myself in the mirror once I’m done. I flip my hair over my shoulders and stand up from my desk to head downstairs and wait for Matt to come get me. As if on queue, there’s a knock on my door. I grab my handbag and the gift I got Chris for today, and shut off the lights, heading out the door to see Chris standing there, smiling and waiting for me.

“Wow, you look amazing baby.” He says to me. I smile and blush, then kiss him on the cheek.

“This is for you, babe.” I say and hand him the gift.

“Oh, princess.” Chris smiles as he opens the box. He pulls out the necklace, a silver chain with a pendant with our initials and our anniversary, that’s been coated in my regular perfume. “This is amazing, baby.” He kisses my cheek. “Usually I’d be the one to get you jewelry though.” He laughs as he puts the necklace on.

Matt honks the horn of the car. “He’s impatient.” I laugh.

“He’s just mad that I have a girl to spend Valentine’s Day with and he doesn’t.” Chris laughs. He waves at Matt and then puts his hand around the small of my back. “Let’s not keep him waiting.” Chris says as he leads me to the car. He opens the door for me and I get in, him getting in after.

Matt mumbles something under his breath as he backs out of my driveway. Chris laughs. “What did you say?” He asks.

“How can you keep a girl when you have your brother driving you for your dates?” Matt says.

I giggle. “It’s no bother to me.”

Matt scoffs. “It’s a bother to me.”

“Can’t be much of a bother.” Chris says. “You’re still driving us around.”

“Y/n can drive, I don’t understand why I have to do this.” Matt whines

“It wouldn’t be romantic if I had Y/N drive herself.” Chris states.

“Oh, yeah and this is romantic?” Matt asks.

“It’s a lot more romantic when you don’t complain.” Chris tells Matt. Matt scoffs and Chris laughs and he puts his arm around my shoulders.

“So what do you have planned?” I ask him.

“It’s a surprise.” He whispers back to me before kissing my temple.

“Are we going somewhere?” I ask.

Chris laughs. “I’m not telling you anything.”

“We’re going back to the house.” Matt says.

“Matt, come on.” Chris says.

“She’d find out in point two seconds. We’re ten feet away from the driveway.” Matt says before we pull into the driveway.

“This is our first Valentine’s Day together, I want this to be perfect. Don’t ruin it.” Chris snaps at Matt.

“Whatever.” Matt mumbles as he gets out of the car.

Chris rolls his eyes, opening the car door on the other side that we entered in. He helps me out of the car. “You look beautiful, by the way.” He says to me.

I smile up at him and kiss his cheek. “You’re so sweet baby.” I say back. “What’s the date?”

Chris laughs. “You’ll see soon, let’s go.” He takes my hand and leads me into the house. He opens the door for me and leads me to his bedroom.

On his bed lays a giant stuffed bear, covered with multiple heart shaped boxes of chocolates. Rose petals cover the bed, along with strawberry candies and heart cut outs of red paper.

“Oh my god, Chris did you do this?” I ask.

Chris smiles. “Don’t look so surprised.” He says. “You act like I’m not capable of treating my girl right.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” I laugh and playfully hit his arm.

Chris closes the door then pulls my arm and leads me to the bed. He sits me down on the bed, him standing in-front of me. “You look so pretty today.” He mumbles.

“Did you really do all this just to fuck?” I laugh.

Chris laughs. “No, I had a movie date planned. But I’m not opposed to-“

“Movie date?” I ask.

“Yeah. A movie date. Me and you, cuddling on the bed and watching your favorite movies while I feed you chocolates.” He says as he runs his fingers through my hair.

“That’s sounds amazing.” I say. I scoot back wards on the bed and curl up next to the giant teddy bear. It’s bigger than both Chris and I combined when we cuddle. “Where are you gonna sit?” I ask, cuddling up to the bear.

“The bears not taking my place next to you.” Chris says as he climbs on the bed, nearly squishing me as he holds me close to him.

“I’m sleeping with him.” I giggle and squirm away from Chris to cuddle with the bear.

“Sleeping with him?” Chris repeats.

“Not like that!” I laugh.

“He’s not gonna be able to fuck you like I do.” Chris says as he pulls me back to him. “You’d be doing most of the work.”

I only laugh in response.

“You’d have to be on top, which I know you love, but still not all the time. You’d have to sit on his face for him to eat you out.”

“Jealous?” I laugh.

“Of him, yeah. Apparently he’s fucking my girl.”

“It’s a stuffed bear, Chris.” I laugh.

“I’d be jealous if you sat on his face.” Chris says, ignoring me. “You never sit on mine.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” I shrug.

“It won’t hurt me. Come on, I beg for it all the time.”

“I could suffocate you!”

“It’s an honorable way to die. The best way. It’s the way I want to go.” He says.

“I’m not gonna kill you by sitting on your face.” I laugh.

Chris gives me his best pouty face complete with puppy dog eyes. “Maybe not kill me now, but it’s how I want to go in the end.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Come on. When I’m 80 and on my deathbed, what better way to die then by my wife sitting on my face.”

“I’m not sitting in your face when we’re 80.”

Chris pouts again. “My girlfriend hates me.”

“You’re such a child.” I laugh. I rub my fingers through his hair. “If it means that much to you I’ll do it. But you have to be dying already with no way to recover.”

“Deal.”

“And that’s the only time I’ll do it.”

“No deal.”

I laugh. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’d sit on the bears face though.” He says with a pout as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Enough with the damn bear.” I groan and lean in to kiss his lips softly.

After a moment Chris pulls away with a smile. “You know… the movie isn’t going anywhere.” He says as he runs his hands through my hair.

“I’m not sitting on your face.” I say.

“You don’t have to. But right now, with all that talk-“

“You’re hard as a rock.” I say.

Chris laughs. “Yes, I am. And it’s your fault.”

I laugh. “My fault? You’re the one who started talking about it.”

“Yeah, and you’re the pretty girl in the sexy outfit lying on my bed covered in rose petals.”

I laugh and lean in to kiss Chris again. “I think the movie can wait then.” I tell him before pressing my lips to his.

Chris’s hands find their way to my top. He slides his hands underneath the cropped fabric and cups my breasts as we kiss. His hands massage my boobs as his lips trail down my jaw and neck. He lifts his head up and pulls my shirt over my head, throwing it on the ground.

He holds my waist to switch our positions. He hovers over me as I lay on my back on the bed. Chris trails kisses down my neck to my chest before lifting himself up and pulling his shirt over his head. He throws it on the floor like mine. I wrap my arms over his shoulders and pull him closer to me, pressing his lips to mine.

Chris pulls away, pecking my lips once more. “I want to go slow tonight, is that okay?” He asks.

I nod. “Yeah, that’s okay.” I say back. Chris smiles and presses his lips to mine again. He trails kisses down my body to my shorts. He pulls them down my legs and discards them on the floor. He presses a kiss to my clothes clit before pulling the fabric to the side.

He licks a stride up my slit, flattening his tongue over my clit. I let out a soft moan. He does the same motion over and over at an agonizingly slow pace. “Chris please!” I beg. “Just a little faster please.”

I hear Chris chuckle and he begins to quicken his pace with his tongue. His lips latch onto my clit and begin sucking softly as his tongue swirls circles around my clit. I moan out loudly, my hand tangling in his hair.

Chris enters two fingers into me, still sucking on my clit as he starts at a slow pace. He curls his fingers, hitting my soft spots and he pumps his fingers in and out of me. As I begin to feel the familiar knot form in my stomach, I pull on Chris’s hair lightly. He pulls his fingers out of me and removes his lips from my aching clit.

I whine. “Don’t stop, please.” I whisper.

Chris chuckles as he slips off his sweats and boxers. “Do you want my dick or my fingers?” He asks slyly as he positions himself to hover over me. He looks down between us as he positions himself at my entrance. He looks me in the eyes and then leans down to press a kiss to my lips as he slowly slips into me.

I gasp into the kiss. We’ve had sex so many times yet I’m still not used to the sheer size of him. Chris breaks away from the kiss once he’s slipped all the way into me, stretching me full of his cock. He buries his head into the crook of my neck as he starts pulling out and pushing in at a slow pace.

“Faster, please.” I beg in a whisper. Chris grunts in response as his hips begin to move at a faster pace. I wrap my legs around his waist as his pace gets quicker. Still slow and soft but just fast enough to make me see stars.

Chris’s grunts and pants sent shivers down to my core. “Fuck, god yes.” He whispers into my ear. I clench around him which causes him to hiss and grip my waist tightly, definitely leaving marks to be seen tomorrow morning.

Chris moves his hand to begin to rub circles around my clit. His hand gripping me tightly as his thumb grazes over my clit lightly drawing circles over me.

“Chris, Chris, Chris!” I moan out loudly, my nails drawing scratches over his back.

“Fuck, babe.” He groans in my ear. “I’m close.”

“Me too, baby.” I whisper back. My fingers go back to his hair, tugging as his thrusts get sloppier. The bind in my stomach grows and grows until I hear Chris’s sweet moan as I feel his hot cum shoot into me.

The bind in my stomach unravels and I shake from the pleasure of my orgasm. Chris whimpers softly from the feeling before he fully relaxes over me. He pulls out of me and lays back on the bed next to me, pushing the stuffed bear off the bed.

I laugh. “Are you still mad at the bear?” I ask breathlessly.

“How can I be mad? He just saw no one can fuck you like I can.”

TAGS: @sturnioloshacker @sturniolho @mayhem-72 @bernardenjoyer @sturniolosreads @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturnsgirl @keira324 @stuniolobbg @timmyscomputer @meg-sturniolo @sturnioloenthusiast @nickdevora @hearts4chris @carolinalikesthings @mattscokewhore @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @lily-strnlo @adeoffline

[markster666]

KINKTOBER (Except in February) - ALASTOR X READER - DAY #10 (Orgasm Control)

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags: Kinktober, One-Shot, 18+, Smut, NSFW, all smut no plot, pet names, praising, Dom!Alastor, Sub!Reader, Humiliation, rough sex, breeding, orgasm denial, orgasm control, hair pulling, etc

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: 582

A/N: Enjoy! MDNI, please. Not edited, so apologies for any spelling mistakes. NSFW under the cut.

"No, my pet..."

Alastor growled, his voice harsh and unyielding.

"Not yet. You've been a naughty girl, and you'll be punished for your disobedience."

He slowed his thrusts once more, pulling out of you completely. You whimpered in protest, your body trembling with desire. He reached down, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your head back.

"Look at me, my little slut..."

He ordered, his eyes burning with a mixture of lust and dominance.

"Understand that I control your pleasure. You will cum when I say so, and only when I say so. Do you understand?"

You nodded frantically, your eyes pleading with him to release you from this agonizing state.

"Good girl..."

He purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

"Now, we're going to play a game. Every time you come close to orgasm, I'll stop, and you'll have to beg for my permission to cum. Do you accept these terms?"

"Y-Yes Sir."

"Lovely."

Alastor purred again, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight. He thrust back into you, his cock filling you completely.

"Now, let's see how long you can last before begging for your release."

His pace picked up, his hips moving in a steady rhythm that drove you closer and closer to the edge. You moaned and squirmed beneath him, your body arching in protest as you neared your climax.

"Please, Al-Alastor... I need to cum!"

You begged, your voice thick with desire.

"Not yet!"

He growled, pulling out of you abruptly. You cried out in frustration, your body shaking with unfulfilled need. He watched you squirm for a moment before re-entering you, his cock sliding into your wet depths with ease.

"Remember, my Pet..."

He warned, his voice deep and dangerously seductive.

"You'll cum when I say so. Any resistance, and I'll make you wait even longer."

He slowed his thrusts, teasing your sensitive spot just enough to keep you on the edge of orgasm. His hands moved down to your breasts, pinching and twisting your nipples mercilessly, eliciting another moan of pleasure from your lips.

"Tell me how close you are..."

He demanded, his voice low and seductive.

"Tell me how much you need me to finish you off."

You squirmed in his hold, Your breath coming in ragged gasps.

"I'm so close... please... I need... more..."

You panted, Your voice cracking with desire as you reached closer and closer to your climax.

"Not until I say so."

Alastor growled, his voice low and menacing.

"Now, beg properly."

You groaned in frustration, trying to hold back the rubber band from snapping in your stomach.

"Please, sir... I need to cum!"

You begged, your voice cracking with need.

"Good girl."

He praised, his hips picking up the pace once more.

"Now, tell me why you want to cum."

"I-I need it Alastor... it feels so good... I want to cum on your cock!"

You panted, your face flushed with arousal.

"That's better."

He purred, his cock thrusting deeper into you.

"Now, beg for my permission to cum."

"Please, Alastor... I beg you... let me cum... PLEASE!"

You pleaded, tears forming in your eyes from the mix of pleasure and frustration.

"Now, cum for me."

His pace increased rapidly. With a piercing cry of ecstasy, you came, your body contracting around his member in a vice-like grip as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over you. He came at the same time, painting your insides with his seed.

"You think you can cum again for me, Doll?"

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[zepskies]

Hello. I was wondering if you could write an imagine in the BMD-verse (been following it for a while now; love, love, love it, by the way!) where Ben cries?

Like something really bad happens in general or to the Reader, and he losses it? I mean, personally, I have never known this man to cry, and I would love to see you conjure up something that could possibly elicite that reaction from him.

But no pressure - will definitely understand if you don't want to write it!

Oooh, so you really wanna kill me, huh? 🫠😭😭

Lol it's okay, thank you for loving Break Me Down!! It's one of my favorite story verses that I've been able to create on here. ❤️❤️

This request was difficult for me on multiple levels, but I think I was able to pull it off? (I'll let you be the judge.) This is set in the BMD-verse, shortly after "Love Actually."

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Word Count: 2,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst, show-level violence, hurt/comfort, "twist" ending (you'll want to read until the end, trust me).

Imagine: Ben loses you.

Ben restrained another sigh when he realized you were no longer walking next to him.

He turned and saw you stopping in another damn kiosk, this time looking at a selection of Pashmina scarves. As if you didn’t have enough clothes.

