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austinbutlerslovers · 5 months ago

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Benny Cross the Bikeriders Fantasy Part 6 Finale

Label Mature 18+

Chapter 6 For Keeps 🔗Chapter 1 🔗Chapter 2 🔗Chapter 3 🔗Chapter 4 🔗Chapter 5

🔗 Master List

Summary With every thing stripped from Benny he begins to understand what he really wants out of life and after a fateful turn of events putting your safety at risk finalizes his decision changing both of your lives forever.

♠️ Passionate Smut ♠️ Edging • claiming •oral on female• sexual teasing •mutual mastrubation • pinning •mating press •breeding kink• clit stimulation•nipple play •breast play • rough sex • multiple orgasms •multiple cream pies

📖 Proof Reader @purejasmine 🫦 Smut Consultant @burnthheparaphilia

Heavily Inspired by the Bikeriders Movie Mentions of death ☠️ attempted violation of female💥

🏍️ Inspo: anonymous requests combined •The ‘red dress’ scene (but Bennys there) •Benny desperately wants to get you pregnant •Benny protective over you •The ‘fight scene’ with angry sex •Happy ending for Benny

For Keeps

The day of the Vandals picnic arrives and when you and Benny ride in the scene is a far cry from the gatherings you remember.

The atmosphere is pure chaos, loud music pulses through the air with everyone heavily intoxicated, the usual beers replaced by hard liquor and hooch. Scantily clad women mingle through the crowd, their presence heightening the already rowdy energy. The heavy scent of marijuana blends with the roar of motorcycles, amplifying the wild unruly ambiance.

As you and Benny pull up, the bikers erupt into cheers and chants, their voices ringing with excitement. “Benny’s back!” some shout, their enthusiasm undeniable “The legend lives on!” Cal yells enthusiastically, his voice cutting through the cheers of the group.

As Benny dismounts the motorcycle, he can’t help but smile, his face lighting up with a mixture of relief and exhilaration. The warm reception from the Vandals fills him with a sense of belonging and joy.

After you dismount, Benny carefully retrieves his crutch from where he’s welded a custom piece to fit his bike. With you by his side, he steadies himself on the crutch and makes his way toward the group of Vandals gathered at a table, with Johnny and Brusy seated front and center.

Johnny’s eyes fall to Benny’s cast and crutch as he approaches. “You rode all the way in on that?” Johnny asks, a note of surprise and teasing in his voice.

“Yeah, I just strapped it to the bike,” Benny replies with a weary sigh, the strain of riding with a broken ankle evident in his expression.

You interject with a hint of frustration in your voice. “He needs all of this because his ankle is still healing, Johnny,” you say, your words edged with anger from your unresolved argument about Benny.

You side eye Johnny before spotting Betty, Donna, and Gail waving you down in the distance. Turning to Benny with a loving smile, you cup his jaw and press a big, lingering kiss to his cheek. “You need anything, you let me know,” you say sweetly and as you step back, you see the glimmer of appreciation in Benny’s eyes as he watches you depart, a dreamy smile on his lips.

You know how much Benny cherishes his time with the Vandals, and despite your unease of him remaining in the club, you leave him to reconnect with his friends.

As you sit with the old ladies, you watch in disbelief as the new chapters of Vandals revel in the chaos of drinking, fighting, and wild behavior.

The club scene has transformed into a display of menacing bikers. There are more fights, louder arguments, and public displays of fornication than you’ve ever witnessed in your life. The atmosphere is filled with the raw energy of unbridled menace, making the whole scene feel oppressive.

Benny finds you a short time later and sits down at the picnic table, resting his crutch beside him. He listens to you recount the tales of how he’s recovering and how much better he’s doing to the group of gathered ladies. He looks over at you fondly, enjoying your company and wanting to be by your side more than he does with the members of the club that he can no longer keep up with as they dance and drink and shout and run wild.

As nightfall descends, the groups spread out around various campfires, a long standing Vandal tradition. The main Vandals gather closely, with Zipco regaling the members with wild stories, his voice rising above the crackling flames.

The men settle into a variety of spots, some perched on weathered logs, others lounging in mismatched chairs, and a few simply sitting cross-legged on the ground.

The fire casts a warm, flickering glow over the scene, illuminating their faces as they listen and laugh, wrapped in the camaraderie of the night.

You and Benny sit on chairs leaning against each other as he absently runs his fingers over your hand and the tender gesture makes you smile. When he steals the occasional glances at you with his eyes filled with love, it deepens your smile even more.

Across the fire, Johnny watches the two of you from his seat. Betty perched comfortably on his lap. His gaze is on Benny, distracted from Zipco's animated storytelling, his mind drifting to a decision he made long ago that needs to be addressed tonight.

Johnny nudges Betty gently before rising abruptly, drawing everyone’s attention away from Zipco’s tale. He looks over the group, before nodding to Benny and gesturing for him to follow.

Benny rises slowly, gently squeezing your hand for reassurance as he balances on one foot. You hand him his crutch ensuring he’s steady with a tender touch before he heads off.

Johnny leads Benny a short distance away from the group, guiding him towards their bikes. Benny rests his crutch on a piece of fence, using it for support as he steadies himself. The night is dark with only a park lamp casting a soft, yellow glow over them.

“Means a lot you coming out here all banged up like that,” Johnny says pointing at his cast while Benny lights up his cigarette.

“I’ve been thinking,” Johnny continues, “I can’t run this club forever. I’m gonna have to find somebody to…” He pauses, his eyes meeting Benny’s, “to take it over.”

Benny exhales a cloud of smoke. “What about Brusy?” he asks.

Johnny shakes his head, placing a hand on his bike. “I love Brusy like a brother,” he says, his voice firm, “but it ain’t Brusy.”

Benny exhales his smoke again as Johnny adds, “Brusy will get eaten alive by these guys.”

Johnny trails his hand along his bike and looks Benny in the eyes. “It’s gotta be somebody that…” He searches Bennys eyes, “they respect. It’s gotta be somebody that ain’t gonna take no shit from ‘em.”

A silence falls as Johnny and Benny look toward the campfire where the bikers are gathered.

“It’s you,” Johnny finally says.

Benny looks at Johnny, chuckling softly as he takes a drag from his cigarette.

“C’mon,” Benny says cracking a smile, thinking Johnny isn’t serious.

Johnny’s gaze is unwavering as he stands up from his bike, walking over so close to Benny that it’s intimidating. Johnny’s eyes bore into Benny with an intensity that is unsettling.

“Look, I built this club out of nothing,” Johnny says, stepping even closer gesturing with his hand. “I put more into this fucking club than my own family. This is my family,” he insists.

Benny looks at Johnny with newfound understanding, seeing the concern in Johnny’s eyes.

“Y’know, I don’t know how many fucking chapters we got now. We’ve got old guys, new guys, young guys—most of the new ones I don’t know. But the guys I do know, they ain’t gonna follow anybody except somebody who can hold their own.”

Johnny’s eyes are almost desperate as they lock onto Benny.

Benny quickly looks down, avoiding Johnny’s intense gaze.

“Look at me,” Johnny demands. Benny hesitates before finally meeting his eyes, a flicker of resignation showing.

After a tense moment Benny breaks the silence.

“I’m all fucked up,” Benny answers, gesturing to his cast. “And my girl is the one paying my fucking dues,” he confesses with vulnerability.

Johnny’s scoffs as Benny takes a long drag from his cigarette.

Benny exhales a cloud of smoke with a sigh, turning his head away as he speaks. “You’re a grown man,” he says, before meeting Johnny’s intense gaze.“You’ve got a house, you’ve got a job. I don’t want that. I never cared about any of that.”

Johnny’s face turns serious as he taps Benny’s vest, right on his Vandals biker patch.

“That’s why it’s you,” Johnny says. “All these guys in here, they’re all trying to be you. You see?” he asks, looking Benny deeply in the eyes.

Benny looks off into the distance, seeing you quietly by the campfire, the soft glow of the flames illuminating your beautiful face. His heart aches with the weight of the decision before him. “Johnny…” he begins with hesitation.

But Johnny gets in so close he’s inches from Benny’s face, and Benny can feel his breath as Johnny says, “It’s yours,” his voice low but firm, each word carrying a heavy significance. Benny meets Johnny’s intense gaze, the silence between them tense with unspoken words.

Seeing the extreme conflict in Benny’s eyes, Johnny softens his resolve slightly and finally turns away.

“Hey, you know, just think it over,” Johnny says in a lighter tone, trying to mask his desperation.

Benny can feel Johnny’s urgency as he takes a final drag from his cigarette and gathers his crutch, using it to return to the campfire. He takes one last look back at Johnny who remains rested against his bike, lost in thought.

When Benny returns to sit beside you, there’s a profound change in him. His eyes carry the weight of deep thought as he sinks into his seat next to you.

The ride home reflects his mood, cold and windy, with a chill that mirrors the silence between you. Benny is clearly lost in thought. By the time you both arrive home, it’s late. He’s sore, aching, and exhausted.

You head straight to warm up in a hot shower. As you stand behind him, washing his back with a washcloth, you gently ease his sore muscles as he stands under the warm water, letting the stress of the day slowly wash away.

After drying off, you settle into the fresh sheets of your soft bed, and turn off the light. Benny curls up against you, his breath warm and soft against your neck. As you begin to drift off in the comfort of his arms, he quietly reveals what’s been on his mind, “Johnny offered me the club.” Benny says his voice heavy with the gravity of his thoughts.

You turn slightly to look at him, feeling a twinge of anxiety.

“He said it’s mine if I want it,” Benny continues, looking into your eyes feeling undecided.

“Well, what did you say?” you ask gently.

“I didn’t say anything,” Benny replies, pulling you closer.

You rest your head on the pillow, thinking about the weight of the decision Benny will have to make. “Just rest now,” you say softly, your voice soothing as you gently stroke his hand, offering him comfort while he processes his thoughts.

Restored

The next week Benny finally gets his cast removed at the hospital. It’s a moment of triumph and relief. The doctor carefully uses a small, vibrating saw to cut through the hardened plaster, making quick, precise movements to ensure Benny’s skin remains untouched. As the cast comes off, he stretches his leg, testing its flexibility for the first time. The feeling of freedom is evident in his smile.

When Benny stands for the first time without the cast, he takes a tentative step, then another, gaining confidence with each movement. He turns to you, his eyes shining with gratitude, and wraps you in a warm hug. “Thank you, baby. I couldn’t have done it without you,” he says, his voice filled with deep appreciation. He pulls you in for a heartfelt kiss, a gesture that speaks volumes about how much your support has meant to him.

Once home, Benny eagerly dives into his chores. He starts by de-weeding the garden, pulling out stubborn weeds with a determined look of satisfaction. Next, he tackles his list of tasks around the house: cleaning the drains in the sink, and repairing the sticking window in the living room. His enthusiasm is undeniable as he works, each completed task a testament to his regained strength and stamina.

After he finishes his work, Benny heads to the shower, stripping naked as he turns the water on, letting it warm up. The steam begins to fill the bathroom, softening the edges of the mirror.

He steps under the stream, letting the hot water cascade over his tired muscles, washing away the dirt and grime from his skin. As he lathers up, his eyes drift down to his foot, where the red, jagged scar stretches across his ankle, a constant reminder of what he’s been through.

By nightfall, Benny surprises you by preparing a home cooked meal. He playfully pushes you out of the kitchen when you enter , his hands firm yet gentle on your waist.

“Go on, get off your feet,” he insists with a smile. As you turn back to protest, he leans in and kisses you, long and lingering, his gratitude evident in the way his lips meet yours.

His smile widens as you part, and he can’t help but watch the way your hips sway as you head to the living room, a warmth spreading through him at the sight.

He serves up spaghetti with tomato sauce and a crisp salad with Italian dressing. It’s a humble, straightforward meal, but the care and effort he put in to prepare it make it extraordinary. You both enjoy dinner with satisfied grins, savoring the flavors and the comfort of the familiar routine.

After dinner, Benny leads you into the living room, where he selects a record from your collection, holding it gently as he slides it from its sleeve and placing the vinyl onto the turntable.

He lowers the needle, and the room fills with the warm, crackling sound of the song as the music starts to play, filling the space with a melodic tune.

Benny turns to you, his eyes lit with anticipation, and gently pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he brushes his lips against yours in a soft, tender kiss.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to do this with you?” he asks, his hand resting around your waist as you move to the music.

“Forever, Benny,” you reply, your smile mirroring his. You both bask in the joy of the moment, swaying together and savoring the simple pleasure of being in each other’s arms.

He kisses you again, this time with greater need, his hands cupping your face.

“I love you,” he whispers. You look into his eyes, a playful glint in yours.

“Show me,” you say, pulling him by both hands toward the stairs.

Benny’s face lights up with a grin as he follows you up, step by step remembering when he was stuck on the ground floor with a cast.

“I missed this too,” he says in a playful tone his voice full of anticipation, making both of you laugh as you ascend the stairs together.

Once you reach the bedroom, Benny lifts you effortlessly into his strong arms. He holds you close, his eyes dark with desire and affection as your legs wrap around his waist.

“I’ve been wanting to hold you like this again for so long,” he says, his grin is infectious his eyes lock on to yours .

“Me too, Benny,” you reply, smiling as a thrill runs through you being carried in his strong arms. You look into his eyes, your heart pounding, and gently cup his face, lowering your lips to his in a soft, appreciative kiss.

Benny gently lays you on the bed, his touch tender as he settles you into the familiar comfort of the master bedroom.

His fingers caress your face with affectionate care, his eyes reflecting deep gratitude and longing. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed this….how much I missed you… “ he says as his thumb gently brushes over your lips, “I thought about being healed and back in your arms everyday.” He smiles fondly.

His eyes soften giving way to something deeper. “You cared for me at my worst and …I just want to show you how much I appreciate you,” he says, his voice laced with emotion as he leans in and kisses you tenderly, full of his unspoken desire.

With a soft touch, he begins unbuttoning your top, his fingers lingering on your skin as he slowly removes it. His hands then trail to your jeans, sliding them down your legs with deliberate care. He stands to take off his own shirt, revealing his chiseled, muscular torso without a bruise in sight. His smooth skin showing all the contours of his muscles in the light.

You grin at him, taking in how handsome he looks, noticing the flex in his muscles seem even stronger than before. Your eyes drop to his hands as he begins unbuttoning his jeans, and your heart rate spikes with anticipation.

Benny lowers his jeans, standing before you, completely naked. His cock is long and hard, substantial in length, a clear sign of how much he desires you.

He gives you a commanding look as he grins his voice low and full of authority, “Show me how much you missed me baby” he says lowering his hand and running it along his cock. “Play with yourself until you begging for me” he orders.

Your breath quickens, a thrill coursing through you at his words. You seductively smile at him unhooking your bra and letting it slide down your arms, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. Next, you slip your fingers into the waistband of your panties, peeling them off until you are completely bare before him.

You settle back against the bed, spreading your legs just enough to give him a tantalizing view.

Your fingers start to explore yourself with soft a deliberate touch, teasing your entrance gently at first, before pushing your fingers inside, causing a soft moan to escape your lips making Benny’s eyes darken with desire.

He climbs on top of you, his weight pressing down at your sides just enough to remind you of his presence, his breath warm and tantalizing against your skin.

He hovers above you, his body close but not quite touching, teasing you with the promise of what’s to come.

“Keep going for me,” he commands wrapping his hand around his cock, slowly stroking himself, the need between you building with each passing second.

You continue moving your fingers within yourself, your breathing becoming ragged as you surrender to the sensation. “Benny,” you whisper, your voice trembling with raw need as he pants above you. His eyes locked on yours as he strokes his cock harder in a quick deliberate rhythm.

As your moans grow desperate for him he lowers his mouth to your neck, trailing kisses that send shivers down your spine, his lips warm and soft, lingering just long enough to make you crave more.

His hand slides to your breast, his touch teasing as he firmly pinches your nipple, eliciting a gasp that makes you arch into him, the pleasure sharp and exquisite.

Benny’s breath quickens as he watches you beneath him, your face a picture of pure bliss, your body responding eagerly to the dual sensations of your own touch and his. His breaths become more ragged, his hand moving faster, stroking his cock harder

“Tell me you want me,” he whispers his voice thick with desire, his words sending a thrill through you.

“Please,” you beg, your voice laced with need. “I want you Benny.” The intensity of your plea drives him wild.

Without a word, Benny takes your wrist, pulling your fingers from you and guiding them directly into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around them, tasting you with a groan of satisfaction.

Then he places your hand back on your clit. “Tease it while I taste you,” he says as he lowers himself between your legs.

You do as he says, rubbing your clit with increasing pressure as his lips press against your soft folds, his tongue flicking and teasing, his warm breath fanning over your skin.

His mouth works expertly, licking and sucking with just the right amount of pressure, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

He places his fingers over yours, making you press harder on your clit as he guides your hand in slow, deliberate circles. “Benny,” you moan, your voice trembling with need.

He grips your hips, pulling you closer to his face, his breath hot against your skin as he laps at you, each stroke of his tongue teasing and deliberate. His movements are unrelenting drawing out every sensation until your eyes flutter closed and a loud moan escapes your lips, the pleasure too much to bear.

Your fingers circle your clit faster and faster, the sharp jolts of pleasure amplifying every sensation as Benny’s eager lips and tongue work at a relentless pace. Your hips begin to buck against his mouth, and he holds you firmly in place, your thighs tightening around his head, trapping him. He buries his face between your legs, thrusting his tongue deep inside you, coaxing your orgasm with deliberate strokes.

Loud moans escape your lips, the sound a mix of desperation and pleasure as your release comes, your body trembling as you squirt directly into his mouth. Benny groans against you, the vibrations of his voice making you moan in pleasure with him.l

As you come down from your high, breathless and spent, Benny takes his hands to your thighs, gently pushing them up and wide, your legs bending easily under his touch.

“I’m not even close to being done with you yet,” he breathes, his voice heavy with passion as he gazes down at you.

His hands grasp beneath your knees, his grip firm holding you in a way that leaves you completely vulnerable to him.

“You’ve given me everything, and I’m going to make sure you feel every inch of how much appreciate you.” He says using one hand to guide his tip to your entrance as his other hand keeps your leg firmly in place.

He pushes his cock deep into to your soaked walls. The sensation of him stretching you wider as he pushes in makes your breath catch, the tight pressure building with each inch he claims.

He settles within you, his large cock filling you completely, pressing against you at an angle that has you moaning his name.

He shudders replacing his hand to hold your other leg, spreading you wide apart the position leaving you completely at his mercy. With a deep, groan, he presses hips against you, pushing his cock all the way inside you as he begins to thrust.

His eyes flicker between your face and body as he watches the way you take him in. Every moan every gasp, the way your breasts bounce with every thrust, your nipples hardening with every jolt of pleasure.

He shifts his angle slightly, hitting just the right spot to make you moan louder.

“You feel …so good,” he praises, his voice raw and full of desire. His large hand slides up your side, until it reaches your breast, he

squeezes firmly, brushing his thumbs over your nipple before pinching it firmly between his fingers.

The sensation sends a sharp wave of pleasure through you, making you gasp. Benny’s eyes darken as he watches your reaction, the way your body arches into his touch, craving more.

He lowers himself onto you, his chest pressing firmly against yours. The weight of him feels grounding, the heat of his body searing against your skin.

His breath comes in warm, ragged pants against your neck as he leans in, capturing your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. His hands cup your breasts squeezing and teasing your nipples as his hips thrust in a relentless rhythm, driving his cock deeper into you making you moan in pleasure.

His hands slide to the backs of your thighs, gripping them again as he picks up the pace, his thrusts become deeper, more intense, his cock pushing against a place that has you moaning into his mouth with every firm stroke.

The pressure is euphoric his cock filling you completely, leaving no room for anything else. You can feel every inch of him, every pulse and throb, as he claims you over and over again.

His grip on your thighs tightens, holding you in place as he increases his pace, his hips slamming against you with a force that leaves you breathless.

The controlling position has your body arching and writhing beneath him as he drives you closer and closer to the point of no return.

“Benny,” you cry out your voice trembling with desperation as he watches you fall apart beneath him. Your abs tensing as your walls clenching tightly around his cock.

You can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but feel Benny as he takes you higher and higher, his pace relentless, his desire for you all consuming.

Your moans are unending as your body trembles, your heart racing as you teeter on the edge of oblivion,

“You’re gonna come“ he says breathlessly and reaches his hands between your bodies finding your clit. His fingers press firmly against it as he thrusts. Your body responds immediately, your hips bucking up to meet his touch as you moan desperately into the air.

He pulls you into a searing kiss his lips moving against yours with a fierce intensity, as if he’s pouring every ounce of emotion into the connection. His lips never leave yours, staying softly pressed together in a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses.

The pleasure becomes so intense that you moan into each others mouths feeling the tension building into an unbearable peak.

You cling to him, your nails digging into his back as you surrender to the sensation.

“Come with me,” he urges , his voice rough with desire as he gently guides your legs back until you’re perfectly positioned beneath him in a mating press. His biceps flexing as he holds your legs in place.

“This one’s for keeps,” he says, his voice strained with effort, each word a promise as his hips thrust driving himself deeper. He pushes harder, his back arching with each powerful stroke that fills your completely.

“I’m gonna come!” He yells and you both cry out in unison as the intensity overtakes you, his body claiming you with an overwhelming force.

Your orgasm crashes through you your walls pulsing and clenching around his cock as he continues thrusting into you. Your muscles tensing and quivering uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure surges through you.

Benny lets out a deep, guttural groan, his body shuddering as he reaches his own climax. You can feel the rush of his release hot and thick, filling you completely as he comes deep inside you. His cock pulses with each throb of your core, the warmth of his cum spreading through you, mingling with the slickness of your own arousal.

Your breath comes in shallow, ragged gasps, as you cling to him, the sensation filling you with a sense of completion, of being claimed by him in a way that words could never convey.

Benny’s chest is heaving with exertion as he rests his face in the crook of your neck. You can feel the sweat on his skin, the way his body trembles with the effort.

Benny groans as the intensity of his movements begins to subside. His cock softly pulses making him feel euphoric as a satisfied sigh escapes his lips. His hands, once so firm, now gently caress your skin, his touch tender, almost reverent, savoring every second of being connected to you in this moment.

He remains close, his body still pressed tightly against yours, his cock nestled deep within you, as the final waves of pleasure slowly fade away.

You’re left in the quiet silence of the night, your bodies still entangled, your breaths slowly synchronizing, as you both bask in the lingering warmth and connection that only the depth of your love can bring.

Devoted

Benny repeatedly misses meeting after meeting with the Vandals. Every time the phone rings with Johnny Brusy or Cal on the other end, he comes up with an excuse not to attend, choosing instead to stay with you.

He hugs you, kisses you, and showers you with affection at every opportunity. He can’t seem to keep his hands off you especially your stomach, where he’s convinced his baby is growing.

One afternoon, his curiosity finally gets the better of him. You’re both doing simple tasks around the living room, you’re dusting the shelves, humming softly to yourself, while he’s putting records back into their sleeves, the warm notes of a vinyl playing in the air.

You move with a lightness on your tiptoes as you dust the higher shelves, a bright smile never leaving your face. There’s something different about you today, more radiant.

As you reach for the next spot, you accidentally knock a book from the shelf and you smile as you bend down to pick it up. You kneel carefully, one hand resting on your waist as you stand back up, the movement gentle and deliberate.

Benny pauses, watching you for a moment, mesmerized by how you seem to be glowing. It’s not just your mood or the way you move with a gentle grace it’s something deeper, something in the way you carry yourself.

“You’re like sunshine today baby,” Benny says, his voice soft with admiration.

You look back at him, your eyes sparkling. “Am I?” you ask with a grin, stretching up on your tip toes again, playfully dusting his shoulder.

He chuckles watching you, feeling a sense of wonder. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “You’re different. Something’s changed.”

As you walk around him, a soft giggle escaping your lips, he senses it. There’s a new softness to your movements, something gentle but undeniable, and he’s drawn to it.

He can’t help but be curious. “Let me get a look at you,” he says, stepping closer, gently resting his hands on your waist.

He kneels in front of you, bathed in the soft afternoon light of the living room and lifts the hem of your dress.