“We’re not here for a damn shopping spree,” he called after you.

He ignored the people who glanced at him as they walked past, a couple of them even shooting him an annoyed look.

One didn’t just stop in the middle of a busy sidewalk in New York City, but as with most societal protocols, Ben couldn't really give a fuck.

He almost started tapping his foot. Instead, he crossed his arms as he glared in your general direction. You were smiling and chatting with the woman selling her wares as you finished the transaction.

Ben at least could admire the view of you bent over in those tight jeans and ankle boots. You also wore the dark green winter coat he bought you last month, lined with faux fur to keep you warm.

When you eventually came back to him, you shot him an amused smile. You held a new scarf in shades of green and blue, to match your coat. But you also held out a new pair of leather gloves for him.

“Here you go, Grumpy. I didn't forget about you,” you teased. He raised a wry brow at you and took the gloves. He inspected them with a half-critical eye.

“And how much did these cost, five cents?”

You rolled your eyes and kept walking. He caught up with you and slipped the gloves into his pocket.

“My hands don’t get cold anyway,” he reminded you. And you often complained that his body heat was like a radiator, especially at night. Although, you hadn’t been complaining since the winter turned frigid this February.

“All right, whatever. Just don’t say I never get you anything,” you quipped. “Besides, you know you love to accessorize.”

A smirk pulled at Ben’s lips. The gloves were a half-assed gift, but he still wore the watch you got him for Christmas proudly on his wrist. That was a nice silver Rolex.

“All I know is, we’d better not be late for this damn meeting,” he said. “I don’t wanna hear Mallory’s fucking mouth.”

The two of you had made a day of coming into the city, hitting a nice brunch spot and ice skating at Rockefeller center before your date had been rudely interrupted—by a call for a new mission.

Grace Mallory had been a bit cryptic on the phone, but it had something to do with the mess Ben left of the drug cartels in South America. After they got back to the States, Ben left that “business” behind…he just hadn’t thought of how that would shake out in Colombia.  

So now, you two were headed to the Supe Affairs building. You slipped your arm around his, while his hands were in his pockets. You looked up at him with a smile.

“Try to enjoy the little things, Ben,” you told him. “We had mimosas and some bougie ass lobster tails with our eggs this morning. I skated circles around you on the ice. And now we’re going to get some work done.”

“On our day off,” he retorted.

“To be fair, you made the mess, Mr. Kingpin,” you pointed out. “We’ve just gotta clean it up…as usual.”

“Hey," he eyed you. But you both knew the warning had little heat behind it.

He still reached for your cheek and brushed his thumb across it. He felt how cold your face was, and he stopped for a moment in the middle of the sidewalk. Neither of you cared when pedestrians gave you dirty looks as they passed by.

Maybe you were right though. Maybe he should take stock of the small moments. Ben held your face with both hands and caressed some warmth back into your skin.

Your smile softened, and your eyes closed when his lips found their way to your forehead. He then took the newly bought scarf out of your hand and wrapped it comfortably around your neck.

“What a gentleman,” you said, with a small grin.

Ben smirked down at you…until his face fell.

He heard the whistle of the bullet before he saw it.

It took him another second to move, grabbing you and shielding you with his entire body when it hit his back. The bullet itself bounced harmlessly off his skin, but the inner compartment of Novichok exploded like a small smoke bomb. The smell was too familiar to him to be anything else.

Ben coughed and was forced to push you away from him before the gas reached you. You yelped and almost tripped on your feet, but you scrambled back against the wall of a drycleaners. Your wide eyes met his as his knees buckled; the gas had clouded around his head.

“Run!” he shouted through fits of coughing.

You hesitated, for just a second. But when another bullet ricocheted into the wall behind you, near your head, you ducked and had to take off running.

You wove through the busy sidewalk, pushing people out of your way as you went. Whoever was after him this time, you had a feeling these were the people Ben had pissed off in Colombia.

Fuck! You sprinted past an alleyway and saw the hand coming for your arm, but even when you turned, there was another man, dressed a black military-style uniform with his face covered by a black mask, waiting to grab you from behind.

It was muscle memory. You released an elbow into the man’s neck, a punch straight into his teeth and nose, then kicked his knee out with the heel of your boot.

You grabbed your gun from under your jacket and would've shot him, except the next man wheelhouse kicked it out of your hand. You stepped back on instinct, ducking the following punch, and the rest of his arm to run in the opposite direction.

The first man pointed a large automatic gun straight in your face. You gasped and put your hands up. With a quick glance in either direction, you realized that they’d cornered you.

Your hands were pulled behind your back by someone else. That’s when they started dragging you toward a black SUV parked in the corner.

Except that car was soon destroyed, by an old Honda Civic being shoved into it. The SUV's hood constantined like an accordion.

You looked up with wide eyes, and there stood Ben, at the crossroads of the alley. He was furious.

“Soldier Boy,” greeted the man who once again held the automatic gun poised at you. He pulled down his mask, revealing the tan face of a middle-aged man.

He moved over to you and grabbed your arm from his subordinate. He raised the gun to your back. With one press of his finger, your insides could become Swiss cheese.

Your jaw clenched as you tried to take in even breaths. You focused on Ben. His green eyes met yours, and briefly you caught the worry behind them before his steely gaze moved back to the man who held you.

“Pretty ballsy, Reyes,” Ben said. His voice was a drawl, more controlled than he felt. “You really thought this was gonna go down that easy?”

Reyes scoffed. “You’re the ballsy one. Taking off with all that product you stole.”

“You’ll have to take up with the CIA on that one,” Ben replied. “They confiscated all the smack from my place. Probably reselling it to a few hobos down the street. You’re welcome to check under the bridge over there.”

He gestured in the direction of the Hudson River.  

Reyes shrugged. The sound of a gun’s safety being clipped back resounded through the alley. You felt the vibration of it on your back. Your eyes closed for a moment.

“Bad news for her,” he said.

"Hey," Ben snapped. "There's no fucking need for that."

"I think I'll decide what we need," said Reyes. Your lips pursed as the gun dug into your back. "Maybe it's your bitch's insides at your feet."

Ben slowly raised a placating hand. Though his gait was still relaxed and arrogant, as always, you knew it was a well-crafted act. To hide his anger. His fear. To seem in control of himself, and to reinforce the intimidating presence he still was, even unarmed.

“Listen. If it’s money you want, we can work it out,” Ben replied.

His eyes once again found yours. He could see you were holding your breath. You were good at hiding it, but he knew you were scared. He wanted to tell you that he had this handled. That everything would be all right.

He focused on Reyes again. The other man considered the supe with a tilt of his head. He sucked his teeth and spit on the ground, out of the corner of his mouth. It was mixed with a bit of blood from when you'd punched him in the teeth.

“Okay, my friend,” said Reyes. “Let’s work this out. Pull out your phone.”

Ben made slow movements in grabbing his phone from his pocket. They all stepped further into the alley to avoid prying eyes and discussed the transfer of funds, and how much was fair. Ben claimed he was giving him a deal with his first offer.

Reyes demanded three times that amount. Ben raised his brows...but he complied. The money transferred from his bank account.

“Okay, we’re fucking done,” Ben snarked. He gestured at you with his eyes. “Let her go.”

In his mind, he was already contemplating how thoroughly he'd rip Reyes apart for this. After you were safe. He'd have a first class ticket to Medellin by tonight, ready to Colombian-necktie this cocksucker.

Reyes sighed through his nose. There was still about ten feet between him and Ben. He didn't seem to think it was enough. He took the gun off your back and backed up with you a few steps. Eventually, he released your arm.

“Come ‘ere, sweetheart,” Ben reached a hand out, beckoning for you. You met his gaze once again, and let out a subtle breath.

You took three hesitant steps forward.

And the gunshots echoed horribly through the alley.

As it turned out, Reyes always had an escape plan. You were merely the distraction.

It proved effective, as Ben’s protest rang out as soon as the bullets fired. He raced forward and caught you as you stumbled, but his hands soon became coated in your blood; it fled from your back in thin rivulets.

You gasped and clung to his arms. His ears rang with the sound, along with tires squealing and shouts and police sirens. All he could focus on was the color draining from your face.

Both of your breaths came out ragged as he slid with you down to his knees. He brushed your hair away from your face, even as his blood-covered hand stained your cheek. Your pained eyes drew up to his face. You tried to speak, but you didn't have the strength.

“I hear the sirens. They’re coming for you, take you to the hospital,” he promised. His voice was rough, but his throat was tight. His eyes scanned over you. “All you need is my blood and…Christ. Fuck it all.”

He laid you down on the dirty asphalt and hurriedly yanked up his coat sleeve until it ripped. It exposed his arm. He was about to drag a blunt nail across his own skin to bleed into you.

“Ben.” Your fingers twitched against his knee.

When he looked at your face, there was no longer life in your eyes.

His own were wide, almost uncomprehending. His breathing was harsh as empty hands fell to his thighs. His head felt heavy, though his ears were still ringing.

He drew enough strength in his hand to wipe the blood from your cold cheek…but your face was beginning to blur.

Or not, he realized, as the sting in his eyes took him by surprise.

In a fit of mania, he gathered you back up in his arms and ignored the wetness covering your back. He held you, impossibly tight. Tighter than he’d ever held you, because he was alone in the alley…because he was alone again.

And it was his own fault.

His eyes squeezed shut against the burn, but it was futile. Everything was. His breaths were sharp and stifled as pain tore inside. A pain worse than anything the Russian's could've inflicted on him.

His lips pressed against your forehead, trembling there. The first drops of wetness rolled down his cheek. He couldn't stop it from happening, but then again. He guessed he truly was a failure, after all.

You made the mess…

His first tears had been spent at his mother’s funeral, when he stood alone at her gravestone.

His last ones would fall and die with you.

“Ben,” your voice was soft but insistent.

He finally woke with a start. A sharp inhale through his nose.

He had been sleeping on his side. Before he even truly registered where he was, in the safety of his bedroom, he turned his head toward you.

His eyes found your face in the dark, over his shoulder. Your hair was frizzy from sleep. The strap of your nightgown had fallen off one shoulder. Your face looked bleary and tired, but you frowned in concern.

“You okay, baby?” you asked. Your hand soothed across the dewy skin on his arm.

Ben’s throat constricted. He was starting to remember bits and pieces of the dream…the nightmare. He rubbed at his eyes, then dragged a hand over his mouth.

“Yeah,” he said at last.

“Hmm.” Your gaze narrowed at him. “You sure?”

Ben had only enough energy in him to nod in response. His heart was still racing. Maybe you sensed that, because you leaned onto his arm and dropped a hand down his chest. You kissed his bare shoulder with soft lips, and he couldn’t help himself.

He raised a hand to cup the back of your head. He let out a long, relieved sigh through his nose, closing his eyes. Then he turned onto his back and brought you closer, with an arm slipping around your frame and pulling you against his chest. You made a sound of surprise, but you went willingly.

You brushed the sweaty strands of hair away from his face and pressed a kiss against his neck, to his jaw, his cheek and above his brow. He accepted it all and tried to calm his breathing with the feeling of your touch, and the smell of your flowery soap that lingered on your skin.

With a hand still cupping your head, he guided your lips to his. He claimed you slowly, but with purpose. You answered him by tilting your head, deepening the kiss for a moment.

You parted from him just as slowly. You knew everything wasn’t okay, but you also knew it wasn’t the time to push him for an answer.

Maybe in the morning, you thought. …I’ll make pancakes. Haven't done that in a while. And he’s always happier with something sweet.

You rested contentedly against his warm chest and let his heartbeat, gradually slowing back into a steady rhythm, lull you back to sleep.

Ben tangled his fingers into your hair. He laid one more kiss on the top of your head.

And for damn sure, he was going to cancel that trip into the city tomorrow.

AN: I know, I know. The "it was all a dream" thing is super cheesy, but I couldn't leave it on heartbreak. I just don't have it in me with these two. 🥲❤️‍🩹

Read the Sequel:

A friend of mine requested a sequel to this imagine: "You confront Ben about his fears."

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[tigertales9]

Hard Reset XII

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+

Description: This flashback fic covers Joe & Reader's first Valentine's Day together back at LSU. There's also another flashback nestled within this flashback (Joeception) of when they first met at LSU.

Time/Place: Thursday, Feb. 14, 2019 (Valentine's Day) / Baton Rouge, Louisiana (with a flashback to June 2018)

A/N: This is the twelfth fic in the Hard Reset series.

This flashback got too long so I'm posting it in two parts. The smut is in the second part, but I'm rating this 18+ because it's smut adjacent. I'm hoping to have the next chapter up before this week-end. The smut has been finished for awhile, but I'm just trying to put the finishing touches on the ending. Nothing is coming easy right now, but I refuse to give up. 😋

I've had a few messages asking me if LSU Joe has long or short hair in this flashback. In my mind, he has short hair with the forehead curls (see gif below). I've tried to keep the descriptions ambiguous just in case y'all wanna imagine him with the longer hair.

Since I posted the first part of this as a sneak peek, I put a substantial (bold) cut so you can scroll down and start reading the new content w/o re-reading the sneak peek if you don't want to.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Thursday, Feb. 14, 2019 (Valentine's Day) / Baton Rouge, Louisiana

You exit the cool interior of the grocery store, squinting at the mid-afternoon sun as you quickly make your way to your car, popping the trunk and loading a few bags of groceries inside before hopping into the driver's seat; you slide your sunglasses on and head for the exit, looking both ways before easing out into the traffic on River Road, rolling your windows down and throwing a quick glance at the Mississippi River as it runs parallel to the street, its earthy, fertile scent bringing a smile to your face.

"70 degrees in mid-February!" you mimic in Joe's voice, laughing at the accuracy of your impersonation. "He's def gonna bitch about it," you continue, flicking your turn signal on a few minutes later before making the turn that will take you away from the river and toward your apartment complex.

~ ~ ~

An hour later, you're whipping up some homemade frosting when your bestie/roommate Gina walks in, sniffing the air dramatically.