His fingers trace the skin of your stomach, his touch gentle but searching, trying to understand the change he’s sensing.

His eyes fixate on you navel with a burning curiosity. “How soon until we can tell?” he asks in a serious tone,

You smile at his earnestness. “It’ll be a few months until the doctors can tell, Benny,” you reveal, fully aware he won’t be too pleased with the wait.

He frowns slightly, his thumb lightly brushing across your belly button.

“I’ve been giving it my all, you know,” he says, his voice playful as he leans closer speaking softly to your belly. “Been working hard in there every day,” he adds with a teasing grin, making you giggle.

He then cautiously presses his finger into your swollen ovary. “Ow Benny!” You exclaim and he looks up at you his eyes worried “I’m sorry baby” he says quickly his eyes full of repentance.

“it’s alright Benny.” you say smiling at him warmly seeing how fascinated he is.

“I have to know.” He says having you hold your dress back.

He presses both of your ovaries with his thumbs at the same time making an odd sensation course through you as your face winces in pain.

“Hurts?” He asks glancing up at you before focusing back on your abdomen.

“Yea Benny it feels really sore“ you confirm your voice strained. He has a look of sudden realization as he immediately releases his hands standing taller than you.

He glances down at your abdomen then back into your eyes

“I’m a hundred percent sure my baby is growing in you right now.” He admits

“Benny what!” Your say smiling at his enthusiasm

“You’re having my baby.” he confirms and you gently laugh seeing the conviction in his eyes.

“Benny” you say sweetly wrapping your arms around his neck gazing into his blue eyes lovingly. “There’s no way you can tell this soon.”

Benny glances down between your bodies before looking back into your eyes his hands firmly on your waist. “I’m one hundred percent sure.” He says with unwavering certainty.

Better Off

With Benny avoiding time with the Vandals, it comes as a shock when you receive a call one afternoon, and it’s Betty on the line.

Her voice is trembling as she relays “I have some devastating news… Brusy… he died in a motorcycle accident.”

Your breath catches, and you grip the phone tightly as Betty explains. It was an early morning ride when someone backed out of their driveway without seeing him. His death was instant. You cover your mouth in shock, trying to process what she’s saying. “What about Gail?” you manage to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“She’s inconsolable,” Betty replies, her voice breaking with emotion.

In a daze, you bid her farewell and hang up the phone heading straight to the garage, where you find Benny working on a bike. You stand in the doorway, hesitating, unsure how to break the news. Benny finally looks up at you, his hands covered in oil, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“What is it?” he asks, noticing your distress.

You take a deep breath, deciding to just tell him plainly. “Benny… Brusy died in a motorcycle accident.”

His reaction is not what you expect. Without even looking up, he mutters, “He’s better off.”

You’re stunned. “What?” you ask, thinking you misheard him.

“I said, he’s better off,” Benny repeats, this time taking the cigarette out of his mouth to look at you, his tone detached.

“Benny, you can’t say that,” you try to reason with him, still in disbelief.

Benny shrugs, going back to work on his bike, his indifference unsettling you. “How can you not have feelings, Benny?” you ask becoming frustrated with his lack if concern.

“My dad made sure of that,” he says, not bothering to look up as he tightens a bolt on the bike’s engine

“What did you say?” you ask, stepping further into the garage, drawn in by the rare mention of his past.

“He’s better off too,” Benny adds, still unbothered, as if he were discussing something trivial

“Benny!” you exclaim, shocked. “Your father… passed away?” you ask, your concern rising.

“Yeah,” he replies nonchalantly, wiping his hands clean of oil and tossing the rag over his shoulder. “It’s just as well.

The news hits you hard, but Benny’s stoic demeanor leaves you feeling helpless.

The next week you attend Brusy funeral with all of the Vandals to pay your respects. The family refused the floral arrangements from the club, so Johnny has the Vandals form a line at the entrance, a silent show of solidarity.

As Brusy’s family arrives, his mother and father are the only ones who attend. His father clutches his mother as they walk through the line of Vandals to the ceremony. Brusys mother recognizes Johnny, and her grief turns to anger. She looks him in the eyes with disgust and spits directly in his face.

“Get out of here, would ya?” Brusys father adds, leaning in after her with a serious tone. But Johnny and the Vandals remain, unmoved.

After Brusys death, the guilt weigha heavily on Benny. Seeing his brotherhood again in such sad times shifted something inside him

To your dismay, Benny throws himself wholeheartedly back into the Vandals. He’s running missions, going on weekly rides, and always at Johnny’s beck and call, eager to help at a moment’s notice.

He gets into more fights, racks up more speeding tickets, and makes more court appearances, as if he’d been desperate to make up for lost time.

Even though part of him wants to pull away, he cant seem to let go. The thrill, the loyalty to his brothers—he couldn’t resist, no matter how much he might have wanted to break free

Every time he comes home and sees you, there’s flicker of guilt in his eyes. He knows he should leave the club—he told you several times that he planned to walk away from the Vandals. “I’m just gonna leave,” he’d say, but you could always see the doubt behind his words deep down you knew he didnt meant it.

Every time Johnny called, Benny was right back by his side. Even though Benny didn’t want to take over the club, he could see the emptiness Johnny felt after losing Brusy, and that’s what kept him tethered-what kept him coming back.

After Brusy died, things began to change in the club. More people from tougher walks of life wanted to join, seeking the comfort and strength in numbers that the brotherhood provided.

Johnny had to turn away dozens of them, questioning their loyalty or finding it lacking altogether. But as new sects sprang up with different styles of leadership he began to lose his control.

The parties and picnics grew wilder and more chaotic until Benny stopped inviting you altogether. He preferred you stay home, safe and comfortable, while he helped Johnny sort through the increasingly violent and unpredictable issues that came with managing so many new, unruly chapters.

She’s Fine

When, Benny does finally invite you it’s to one of the largest parties the Vandals have ever thrown, held in an old, abandoned manor in the middle of a field in Chicago. As you arrive, a sense of unease settles in your stomach. You only know Johnny, Cal, and Cockroach; none of the old ladies from the club are there. In fact, there are only the new, provocative and wild girls, which immediately puts you on edge.

You sit with Benny as he drinks his beer, listening to Sunny, a new recruit, recount his tales of being a ‘Dead Devil’ member in California. As Sunny proudly describes his thrill of being in a club of “proper fuck-ups” like himself, you notice that the new bikers have a common uniting theme from all corners of the country.

They seem like renegades, exuding the mentality of dangerous, cutthroat survivors who are banding together to carry out their dirty work, empowered by their strength in numbers.

You try to relax, seeing the edgier side of biker life with Benny, but there’s a rougher, more aggressive undercurrent tonight. The feeling is unsettling and hard to ignore.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of a biker grabbing a girl with a roughness that’s meant to be playful, but the way he handles her is terrifying. The girl laughs it off, but the danger lurking beneath the surface is unmistakable.

When Benny drinks the last of his beer you get up to fetch him another. As you pull a cold one from the cooler in the kitchen, you encounter a skinny young woman smoking a cigarette.

“Are you new?” she asks, her eyes scanning you up and down.

“No, well, I mean, I’m with a Vandal,” you reply, gesturing towards Benny.

She takes a drag of her cigarette and offers a weak smile. “He’s handsome,” she says, her gaze lingering on Benny before she turns back to the conversation.

“I don’t blame you for being claimed by one,” she says, eyeing a biker from across the room. “I’ve had my fair share of men, but bikers… there’s something about em…the roughness, the edge, the way they push you beyond your limits,” she adds, giving you a knowing look as she takes another drag from her cigarette. “I can’t get enough of ’em,” she mutters, slowly exhaling a cloud of smoke that lingers in the air.

The biker she’s been eyeing gestures for her to come over, and without another word, she struts away, leaving you standing alone, her words hanging in the air.

Feeling a bit uneasy, you make your way back to Benny, unable to shake the conversation. As you approach with the beer, you notice all the men are looking in the direction you just came from.

You glance back and see the girl you just spoke to is now seductively dancing for the biker in the other room, a crowd of men gathering around to watch.

It dawns on you that the new girls around the club seem different—more open, more seductive, almost like… but you shake the thought from your mind. As you sit back down next to Benny, he places his arm around you, rubbing his thumb along your shoulder, trying to comfort you.

Suddenly, Johnny bursts into the room, snapping his fingers, his eyes deadly serious.

“Hey, guys, I need you,” he says, and Benny, Cal, and two of the new recruits quickly jump up and rush outside.

“I’ll be right back,” Benny tells you, concern etched on his face as he follows Johnny out, leaving you alone on the couch.

As you sit there waiting, a creeping unease begins to settle in. You notice several bikers standing around, their eyes flicking toward you more often than you’d like. The longer you sit, the more uncomfortable you feel. The room feels heavy, the atmosphere shifting as the men’s gazes linger on you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl.

Deciding it’s safer outside, you get up, intending to wait for Benny on the porch. But as you head toward the front door, you notice several bikers watching your every move, their eyes following you like a pack of wolves eyeing prey.

A cold chill runs down your spine, and with a sinking feeling, you realize the girl who was dancing seductively in the next room is gone, along with several of the other girls leaving you in a room of men riled up without a distraction.

You clutch your body instinctively, feeling the weight of their stares, every instinct screaming that something’s not right.

Just as you reach for the front door, a large, menacing biker steps in front of you, blocking your way. “Where you going?” he demands, his voice filled with malice as he grabs your arm with a vice-like grip.

“Let me go!” you scream in shock, shoving him as hard as you can, but his grip only tightens. Panic floods your veins as another biker grabs your other arm, and a third seizes your leg. They lift you off the ground, your body fighting with everything you have, but their hold is relentless, overpowering your desperate struggle.

“We’ll take good care of you, pretty thing,” one of them laughs, his grip like iron as he holds you.

“Let’s take her upstairs,” another one suggests, the words passing between them with a dark, unspoken understanding, as if they’ve done this a hundred times before, a silent agreement among predators who have found their prey.

Their faces are lit with excitement and thrill as they carry you to the stairwell, their eyes gleaming with twisted pleasure as their hands greedily roam over your body. “Stop it! stop it! let me go!” you panic, your voice trembling as their rough hands slide beneath your clothing, fingers brushing against your skin. “No, no!” you cry out, your voice rising in desperation.

They work together, ignoring your pleas, their grins widening as they tug at your clothing, reveling in the power they have over you. The more you resist, the more it fuels their twisted desires.

“Let’s see what else she’s hiding,” a third one grins, his fingers pushing into your waistband.

You begin to kick, punch, thrash with all your might, managing to break free of one’s grip just long enough to claw another biker across the face, leaving deep, angry red marks.

“Damn, girl you got some fight in you !” the biker yells, grabbing your wrist with force. Your screams begin to pierce the night air, each one more desperate than the last, filled with raw, frantic energy as they continue to carry you up the stairs.

“She’s never been broken in,” one of them says, a dark grin spreading across his face as he covers your mouth with his hand, muffling your screams as they drag you up toward the landing.

You begin to cry as the terrifying reality sets in, and a fist comes out of nowhere, smashing into the face of the biker covering your mouth. He stumbles back, releasing you in shock.

You see Johnny clawing his way through the men to get to you. He grabs you, pulling you out of their grasp with a fierceness that leaves no room for argument. “This is Benny’s girl!” Johnny shouts, his voice ringing with authority.

The bikers quickly realize their mistake, fear and regret flashing across their faces. “We thought she was working,” one of them stammers, panic rising in his voice as he tries to justify their actions. “We were just trying to get ours,” another says, but the words falter as he sees Johnny’s eyes burning with a need for retribution.

They begin to disperse, leaving you crumpled on the stairs, your head resting against the wall as you breathe heavily, trying to process the horror of what just happened.

Your clothes are in disarray, and you shiver uncontrollably, still feeling their hands on you, your skin crawling with fear and disgust. You try to cover yourself, but your hands are shaking too violently to close the remaining buttons. The sensation of their rough, unwanted touches lingers, burning into your mind, a memory you can’t shake.

Johnny crouches down beside you, his face serious, his attempt at reassurance doing little to comfort you. “You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice gentle, but the look you give him is one of pure, absolute hatred.

Hatred for Benny still being entangled in this life, and hatred for the negligence and wildness of these new members that nearly cost you everything.