"Smells like heaven," she groans, eyeing the fluffy pink concoction as you finish beating it with a mixer. "What is it?"

"Raspberry buttercream frosting," you answer, grabbing two spoons and scooping some frosting on each before handing her one. "How's it taste?" you ask, laughing when she makes loud, appreciative noises.

"Delish! I can't believe you made homemade frosting," she marvels. "What ya gonna put it on?"

"Chocolate cupcakes." You step back and wave a hand at the plump cupcakes sitting pretty on a cooling rack beside the oven. "I made these from a triple chocolate cake mix, so they're just semi-homemade."

"Oh, just semi-homemade? I better call the food police," she teases, walking over and leaning down to sniff the cupcakes before throwing you a look. "I hope Joe realizes how lucky he is to have a woman who loves to cook."

"He's very appreciative," you mutter, blushing when she cackles at the look on your face.

"Seven months in and you're still blushing over this man? He's def doing something right."

"Not gonna argue with that," you giggle, peeling the wrapper off one of the still-warm cupcakes before cutting it in half; you smear a generous amount of frosting on both halves before handing one to Gina. "Happy V Day," you state, bumping your cupcake half against hers before taking a big bite. "Happy V Day," she parrots, making num-num noises as she polishes off the confection.

"What are you and Trey doing tonight?" you ask, licking a dollop of frosting off your finger as she rolls her eyes.

"He's bringing take-out over because he waited too long to make a reservation, so literally everywhere decent is booked up. I told him if he brings wings or pizza, he can forget about getting any pussy."

You laugh along with her for a bit before quieting down. "So what did y'all decide on since wings and pizza is clearly a no go?"

"Nothing," she shrugs. "I'm tired of having to ask for things I want. After almost a year and a half together, he should know without me telling him. He's just gotten lazy and expects me to do all the work and make all the decisions. He mostly just sits and scrolls his phone when we're together unless I tell him what to do."

"I hear you. -- So what do you actually want for dinner tonight?"

She thinks for several seconds before answering. "I know it's basic as hell, but I'd love some lasagna and breadsticks from Olive Garden."

"Might be basic but still delicious." You give her a wink as you cover the bowl of frosting with plastic wrap and place it in the fridge. "I made enough cupcakes to share with you and Trey," you continue. "Once they cool completely, I'll frost them for you."

"Thanks, but I might hoard 'em for myself if he shows up with McDonald's or some shit."

You walk out of the kitchen and head toward your bedroom, beckoning Gina to follow. "He's not gonna show up with McDonald's," you scoff, pulling the top drawer of your dresser open to grab two pair of panties, one pink and one red, both with tags still attached.

"What are these?" she asks, eyebrows rising when you hand her the red pair.

"I ordered them a couple of weeks ago. I was starting to think they wouldn't arrive in time, but they got here yesterday. Happy V Day!"

"Thanks, girl!" She holds the flimsy mesh thong up to her face, grinning at you through the gossamer fabric. "These are totally see-through," she giggles, "and that center seam on the crotch is gonna give major camel toe."

"Exactly," you purr, wiggling your blush-pink thong that's identical to hers except for the color. "Next best thing to crotchless without being crotchless."

"Oh shit, that reminds me of the crotchless panties I gave you as a gift!" she chirps. "You wore them for Halloween, right?"

"Yep, Joe totally wrecked them."

"That ain't the only thing he wrecked," she chortles. "You were def walking funny the next day."

You join in the laughter for a sec before speaking. "I mean, yeah, he beat it up for real, but the limp I had was mostly because I tweaked my groin from doing the splits on his face without stretching first. Didn't even realize it until the next day."

"No way!" she hollers, falling onto your bed and kicking her feet in the air while cackling. "Hold up," she gasps after several seconds, pointing at your yoga mat that's rolled up and leaning against the wall in the corner of your room. "Wasn't it just after Halloween when you got majorly into yoga?"

"Maybe," you shrug, grinning ear-to-ear as she mentally connects the dots.

"I thought you were just trying something new since you already do cardio and strength training, but you've actually been getting more limber for sex?"

"Yep, don't wanna pull a muscle."

"You lucky bitch! I can't even get Trey to pull my hair during sex much less pull a damn muscle!"

The look on her face causes you to throw yourself on the bed beside her, both of you roaring with laughter until your phone rings.

"Oh shit, it's Joe," you wheeze as you check the display, gasping for breath to try and get yourself under control before answering. "Hey babe," you manage before immediately dissolving into another fit of giggles.

"Hey," he answers, his voice slightly bemused. "You okay?"

"Y … yeah," you pant, biting your lip hard enough to hurt before cutting a side-eye at Gina, her ridic, bug-eyed expression causing you to snort loudly before howling with laughter.

"Are you laughing or crying?" Joe asks.

"Laugh … ing," you wheeze, taking in copious gulps of air as Gina grabs a pillow and rolls off the bed and onto the floor, using the pillow to muffle her laughter.

"What the hell, babe?" he asks, sounding slightly worried. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine." You take a few deep breaths before continuing. "Gina said something funny right before you called."

"Are y'all drunk?"

"No, daddy, we haven't been underage drinking."

"I don't give a shit about underage drinking and you know it. I mean, you'll be 21 in less than three months."

"You sound kinda pissed," you pout, smiling at his heavy sigh.

"I'm not pissed, and I don't care if you've been drinking. Matter of fact, I've got two bottles of your fav blush wine chilling in my fridge for tonight, I just don't want you drinking and driving. Let me know if I need to come get you."

"I haven't been drinking," you reiterate. "I'm putting you on speaker," you continue. "Gina? Have we been drinking?"

"We have not been drinking!" she states loudly from the floor.

"Told ya, daddy," you gloat in your brattiest voice.

"If you call me daddy one more time, we're gonna have a problem."

"You gonna punish me?" you purr. "Maybe ground me for a week?"

"Maybe bend you over, pull your panties down and spank your sweet ass before burying my tongue in your …"

"You're on speaker!" you yelp, laughing as Gina hops up and sprints for the door, throwing you a naughty smirk on the way out.

"Sorry. Got a little carried away," Joe mutters.

"It's fine. Gina ran like hell, but you didn't say anything super raunchy."

"Only because you interrupted me."

"I mean … we were talking about sex when you called."

"Ummm, do I even wanna know the deets since you were laughing so hard you could barely breathe?"

"Just that I got into yoga so I could be super limber for sex with you. You frequently get me in positions where my knees are pushed up by my ears or I'm basically doing the splits."

"What's funny about that?"

"Nothing. I'll tell you more later."

"You like it when I manhandle you a little, right?"

You smile at his uncertain tone. "I love it. You know I love it. The funny part was her reaction. Apparently, Trey doesn't get down like that so she was expressing her, ummm, frustration. The look on her face was what set me off."

"Does Trey know he's a boring lay?"

"Probably not," you giggle, "and don't you dare tell him."

"I hardly ever talk to him. He's been aggravated at me ever since Gina told him I pay for your monthly bikini wax, and now he feels like he has to do the same for her. I told him it's only fair since getting your pubes ripped out is no fun, and it's at least partially being done for his pleasure."

"He can be a little self-centered."

"A little?" Joe snorts.

"Okay, a lot. Gina loves him, though, so hopefully he grows out of it eventually."

"Wouldn't put money on it, but anyway … how's your day going?"

"Good. My classes were boring, as usual, but I have zero homework so that's good. Also, I picked up all the groceries I need to cook dinner for us tonight."

"Did you have any trouble using my credit card?"

You chew on your lip for a second before answering. "I didn't use it."

"Why not?"

"Because I wanted to treat you for once; you always pay for stuff."

"Listen … you go to the store, bring stuff to my place and cook delicious food for us. The least I can do is pay for the groceries."

"Just let me treat you this one time. It's part of my Valentine's Day gift to you."

"We'll see," he mumbles. "Do you need any help getting everything to my place?"

"Nah, I think I can manage the grueling five minute drive by myself," you snark.

"You gonna be a little shit all night, or is this just an appetizer?"

"Just an appetizer," you giggle. "I intend to be way worse later."

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

"It's a promise not a threat," you purr.

"Woman, I need to go work-out, and I don't wanna hit the gym with a hard-on. Can we save the sexy banter for later?"

"Yes, sir," you drawl, putting as much implied sex in the two syllables as possible.

"Keep that same energy for later tonight," he orders, his voice dropping an octave like it always does when he's aroused.

"Yes, sirrrr," you repeat, giggling at his exasperated groan.

"One more 'daddy' or 'sir' out of your pretty mouth, and I'm gonna skip the gym and drive straight to your place."

"No, you won't," you tease. "You're religious about getting your work-outs in."

"Listen, I'm gonna hit the gym, come home, eat dinner with you, then fuck you 'til you can't think straight. Then I'm gonna reload and fuck you again."

"Sounds good," you whisper, a sizzle of anticipation racing down your spine.

"What time are you coming over?" he asks, his voice still thick with arousal.

"Probably about 5:00."

"I'll be back from the gym by 5:30."

"Okay."

"And, babe?"

"Yeah?"

"I intend to go hard so make sure to take your vitamins and stretch."

"Yes, sir," you whimper, ending the call before he can say anything else. "He's def gonna make me pay for that later," you giggle to yourself, hopping off the bed to go find Gina.

* * * end of sneak peek * * *

You find Gina sitting on the sofa when you walk into the living area. "Hey," you grin, plopping down beside her. "Hope we didn't gross you out."

"Not a bit," she laughs, handing you a small gift bag. "It's your fav bath bomb and some chocolate-covered almonds," she continues as you peek into the bag.

"Thank you! That's so sweet." You give her a hug before setting the bag on the coffee table.

"You're welcome. So, you and Joe are staying in tonight, right?"

"Yeah, we don't like going out on holiday nights because of the big crowds."

"Y'all are always on the same wavelength," she smiles. "What are you cooking for him? Besides the cupcakes?"

"His fav spicy Cajun pasta plus garlic bread and salad."

"Is that the pasta that has blackened chicken, shrimp and andouille sausage in it?"

"Yep."

"Yum! That's what I want you to make for my 21st birthday dinner. I've been craving it for a while."

"I mean, I can make it for you sooner than that if you're jonesing. We don't have to wait a whole month until your birthday."

She gives you a smile as she shakes her head. "It'll be worth the wait. Besides, I'm prob gonna be eating a fucking Big Mac and fries for dinner tonight, so I need to let my digestive system recover before I gobble down that delish pasta."

"You're not eating a fucking Big Mac and fries," you laugh, grabbing your phone and hitting a number before putting it on speaker.

"Hey Y/n," Trey drawls. "What's up?"

"Hey." You smile at Gina's surprised expression before continuing. "Listen, lasagna and breadsticks from Olive Garden."

"Ummm, what?"

"You're bringing dinner to Gina for Valentine's, right?"

"Yeah."

"Lasagna and breadsticks from Olive Garden."

"For real?"

"Yep."

"Okay, cool. -- Anything else?"

"Just … remember that Valentine's Day is about romance." You grin at Gina as she bugs her eyes out at you. "Turn your damn phone off and seduce your woman."

"Did she tell you to say that?"

"No, but I've heard her grumble at you a few times lately about constantly being on your phone when y'all are together."

"That's true," he mumbles. "I def need to be better about that."

"Tonight is the perfect time to start."

"Okaaay, so lasagna, breadsticks, seduction and stay off the phone?"

"Yep."

"Got it."

"Cool. Have a nice night." You end the call and level a no-nonsense look at Gina. "Okay, girl, I did my part. You gotta take the reins once he gets here."

"What do you mean?"

"You got a fresh coochie wax and some naughty panties. Put him on his back and sit on his face."

"For real?"

"Yes! I think he's too shy to initiate that kind of action, but I bet he'll be totally into it if you take control."

"I … don't know."

"He goes down on you, right?"

"Yeah, but not like that."

"Not yet," you purr, wiggling your eyebrows.

She gives you a look before taking a deep breath. "I'm gonna try it."

"Yes!" you chirp. "Just make sure you stretch first."

"I will," she giggles, her eyes going wide when the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it," you state, quickly heading to the front door and checking the peephole before opening it. "Wow!" you gush, smiling at the sight of a vase full of blush-pink roses; a head pops out from behind the beautiful arrangement. "Delivery for Y/n," the delivery driver says, giving you a cheerful smile as you reach for the vase.

"That's me."

"I got one more delivery for this address," she says. "Be right back."

You're grinning ear-to-ear when you walk back into the living room.

"Those are gorgeous!" Gina gushes.

"For real! Listen, you need to go to the door; the delivery driver is bringing another arrangement." She gives you a 'say what?' look before heading to the front door.

You set the glass vase on the kitchen island and open the card, reading it out loud. "Happy first Valentine's Day! Can't wait to celebrate many more together. Love, Joe."

You're still smiling when Gina walks in with a vase full of red roses. "Gurrrrl," she chuckles. "I know you told Trey to send these to me."

"I didn't! Swear to God!"

"Really? 'Cause it's kinda cray that Joe and Trey sent the same flowers -- just a diff color -- from the same florist."

You nod your head for a bit before a thought hits you. "I wonder if Joe said something to Trey? If he did, he didn't tell me."

"Call him and ask him."

"Okay," you grin, heading for your bedroom. "Be right back." You close your bedroom door and hit Joe's number, hoping he isn't already working out.

"Hey," he answers almost immediately.

"Hey," you echo. "Thanks for the roses. I love them."

"You're welcome."

"Can you talk for a sec?"

"Yeah. I just got to the gym, but I haven't started working out yet."

"Did you tell Trey to send Gina flowers?"

"Uhhh, no. He called me a few days ago and asked if I was sending you flowers. I said yes and told him what I was sending and the name of the florist. Why?"

"She got the same arrangement you sent me but with red roses instead of pink."

"Well, good for Trey. Maybe there's hope for him after all."

"Maybe so," you grin, dropping your voice a bit. "I really love the roses. Can't wait to thank you for them later. They're gorgeous."

"You're gorgeous," he murmurs.