Johnny meets your gaze, his eyes pleading, trying to convince you, and maybe even himself, that everything is under control. “Nothing happened, alright?” he says, nodding as if the repetition will somehow make it true, will somehow erase the trauma that’s etched into your soul.

You stare at him blankly, your mind slipping into a numb, distant place. “Where’s Benny?” you ask weakly, your voice cracking as you teeter on the edge of shock.

The thought of how close you came to being violated by several men at once crashes over you, leaving you drowning in despair as you retreat into your mind staring blankly ahead.

“Nothing happened. You’re fine,” Johnny repeats, but the words sound distorted, as if they’re coming from far away. His is voice hollow and meaningless, as if me keeps saying the words enough times it will somehow make them true.

Just then, Benny rushes into the door way of the stairwell, his eyes wild with concern, panic evident in every line of his face. “What the fuck happened? I was gone for a minute!” he exclaims, his gaze locking onto you, taking in your disheveled appearance, your vacant stare.

“Baby, are you alright?” he asks, dropping to his knees beside you, his voice trembling with fear.

Your eyes drop to meet his, but everything feels distant, like you’re disconnected. The world around you blurs, sounds muffled and distorted. You try to speak, but no words come out, your throat tightens, and your mind is blank, unable to process what just happened.

“Benny, she’s fine, some of the guys got the wrong idea,” Johnny says, trying to downplay the situation, but there’s a tension in his voice, a realization that things have gone far beyond what he can smooth over.

“What do you mean, they got wrong idea? She can’t even talk; she’s fucking shaking!” Benny shouts, his anger flaring into something dangerous.

“It’s all been handled, it’s okay,” Johnny tries to reassure him, but Benny isn’t buying it. He sees the truth in your eyes, the trauma that words can’t cover up.

“Johnny, she’s not right,” Benny says, his voice tight with a mix of fury and desperation. He quickly takes off his jacket and wraps it around you, his hands moving up and down your arms, trying to warm you, to bring you back from the place where you’ve retreated.

“They got a little handsy,” Johnny finally admits, his voice lacking the nonchalance he’s aiming for, knowing he’s failed to protect you.

“How handsy?” Benny demands, his voice dangerous with a promise of retribution.

“They just thought she was one of the girls, but she’s fine, Benny. Nothing happened. I took care of it,” Johnny insists and his words simmer Benny’s growing rage. He trusts Johnny with his life and that means yours too.

Benny helps you to your feet, your legs trembling so violently you can barely stand. He pulls you close, holding you tightly against him “What happened, baby?” He asks in a hushed tone his eyes searching yours, desperate for some sign that you’re okay, but you can’t give him that.

Your mind is lost somewhere dark, replaying the nightmare over and over again, the terror of what could have happened gripping your heart.

“I’m taking you home, baby,” Benny says, his voice soft but firm, the determination in his tone clear. He knows he needs to get you away from here, away from the chaos, away from whatever just happened.

He scoops you up into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. His grip is strong and protective, but beneath it is a layer of fear, of guilt, knowing that his world, his choices, brought you to this point.

As he carries you quickly to his motorcycle, you rest your head against his shoulder, still shaking, still trying to process the horror of what you just survived.

Johnny stands there, watching you both leave, scratching his head in frustration, stress etched into his features knowing this was a big fuck-up, one that might cost him to lose Benny for good.

Don’t Leave Me

As Benny rides home with you, his grip tightens around your hands, holding them firmly against his chest. You can feel the tension radiating off him, anger and fear battling for control in his mind. The roar of the engine, the wind whipping past, it all feels muted, overshadowed by the weight of what just happened. As you bury your face in his shoulder, you know deep down that things between you and the Vandals will never be the same again.

When you get home, Benny immediately takes you to the shower. He carefully helps you out of your clothing and adjusts the water temperature. As he holds you against his chest waiting for the water to warm up you finally realize you are home safe.

But it also brings a wave of emotions you’ve been holding back and tears well up in your eyes. You cling to Benny and when he looks down at you hearing your sobs, his expression softens with concern.

“Oh, baby,” he whispers, holding your face in his hands. “I’m here, I’ve got you.” He says his thumbs brushing away your tears, but you can’t find the words to tell him what really happened. The fear of what might come next—or maybe just the shock of it all—keeps the truth stuck in your throat.

“Shh shh it’s alright” He says seeing you struggle to find the words and calmly guides you under the hot water the warmth immediately embraces your stunned body.

You close your eyes, letting the water cleanse you and when you open them, Benny has stepped away to give you some privacy.

“Benny,” you call out, panic creeping into your voice feeling the vulnerability of being alone.

“Yeah, baby?” he responds, returning to the doorway shirtless preparing for bed.

“Don’t leave me,” you plead, your voice tinged with a sadness that cuts through him.

“Baby, I won’t,” he reassures you, reaching into the shower and turning off the water. “I’ll stay by you all night,” he says as he helps you out and dries you off wrapping the soft towel around your shoulders. “I’ll stay with you forever,” he says holding you close and pressing a kiss to your forehead to reassure you of your safety, but you can see the turmoil in his eyes.

Later that night, you lie awake. Benny’s arm is wrapped protectively around you, but despite his comforting presence, you can’t shake the fear of the chaos that unfolded. The new Vandals are ruthless without remorse and you’re terrified that this is just the beginning and that things will only spiral further out of control.

You wonder why Benny won’t leave the club and why he refuses to take over, and it dawns on you that he must hate what the club has become. What started as a brotherhood and a symbol of freedom has turned into chaos and mob mentality. Benny’s only reason for staying is to help Johnny enforce some semblance of order, but even that seems like a losing battle now.

You decide to tell Benny the truth in the morning. It wasn’t just a misunderstanding with a few members getting handsy; they were all going to violate you, and Johnny barely managed to save you in time.

As you lie there you understand the truth, Johnny lied because he knows the only reason Benny would ever leave the club is for you.

When you wake up the next morning, Benny is in the shower. Feeling famished, you decide to make breakfast for both of you, slipping into a short-sleeved dress before heading downstairs.

After preparing eggs and toast, you set the food on the counter and call up to Benny, determined to tell him everything. You know that once he hears the truth, he’ll finally have the reason he needs to walk away from the Vandals.

You hear his footsteps upstairs, the familiar creak of the dresser drawer opening, but he doesn’t come down. When he doesn’t respond to your second call, an uneasiness forms in your chest and you head upstairs to check on him.

“Benny?” you call softly as you step into the master bedroom. Benny turns to face you in the act of quickly throwing on his jacket. The tension in the air is undeniable as you take in the scene. Something’s off…something’s very wrong.

“Yeah?” he replies, his voice tight, as though he’s been caught red-handed.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your eyes narrowing, picking up on his unusual behavior.

“Nothing,” he says quickly, but you can see that he’s fully dressed, ready to head out. There’s an urgency in his demeanor, a desperation he’s not quite managing to hide.

“I have something I need to say,” you begin, your heart heavy with the weight of what’s been on your mind.

“I gotta be someplace,” he interrupts, his eyes darting toward the door like he’s desperate to escape whatever’s coming next.

“We all have to be someplace, Benny,” you say, your tone serious, conveying that this is not something you’ll let slide.

“Alright, what is it?” he asks, leaning back against the dresser, his shoulders tense with the stress and that seems to be eating at him.

A long silence stretches between you as you search for the right words as your emotions swirl inside you, threatening to burst forth. Finally, you say it outright, the words heavy with finality.

“I can’t live like this anymore, Benny,” you say, your voice trembling with more emotion than you intended. “And I’m not gonna live like this anymore.” The finality in your words is clear. If he stays in the club, you can’t stay with him.

Benny’s eyes narrow as he processes what you’re saying.

“Last night, Benny, you weren’t there. You didn’t see it,” you reveal, the memory of what happened still raw and painful. “I..I don’t know what I would’ve done if they got me up those stairs and into that bedroom.” Tears well up in your eyes, and you push them back, fighting the disgust and humiliation that threatens to overwhelm you.

“What bedroom?” Benny asks, his concern deepening, the seriousness of the situation dawning on him as you try to hold back your tears.

“Johnny said he took care of it,” Benny says slowly, his eyes narrowing in confusion. “He said when I was gone, nothing happened.”

“That’s not true, Benny!” you exclaim, your voice cracking as the anger and fear you’ve been holding back finally break free.

“They tried to take me up the stairs, a group of them, and you didn’t see it!” Your voice rises, the frustration of staying silent for too long making it impossible to hold back the torrent of pain and fury.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice low, full of regret. His mind reels, replaying Johnny’s words, the betrayal evident in every line of his face as he realizes the truth of what you’re telling him.

“You weren’t there!” you scream, the anguish of the night before breaking through in a wave of despair.

Benny stares at you, seeing you so broken cuts him deeply, and he hates that he’s the cause of it.

You bite your lip, trying to keep it from trembling as you summon the strength to speak the most painful truth. “If they had done what they planned… I don’t think I could live with myself.” Your voice cracks as the weight of the situation crashes down on you, leaving you trembling with sadness.

“C’mon, don’t say that, baby,” Benny says, his eyes filling with hurt. He can see how deeply this has affected you, and it breaks his heart.

“Who would even want me after something like that?” you whisper, the fear and shame eating away at you needing him to understand the gravity of the situation, to see what the club has done to you—to both of you.

His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he stares at you, the weight of what you’ve endured crashing down on him. Johnny lied. The Vandals are out of control. The club is spiraling, and he’s been blind to how deep it’s gone.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks, his voice low and tense filled with the weight of impossible choices.

“I want you to quit the club,” you say with certainty.

Benny’s eyes narrow, his face hardening. “Don’t ask that,” he says, his voice edged with steel.

He knows he can’t just leave the Vandals, it’s a brotherhood bound by blood, to cut ties, especially now, would mean being ‘out bad,’ a fate worse than death in his world.

“Let’s leave for a while then, maybe travel for a few months. We can go anywhere, Benny. Let’s just leave some place,” you plead, desperation lacing your words.

And there’s a silence as Benny looks down, rapidly processing everything you’ve just told him.

You stare at him, waiting, your heart pounding in your chest. The tension in the air is undeniable as you wait for his response, hoping this will be the moment he finally decides to walk away from the chaos.

“Benny,” you say tensely, waiting for his answer, hoping against hope that he’ll choose you. But he sits in silence, his jaw clenched, his knuckles white as he grips the dresser’s edge, the internal battle evident in his tense posture.

“Benny!” you shout desperately, realizing he’s still not ready to leave the Vandals after everything.

“What?” he snaps, the frustration finally breaking through. His anger flares for a moment as he bites his lip, but then he calms, the fight draining out of him. His eyes fill with a heartbreaking sadness, and for a moment, it looks as if he might cry. The vulnerability in his expression is raw and unguarded, and it twists something deep inside you.

“What did you think this was hm?” he asks, his voice heart wrenching, as he remembers all the times you accepted him as he was. “What did you think this was ever gonna be?” he repeats, his voice trembling with conflict.

His words cut deep, a reminder that you married a full-blooded biker, with all the darkness and danger that comes with it, no questions asked.

“Benny,” you whisper, your voice weak and trembling, not wanting to do what you know you have to. He looks away, his jaw clenched and tense as he waits, knowing what’s coming.

Silence falls between you as you look down, wiping the tears that stream down your cheeks. You sniffle, feeling your heart break with the realization that changing Benny was a fantasy, and it was naive to think otherwise.

Benny turns back to the dresser, opening a drawer and tucking something away, but you’re too heartbroken to care.

The realization that you need to prioritize your life without him hits you with a crushing finality, and the dream of a life together shatters in the quiet of the room.

Just as you gather the strength to speak the words, Benny suddenly surges forward, closing the distance between you in an instant. His body presses against yours, his hands gripping your jaw as his lips crash against yours in a kiss more frantic than anything you’ve ever felt.

There’s an overwhelming urgency in the way his mouth moves against yours, his kiss rough and desperate like a man on the edge, as if he knows this is his last chance, and he’s trying to make up for every mistake in this one heated moment.

You barely have time to catch your breath as his hands grip you tightly, wrapping around your waist, pulling you even closer, as his mouth devours yours.