"You better go get your work-out done so you can hurry up and get home."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Don't expend all of your energy, okay? Save some for me."

"Don't worry about that. I got plenty," he boasts, his cocky tone bringing a smile to your face.

You end the call and walk back into the living area, giving Gina a huge grin as she waits for the deets. "Joe didn't tell Trey to send the roses."

"Really?"

"Really." You explain the situation while she shakes her head.

"Damn, I guess he was afraid Joe would show him up," she giggles.

"A little healthy competition can be a good thing," you state, laughing along with her for several seconds before y'all quiet down. "I should've got Joe a couple more things for V Day," you mumble.

"Whaaaat?" she chirps. "You're cooking him dinner and dessert, plus you're supplying the naughty panties and the contents of said panties."

"That's true," you chuckle, "plus I got him a jigsaw puzzle to remind him of the first … well ... actually the second time he asked me out."

"You mean the second time you shot him down?"

"Yeah," you grin, letting your mind rewind back to June 2018.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Early June 2018 - Baton Rouge, Louisiana (in a small bookstore just off LSU campus)

You take a sip of your iced coffee and scowl at your computer screen, hitting your delete key several times while barely registering the sound of the bell that alerts you to a customer entering the bookstore. "Let me know if you need any help," you automatically say, never taking your eyes off of your screen.

Several minutes later, you catch some movement in your peripheral vision and quickly turn your head, making eye contact with a tall, blonde man for a few seconds before he disappears behind the bookshelves. Haven't seen him here before, you think to yourself, taking another sip of your drink as you continue to look in his direction.

He eventually reappears, and you smile at him. "Need help finding something?" you ask, swallowing hard as he walks toward you, his long-legged stride making you feel a little funny.

"Just looking," he says, the sound of his voice hitting you like a roundhouse kick to the face.

"Oh … okay," you mutter, your pulse picking up as he walks directly up to the large L-shaped desk that serves as a check-out counter and sticks a hand out toward you, his impressive height and broad shoulders completely blocking out the late-afternoon sun streaming in the windows behind him.

"I'm Joe," he announces, giving you a devastating smile when you stand up from your desk chair and grasp his hand.

You try not to react to the electric shock you feel when you nestle your hand in his much bigger one. "I'm Y/n," you mumble.

"Nice to meet you, Y/n. I'm new here. Just recently transferred over from OSU."

"Oklahoma State?" you ask, grinning when he rolls his pretty blue eyes.

"Ohio State," he answers.

"You're a midwestern boy, huh?"

He raises one eyebrow before answering. "A midwestern man."

"My bad," you giggle, biting your lip as a blush rises in your face; his gaze drops down to your mouth and you feel something stir deep inside you, a rush of heat and a steady throb between your legs that makes you react by pressing your thighs together.

"No problem," he states, his already deep voice dropping a full octave lower; he quickly flicks his gaze down to your denim-clad thighs, lingering there briefly before recapturing your gaze.

Got damn, you think to yourself, trying to act normal as your body continues to react to him. I prob need to buy some new batteries for my vibrator, you muse, wiping your sweaty palms on your jeans when his sinful lips curl up in a wicked grin, like he's reading your mind and really liking what he sees.

The entrance bell ringing breaks the porny spell, and you turn your head toward the door, smiling at one of your regular customers. "Hi, Mrs. Peavy. The book you ordered came in today's mail."

"That's great news!" she chirps. "I'm just gonna browse for a bit before I check out."

She disappears back behind the tall bookshelves, and you return your attention to Joe, catching his gaze sliding down your body again before he clears his throat and checks his watch. "I gotta get to the gym," he mutters, raking a hand through his hair while backing away from you. "It was really nice meeting you."

"You too," you grin, shamelessly ogling his ass in his slinky shorts as he heads out the door.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

One week later

You're sipping another iced coffee and staring into space when the entrance bell jingles, pulling your attention to the tall, blonde man striding toward you. "Hey," you grin, standing up as he walks directly up to your desk.

"Hey," he echoes, waggling his large styrofoam cup. "Am I allowed to have this in here?"

"Is it a drive-thru daiquiri? And if it is, are you at least 21?"

"I'm 21, but it's a smoothie not a daiquiri," he chuckles. "I just didn't know if y'all allow drinks in the store."

"It's fine," you state, pointing at your iced coffee. "Drinks are def allowed."

"What is that?" he asks.

"It's an iced mocha latte. I have one every workday to give me a little caffeine boost."

"What days do you work?"

"Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday 3:00 - 7:00."

"That explains why you weren't here when I popped in last Friday afternoon."

"Yep, that explains it," you say inanely, your pulse picking up at the thought that he came in hoping to see you. He takes a sip of his smoothie, and your gaze is drawn to his throat, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows the frosty beverage.

He licks his lips before giving you a lethal grin. "Did you know that you get a greater energy boost from eating an apple instead of drinking a caffeinated beverage?"

"No way," you grin, taking a big slurp of your iced coffee while he gives a vigorous nod, causing a dirty-blonde curl to bounce against his forehead.

"Seriously," he states. "There are studies that show eating an apple gives you a longer energy boost than a cup of coffee. Honeycrisp apples are my fav," he continues. "Have you ever tried one?"

"Maybe baked in a pie or dunked in caramel," you tease, "but be for real. Apples don't have caffeine."

"True," he nods. "It's the natural sugars and the fiber in the skin that give you the sustained energy boost."

"Are you a registered dietician?" you ask with a hint of playful snark.

"No, but I'm an athlete, so I've consulted with lots of dieticians and sports nutritionists."

"I see," you grin, half-convinced he's bullshitting even though he's built like an athlete. "Think I'll stick with my trusty caffeine."

"Cool," he quips, shifting his weight from one foot to the other while raking a hand through his hair. "Sooo, you go to LSU?" he asks.

"Yeah, I'm in my junior year."

"Cool," he repeats. "You taking any summer classes?"

"Just one; it's an online course in business ethics. Super easy."

"What's your major?"

"I'm doing a double major in graphic design and digital advertising."

"That sounds interesting and also a little intense."

"It's really not bad," you admit. "I rarely have homework since I get most everything done in class plus the 12 hours a week I spend here at the bookstore."

"How long have you worked here?"

"Since about midway through freshman year. My parents were against it at first, but they came around once they realized how ideal it is. It's nice to make a little extra money instead of expecting them to pay for everything. Between my partial scholarship and the college fund they started when I was born, I'm gonna graduate with zero student loan debt, which is basically like winning the lottery these days."

"Damn right," he enthuses. "I did my undergrad in finance, and starting a college fund as soon as possible is one of the best things a parent can do for their child."

"Undergrad?" you ask. "Do you already have a degree?"

"Yeah, I got a bachelor's from OSU in consumer and family financial services. I'm a graduate transfer doing a master's in liberal arts."

You raise your eyebrows. "That's quite a move from Ohio to Louisiana. Do you have family here?"

"No … well, not yet. Eventually my teammates will be as close as family."

"Teammates?"

"Yeah, football teammates."

You feel your heart sink at the implication. "You play football?"

"Yeah."

"For the university?"

"Uhhh, yeah. I was a back-up quarterback for three years at OSU, so I transferred here to get a chance to start."

"A fucking quarterback," you mumble under your breath.

"What was that? I didn't hear you."

"Nothing." You give him a bland smile before taking another hearty gulp of your 'caffeinated beverage'.

He watches you closely for a few seconds before speaking. "I take it you don't like football."

"What makes you say that?" you ask, a bit disconcerted that he read you so easily.

"Your whole demeanor changed when I mentioned it."

"I like it fine," you scoff. "I mean, except for the fact that it's violent as fuck, and I'm always worried I might witness a horrific injury. Other than that, I think it's just peachy."

He hits you with that panty-dropping grin, and you're more than a little annoyed when your body reacts. Simmer down, you think to yourself. Nothing dumber than getting sprung over a fuck boy quarterback.

"How many games have you been to here at LSU?" he asks.

"Several," you lie.

"Several, huh? Like at least ten?"

"Like three," you mumble. "The last game I went to kind of ruined it for me."

"What happened? Horrific injury?"

"No. There was a drunk dude sitting beside me who kept sloshing beer on my boots, literally burped in my face, and then had the audacity to get mad when I refused to give him my number."

"Yikes. Not cool."

"Indeed," you grumble.

"Well, if you come watch me play this fall, maybe I can give you a few tips to avoid the drunk assholes."

"As if," you snort, rolling your eyes when he hits you with a pouty expression. That shit's not working on me, pretty boy, you think to yourself, squaring your shoulders as he shifts his weight again and hits you with another smile.

"Well, anyway … would you like to maybe grab lunch or something this week-end?" he asks.

"Ummm, I'm actually hosting a 21st birthday slumber party for a friend this week-end."

"All week-end? Friday through Sunday?"

"Kind of," you mutter, hoping he doesn't ask you to elaborate.

"Cool," he says, "hope y'all have fun."

"Thanks," you mumble, your gaze darting to the door as the bell jingles, signaling a new customer.

"I better get going," he says, giving you a lingering look before striding toward the door.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two weeks later

You hear the entrance bell jingle and quickly cut a glance at the door, eyes going wide when Joe walks in. Holy shit, take a hint, you think to yourself, giving him a bland look as he walks up to your desk.

"Hey," he smiles.

"Hey," you echo, trying hard not to return his smile.

"How was your slumber party?"

"Good."

The silence stretches out between you for a bit before he speaks up.

"Did I do something to upset you?"

"Nope."

"Okaaay," he mutters, running a hand through his hair while clearing his throat. "Look, I know you don't love football, but I can talk about a lot more than that. I was hoping we could maybe get to know each other better? Maybe just go out for ice cream or lunch sometime?"

"When?" you deadpan.

"Ummm, maybe Friday? I have some team activities Saturday and Sunday."

You give him a tight smile before answering. "Friday's not good for me. I have a 3000 piece jigsaw puzzle that I'm jonesing to finish, and I have it on my schedule for this Friday."

"A jigsaw puzzle?" he asks, his tone bordering on incredulous.

"Yep," you chirp, your expression daring him to question you further.

The silence stretches out for an uncomfortable amount of time before he finally breaks it.

"I get it," he mutters, slowly backing away. "Sorry for bothering you." He spins around and heads for the exit, stopping just before opening the door to look back at you; his gaze lingers on you for several seconds before he pulls the door open and walks out.

You release the breath you didn't realize you were holding and slump back in your desk chair, wondering why you feel so empty when you should really feel amazing for curving an obvious fuck boy.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two weeks later

You finish the last bite of your shrimp po' boy and dab your mouth with your napkin, quickly turning your head toward the street behind you as a car backfire causes everyone to flinch.

"Got damn!" Gina snaps, grabbing her glass of sweet tea and taking several gulps. "Damn near choked," she wheezes, both of you giggling.

Y'all are sitting at one of many picnic tables at an outdoor food court that's flanked by several food trucks; you take a sip of your sweet tea and turn your head again, scanning the lunchtime crowd until your gaze comes to rest on a familiar figure sitting at a table with a few other guys.

"Oh shit!" you gasp.

"What is it?" Gina asks, her head on a swivel to see what upset you.

"Don't look!" you hiss. "It's Joe."

"Who?"

"That guy who came into the bookstore a few times and asked me out."

"The quarterback?"

"Yes," you whisper, turning your head slowly to find him staring directly at you. "Oh shit, fuck, dammit to hell," you breathe, plastering on a fake smile and waving when he waves at you.

"He's headed this way," Gina warns.

"Should I run?"

"Hell no," she laughs. "Just smile and act unaffected."

"Fuck my life," you mutter, smiling as he walks up to your table. "Hey," you greet, annoyed at the breathless tone of your voice.

"Hey," he echoes.

"Ummm, Joe this is Gina," you say, gesturing toward her, "my roommate and bestie. Gina this is Joe," you continue, gesturing toward him.

"Nice to meet you," Gina says.

"You too," Joe grins, looking back and forth between you before Gina speaks up.

"I'm gonna throw out our trash and head to the car," she announces. "Y'all take your time talking."

"Thanks," you grimace, gesturing at the seat opposite you once Gina vacates it. "Have a seat."

"Thanks," Joe says, dropping his big frame down and resting his ridiculously sexy hands and forearms on the table.

Asshole, you think to yourself, hating the fact that you're incredibly attracted to him. "Sooo, how's your football stuff going?" you ask.

"Good. How's your jigsaw puzzle stuff going?" he asks, not even trying to hide his smirk.

"Good," you state, your cunty expression daring him to call you out.

He stares at you for several seconds before speaking. "Look … I just wanna tell you that the jigsaw puzzle thing is the worst brush off I've ever heard."

"What makes you think it was a brush off?" you ask.

"Because it's ridic. You could've finished the puzzle any other time."

"I could have," you agree. "But I was really looking forward to doing it that specific night."

He tilts his head and gives you a look. "I don't think the puzzle actually exists."

"Oh really?" you mumble, grabbing your phone and scrolling through your pics until you find what you're looking for. "This is it," you say, studying the pic while continuing. "It's a shot from the Hubble telescope." You flip your phone around so he can see it. "It's the …"

"Crab nebula," he finishes your sentence, taking your phone and setting it on the table in front of him. "Damn," he whispers, leaning down for a better look. "This is a beautiful shot." He quickly flicks his gaze up at you before looking back down at your phone. "Most colorized shots of the Crab nebula are depicted in cool colors, but this heat signature is very hot," he murmurs.

Very fucking hot, you think to yourself, studying his face as he continues to look at the pic, his long eyelashes fanned out against his slightly-sunburned cheeks.

He eventually slides your phone across the table toward you and gives you a sheepish grin. "I owe you an apology for not believing you. I'm sorry."

You feel a hot blush rise in your cheeks, more from shame than attraction, and you heave a sigh before responding. "Listen … I did finish the puzzle Friday, but you were right when you said I could've done it another time, so it basically was a brush off."

"Thanks for being honest," he states. "Why don't you simplify this by just saying you aren't interested in me."

"Because that would be a lie," you blurt, surprising yourself just as much as him with your admission.

"Okay, now I'm confused," he grins. "If you're interested then why the brush off?"

You have an answer ready because that's pretty much all you've been thinking about lately. "I just feel like we wouldn't be very compatible."

"What are you basing that on?"

You shrug. "I'm an introverted bookworm who doesn't really like to party. I enjoy cooking for my friends and hanging out at home."

"That perfectly describes me minus the cooking part," he grins, laughing softly when you narrow your eyes at him.

"Boy please," you scoff. "Most college athletes are huge partiers and total manwhores."

"What are you basing that on?" he repeats.

"I'm basing it on my experience, and also things I've seen and heard from friends."

"So you've dated some college athletes?"

"Kind of," you mumble. "He was actually my high school boyfriend, a year older than me. We dated for just over a year before he graduated and went to college. He wasn't talented enough to get a Division 1 football scholarship, but he did get a D2. The school was about a four hour drive from our hometown. He promised me we'd make the distance work, then he proceeded to fuck everything in a skirt the second he hit campus. Luckily I had several other friends at the same school who dropped a dime on his fuck boy ways."

"Was he a quarterback?"

"No, but the quarterback on his college team was even worse. One of those gross dudes who brags about getting more ass than a barstool."

"I see," he mutters, taking a deep breath before continuing. "So now you think all football players are like that? Like 100% of us?"

You shrug. "Maybe not 100% but why chance it? I know that not all snakes are poisonous, but I still avoid 'em. You're a man, though, so you wouldn't understand."

"I understand. And yes, there are plenty of fuck boy athletes, but I'm not one of them."

You bite your bottom lip to quell a skeptical smirk, noting that his gaze drops down to your mouth for several seconds before he continues speaking.

"Can I tell you a little bit about myself?" he asks, finally dragging his gaze back up to your eyes.

"Sure."

"I'm an introverted bookworm who doesn't really like to party," he states, echoing your earlier words. "I spend most of my time at football practice, working out, watching game film, and studying the playbook. Once my classes start, I'll be studying for those, as well. You can usually find me at my apartment or the football facility, which is a five minute drive from my apartment. Occasionally I do something wild like eat at a restaurant, browse a bookstore, or play blackjack at a casino."

You raise an eyebrow, and he chuckles before responding.

"I'm not a gambling addict or anything like that. I don't play very often, but when I do, I win more than I lose." You can't help but smile at his cocky tone as he continues. "I also enjoy playing chess, collecting graphic t-shirts, and reading about plus watching pretty much anything related to how the universe works, hence me nerding out over your Crab nebula puzzle. Physics is my fav subject." He gives you a big grin. "Am I boring you yet?"

"Not yet," you mutter.

"I also enjoy building LEGO sets which are basically just 3D versions of jigsaw puzzles." You stare at each other for several seconds before he speaks up again. "If you get to know me, you'll realize I'm not a stereotypical jock."

Holy shit, he's smooth, you think to yourself, wondering if his earnest expression is real or fake. Prob fake as fuck, you seethe; time to set him straight. "Listen, I'm not gonna jump in bed with you, okay?" you snap. "There are plenty of other women on this campus who'd be DTF if you flash that smile at 'em. Why waste time with me?"

"Because I'm not looking for a quick fuck. I'm looking for someone I can vibe with."

"Running game on me is not gonna work, sweetie," you snort. "You're good at it, don't get me wrong, but I see right through that shit."

"Look, I know you've had some bad experiences, but I swear I'm not running game. Don't punish me for some other guys' sins."

You stare at him without speaking, trying not to show any emotion as he continues.

"Plus, you're the one who keeps mentioning sex," he states matter-of-factly. "I'd just like to get to know you."

"You're right," you mumble, caught somewhere between admiration and aggravation that he's managed to get the upper hand in the conversation; time to put him on the back foot. "That was very presumptuous of me. You're clearly not attracted to me, so I apologize for jumping to that conclusion."

"Okay, that's not true and you know it," he mutters.

"Meaning?"

He runs a hand through his hair before answering. "Meaning … I'm very attracted to you, but I'm not just looking for sex. Does that make sense?"

"No."

His laugh caresses you like a physical touch, and you squirm in your seat, exasperated at the effect he has on you.

"You're really not making this easy," he grins.

"I don't owe you easy," you scoff, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from returning his grin.

"You're absolutely right," he states as he stands up, throwing a quick glance at the table where his friends are sitting before returning his gaze to you. "You don't owe me anything," he continues, smiling as he plucks his sunglasses from the neckline of his t-shirt and slides them on; he waits several seconds -- like he's waiting for you to say something -- before spinning around and heading back to his bros.

He takes three steps before you call his name, your pulse hammering when he turns around and removes his sunglasses before locking eyes with you; you stand up and take a small step in his direction, every pleasure point in your body throbbing in unison when he quickly closes the distance with two long strides, looking down into your upturned face. A thrill shoots through you at how much taller he is than you. Focus! you think to yourself, swallowing hard and licking your lips before speaking.

"Ummm, do you have any plans for this Friday?"

"Not yet," he grins. "What do you have in mind?"

"I have no idea," you admit. "Maybe just grab ice cream or lunch or something?"

"Why don't we exchange numbers then we can decide later?"

"Okay," you mutter, feeling a little lightheaded as y'all exchange numbers.

He eventually slides his phone back in the pocket of his shorts and gives you a cheeky grin. "Just so you know, I don't have sex on the first date," he says, gracing you with another deep laugh that sizzles your nerve endings as your mouth drops open in shock. "Just kidding," he chuckles.

"You better be kidding," you warn in a playful voice. "This is just a friendly hang-out, right? Not a date."

"Of course, very presumptuous of me to call it a date." He gives you a wink before sliding his sunglasses back on.

His wink hits you in all the right places, and you quickly slide your sunglasses on to mask your reaction. "Totally presumptuous," you grumble, matching his grin before spinning around and heading toward the parking lot; you take about a dozen steps before throwing a look over your shoulder, a jolt of heat rushing through you when you see him still watching you. "Fuck," you mutter under your breath, picking up your pace as you head toward your car. "What have I got myself into?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Y/n?"

Gina's voice snaps you out of your flashback. "Yeah?"

"Girl, you must've been having a spicy daydream because you were damn near drooling!" she chortles.

"Just thinking about when Joe and I first met," you grin, heading to the fridge to pull the frosting out. "Let me get these cupcakes frosted then I'll help you set up a little tablescape for your V Day dinner."

"Martha Stewart ain't got nothing on you," she giggles.

"Damn right," you laugh, grabbing your piping bag and dropping a star tip in before letting your mind wander, a sizzle of anticipation running through you as you think about the night to come.

[tightjeansjavi]

My Dearest,

A/N: so, while I was in Galena for my girls trip this weekend…my friend and I went into a bookstore and that’s where the inspiration struck! Ulysses Grant wrote letters to his wife (My Dearest Julia) from June 4th, 1844 to February 2, 1854. Of course I immediately had to throw Joel into the narrative, with a twist ;) please have your tissue boxes at the ready for this one and remember, fiction can’t hurt you! Also, big thank you and kisses to @beardedjoel for sobbing along with me while I wrote these series of letters 💘 P.S I know California wasn’t founded as a state until 1850…but let’s just pretend!

~word count: 1.9k~

Summary: a series of letters written by Joel Miller, a hopeless romantic yearning for your embrace once more.

Pairing | forbidden love!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: angst, allusion to smut, infertility, pining, hopeless romantic, unrequited love, forbidden love, major character death, alcoholism, death by alcohol poisoning, yearning, no age gap, mentions of social status, somewhat historically accurate language, no happy ending, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is my dearest, +18 minors dni! (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

June 4th, 1844

My Dearest,

I am deeply remorseful for the events that transcribed three days ago. I know I have put you in an undesirable situation now with your father’s wishes for your arranged marriage to the rich banker's son. Forgive me, for I don’t care to remember his name. My dearest, do not put the blame upon yourself. If we had known that there were prying, hateful eyes watching us, I would have waited for you in the stables and not inside your chambers. Jealously drives even the sanest of people to do the unforgivable. The deep wounds your father has inflicted upon me will heal, but my heart? Oh, how it aches for you, my dearest. If I were not a coward, I would turn back and face the gallows just to see your face one last time, for what else is a man to do when he is in love? I’m heading west, like we planned in the gardens, in hopes that you will follow me and go against your father’s wishes. Please write to me soon, tell me that you are safe, and grace me with your sweet words.

Your devoted Joel.

-

July 13, 1844

My Dearest,

California is beautiful and my eyes are seeing the ocean for the very first time. I wonder what your view is? Last I heard you were moving to New York. Is it true? Please tell me it’s a lie. I would be naive to think that what is written in the papers to be false, but my heart is still holding on. Are you moving to New York because of me? I’m so sorry, my dearest. We should have been more careful. I can still smell your perfume, and feel the ghost of your lips on my skin. I am no poet, but if I was, perhaps your father would think highly of me.

I dream of you even in the daytime.

Please write to me, dearest.

J.M

-

September, 7th 1844

My Dearest,

There is a sweetness on my tongue that I have not felt the indulgence of for many moons and suns. I worried that I would never hear from you again, that I would become another distant memory fading into ash. I forbade this from happening, dearest. We are thousands of miles apart, and all I wish for is to see your face once more. Do you wish for the same, dearest? To see your Joel, to feel his warm embrace? Please don’t forget me, please. I know in your heart that you still feel for me. California calls your name as it did mine. Come back to me, dearest.

Yours most affectionately,

Joel

-

January 12th, 1845

My Dearest,

I have not heard from you in months and my heart cannot bare it any longer. Why do you not write to me, dearest? I’ve enrolled in classes, maybe I’ll even become the next great American author! Would your father accept me then, if I was no longer a penniless man? I think he would. Your father is a very simple man in those regards. If only my status in society didn’t matter. Do you lie awake in bed and think of me, dearest? Does your dream state float off to the thoughts of your Joel? My dearest, my love for you has not changed, only grown stronger. Has yours for me felt all the same?

Joel

-

July 11th, 1845

My Dearest,

I write to you with a heavy heart and an anger that has never once possessed me. Please tell me it isn’t true. That you have fallen for another, the rich banker's son? It cannot be true. The papers lie, dearest. Your heart belongs to me, does it not? It must. You promised! You said that no matter what happened, no matter the consequences, we would end up together. You spoke those words so sweetly upon my ear when I laid beneath your sheets, dearest. Back in Texas, in your abandoned home, the stench of me still lingers. When you receive this letter, close your eyes and imagine me there with you, wherever that may be. I’ll come to New York, I swear it. I’ll come find you!

Please, write to me soon, dearest. Do not allow this to be the end of our story, I beg of you.

Yours always,

Joel Miller

-

October, 1845

My Dearest,

This morning I write to you about the thoughts of reminiscing on our love. Something so sweet, fresh, ripened, but not yet spoiled. Do you remember the night we first met? We were just children then. All bright eyed and filled with curiosity. I remember the bows in your braided hair, your mother scolding you for them, slapping your cheek and yanking them from your braids. You wept with your face buried in your hands, and I comforted you. Your mother taught you how to curtsey, how to engage in small talk and forced you to wear those unbreathable garments that you hated so. I showed you how to run, to make mud pies and swim in the river. Do you remember the night of our first kiss? The first time our lips touched and my life held a meaning again? The foul mouthed, stable hand boy winning the affections of a girl such as you. If I bring my fingers to my lips now, I can feel your kiss there, too. I moved back to Texas, dearest. I wanted to feel closer to you. Write to me soon, and in your letter tell me that you wish for me to come to New York to be with you.

I am inconsolable without your presence at my side.

Yours devotedly,

Joel Miller

P.S. Every night I pray to the moon and stars that we will be in one another’s embrace very soon. I have never been a religious man by any means, but I find myself praying for you, my dearest.

-

March 29th, 1846

My Dearest,

It is spring once again, and everything is in bloom! A new family has moved into your abandoned home, and I am back to my roots. I have given up my dreams to be an author, but I write to you, still. I missed being around the horses more than you could possibly imagine. There’s a piece missing here, and that piece is you. The new family I work for has a daughter around your age. She’s pretty, beautiful even, but she’s not you, my dearest. She’ll never be you. Her hair isn’t the right length, her eyes the wrong shade, her laugh isn’t yours, her mannerisms are all wrong. She yearns for my affections, but my heart belongs to another. I will not commit adultery against you, my sweet. Even in my loneliest hours, I will not give into my sins against you. She would make a fine wife, and her parents are unlike your own, but she will never be you, and she will never possess my heart.

I yearn for you.

Your Joel

-

July 2nd, 1846

My Dearest,

I write to you with sweat dripping down my brow. I cannot sleep, the Texas heat has played a cruel trick upon my mind. I awoke to your voice, whispering my name through the billowing curtains. I taste your sweet kiss and the oncoming summer storm, but you are not here. Am I going insane? I fear that I am. What is the weather like in New York? Write to me soon, I beg of you.

Joel Miller

-

September 23rd, 1847

My Dearest,

I am facing my loneliest night yet, and I picture you laying beside me beneath my sheets. I have scrapped up enough money to finally buy you a ring! Isn’t that the most wonderful news? Tomorrow evening, after supper, I will head into town to the jewelers and buy you a ring that shines more brilliantly than the heavens above. You’ll wait for me, won’t you? Promise me that you will.

With love,

Your Joel

-

January, 1848

My Dearest,

Today is the day where I wish I never awoke. I wish to stay in a sweet slumber where my dreams are filled with you. You cannot marry him, please. Tell your father that you don’t accept the banker's son’s hand in marriage! He will never know you as I do, my dearest. He will never satisfy you the way that I can. He will turn his nose up at your politics, your drinking habits, your antics and wildness. But I love you as so. Come back to me, runaway with me. I can give you so much happiness if you only let me. How will your husband to-be react when he finds that you cannot bear him children? When the marriage is to be consummated, and he strips you of your skirts and touches you where only I have been, how will he feel? I worry for you, my dearest. I remember the night that we first became one. Do you still think of the way I moved in you? I still feel the phantom crescents of your nails in my back. I wish the marks left there were permanent, so I would always have a piece of you with me. Tell me that you remember the way that my kisses feel, my taste on your tongue, my voice, my body moving with yours. There was a time when you wanted to bear my children, and begged me to fill your womb with my seed. We waited and waited, but your womb never swelled with life no matter how many times we tried. You assumed my feelings for you would sour, but they only grew.