His tongue pushes in, the kiss raw and unyielding, leaving you breathless. There’s no gentleness here, only a frantic need to claim you, to make you his again before everything falls apart.

You know what you need to do, the words you need to say, but Benny doesn’t give you the chance. He breaks the kiss just long enough to tear off his coat, tossing it aside in one swift motion. His grips your arm as if you’ll run away, holding you in place as his other hand moves to unfasten his jeans.

His lips return to yours with a feverish intensity, the kiss hard and demanding. He’s not giving you room to think, to protest, to do anything but feel the overwhelming power of his need.

Despite the turmoil raging within you melt into his embrace. His touch so familiar is powerful makes everything else fade away.

He’s holding onto you, to make you forget, to keep you here with him and the desperation in his touch is impossible to ignore.

Without breaking the kiss, Benny grips your arm and pulls you toward the dresser with sudden, forceful energy. His hold is firm, his need undeniable as he presses you against the unforgiving surface. There’s no room for words, no space for second thoughts his intentions are clear.

He yanks your dress up, the cold air hitting your skin, making you shiver. The tears you’ve been holding back prick at your eyes, but before they can spill, Benny’s hands are on you, pulling you back into the moment, pulling you back to him. His fingers are rough as they spread your legs wide, finding their place with a familiarity that’s charged with a new level of intensity.

He doesn’t hesitate and pulls your panties aside, finding you’re already slick from his touch, your body betraying the chaos in your mind. The moment he pushes his tip into you, a painful moan escapes your lips, vibrating through your entire body.

He doesn’t give you time to adjust, doesn’t even consider it. He thrusts in with one forceful, push his size filling you entirely causing an ache you can barely withstand.

“Benny,” you gasp, your voice trembling as you struggle to catch your breath, wanting to ask him to slow down, to give you a moment.

But Benny is beyond that now. His pace is brutal, relentless, his hips snapping against you with an intensity that leaves you reeling, your body caught between pleasure and pain. Each thrust sends a shockwave through you, the friction overwhelming as your walls tighten around him.

The harsh sound of slapping skin fills the room, mingling with the desperate moans that tear from your throat as your body presses against the dresser. There’s a rawness to his movements, a desperation in the way he’s taking you, like he’s trying to drown out his own pain, his own fear, with every thrust.

Benny’s grip on your waist tightens, his rhythm growing more frantic as he chases his release, as if can find solace in it, that he can somehow escape the reality of what’s happening between you.

You’re both lost in the intensity of the moment, but there’s no relief, no comfort only a desperate, chaotic need that threatens to tear you both apart.

And then, just as suddenly, he stops. He pulls out of you, leaving you gasping at the sudden emptiness, your body still trembling from the relentless assault. Without a word, Benny grabs your waist and hastily pulls you away from the dresser.

He practically lifts you onto the bed, his hands shaking as he positions you beneath him. You catch a glimpse of his face, and your heart tightens at the sight—his eyes are red-rimmed, filled with a torment he’s barely holding back. He’s fighting to keep control, but the tears are there, threatening to fall, the raw emotion in his gaze nearly breaking you all over again.

He hesitates for just a moment, his breath catching in his throat, before he pushes your panties aside once more, and thrusts back into you with force.

The way he fills you again so quickly sends shockwaves through your aching core as you arch from the bed.

His weight bears down on you, his hips grinding into yours with a ferocity. The pleasure builds, but it’s a dark, jagged thing, tearing through you as your body starts to surrender to the intensity.

The initial ache gives way to something deeper, more profound. Your moans are filled with a mix of pain and need, as he continues his relentless thrusts, refusing to let you go, refusing to give in.

His face buries into the crook of your neck his breaths hot and ragged against your skin, and you feel his tears mix with your sweat. His grip on you tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as if he’s trying to anchor himself to you.

“Don’t leave me,” he chokes out, his voice thick with anguish, muffled against your skin but clear enough to cut through you like a knife.

“Benny,” you gasp, feeling the raw emotion in his voice, the way his need is almost suffocating. You hold him tighter, knowing you need to do something, say something to bring him back from the edge.

His thrusts slow, becoming deeper, more deliberate, like he’s trying to carve his presence into your very soul, to make sure you feel him long after this moment ends

You feel his anguish and torment as he groans, his voice filled with pain, his hands gripping your hips with an intensity that matches the depth of his thrusts. He’s making you his, pouring every ounce of his desperation into you. In that moment you understand you can’t leave him, not when he needs you so desperately.

“Benny,” you whisper in his ear, your voice soft but steady, trying to ground him, to pull him out of the spiral he’s caught in.

“I won’t leave you.” You confess. Your words cut through his heavy desperation, and he lifts his face to yours, his eyes brimming with an emotion so intense it steals the breath from your lungs. He kisses you, and it’s not gentle, it’s desperate, frantic, his lips filled with a hunger that’s all-consuming.

His body presses harder against yours, each thrust deep and powerful, driven by the turmoil raging inside him. He loses himself in the feeling of you, moaning against your mouth as his muscles tense, every inch of his body thrusting against yours with wild, unrestrained passion.

His hips drive forward with a force that leaves you breathless, every thrust a wordless plea, as if he’s trying to drown out everything else—the anger, the fear, the guilt—desperately holding onto you as his salvation.

Your hands slide up to cradle his face, and you kiss him back with everything you have, trying to pour all the reassurance you can into that kiss.

Your body responds to every thrust, your own pleasure building as he pours all the pent up emotions he’s been holding back into each movement.

You moan his name, your voice trembling with the intensity of it all, as you feel him tense against you, his cock pulsing as he nears his release. His thrusts become frantic, his desperation to hold onto you undeniable.

He cups your jaw, his fingers digging in just enough to make you focus on him, his eyes locking onto yours, the vulnerability in his gaze making your heart race. “Tell me you love me,” he whispers, his voice cracking with emotion.

“I love you, Benny,” you say, and it’s the truth, even in this dark, twisted moment. You pour every ounce of yourself into the words, pulling him into a deep, desperate kiss. The connection between you grows stronger, more intense, as his body begins to shudder, his control slipping away.

He groans into your mouth, his muscles tensing as he finally reaches his peak, he presses as close to you as possible, holding you against him as he comes with a final desperate thrust. His hips push against you forcefully his cock pulsing his release into you.

He collapses against you, his breath coming in heavy gasps as your arms hold him close, feeling the weight of everything that’s passed between you and you hold him tighter, knowing you’re all he has in this moment.

His breaths are warm against your neck, his body trembling with the weight of his emotions. You trail your hand down his back, your touch soothing, comforting, something that grounds him, even in the midst of all his chaos and as the room falls into a heavy silence, he basks in the comfort of your arms, finding peace in your embrace.

You thread your fingers through his hair, and the connection between you feels different now, deeper, more intimate than before.

The weight of his turmoil seems to lift as he realizes that he has you, and you are everything to him and he knows now he will never let you go.

For the first time Benny feels completely loved, wrapped in your warmth and security finding what he has always longed for.

After a moment in shared silence, he finally speaks from the heart.

“I’m going to leave the club,” he says, his voice steady with newfound resolve as he rests against your chest feeling your fingers affectionately weave through his hair.

“I have to take care of one more thing with Johnny today, and then I’m out,” he confirms, tilting his head up to look at you, his eyes filled with determination.

You nod, feeling a surge of emotion wash over you. For the first time, you truly believe that you and Benny will be free, that there’s a future for both of you beyond this life.

He wipes the tears from his face, grounding himself in the warmth of your body and you gently take his hand and place it on the side of your stomach, your heart pounding with what you’re about to say.

“Benny, you were right,” you begin, your voice trembling slightly with emotion and be looks down at your hand as you place it over his, the significance of the gesture slowly dawning on him. “I am pregnant,” you reveal softly.

For a moment, time seems to stand still. His eyes widen with the realization, and you see the shock flood his expression all at once. In that instant, everything changes for him. It’s as if the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders, and a new purpose has settled into his heart. This—this is what he’s always wanted, even if he never dared to hope for it.

His eyes search yours with an intensity that leaves you speechless. “We’re going to have a baby,” he whispers, almost in disbelief, his voice heavy with emotion. The words hang in the air, filled with awe and reverence. You smile and nod, cupping his face gently, seeing a new side of Benny right in front of your eyes —one full of hope and tenderness.

“I’m going to take care of everything,” he promises, his voice firm with newfound determination. “We’re going to be free, and I’m going to give you and our baby the life you deserve.” He says with conviction.

The road ahead is now clear to him, more important than ever before. His resolve to protect you, to protect this new little life growing inside of you, deepens into an unshakable certainty.

The future he’s been so unsure of now holds a new and profound meaning, and he’s completely devoted to you and the family you’re about to create together.

Stay Gone

Benny gets on his bike, a faint smile forming on his lips. The thought of you, pregnant with his child, fills him with a warmth he’s never felt before. He loves you, and he’ll never leave you as long as he lives.

As he rides toward the Vandals’ bar, a surprising sense of relief washes over him. He’s ready to leave the club, something he’s never seen an original member do before. He wonders what Johnny will say. Benny knows he could’ve gotten out when he broke his leg, but he’s always been loyal, always honest with Johnny. After all, Johnny was the one who took him in when he was abandoned and alone, welcoming him with open arms and the rest is history.

The whole ordeal of Johnny’s meeting today stems from the night at the party when you were attacked by the newer Vandals.

Benny had left you to deal with the aftermath of another brutal incident when Cockroach, one of the original members, had been beaten to a bloody pulp by a group of new recruits.

He told the newer Vandals around a campfire that he planned to leave the club and become a police officer. But the new recruits, coming from different sects, had begun creating their own rules, transforming the brotherhood into something harsh and unforgiving. In their world, loyalty had taken on a brutal, unyielding edge, and in their eyes, pigs don’t fly with bikers.

When Cockroach left the campfire to relieve himself, three of the newer members exchanged a knowing look of agreement, disgusted by what they deemed his disloyalty. Without hesitation, they took turns beating him to within an inch of his life.

Johnny, Cal, Wahoo, and Benny saw the aftermath—concern flickering between them as they took in the severity of the beating on one of their own. The unspoken tension hung heavy in the air, a silent acknowledgment that their brotherhood was being torn apart from the inside.

After Cockroach healed up, he arrived at the club with his head hung low. He wanted out; he wanted to start a new life. Benny and the other members listened to his tale in silence. Once he limped out of the bar, everyone felt unsettled he was an original member, and this would set the precedent for how anyone who wanted to leave would be treated.

Johnny turned to Benny, with a solemn knowing look. “You still got your pistol?” He asked

“Yeah, why?” Benny replied.

“Because we’re gonna go see Cockroach,” Johnny said with a dark glint in his eye.

Now, as Benny reaches the club in the afternoon, he dismounts his bike, pistol tucked securely in the back of his waistband.

During the argument with you, when he discreetly had to hide the fact that he was carrying a gun, he knew the club had indeed become corrupted.

The days of freedom and friendship are now, power shifts and territorial disputes favoring drugs and violence. He doesn’t know what Johnny has planned needing his pistol, but he’s almost certain they won’t kill Cockroach to set an example for leaving the Vandals.

He pushes the doors open to the low hum of blues playing in the background, the usual bar sounds mixing with the music. He spots Johnny and Cal drinking in the corner. He can already hear the sadness in Johnny’s voice as he finishes telling a story about Brusy, making all the guys nod, feeling the weight of Brusys recent passing. “Live a biker, die a biker,” Johnny says, downing a shot.

As soon as Johnny sets the glass down, he smiles, seeing Benny. “There he is!” Johnny says, chuckling as he gets up.

“Johnny, we need to talk,” Benny says, his tone serious.

“About our little mission to see Cockroach? We’ll discuss that later. Come have some drinks, join the guys,” Johnny says, gesturing him over.

But Benny doesn’t budge. “It’s about my wife,” he says with tension.

The room falls silent, and everyone turns to look at Benny, sensing the gravity of his words.

Johnny scratches the back of his head, a bit of apprehension creeping into his voice. “What about her?” he asks, glancing over with a knowing expression on his face.

“She won’t be coming around the club anymore,” Benny says, his voice firm.

Johnny nods slowly. “Good, good. You know, it’s different now. She really shouldn’t—this is a man’s world,” he says, prompting a round of chuckles from the bikers.