If you accept the banker's son's hand in marriage, I wish to never see the sunrise again.

Joel Miller

-

May 7th, 1848

My Dearest,

I have never wept more than I have this morn. I shredded the papers, I pounded my fists into the earth and spooked every horse in the stable. Even the heavens weep with me, my dearest. Can I even call you that any longer? You wear his ring upon your finger, awake beneath his sheets, smelling of him. I’m sorry, my dearest. I’m sorry I could never be enough for you. I have tried so hard, and have continued to fail. My heart aches, and I wish I could rip it from my chest and stab it till all movement ceases. I wish to not feel any longer. I have lost all hope, and I fear that my attempts to hear from you have been fruitless. My devoted letters are out there, somewhere. Or perhaps you have collected them. Perhaps you did not awaken in his sheets. Perhaps you are on your way back to me. I’ll wait for you, my dearest.

Undoubtedly yours,

Joel Miller

-

June 4th, 1848

My Dearest,

In my loneliest hour, I write to you. If you ever receive this letter, do not weep for me. You and I were cut from a separate cloth since birth. I was not born into wealth. I was not fed from silver spoons. My clothes are tattered, the soles of my boots are worn down. All I have to my name is my penmanship and my memories of you. Think of me sweetly, will you? I wish you only happiness and love. I have turned into a drunk, my dearest. Alcohol soothes my mind, woes, and ailments. I hear your voice so vividly when I am in this state. You’re here beside me now, watching as I write my final letter. I can reach out and touch your cheek, soft, supple. You smell of saccharine honey and lavender fields. Your laugh is my favorite tune, and I can hear it now. Sing me a lullaby, my darling as I close my eyes and dream of you for a final time. If another universe exists, I hope I am rich. I hope I am the wealthiest man who is adored by your mother and father. I hope that on the night we meet again, I present you with a ring forged from my heart, a piece of me that has forever belonged to you. I hope I am fed from a silver spoon, dressed in the finest garments, attend every gala with you on my arm as my lady, my wife, my reason to live. I hope to bless you with as many children as you so desire. I have always loved you, my dearest, from the moment we met, I have been yours.

Farewell,

Your Joel.

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[little-diable]

The Test of Time - Tommy Shelby (smut)

This is an idea I have been playing with for a while. It is very dear to me, so I hope it'll also be to you! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: When Professor Shelby meets his new student, he's instantly fascinated by her, not understanding why he feels this connected to her. But the second their hands touch, both feel themselves thrown back in time, meeting centuries ago. It seems like love will always stand the test of time.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, lots of fluff, mentions some war time stuff and blood, small breeding kink, professor x reader relationship, age gap

Pairing: Soldier!Tommy x nurse!fem!reader / Professor!Tommy x student!fem!reader (3.7k words)

4th of August 1916, Northern France

The air was sticky, his hands were muddy, dry, and heavy. He had to blink more often than his eyes liked, worsening the headache he had been plagued by for months. A shaky exhale left him, momentarily squeezing his eyes shut to try and keep calm. There was no way out, he was stuck, below the ground, and if there was one thing he couldn’t do, it was panicking – at least not if he wanted to stay alive. He couldn’t risk being shot for going against a command, for being frightened like a boy.

Voices echoed through the tunnel, ringing in his ears like another bomb going off in the distance. They had to work fast. They had to work precisely, otherwise they’d eventually be buried by the dark soil, swallowing them whole as the enemy won the battle. 

“Shelby!” A raspy voice ripped him out of his panicked state, he was shoved, forced to move faster, to keep on digging even though his hands were bleeding and the blisters kept growing. He had to keep digging, had to keep digging, had to keep digging. Before the darkness would swallow him whole. 

February 2024, Birmingham 

The sound of his shoes meeting the ground echoed through the empty hallway, eyes set on his black iPhone. It was too fucking early for his liking, silently cursing his faculty for forcing him to hold these early morning classes. Not once had he met a motivated student who wanted to talk about the First World War with him at 8 am, and as much as Tommy disliked the students he found himself surrounded by, he couldn’t blame them for being tired.

If he could, he’d occupy all afternoon classes, wanting to discuss his research topics with those who were actually interested in modern warfare, strategies, politics, and so on. And yet he knew the chance was slim, forced to back down and make room for those who taught the mandatory classes. 

With a sigh leaving him, Tommy stepped into the room he taught in every Tuesday morning, putting down his bag and shrugging out of his coat before he lifted his gaze. He was still on his own, wondering when the handful of students would pour into the room, probably seconds before class started. 

Tommy plopped down on the uncomfortable chair, he placed his laptop down – hoping that he could at least catch up with the morning news while still being engulfed in silence. He tried to focus on the words, tried to cling to the information he was fed, though without any luck, interrupted by the sickly sweet “Morning!” echoing through the room. 

His eyes found an unfamiliar pair, not used to being greeted this enthusiastically in the morning. It took him a second to reply, eyebrows furrowed as he studied the woman. She must have been young, and yet he instantly found himself drawn to her gorgeous features, the soft hair he wanted to feel beneath his fingertips. 

“(Y/n), right?” She had emailed him about a month ago, warning the professor that she’d have to miss the first two weeks of his course due to some family trouble. Back then he hadn’t cared about her missing out on it, it was on her to catch up with his teaching anyways, but now he couldn’t help but wonder how he had managed to miss out on having her around for even just a second. 

“That’s me! Sorry again for my absence, Professor Shelby.” He shot her a small smile, not daring to speak up as his throat grew tighter. What the fuck was going on with him? Tommy felt as if he was drowning, as if the cold ocean was soaking through his black clothes, sticking to him to add more weight to his frame. He didn’t know her, knew only her name, and yet he felt strangely connected to her. 

He needed to get a grip, needed to redirect his focus before he’d forget his surroundings and the information he was supposed to pass on to his students.

……

“Professor Shelby?” (Y/n)’s voice echoed through his office, making a small smile tug on his lips as his eyes found hers. She stepped into the room, carefully closing the door behind herself before she walked up to him. Wordlessly he pointed towards the chair placed close to his table, piercing blue eyes watching her sit down.

“I have to say, I’m impressed, (y/n). You’re the first to ever score 100 on this essay.” The smile that grew on her lips left Tommy choking on his air, forcing his eyes away from her face. It had been a selfish move to invite all students to his office hour, telling them that he’d like to give them each some verbal feedback. But deep down Tommy didn’t give a single fuck about his students, at least not about the others, having eyes only for her. 

“I wanted to leave a good impression, especially after missing out on so much.” He was forced to look at her again, shooting her another smile as he reached the essay out for her to take. His heart started racing the second her fingers touched his, vision growing blurry, unable to notice that she was going through the same confusing sensations. 

“Help! We need help!” The screams echoed through the tent, ringing in her ears as she watched the soldiers move closer. Her eyes were instantly drawn to the soldier whose face was covered in blood and mud, forcing her to run towards them. 

“Place him down over there, quick!” Panic was flushing through her. No matter how many soldiers she had helped before, no matter how many lives she had saved, (y/n) couldn’t help but fear these moments when she held their lives in her hands. She needed to work quickly, and couldn’t wait for the other nurses to return from their visitations, there was no time to lose. “I need you to hold him down.” 

Her eyes met a pair of piercing blue ones, momentarily robbing her of any air left in her lungs. She had to redirect her focus, bloody fingers trying to clean the soldier’s cheeks as the handsome man held him down. No words were spoken between them, she needed to concentrate, needed to stop the soldier’s bleeding. Feeling the other man near did something to her, something unfamiliar she hadn’t ever felt before. 

“Here, I need you to bite down on this.” She pushed a wooden piece between the guy’s teeth as she reached for her tweezers. A deep inhale of air was sucked into her lungs. Even though it wasn’t the first time she was about to pull a bullet from somebody’s skin, (y/n) couldn’t help but feel nervous. Before she could even try to move, she felt the handsome man’s hand on her knee, softly squeezing the flesh to try and wordlessly support her. She could do it, and could help the hurt soldier, especially with the support of the man who was sitting close to her. 

“Alright, this will hurt.”

“Uhm,” Tommy had to clear his throat, blinking a few times before his vision began to clear up. (Y/n) was still sitting close to him, wearing the same confused expression as Tommy. Both stared at one another for a few moments, wordlessly, before she grasped the essay. Her eyes flickered down to the paper, trying to recollect her thoughts. 

“Thank you again for this, I think it’s best if I leave now.” He didn’t get a chance to reply, could only watch her disappear before he could even try to speak up. Tommy’s heart was still racing, mind not understanding what had just happened.

Had this been some trick of his brain, something he had read about in a book or seen in a movie? And yet it didn’t explain to him why the woman had looked just like (y/n), and why (y/n) had been just as dazed as he had been. 

It took Tommy a while to move, shaking his head as he drowned the last sips of his now cold coffee. He needed to get out of his office, needed to grab a few pints with some friends, anything to distract himself from what had just happened, and from (y/n). 

……

“Here, let me.” She watched him light his match, stepping closer to help her light her cigarette. Both blew out the blue smoke, watching it dance in the warm August breeze. Tommy was covered in soil, hands and face dirty, just like his hair, and yet neither of them seemed to care, wanting to feel one another close.

It had been days since she had helped his fellow soldier, making it through the night and all the following ones, left to survive with a big scar gracing his cheek. Ever since that day, Tommy and (y/n) had searched for one another, needing to learn more about the one they couldn’t stop thinking of. 

“Do you miss home, Tommy?” (Y/n)’s whispers rang in his ears, loud enough to distract him from his surroundings, the shots going off in the distance, the calls, and cries. He was sure that no matter where he’d be, no matter who he’d be surrounded by, if (y/n) was close, he’d always find himself focused on her. 

“Always do.” A hum left her at his reply, unconsciously moving closer to him, breath getting stuck in her lungs as his arm found its way around her waist. Their eyes met, his piercingly blue and full of pain and sorrow, hers filled with questions, longings, and confusion. She watched his gaze flicker down to her lips, taking another drag of his cigarette before he dipped his head down. 

(Y/n) didn’t dare move, silently praying that he’d kiss her, that he wouldn’t pull away, wrapped in darkness’s comforting veil. But before he could move, they heard the calls growing louder, forcing all soldiers to return to their positions. Their eyes met once again as he stubbed his cigarette out, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and disappeared.

(Y/n) woke with a gasp, hands pressed to the warm mattress she had been sleeping on for the past hours. Her heart was pounding, her mind racing, still focused on the dream she had just been forced through. Ever since she had experienced that strange moment in Professor Shelby’s office, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking of him, of what her mind had pushed her through – what had felt like a memory but couldn’t be one. And now she was dreaming of him, her professor, and yet he wasn’t a professor, at least not in her dream.

She needed to talk to him, or at least touch him again to figure out of it had been a trick of her brain or something that would happen again. He had looked just as confused, dazed even, unsure what had happened the second their hands had touched. Perhaps she could speak to him after class, or show up at his office, whatever it took to be close to him again. 

……

“Professor? Do you have a moment for me?” He had disappeared too quickly after class for (y/n) to even try to catch up with him, forcing her to wait a few hours before she could turn up at his office. She watched him take off his round glasses, leaning back in his chair as a soft “Of Course” left him. 

For a few moments, they were engulfed in silence, eyes wandering over one another’s features, wondering how to express what they were plagued by. But even though (y/n) tried her hardest to speak up, she couldn’t, throat too tight, mouth too dry. Professor Shelby broke their silence as he cleared his throat, rising to his feet to slowly move towards (y/n). 

He kept his distance and leaned back against his desk, and yet she felt him close. Though not close enough, feeling herself pulled towards him like a puzzle searching for its last missing piece. With a sigh breaking through him, he reached his hand out for (y/n) to take, watching the hesitation tugging on her features. 

“It’s alright, I don’t understand it myself, but I guess it’s on us to figure this out. Whatever it is.” Her teeth ran along her lower lip as (y/n) stepped towards him, letting go of one last exhale before she carefully grasped his hand. 

“Look at me, (y/n). I’ve got you, I’m alive.” His voice rang in her ears, watching the tears drip down her cheeks as she stared up at him. She clung to his hand, cursing this very war for pushing these unfamiliar emotions through her. God, she had counted the hours, had lost hope, sure that Tommy was no longer alive. And yet here he was, alive, breathing, not even bleeding. 

She hastily took a step away, eyes wide, lips parted. He had his eyes focused on his hand, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Neither of them dared to speak up, not understanding what was happening, why these things that felt like memories were pushed through their brains. Only slowly did the professor dare to lift his gaze, studying her panicked features.

“What is happening? What is that?” (Y/n) choked on her words, torn between confusion and the pain she felt deep inside of her. It felt as if she was grieving something or rather someone. A pain she was so unfamiliar with, she couldn’t even understand what it was trying to tell her, what she was plagued by. 

“I don’t know, (y/n).” He spoke her name all too softly, sounding just like it had in her head moments ago. With wide eyes she kept studying him, needing to feel what had happened again, still not believing that this was something but a trick of her brain. All he did was watch her, eyes following her every move, even as she came to a halt in front of him, standing far closer than moments ago, he didn’t dare move. If there was one thing Tommy wanted to avoid, it was scaring her. 

“Can I try something?” Their eyes held contact as (y/n) murmured the words, waiting for his spoken consent before she moved. A quiet “Yes” left the professor, wondering what she was about to do, not expecting to feel her soft lips meeting his.

“You have to be quiet, love.” His raspy voice left her buzzing with excitement. Tommy had her pressed against a car, swallowed by darkness. Their lips met carefully at first, with her arms slung around his neck, and his hands placed on her waist. Neither of them could hold back, deepening the kiss within seconds as they hoped that no other soldiers, nurses, or commanders would find them. 

“Don’t stop, please.” He had taken over the kiss, forcing her down on his desk to stand between her thighs. Both were torn between the pictures their minds were painting and the feeling of one another’s hands exploring their bodies. Whatever it was that had pushed them together, they didn’t want to break the spell, needed to keep close. 

“Will you let me have a taste? Ever since I saw you for the first time I wanted to get my mouth between those pretty thighs of yours.” Her eyes were wide, lips parted to try and suck some air into her aching lungs. (Y/n) could only nod her head, forgetting how to speak, how to express the emotions she so desperately wanted to explain to him.

With their eyes holding contact, Tommy undid her trousers, pulling them down her legs before he pushed her damp panties to the side. The groan that clawed through him at the sight of her bare cunt left her walls clenching around nothing, needing to feel his fingers, his mouth on her. But the second he brushed two fingers through her slit, collecting drops of arousal, she found herself stuck in another memory. 

“Oh god, oh god. Right there.” Her eyes rolled back into her head, pressed against the mattress of the bed she hadn’t been lying on for years. It had been hours since they had returned from France, not daring to leave one another’s side once, hours they had spent hiding away from those who had waited on them for years, only focused on exploring their bodies without needing to worry about curious bystanders. His tongue brushed along her folds, moaning at her taste as his arms tightened their grip on her thighs. 

“I guess you’ve always tasted this sweet.” His words drew tears to her eyes, overcome by a wave of unfamiliar emotions, set on drowning her. Tommy kept moving his fingers as his tongue explored the spots she needed him to touch, choking on his name. She needed to hold onto him, needed to bury her fingers in his skin, but her fingers couldn’t move, could only cling to the edge of his table. “My pretty girl, fuck, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” 

“What a sight for sore eyes, I’m a fucking lucky bastard.” Tommy’s raspy voice filled their shared bedroom. He leaned back in his chair, chest bare, legs stretched out. Smoke left his nostrils, eyes set on her naked frame. She walked closer with a smirk on her lips, enjoying the way he marvelled at her, how he watched her every move. “I don’t deserve you, my pretty wife.”

His wife? Them, Married? Fuck, if these flashes were truly memories of their past life, she couldn’t help but thank whoever had pushed them together once again. Another shot at this life with Tommy by her side, another shot at this life with a man she had loved in other centuries. Love that would always stand the test of time. 

“I need to be inside of you, will you let me fuck you?” (Y/n) pulled Tommy in for a kiss, groaning into his mouth as she felt his covered bulge rubbing against her sensitive cunt. Their kiss was all tongue and teeth, growing more heated by the second, while Tommy’s impatient fingers freed his cock. He parted from her to roll a condom down his cock, and yet their eyes never broke eye contact. “Last chance to stop this, I need you to tell me you want this too.” 

“Oh fuck, of course I want this, Tommy. Fuck me, fuck me like you’ve always fucked me.” Her glassy eyes met his, both were clearly overcome by the emotions they still needed to adjust to. He pushed into her slowly, fingers interlaced with hers to hold her close. There was no need to adjust, it seemed like their bodies remembered one another the same way their minds did. 

“Forever mine, I will never let you go.” Tommy rasped his words into the darkness as he fucked her into their mattress. He couldn’t help but admire her, needing to take in every inch of (y/n), silently hoping that tonight he’d get to fuck another baby into her. Her moans left him smirking, fingers rubbing her pulsing bundle in sync with his thrusts, needing to push her over the edge any moment now. 

She didn’t allow herself to wonder what their life together had been like, and how many children they have had together – at least not at that very moment. All (y/n) could concentrate on was the feeling of Tommy fucking her ruthlessly, cock forcing her walls apart with every thrust. 

With her forehead pushed against his shoulder, (y/n) moaned his name, already close to letting go. Both were shaken up by what kept on happening to them whenever they touched one another in another place, bringing up memories that felt like they were straight out of a movie. It was unfamiliar and confusing, and yet it was anything but scary, no, it left them filled with excitement, needing to learn more about one another and the life they had once shared. 

“It’s alright, love, cum for me, cum on my cock.” Tommy’s gritty voice left her choking on her gasps, letting go with a moan. He kept on snapping his hips, enjoying the way she clenched around him, how she trembled from her intense orgasm. All because of him. With his thoughts set on (y/n), he came, letting go with a groan. 

For a few moments, neither of them parted from one another, holding on before he slowly pulled away. Neither of them spoke as they redressed, caught in their thoughts. Only as Tommy pulled her in for another kiss did (y/n) allow another smile to tug on her lips. 

“If you’ll allow it, I want to love you in this lifetime too, hold you close like we were destined to be.” With tears once again welling up in her eyes, (y/n) pulled him in for a breathless kiss. 

Tommy had his eyes set on her sleeping figure, hand stroking her hair. His thoughts were torn between the memories of the tunnel, of the darkness he hadn’t been able to escape from for long. But it had all been worth it, because of her, because of the woman he had married, the woman who was the mother of his children. And if there was one thing Tommy was wishing for, it was getting the chance to love her in all upcoming lifetimes too.

[mclennonlgbt]

(JUST LIKE) STARTING OVER WAS DEFINITELY FOR PAUL – a compilation

A meaningful wordplay As you know, John attached great importance to the lyrics of his songs. He liked to smuggle in word games and hidden meanings. Let's look at a fragment of the lyrics of "(Just Like) Starting Over". It's time to spread our wings and fly Wings was Paul's band in the 1970s.

Don't let another day go by

"Another Day" is a song by Paul and Linda that was released as the A-side of a non-album single in February 1971. It was Paul's debut single, following the Beatles break-up in 1970. (Sidenote: giving credits to both himself and Linda, Paul broke up the Lennon-McCartney partnership, angering Allen Klein).

my love

"My Love" is a 1973 song by Wings. The single was viewed as Wings' first significant success.

2. The demos

In the first demo, John uses the word "walrus":

Everyday we used to make it love so why can’t we be making love – it’s easy. The time has come, the walrus said, for you and me to stay in bed again, it’ll be just like starting over

The walrus is a famous motif from Beatles songs. In the song "I Am The Walrus" (1967) John declares that he is the titular walrus, a year later in "Glass Onion" he stated: „And here’s another clue to you all – the walrus was Paul”. In "God" (1970) John sings: "I was the walrus." In an interview from 1969 or 1970, George jokes: „And if you are listening, I am the walrus too”. Regardless of which Beatles was the walrus, John is for sure giving us an interesting clue here.

As for „in bed”:

Here's another fascinating demo... This requires no comment. It's just that John suddenly referred to "Why Don't We Do it In the Road", a song by Paul from the Beatles era.

EDIT:

The whole fragment is:

Just take your clothes off honey, and stick your nose in money.. why don’t we… do it in the road?! (Laughs) A little hotel where we used to screw A little place down in Montauk Just you, me, the cook and the servants too

As @i-am-the-oyster pointed out (the screen is theirs) - it's a 17 minute drive from Paul's house in the Hamptons to Montauk Motel.

3. John explaining who the song is for

„I’m not aiming, I am not aiming at 16 year olds. If they can dig it, please dig it. But when I was singing and writing this and working with her, I was visualizing all the people of my age group from the 60s. Being in their 30s and 40s now, just like me, and having wives and children and having gone through everything together, I am singing to them! I hope the young kids like it as well, but I’m really talking to the people that grew up with me and saying: „Here I am now, how are you? How’s your relationship going? Did you get through it all? Wasn’t the 70s a drag? You know, here we are, let’s try and make the 80s good, you know, because it’s still up to us to make what we can of it. It’s not out of our control”. I still believe in love, peace. I still believe in positive thinking when I can do it. I’m not always positive but when I am, I try and project it”.

Source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rqxPx2Tvf6A

Let’s point out that the song which convinced John to come out of retirement was „Coming up” by Paul. You want a love to last forever One that will never fade away I want to help you with your problem Stick around, I say

(…)

You want some peace and understanding So everybody can be free I know that we can get together We can make it, stick with me

BONUS (this is not evidence or premise, but maybe Paul understood that the song was addressed to him): Paul's reaction to the song after John's death.

„…Time passed. Paul locked the door of his home studio and played (Just Like) Starting Over, the first single from Double Fantasy. Top volume. For days”.

- Christopher Sandford, „McCartney”

EDIT:

(it's also @i-am-the-oyster's reveal): One Sweet Dream podcast did an interview where May Pang agreed with the host (JL)SO was for Paul and emphasised that it wasn't about Yoko -- it's a patrons-only episode so I can't link it, but it's April 2023, around the 1h29 mark).

[starlitmark]

Summary: You just love how your husband looks in uniform. Pairing: Police Officer!San x fem!reader Tropes: Married au, established relationship au Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language Smut Warnings: uniform kink, mentions of handcuffs, fingering (f receive), unprotected sex, pet names, light choking, creampie Word Count: 1,184 Host Tags: @sanjoongie @thelargefrye Before You Interact February Filth Masterlist

Listen to ♡ Guilty by Taemin

The moment your husband steps through your front door, you throw yourself at him. Your lips are crushed against his in a heated kiss. San makes a small surprised noise but kisses you back. He wraps an arm around your waist while he places his coat on the hall tree with the other. He holds you tight against him as you kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, reeling at the feeling of his utility belt against your body. The small pouch where the handcuffs are held only makes your mind run through horribly filthy thoughts about your husband using them on you. You feel San smile against your lips before giving you one last peck. He pulls away a moment later. He still holds you against his body.

“Hi, beautiful.” He smiles brightly, “That was quite the welcome home.”

“That wasn’t it.” You admit, nibbling on your lower lip.

San chuckles, “What’s got you all worked up?”

The sound of his voice alone sends you into a desperate state. The fact that he’s in his uniform and holding you so close to his body doesn’t help. San leans in and kisses you softly. Despite tender kisses, your body burns with desperation for your husband.

“You just look so damn handsome in your uniform. Makes me feel a bit crazy.”

“Yeah?” San smirks against your lips, “Thinking about a hot police officer using his handcuffs on you?”

A small noise escapes your lips, only confirming his thoughts. He lifts you up before you can even ask him to take you to your bedroom. It’s second nature for you to wrap your legs around his waist. Your eyes are closed as you pepper kisses up and down his throat, but you can feel that he’s walking somewhere. Up the stairs, around the corner, you know damn well where your husband is heading. You feel your body gently lower until you lie on your bed. San pulls back, and you finally open your eyes again. 

“You’re so fucking pretty.” He muses.

“Thank you, officer.” You say the final word with a teasing lilt.

“So that’s how you wanna play it?” He smirks with a chuckle.

San grabs your waist and tugs you closer to the edge of the bed. You giggle, but it morphs into a gasp as your husband pulls your clothing off your lower half as his hands move. Once your clothing is discarded on the floor, he raises a hand to run two fingers through your already-soaked folds. Another small noise escapes your lips as he pushes the fingers into you. Seeing your already deadly handsome husband in his uniform while fingering you only plays further into this amazing fantasy you’re living out. 

You can see the shape of San’s bulge beneath his uniform pants. It takes everything in you not to beg him to fuck you immediately. Honesty, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to beg him to do so. Seeing him like this makes you much more desperate, though. Your husband brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing small circles as he continues to finger you.

“You want me to fuck you?” He questions, continuing his ministrations, “You’re already so soaked, pretty.”

“Y-yes, sir.” you choke out, covering your lower face lazily with your forearm.

San’s eyes darken, and he captures your arm with his free hand. He pins it above your head; your eyebrows furrow with pure debauched need. He leans in close enough to your face that you can feel his breath on your face. He still continues to fuck his fingers into you while holding heated eye contact.

“Sannie, please.” You whimper quietly.

“You really do get off on seeing me in my work uniform, huh? Such a dirty thing.” He teases.

He pulls his fingers out of you and finally starts removing his uniform. He’s dragging it out. Each button is undone slowly. He slowly undoes his belt. San knows exactly how enticing it all is to you. The moment he’s naked, he crawls back over you. The tip of his cock brushes just to the side of your entrance, but not close enough that you get any release. You move your hips so that he gets the message without any words being exchanged. He smirks down at you before guiding his cock into you. You pull your husband down against your body. Even though you still have your (his) shirt on, you can feel his body heat through the fabric almost as well as skin-to-skin contact.  

“You keep clenching around me, sweetheart. Maybe I should use my handcuffs on you next time.” “Sannie, please, fuck.” You moan, “Want that so bad!”

He thrusts harder, hearing your begs, “Yeah? Want me to lock you up against our bedframe and have my way with you?”

Hearing his words makes you moan louder and bury your head against this strong shoulder. Your orgasm starts building up inside you as San continues to fuck you in both the most tender and intense way you’ve ever known. His hands wander across your skin to any place he can reach. His hands are just calloused enough to make your skin have trails of goosebumps behind. He’s always had this effect on you, even long before he started his career, and he didn’t have a slight bit of callouses from his work.

“You keep fucking squeezing me, baby.” He groans, “You gonna cum? Make a mess of my cock?”

“Sannie,” you moan, kissing his shoulder, “‘M close!”

San pulls back slightly, dragging one hand up your body until it’s against your throat. The sensation of him holding your neck in his hand, tilting your chin up enough to force you to hold eye contact, brings your high closer. He crashes his lips against yours as he fucks you harder. He puts the slightest bit of pressure on your throat, and you see stars as your orgasm shatters you. San mumbles praise against your lips as you shake and moan under him. 

The feeling of your walls convulsing around him brings his orgasm crashing in. He cums inside you, staying deep inside as he gives weak, shallow thrusts. Even after you both start to catch your breath, he stays inside you. He releases your neck and starts to line small kisses across your jaw and neck. He pulls out slowly. You wince at the slightly uncomfortable feeling of his cum starting to leak out of you. San chuckles at you before finding an already-used towel to clean you up a bit. After he ensures that you’re both as clean as you can be without showering yet, he climbs into bed and pulls you to cuddle up against his chest.