Benny knows Johnny won’t side with him on this. Even though the men touched you, Johnny dismissed it as a mistake, chalking it up to confusion with the prostitutes around. But the fact that they manhandled you so violently, despite knowing you screamed for your life, shows they have no shame. You were deliberately targeted.

Johnny senses the shift in Benny’s demeanor, hears the edge in his voice sees the fire in his eyes. He knows Benny’s planning something, and he’s determined to remind him tonight what happens when someone tries to leave on their own terms.

Benny doesn’t join Johnny’s table. Instead, he heads to the bar, sitting alone with his thoughts as he orders a drink.

As Benny downs his glass, his mind drifts to you, how you’ll spend your lives together, raising your child. He’s keeping this precious part of his life to himself, knowing it’s one less thing Johnny can use against him if it comes to that.

At nightfall, Johnny drives Benny to a quiet neighborhood on the lower east side near the tracks. With Benny as second in command, Johnny wants to enforce the new rule for leaving the club, using Cockroach as the example.

Johnny pops the trunk, and Benny’s eyes widen in surprise when he sees a shotgun inside. Johnny grabs the shotgun, slams the trunk shut, and gestures for Benny to follow.

Benny pulls his gun from his waistband as they creep through the neighborhood.

“Don’t do nothin’. Just follow me,” Johnny whispers.

They finally stop in front of a house on the back row.

Johnny cocks and aims the shotgun, blasting the door handle. The loud sound and flash take Benny aback.

They walk through the clearly abandoned house to the kitchen.

A solitary figure sits in the darkness on a chair. When he stands up and steps into the light, Benny recognizes Cockroach. He’s battered and bruised, looking up at Johnny with a glum expression. He knew this was coming; he got the call to stay put until Johnny arrived, allowing him the dishonor of leaving the Vandals.

“Give me your pistol,” Johnny says to Benny. Benny looks at Cockroach, then back to Johnny, and silently hands over his weapon.

Johnny takes Benny’s pistol and, without hesitation aims it at Cockroach’s knee, firing a shot. Cockroach wails in agony as Johnny wipes the blood around his wound

“You let it bleed,” Jonny says, locking eyes with Cockroach, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. His voice is low, unyielding

“Go now and stay gone.” Johnny says with menace. It’s the final, brutal declaration of excommunication from the Vandals, and there’s no mistaking the seriousness in Jonny’s tone.

This isn’t just a warning it’s a death sentence to any ties Cockroach had with the club. The message is unmistakable: the brotherhood is severed from him forever.

Johnny hands Benny his pistol, and Benny feels the heavy weight of it in his hand—the weight of what the club has become.

Benny takes one last look at Cockroach, thinking of all the years and rides they’d shared, only for him to be shot in the leg, perhaps never to ride again and tucks his pistol into the waistband at his back following Johnny out into the night.

The drive back to the Vandals’ bar is silent, not a word spoken between them, both retreating into their thoughts, the weight of the situation hanging heavily on their minds. When the car parks on the familiar street in front of the club, Johnny cuts off the engine

“What the fuck was that?” Benny finally asks stunned by the brutality.

Johnny sighs. “That was taking care of Cockroach,” he emphasizes.

“Like you took care of my wife?” Benny glares at him, his eyes full of rage, still unsettled over what happened to you.

Johnny looks Benny in the eyes, recognizing the accusation, and simply nods.

“Is that what this club is now?” Benny asks. “Is that who we are?” His voice presses, challenging the violent turn the club has taken.

Johnny takes his time, lighting a cigarette. “That’s it,” he answers flatly.

Disgusted, Benny immediately gets out of the car.

Johnny stubs out his cigarette and quickly hops out after him, “Benny, wait!” He shouts.

Benny turns around, his face a mix of anger and dismissal.

“These new guys… these young guys, they don’t listen,” Johnny tries to explain, his tone pleading.

Benny just stares at Johnny, his expression hardening

Johnny’s eyes are almost begging. “I can’t run this club no more,” he admits, his voice heavy with defeat.

Benny looks at Johnny, seeing the desperation in his eyes. For a moment hesitates, torn between his loyalty to Johnny and the overwhelming need to be with you.

Johnny’s eyes plead. “I need you,” he says.

After a moment of thought, Benny finally speaks, making his decision to leave the Vandals clear.

“I don’t ask anyone for anything, and I don’t want anything from nobody,” he says firmly, his eyes locked on Johnny.

“It’s not me, and it’s never gonna be me.” His voice is firm with the weight of his decision, the rejection of Johnny’s offer to lead the Vandals is final.

The two men stare at each other for a moment longer—Benny leaving the club, and Johnny left with a club he no longer wants to lead.

Without another word, Benny turns, hops on his bike, and with a swift kick, roars the engine to life. The sound echoes through the night as he speeds off into the darkness, leaving the Vandals, and Johnny, behind for good.

Out Good

When Benny arrives home, he parks his bike in the driveway, feeling a huge weight lifted from his shoulders he’s finally done with the Vandals. As he dismounts, his hand lingers on the handlebar, his heart heavy with memories of the guys—their adventures, the campfires, the meetings, and the endless rides with the club. Without his pack, he feels like a lone wolf, but now he knows he is creating a new wolf pack of his own with you. One that will last forever.

After Benny showers downstairs, he quietly enters the master bedroom, trying not to disturb you, but you’re already awake, having heard his bike. “Benny?” you call out softly, sitting up in the dark.

“Yeah baby,” he replies, sitting on the bed and climbing in close, pressing himself against you.

his presence soothes you instantly “Benny, I was so worried,” you say softly and he kisses your cheek, his lips lingering warmly against your skin. “You don’t have to worry baby,” he whispers gently.

He kisses you slowly, laying you down on your back, his heart filled with desire. You are the center of his world, the one who kept him from letting the club consume him entirely.

He pauses the kiss to look down at you, hesitating for a moment, almost reverent before he speaks. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice thick with emotion as he gazes into your eyes. “For everything I put you through…you didn’t deserve any of it.”

“Benny…” you begin, reaching up to affectionately touch his jaw, and he leans into your touch, kissing the palm of your hand.

“I’m sorry too,” you say softly, and he looks at you, confused. “For what, baby?” he asks, placing your hand on his chest, holding it there.

“I actually thought of leaving you, Benny,” you admit, your voice heavy with emotion. His expression softens as he cups your face gently. “I know, baby…but after everything I put you through,” he says, his hand trailing down your arm in a comforting gesture. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, his voice full of regret, knowing deep down that you are far better than he ever thought he deserved.

“You deserve more than you think,” you say with a soft smile, guiding his hand to your navel. His eyes follow, looking down at your hands together over your stomach, and he feels a wave of relief wash over him.

“I’ll never leave you Benny,” you promise as he presses his hand over yours, feeling the strength of your commitment, and for the first time he believes you.

“I know, baby,” he whispers, his hand gently trailing up to your jaw, holding it tenderly as he leans down to kiss you softly.

His lips move slowly over yours, full of love and longing, his emotions overflowing because he’s yours, completely. You reach up, threading your fingers through his hair, knowing that you’re both bonded together permanently, with a future full of endless possibilities to create the life you both want.

Bennys Decision

As the weeks turn into months, your belly grows bigger and rounder. The cute summer dresses you once wore have been replaced by long, flouncy dresses that comfortably fit your growing bump. Benny, fueled by his enthusiasm for repairing motorcycles, has enrolled in trade school, leaving you every day to work toward his degree and provide fulfilling purpose for your new lives.

You’ve both decided that once he graduates, he will open a shop in the heart of Chicago, where he can repair cars and motorcycles alike. It was always a dream of yours to open a business, inspired by the guidance of your father, and you are overjoyed that it will now be for Benny.

At trade school, Benny quickly makes friends with like minded enthusiasts, bonding over discussions of engine tuning, and custom builds. The friendship among them eases the transition from Benny old life to this new, more hopeful one.

Benny hasn’t seen the Vandals for months, and though he’s not out bad, all the members know to steer clear of him. The distance is both a relief and a lingering shadow in his heart.

One afternoon, as you water the plants in the kitchen, the faint sound of a motorcycle catches your ear. Smiling, you assume Benny is home and put on your housecoat to greet him. The fabric wraps around your bump, and you take a moment to button it up before stepping outside.

As you step into the crisp, cool air, you’re surprised to see Johnny instead of Benny at the curb. “ Hi Johnny” you greet him as the autumn breeze tugs at the hem of your coat, and you pull it tighter around yourself.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Johnny responds, though there’s a lingering sadness in his eyes for who he really wanted to see. “Benny around?” he asks, stepping forward but keeping a respectful distance.

You cross your arms over your chest, feeling the cool breeze nip at your skin. The weight of your pregnancy makes standing in the cold tiring, so you ease yourself into the rocking chair on the front porch.

“You know Benny,” you say with a warm smile as you settle into the chair.

Johnny nods, his gaze drifting to the quiet street before returning to you. He hesitates, studying your demeanor, the wind rustling through the trees the only sound breaking the silence between you.

“You look good,” he finally says with a reluctant grin. “Cold weather’s got you glowing with the whole rosy cheeks thing,” he adds, pointing.

You smile, a hint of amusement flickering in your eyes as you begin rocking in your chair. Johnny’s clueless comment makes you smirk to yourself. The warmth of the secret you’re carrying adds an extra layer of satisfaction as you bask in the quiet moment.

“What is it, Johnny?” you ask, noticing his eyes narrow as he studies you, a flicker of recognition in his glance.

He shifts his weight and gives you a small, almost knowing grin. “Yeah, do me a favor,” he says, the grin not quite reaching his eyes.

“Sure,” you respond, curious.

“Don’t tell Benny I stopped by,” Johnny says and the words carry a weight that’s hard to miss.

You smile with a bit of resignation, remembering the times you had your own doubts about Benny, when you weren’t sure he’d ever change for you. But he did, and now you both stand on the other side of that decision.

Johnny takes one last glance back at you, something unreadable in his expression, before turning and getting on his new, expensive bike. The engine roars to life, and with a final look your way, he rides off down the street, disappearing into the distance.

As you watch him go, you feel the bittersweetness of the moment. Benny chose you over Johnny, and that choice brought you here, to this new chapter. The bond between them may have been strong, but Benny’s love for you was stronger.

You pull your coat a little tighter around yourself, feeling the weight of the moment, and then slowly rise from the chair, ready to step back into the warmth of your home and the life you’ve built together with Benny.

Some Kid

Benny wakes up early with the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. He has a final at trade school in the afternoon, so he decides to take advantage of the quiet hours of the morning to complete some tasks around the house.

Lying beside you, he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead before his hand slides down to rest on your swollen belly. With only a few more weeks to go, the anticipation fills the air in the quiet house. You stir slightly, rolling over a sleepy smile spreading across your face. “Mmmm,” you murmur as you stretch, and Benny’s arms wrap around you, pulling you close.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he whispers, his voice soft and full of warmth as your eyes flutter open.

“Good morning, handsome,” you reply, your smile widening as he strokes your hair lovingly.

“You want me to make you something to eat?” he asks, his tone gentle. You shake your head, stifling a yawn with your hand.

“Just rest then,” he says, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. You nod in agreement, your eyes closing again as he carefully slips out of bed.

After a quick shower, Benny gets dressed for the day and heads down the hall to the nursery.

As he pushes the door open, he can’t help but smile. Everything inside has been handmade and painted by him in preparation for the impending arrival. He’s painted the walls, built a bookshelf, and constructed a changing table. Now, he sits down to put the finishing touches on the cribs, his heart swelling with pride and love. Unlike him his kin will want for nothing.

By the time Benny finishes, you’ve joined him in the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair he made. You’re engrossed in a book on business operations for opening a mechanic shop, your hand resting protectively on your belly. Benny comes over, leaning down to plant a loving kiss on your lips.

“I gotta go,” he says, knowing it’s time to head out.

You pull him back, kissing him in return and he rubs his hand along your belly kneeling down, pressing his lips to your bump. “Stay put until I get back,” he says softly to your womb, making you giggle.

“I’ll see you all later,” he says affectionately his hand lingering on yours before leaving.