“For the record,” he starts, “I won’t be using my work cuffs on you.”

You pout and look up at him from your place against his chest, “Why not? I think cuffs could be fun!”He shakes his head, “I said not the work cuffs,” he drops a lingering kiss to your lips, “I didn’t say anything about not getting a pair for here.”

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[amourdivine]

୨ ♡ ୧︰ WHOSE MIND ARE YOU ON?   ઉ   PAC.

Hello, angels! I hope you're doing well! Today, I bring to you one of my favorite reading topics. Let's get curious and see whose mind are you on, shall we? If you liked this reading, please consider tipping me at @ amourdivinetarot@gmail.com via paypal! xo ♡

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HOW TO CHOOSE YOUR PILE.  take a few deep breaths and look at each picture separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later!

amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

୨୧ PILE ONE

ace of pentacles ✧ the tower ✧ two of wands

Oh, this is someone whom you've had a huge falling out with. The aftermath has left both of you scarred, the foundation of your connection has crumbled, but both of you still check up on one another. For one half of this pile, this is purely platonic, like an ex friend or co-worker. For the other half, this was a friends with benefit situation... feelings made things even messier and the two of you got caught up in a thunderstorm.

Regardless, this person holds so much love and so much hatred inside their heart. They're so angry, but they miss you so much. They look at your old photos, reminisce on old memories. I just saw a best friend necklace in my mind's eye. They want to talk to you, but in that exact same second, they are reminded that things aren't that way anymore. It pains them, it ails them.

They likely write about you in the form of poetry, maybe journaling. They listen to songs about you, maybe even watch or read tarot readings in the hopes of finding closure. I genuinely don't think this person means any harm towards you, you're just both incredibly hurt by one another and I think distance has done you well so far. The waters need to calm down before the two of you can talk again, feelings need to be addressed and processed before you can cross paths.

This person misses you so badly, but I think the thought of this connection still brings up a lot of triggers to the surface. You may have some harsh aspects in synastry that create this tension or perhaps the two of you are fire signs. Sort of like a harsh Mars and Pluto aspect, but take it how it resonates. For your sake, it's important you address the feelings you have for this person (be it rage, hatred or love) so you don't feel trapped by this situation.

channeled messages and signs: best friend, betrayal, 10 of swords, "how could you?", "i stay up thinking of you", pinky promises, bikes, red sweater, october, insecure, competitive, jealous, leo, pick me, saturn, 333, 7, "you were mine".

୨୧ PILE TWO

the world ✧ the sun ✧ three of cups

Ah, this is someone who's away from you physically, but not emotionally. They love you so much. It's possible they have traveled for work or study temporarily, but they can't wait to come home to you, to be in your arms. It feels a mix of platonic and romantic energy, so please take it how it resonates. It could be someone who hasn't confessed their feelings to you verbally, but I think it's pretty darn obvious.

Either way, you make this person so happy, so giddy, so full of hope and love. You remind them that there are better times ahead and I think there's something about your smell, your embrace or smile that this person adores. You inspire them in so many ways, there's literally no one like you in this world. You're their favorite - and I think it's a mutual feeling here.

If this is someone whom you've met online, they're so eager to meet you. They probably daydream about it, they're taking active steps towards it too. They hope for ice cream-filled days under the sun and walking with you in the park. I feel very idyllic, it's wholesome and adventurous at the same time.

You bring a sense of courage and strength in this person, I think you're their "energy booster" in a way, either through your words or just who you are in general. You give this person a bit of a sweet, but fun adrenaline rush. They're so excited by the thought of you.

channeled messages and signs: cottagecore, wifey, strawberries, hot pink, neon green, astronomy, lauv, riding shotgun, roadtrip, plane flights, concert tickets, airports, "baby blue", kpop, "bestie", "bae".

୨୧ PILE THREE

ten of cups ✧ six of pentacles ✧ seven of swords (clarified by the two of cups)

This is someone well established and hardworking, someone who seems quite happy on the surface. They live in a shiny world, a perfect world. At least that's what it looks like on the surface.

This person is married and may have children already. You work with them, or under them. However happy or well-meaning this person may seem towards you, they are secretly very, very attracted to you. They want something more than professional or platonic with you, but they're keeping it under wraps right now.

I can't help but feel icky, like this person wants to have it all and that means going behind their partner's back in order to have you. I don't think they would ever come right and clean about this to anyone in this situation. You're like a shiny object this person wants to collect for themselves, but it's not like they'd care for you in any capacity. I Want it All by Arctic Monkeys started playing in my head. I think this is probably this person's view towards the world.

The Eight of Cups is at the back of the deck - be sure to not engage with this person emotionally, or any more than you already have. They're not honest about their feelings or intentions and it shows in the way they're sneaking around, while their partner's blissfully ignorant about it. Cheater, fuckboy energy!

channeled messages and signs: black and white, indie pop, millenial, 1989, 1990, power dynamics, chief, corporate nightmare, suits, fanfiction, beard, "don't look back", the fray, melancholia.

୨୧ PILE FOUR

five of cups ✧ seven of wands ✧ knight of swords

Whoever this is, I feel a more childish, impulsive energy. I don't know if this person is still in your life, but chances are they regret something they did or said to you. They're mourning your connection for the time being. I think you pulled away from them over a boundary they crossed or you stood your ground and they weren't expecting it. The friction here may not have been grand, but it was enough to make them feel guilty, regretful and even ashamed.

They're looking back on their actions and they're wishing they had a do-over. For some reason, I feel like this person is younger than you or just less experienced. They have a "younger sibling" feel to them, someone who's still a page. You were a source of stability and comfort to them, I think they still look up to you in some way, because I feel that they're ashamed over disappointing you.

However, as sad as it is, it doesn't seem like the end of your connection, for most of you. If this is a family member, like a cousin or sibling, chances are you'll both need to let this "marinate" and come back to talk about it later. They want to talk it out with you regardless, so it's not as definite as it may have seemed before. Even if you do have your guard up towards this person and vice-versa, give this connection a chance. I honestly feel like there's still a lot of love and admiration left between the two of you.

channeled messages and signs: "i wish you were here", victory, number 7, stubborn, "i'm the older one!", nitpicky, play-fighting, gossip, lullabies, bedtime stories, "i was trying to protect you", defensiveness, muddy waters, family portraits, petty, blocked.

୨୧ PILE FIVE

queen of pentacles ✧ the star ✧ five of pentacles ✧ three of wands

This is a motherly person. They could be an actual mother, an aunt, a grandma, or simply someone who embodies these nurturing traits, almost to the point of being a little overbearing. It can also be a "mom friend", someone who cares for others by giving them gifts. They're well established and might give unsolicited advice in regards to career, finances or relationships, but they mean well.

The reason why you're on this person's mind is because they're wishing you well. Maybe you suffered a loss recently, or you've been depressed and this person is hoping you can recover soon. I think you may have distanced yourself from others, but this person wants to help you. Still, they're waiting on you to reach out to them.

It's possible they've sent you flowers or "get well soon" texts and cards. I don't know why I get the feeling you were or are sick, struggling in some type of visible way and that's why they're worried. Maybe to you it doesn't seem like a big deal, but since this person is more experienced, they know how to deal with certain things and they really want to help you.

They might have offered you to stay at their place, or maybe have cooked you soup. I get very lovely, nurturing feelings from this pile. They wish you well and hope you can cheer up soon! For some, this is a person from your home country? You may be studying or working abroad and this mother figure wants you to take care of yourself. Aw!

channeled messages and signs: south korea, china, "i'm fine! i promise", subway, skip and loafer, exam season, 555, big city, hometown, missing the train, "i'm running late", overprotective, homemade meals, flu season, childhood movies, growing up, middle age crisis.

୨୧ PILE SIX

eight of cups ✧ eight of wands ✧ ten of swords ✧ the sun

This is such a back and forth energy, pile six. I won't lie, it feels difficult but exciting... but also really difficult? This person has been in and out of your life multiple times. You fight and then get back to each other. Then you fight again, going round and round.

It's interesting because The Sun is here, so you do make each other very happy, but you also make each other very miserable. I think this dynamic moved very fast unexpectedly. There's lots of attraction, but also lots of heartbreak. It could be a friends with benefits situation, maybe an ex you can't get over. I also heard "sneaky link" and the messages feel quite 18+, if you get what I mean.

You see, you enjoy this person's presence very much. Even when they tease you. And you've hurt each other many times, but I think you can't stop coming back to one another. There's this strange, unbreakable bond, but it's also a connection that triggers the both of you a lot and could've turned quite toxic.

This is the only pile where I had to pull more than four cards to channel the messages and I got the Queen of Wands. I think both of you are drawn to each other like moths to a flame, but there's some maturing needed if this connection is meant to progress. I didn't include advice in the previous pile, but the High Priestess came out for you as advice. So make sure to tune in to your emotions, your needs and how this person is engaging with you. Is this something truly fulfilling for you? How are you being called to step up your boundaries, your words and your actions? Connect to what you truly desire for yourself.

channeled messages and signs: "in my feels", drake songs, coquette aesthetic, water by tyla, pink hat, y2k, black girl magic, it girl, jennie kim, long hair, neon lights, freeze, nail art, "know your worth", boss, "cheer up buttercup", "you're so high maintenance", work crush, toxic by britney spears.

DISCLAIMER. Tarot is a divination tool, it’s not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. I don’t take responsibility for any choices made by you or others regarding my readings. Be mindful ♡

[myluvrrhea]

bed peace

Based on this Request!!

Pairings - Poly! rhea Ripley , Damian Priest x Female wrestler

Synthisis - Telling your partners about your pregnancy

Word count - 0.9k (I cooked with this one )

Warnings - Mentions of pregnancy, pregnancy (duh) Throwing up , Pregnancy symptoms, Feeling sick , Thats all rlly!!

My requests are open My lovesss

At first it was just a normal kind of sick. Coughing , sneezing , stuffy nose. But soon things took a turn when you started throwing up and feeling more sick than before. Damian and Rhea , your two lovers only knew the sick symptoms, not the throwing up. Another thing  they weren’t aware of was your late period. They thought it was just a normal sickness and it would pass by. And you for sure missed the ring. You wished you could see your fans and friends at work , but for now , you were on bed rest. 

It was an early morning. You were lucky Rhea and Damian had been in another state unless you couldn’t have left that easily. You grabbed your keys , and purse while unlocking the car. Getting into the car , you felt lightheaded at the thought of you being pregnant. You felt the tears prick your eyes at the thought. Happy ones at that. But at the same time, how would Rhea react? What about Damian? Would they be happy? Would they leave you? You thought these things to yourself but deep down , you didn’t want to know. You were too fragile for anything involving pregnancy.

When I arrived back home , I immediately went upstairs to our shared bathroom. Walking in , I closed the door and opened the box. I felt my heart beat faster at the thought of being pregnant. l felt the anxiety run through my veins as I thought about Rhea and Damian leaving me. 

Time skip - Location: Home

I sat on the toilet, waiting for the results to pop up. I felt my heart beat with anticipation. Turning the pregnancy test around and put it onto the bathroom counter. i looked back at the timer. 10 seconds. I waited in anticipation as the clock counted down from 10 to 9 , 8 , 7 , 6 , 5 , 4 , 3 , 2 , 1. Grabbing the pregnancy test with shaking hands I turned it over. 2 lines. I was pregnant. I felt a tear drop down my cheek as I rubbed my hands over my face. What was I going to do.

After the pregnancy test

I looked at my calendar. February 6th Rhea and Damian come back from Raw. “It was already 3:21pm they should be here by now”. I thought. Just then , I heart the door unlock , ad Rhea walked in , Damian trailing behind her , the pairs lugage in hand. You felt a smile form on your face as you heard them run up the stairs , toward the bedroom. 

You heard the door creak open as the two faces of your lovers came into your view. “Hey mariposa , how you feeling?” Damian asked the concern clear in his voice. “not that well , but im glad you two are back though I miss you guys ,” you replied. Rhea came from the other side of the bed, holding your hand as she started speaking. “we missed you more my love, and hopefully this sickness passes, I know how much you want to get back into the ring,” rhea spoke as she started rubbing your arm. 

Just then , you felt dizzier than before. And soon enough , you were running over towards the toilet. You felt a  thick liquid pour out of your moth as Damian held your hair , concern creeping on both His and Rhea’s faces. When you finally stopped , you saw that rhea had wet a warm rag , wiping your lips. 

“My love,” she paused, putting the rag down on the counter , grabbing your face into her hands. “How long has this been going on for?,” she spoke with half concern and half worry. “About a week or so,” you spoke in a low and unsure tone. But nothing the less , they still heard you. Now that the secret was out , you knew you and to tell them about the pregnancy before they found out themselves.

You suddenly stood up. “ Woah woah , take it easy mariposa , you were just throwing up a second ago we cant have you passing out now,” Damian spoke. 

“I..um,” you were hesitant at first “I actually have something to tell you both,” you said feeling your palms go sweatier. Damian and Rhea nodded waiting for you to continue.

“I-im pregnant ,”you spoke in a low tone at first. “what was that?” Now both Rhea and Damian were even more confused than before. 

“Im pregnant,” you blurted out louder than before. You looked down. You couldn’t bear to see their faces. The embarrassment felt like it was piling on top of you. You felt the tears fall onto your cheeks as your breath quickened.

“ your pregnant,” You heart the Aussie say. You slowly nodded your head. “You’re pregnant!” she repeated in a happier tone. You heard Damian laugh before entangling you in a hug. “ so you guys aren’t mad?” You asked feeling Rheas arm sooth your face. “Of course we aren’t my love , if anything we’ve been thinking about his for some time, we just never had the time to talk about it with you,” You felt Rhea hold your hand as she gave you a peck on your cheek. You felt your anxiety wash away as you felt the love and warmth of your partners. Although you felt scared , you knew the journey would be better with them by your side.