Just before noon, Benny sets off for trade school. The class is routine and after finishing his exam, he shoots the breeze with his friends before everyone departs and he begins the ride home.

As Benny rides, a tug of sadness pulls at his heart. The familiar feel of the wind and the rumble of his bike brings back memories of riding in a pack, of belonging. Now, he’s solo, and the loneliness seeps in. At a red light, instead of turning toward home, he finds himself heading into a rougher neighborhood. He stops a few blocks short of the Vandals club and strides into a nearby bar with a practiced ease, sitting down and ordering a whiskey.

The bar is loud and rowdy filled with bikers murmuring about a recent shooting. “Yea some kid challenged him and instead of fighting like a man the kid shot the guy point blank in the chest. Guy died right on the spot in the parking lot, well known biker too.”

“Yeah, he ran the Vandals club,” one of the older bikers chimes in, then notices Benny at the bar . “Hey, didn’t you ride with that guy?”

Benny’s face goes ashen as the realization hits him. It’s Johnny who’s been shot. He swallows hard, the lump in his throat nearly choking him. “His name was Johnny, right?” the biker asks, and without looking over, Benny nods. He slowly downs his shot with haunted sadness in his eyes, the turmoil inside him undeniable. After a moment, he pays his tab and exits the bar into the cold evening air.

Outside, the weight of the news crashes over him like a tidal wave and Benny feels the wind sucked out of him as memories of Johnny flood his mind—Johnny’s laughter, his words of encouragement, the way he never took anything too seriously. Johnny, his best man, his mentor in every way that mattered.

Benny’s heart shatters right there in the parking lot. He grits his teeth, trying to hold back the emotion, but it’s too much. Quickly, he mounts his bike and drives home, the wind lashing at his face as he pushes the speed, the adrenaline barely masking the agony gnawing at his insides.

When he pulls up to the house, you’re already on the porch, hearing the loud roar of his motorcycle as he sped down the street.

Benny dismounts, and the sight of him breaks your heart. His eyes are red rimmed, his face a mask of anguish, as if he’s on the verge of tears but trying desperately to hold it together.

He walks toward you with slow, heavy steps, his breath catching as he struggles to keep his emotions in check. You can see it in his eyes, something terrible has happened.

As he reaches you, Benny collapses onto the porch steps, the weight of his emotions pulling him down. When you sit with him and he buries his head against your chest, and that’s when the dam finally breaks. He sobs uncontrollably, his cries raw and desperate, his breath hitching as he gasps for air. His handsome face is twisted in torment, his body shaking with the force of his grief.

“…Johnnys …dead…” he finally gasps out his voice trembling and you hold him close. You wrap your arms around him tightly as if you could shield him from the pain. Your fingers gently stroke his hair, your other hand rubbing soothing circles on his back as you press soft kisses to his head, though you know nothing can ease the ache in his heart.

Benny clings to you, his sobs unrelenting, the loss of Johnny cutting deep into his soul. He’s inconsolable, the grief overwhelming him, as if the very foundation of his world has been ripped away. The weight of Johnny’s death has broken him, and all you can do is hold him, letting him release the torrent of pain he’s been holding inside.

Time seems to stand still as you sit together on the porch, the evening air cool around you. Benny’s cries slowly begin to subside, his body exhausted from the intensity of his emotions. You continue to hold him, your presence a steady anchor in the storm of his grief, your love the only thing keeping him from being completely lost to the darkness.

When the Bow Breaks

When Benny prepares you dinner a few weeks later, he’s starting to return to some semblance of himself. His movements are still weighed down by grief, but he pushes through, focusing on taking the best care of you. The lingering sadness in his eyes is evident, but he channels all his energy into caring for you.

“C’mon, baby, you need to eat for us,” he urges gently, noticing you toying with the food on your plate again. “You haven’t eaten a thing today” he says noticing your expression unsettled.

“I cant…Benny, I don’t feel well,” you reply softly, a touch of sadness in your voice.

Concerned, he comes to your side, placing the back of his hand to your forehead to check for a fever. “You’re burning up, baby,” he says, worry creeping into his voice as he feels your clammy skin scorching his hand.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he insists, his concern growing.

As you stand, a sharp pain grips your lower abdomen, and you wince, instinctively reaching holding his hand steadying yourself. The sensation intensifies, spreading through your body like a wave, and suddenly, you both realize what’s happening—your labor has begun.

Benny’s eyes light up, despite the terror flashing in them, as the reality of the moment sinks in. “Baby! It’s happening!” he exclaims, his breath catching in a mix of excitement and fear.

In that instant, all thoughts of the loss that has haunted him are pushed aside. His focus is entirely on you, the woman he loves more than anything and he’s prepared to welcome his offspring into the world.

He sets you gently on the couch, his every movement tender, though the pain intensifies with each passing second. “It hurts, baby?” he asks, his voice laced with worry seeing your face flushed as you breath sharply with your eyes closed.

“Yeah, Benny really bad,” you gasp, gripping the edge of the cushion as another wave of pain hits you.

“Wait right here,” he says, darting upstairs. He returns in a flash with his rucksack, packed with everything you’ll need for the hospital. Carefully, he helps you into the car, his hands steady but his heart racing with a mix of anxiety and excitement.

Every bump, every turn of the car has you moaning in pain, and Benny does his best to drive softer, his heart pounding as he tries to keep you as comfortable as possible.

The tension is undeniable, the anticipation almost overwhelming as he finally parks the car under the hospital awning.

“Wait right here, don’t move,” he says, dashing inside. Moments later, he’s back with the medical staff, who quickly load you into a wheelchair. By now, the pain is agonizing, your body covered in a light sheen of sweat, your face flushed. Benny walks alongside you, his emotions a chaotic mix of panic and thrill as you’re wheeled into the hospital room where you will give birth.

An hour passes, filled with the struggle and strain of labor. Dozens of pushes later, Benny is right by your side, your hand clinging tightly to his, your body spent. “I can’t do it,” you relent, tears of exhaustion brimming in your eyes.

“C’mon, baby,” he says, his voice firm yet gentle. “Just keep your eyes on me. you’re almost there. just one more push.”

His words give you the strength you didn’t know you had, and with one final, determined push, the sound of a baby’s cries fills the air. You look at Benny, your eyes shaking with disbelief and joy. Then, to your astonishment, another cry follows, and together, the sound of new life fills the room, echoing around you both.

The medical staff moves quickly, cleaning and wrapping the babies in soft blankets. They place a tiny, wriggling boy in Benny’s arms, and a precious little girl in yours. You both are ecstatic, your hearts swelling with a love so profound it brings tears to your eyes.

Benny is overcome with emotion, his eyes welling up as he gazes down at his son. He’s so filled with joy he can barely speak. “This is the happiest day of my life,” he chokes out, his voice thick with tears.

You’re exhausted, your body aching from the ordeal, but as you look down at the tiny bundles in your arms, your heart fills with a love you’ve never known before. Benny coos softly at his son, then reaches out to touch his daughter’s bundled up form, his hand trembling with joy.

He carefully places your son into your arms, so you’re holding both of your newborns together. Overwhelmed with happiness, Benny leans in and kisses all three of you, his lips lingering on your forehead, then brushing against each baby’s head. His body trembles with pure, unfiltered joy, and you can’t help but get wrapped up in his excitement.

As you cradle your babies, Benny’s eyes meet yours, and in that moment, you know that this is what you both have been waiting for this is the life you’ve fought for. He kisses you again, a deep, lingering kiss full of love and gratitude, and as you hold your family close, you realize that nothing else matters. This is your world, and it’s perfect.

Florida

After several years together Benny is now a full fledged mechanic and business owner, with his shops so renowned in Chicago, he’s even expanded to Florida where the two of you purchased a beautiful vacation home to escape the harsh winters.

Your Florida home is a stunning two story, three bedroom house that radiates warmth and comfort. The exterior is a blend of sandy beige and soft white, with large windows that allow the bright Florida sun to flood the interior with light. The front yard is warm and inviting, with a swing set for the twins surrounded by lush greenery and vibrant flowers.

On the second floor, the spacious bedrooms each have their own balcony, offering breathtaking views of the surrounding area. The master bedroom’s balcony is your personal oasis, where you watch the sunrise over the ocean with Benny in the mornings.

Inside, the décor is a mix of modern elegance and cozy touches of plush furniture, hardwood floors, and soft, muted tones that create a sense of peace and relaxation.

The first floor is Bennys garage haven filled with his impressive collection of cars and motorcycles. Though he doesn’t ride as often anymore, you still see the flicker of excitement in his eyes when he hears the loud roar of a bike nearby.

Today is no different as you glance out from the second story large pane glass window of the kitchen. You catch Benny’s expression as he listens intently to the sound of a motorcycle that fills the air in the distance, a look of nostalgia and joy lighting up his face.

He’s sitting with his friends by the back yard pool beer in hand. The barbecue is going strong nearby with one of your neighbors tending to the hot dogs on the grill.

“Daddy’s looking at you,” Bella says, her voice full of innocent mischief. You turn away from your task of putting the finishing whisk on the potato salad, crouching down to your daughters level.

“Is he now?” you ask playfully, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear as she waves at her daddy.

You look up to see Benny gazing at you with that warm, affectionate smile that never fails to make your heart flutter. His hair is longer and a bit sandier blonde from the Florida sun, gently swept back. A handsome mustache now adorns his face, framing his full lips in a way that makes him even more striking.

Suddenly Benny’s eyes light up even more, and he begins to laugh. You follow his line of sight and see your son, Johnny, pressing his face against the glass window, licking it with all the enthusiasm a six year old can muster.

“Johnny!” you call out, half-chiding, half-laughing. He bursts into a fit of giggles, pulling back from the window with a mischievous grin.

“C’mon, you two let’s go see Daddy,” you say, picking up the bowl of potato salad. Bella slips her small hand into yours, and little Johnny follows closely behind, his toy motorcycle clutched in his hand. He drives it along the wall as he walks, making the familiar “brrrrn brrrrr” sound with his little voice, lost in his imagination.

As you reach the landing and turn toward the pool, your neighbors over for the barbecue-b-que wave and smile, the sound of jazz floating through the air from the large outdoor speakers. The neighbors kids are all squealing and running around, their laughter blending with the music. Benny stands up to greet you all, his smile broadening as he kneels to hold Bella, hugging her tight. He ruffles little Johnnys hair before they both run off to join the other children at the party.

You place the potato salad with the rest of the dishes on the long table, looking over the array of delicious food with a satisfied grin. Benny makes his way over to you, his eyes never leaving you. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close as he presses a kiss to your cheek.

“I can’t keep my eyes off you in this little dress,” he whispers against your ear, his breath warm and his tone full of affection.

You grin, a playful twinkle in your eye. “You’re insatiable, Benny Cross,” you tease, your voice soft and loving.

“You bring it out of me,” he murmurs back, his words filled with warmth and adoration. He turns you in his arms, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, feeling the strength and comfort of him as he holds you close. Benny leans in, his lips capturing yours in a long, loving kiss. It’s a kiss full of passion and tenderness, a kiss that speaks of the deep love and connection you share.

As his lips move against yours, you feel the world around you fade away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect moment. His hand slides up your back, holding you gently yet securely, as if you’re the most precious thing in his world. When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and he gazes into your eyes with a look of pure, unfiltered love.

“I love you,” he whispers, his voice low and full of emotion.

“I love you too, Benny,” you reply, your heart swelling with happiness as you lean in to kiss him again, savoring the taste of his lips and the feel of his arms around you.

🏍️ THE END 🏍️

Special thanks: purejasmine, burnthheparaphilia & butdaddyilovehim99 I couldn’t have done it without you.

🏍️ Benny Cross Tag List 🏍️

@finley-08 @ashleybutler-26 @ifuckindontknow @landlockedmermaid77 @jvanilly @oceanablue @12joeywheelerfangirl @autumnleaves1991-blog @presley1992 @rose-deathman @sillylittlethrowaway @lillypink @faephoria @nostalgichoya @ausssbutlershortstories @fallout-girl219

🏷️ Always Tags Me List 💌 @faegoddessog @lindszeppelin @abswifey @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @unicoreads @lovereadingfanfic @elvismylove04 @denised916 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @jkdaddy01 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @majestyjade @gravesdiggergirl

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alexlwrites · 5 days ago

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And here it is at last!!! Part 4 of "Yoongi who never had a crush... Until you" from my notes app!

Feedback is always appreciated <3

(<<< Part 3)

(buy me a coffee ;) )

---

Yoongi had officially given up.

He tried everything. Every seduction technique, every prayer and manifestation chant, everything but maturely communicating his feelings (that was for losers anyway!). Alas, even the clairvoyant kids on TikTok seemed to believe you were both just not meant to be, as he had never been able to find a soulmate video that matched your initials with his.

Needless to say, he reported all the videos for false information. Fuck them kids.

Thoroughly humiliated, he got tired of being the endless source of entertainment to his five friends and Jimin (now no longer a friend, but his public enemy) and decided that it was time to count his losses and move on. And yes, it would hurt, and yes, the thought of lips against his would haunt him for a lifetime, but surely it was nothing a marathon of Property Brother and a shitload of alcohol couldn’t heal.

And as if the universe had heard him for once, suddenly he wasn’t seeing you as often as he used to. No longer were you the one responsible for bringing him his morning coffee or reminding him of his schedule, but some rat mustached boy named Bob. Yoongi kind of hated Bob, unreasonably so, but at that time Yoongi kind of hated everything so Bob didn’t take it that personally.

A couple days after his hurtful decision of moving on and deleting all his first date ideas from his note app, Yoongi was moping around his studio, alone for once after he changed the password to the door to keep his friends from attempting to cheer up with their less than ideal ways (really, Jin? A mariachi singing telegram?). He was bitterly drinking from his wrong coffee order (FUCKING BOB!!!) when the door opened and, of all people, you showed up.

“Hi, Mr. Min!” you said to which he smartly answered with an unidentifiable noise “I’m sorry to interrupt your… Is that Extreme Makeover Home Edition?”

Yoongi hastily closed his laptop. Then threw it in the trash.

“No. I was working on some new music. It wasn’t good so…” he pointed at the can “Garbage.”

“Right…” you agreed doubtedly making Yoongi want to join his laptop “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I was transferred to another department, unfortunately, so now Bob will be with you full time. He’s the one that gave me your new password, actually. I hope you guys are getting along well!”

Fucking Bob!!!

“We are not. I hate him.”

You laughed and Yoongi wasn’t sure what was so funny about what he said, but he was glad anyway.

“You’re so funny, Mr. Min. I’m gonna miss working with you.” you looked at him with such fondness that for a moment Yoongi thought his heart was going to climb out his chest through his mouth “Although, I’m glad you’re not my boss anymore.”

His dancing heart stopped. Oh, no. Oh, no. Was he a terrible boss? Was he the Gordon Ramsey of idols? Did he ever treat you like he treated Bob?

“Oh?” he said, holding back a three minute long scream.

“Yeah” you continued, tucking down a lock of hair behind an ear shily “cause now I don’t feel so bad asking if you’d like to get dinner with me sometime?”

Fuck it. Bob’s getting promoted.

#bts x reader #bts fanfic #min yoongi #bts #min yoongi x reader

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taylornation · 9 months ago

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The crowd was chanting “MORE” 🗣️ so THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT Collector’s Edition Deluxe CDs are now available at store.taylorswift.com for 48 HOURS or while supplies last! Ships on or before 5/31.

#Taylor Swift #THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT #TS TTPD #Collector's Edition #Deluxe CDs

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hivemuthur · 30 days ago

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The Game of Teaching Body - Ch. 3.

viktorxfemale!reader mature! (for now, I will mark later chapters as explicit when the time comes)

AU university, AU modern era, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, teasing, pinning, banter, eventual romance and therefore smut, Viktor is simultaneously a menace and needs a hug, TA Viktor

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.9. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12.

word count: 5,7K

tag: #the game of teaching body

summary: I don't even know. Just... read it. Trigger warning for this chapter: Hamilton, The Musical.

Cross-posted on AO3 + POV3rd Person Version

—

“How come you’re in the science department and doing a theatre gig during Open Days?” Sue asked, lying sideways on her bed, her legs resting on the wall and crinkling up her Blur poster. Her hair was splayed across the floor as she ate a lollipop, following your pacing with nothing but the movement of her eyes.

“Apparently, Theodor is violently ill, and Hale volunteered my flesh in a ritual,” you scoffed. Ridiculous. You’d told Hale there was no way in hell, but he had thrown himself at your feet, weeping theatrically in front of his entire group, while they chanted, “Do it, do it!” like some cult.

You picked up the pieces of costume Hale had brought you after the fitting. They were supposed to be tailored to your size, yet everything was still slightly too big. “There’s no one else in this world who knows Hamilton by heart,” you muttered bitterly. At that moment, you cursed your good memory and your love of musicals more than ever.

“And it’s like… fine that you’re going to play… a Black guy?” Sue whispered the last part, as if it were illegal to even say it. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sue… he wasn’t Black, Jesus. It’s just the actor... ah, whatever. Will you come?” you pleaded, your voice laced with desperation. It was clear you wouldn’t go through with it unless Sue promised to cheer you on and then make fun of you for the rest of your days together.

“Y/N. Look at me,” Sue said, attempting to make a serious face as the lollipop left her mouth with a quiet pop. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I don’t deserve you,” you said, crouching down to kiss Sue’s forehead before licking her face for good measure.

“Ugh, you’re so gross. Break a leg!” Sue shouted after you as you ran out, as though you were, well, running out of time.

You tore down the corridor like a madwoman, half-dressed in 18th-century men’s attire because you’d promised Hale you’d make it to rehearsal. Taking a sharp turn around the corner, your forehead collided violently with something hard, and the sound of metal clattering on the tiled floor filled your ears.

Groaning, you rubbed your head and looked up to see that you’d knocked Viktor clean off his feet. What hit your forehead was a hardback version of Bioengineering Fundamentals. Jayce, standing beside him, had to prop himself against the wall to keep from falling over with laughter.

“Jesus, Viktor, I’m so fucking sorry,” you blurted, scrambling to your feet and grabbing him by the waist to help him up. He was so shocked he didn’t say a word. Finally, once you’d managed to gather his scattered notes and hand them back to him, he started laughing.

“Is there a burning need to found a country somewhere?” he asked with a grin, sending Jayce into another round of hysterical laughter.

You tried to regain your composure but failed, laughing along with them. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?” you asked, shooting Viktor a glance and frowning in a friendly way.

The moment felt strange. You hadn’t addressed the A- you’d received on your infamous paper, and you’d been meaning to ask him about it. But he’d fled the classroom before you could ambush him, and it had been like that for the past two weeks.

“Well, for your information, I am helping a friend in need,” you said, patting Jayce’s shoulder as he wheezed with laughter, wiping tears from his face.

“And who are you supposed to be?” Jayce barely managed to ask through his hysterical fit.

“Aaron Burr, pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Before you could think, you took Jayce’s hand in yours, bowed, and placed an introductory peck on it. Thankfully, Jayce thought nothing of it, and the gesture sent him reeling with laughter again. You just rolled your eyes and added, “No time to explain. Come see, the show is in the main courtyard in… shit, in thirty minutes.”

You were about to run off again, but Viktor’s questioning look stopped you. Over your shoulder, you hastily called, “I’ll tell you over a beer!” and fled.

Wait. Had you just invited both Jayce and Viktor to witness your ridiculous performance? And invited Viktor to have a beer with you? That was it—you had completely lost your mind.

Bursting through the backstage doors, you were half out of breath, clutching your costume hat in one hand and your scarf in the other. Hale spun around dramatically, his hands thrown up as though he’d been about to make a grand declaration to the heavens.

“Y/N! My saving grace, my knight in shining breeches—you’re here!” he exclaimed, rushing over to you as if your delay had shaved years off his life. “I was moments away from throwing myself upon the mercy of the audience and telling them the show must not go on. But you’ve come to save us!”

“Cut the theatrics, Hale. I’m here, aren’t I?” you huffed, pulling on the hat and shaking out the rest of your costume. You hadn’t even had time to finish dressing properly.

“Barely,” Hale teased, though his expression softened as he rested his hands on your shoulders. “Really, Y/N. Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

You waved him off, pretending to be nonchalant despite the flush creeping into your cheeks. “Yeah, yeah. You owe me your firstborn or something.”

The rest of the theatre group began to gather around, buzzing with pre-performance energy. Hale snapped into action, leading them into what you could only describe as the most bizarre pre-show ritual you’d ever witnessed. It involved everyone joining hands in a circle, chanting what sounded like a mix of inspirational quotes and nonsense phrases, all while Hale stood in the centre, waving his arms like some kind of benevolent priest.

Trying not to laugh, you leaned in and whispered to him, “You know you’re definitely going to start a cult one day, right?”

Hale turned to you with a mock-offended expression. “How dare you, Mr. Burr? This is high art.” He extended his hand toward you, palm up, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. “Now, are you ready?”

You smirked, placing your hand in his with exaggerated formality. “No time like the present, Mr. Hamilton.”

Hale grinned wide, squeezing your hand once before leading the group toward the stage.

When you stepped out into the courtyard, the cold evening air hit you, but the sight of the assembled crowd gave you no time to focus on it. The makeshift stage was set with a minimalist backdrop, and the audience sat on scattered benches and blankets in the open space. As Hale began his introduction, your eyes scanned the crowd.

It didn’t take long to spot Sue. Your friend stood right at the front, waving frantically and holding up crossed fingers. “Go, Y/N!” Sue yelled, loud enough for the whole audience to hear.

You groaned, covering your face in mock embarrassment, but you couldn’t help smiling. Your gaze drifted to the opposite side of the crowd, where you caught sight of Jayce and Viktor. Jayce, as expected, gave you an enthusiastic thumbs-up, grinning ear to ear. Viktor, standing beside him, met your gaze and offered a subtle nod. His smile was small but unmistakably amused, his golden eyes sparkling in the glow of the stage lights.

A flutter of nerves ran through you, but you straightened your posture and took a deep breath.

Hale’s voice boomed across the courtyard. “Ladies, gentlemen, and beautiful creatures, friends, and foes, tonight you are in for a treat! Our school prides itself on breaking all boundaries, and tonight is no exception. I’m honoured to announce that we have a very special guest joining our cast—a true star from the science department!”

The audience chuckled, and you found yourself bowing awkwardly as Hale gestured toward you with a flourish. You waved sheepishly, suppressing your own laughter at the absurdity of it all. It didn’t help that the audience seemed doubly amused by the fact that you were playing a male role. Boundaries broken, big time.

“Now,” Hale continued, his dramatic flair still in full force, “let us take you back to the revolution!”

You held back a laugh, planted your feet firmly on the stage, and braced yourself for what was sure to be the most ridiculous evening of your academic career. Closing your eyes, you waited for your cue. It was just a couple of songs, and you really knew them by heart. You decided to sink into your role completely, just as you had during those boring summers in the Sheffield suburbs when you and Hale acted out the entire Hamilton soundtrack in your backyard. You had been training to be Aaron Burr for at least five years.

When you performed the first song, you were timid. Alexander Hamilton started with a gentle recitation, balancing on the verge of rap and poetry. Thankfully, you weren’t the main singer in this number, but you did catch the crowd’s surprised expressions as they locked onto the stage chemistry between you and Hale. As you felt the voices of the group swelling behind you, your courage kicked in, and you let yourself sink into the experience. You sang bravely with the choir, hit your cues, and couldn’t help but smile when you saw Sue clutching her chest in awe and Jayce swaying to the music. Viktor, of course, didn’t move an inch.

The next part was far harder. Wait for It was entirely Aaron Burr’s song, and you had no time to transition from the comfort of performing with the group to the isolation of a soloist. As you walked up and down the stage, singing your lines, you closed your eyes and let the music carry you once again. But as you sang the verse I’m willing to wait for it, it struck you that the words felt far removed from the American Revolution. You weren’t singing about history anymore—you were singing about something personal, something closer to your own life. And so, you poured your heart into it.

The crowd was enraptured, and as the song came to an end, you felt tears welling up in your eyes. Not for any particular reason—just the release of tension, the rush of it all.

They finished the set with Non Stop, and it was brilliant. This was what Hale was born for: an artistic, half-sung, half-rapped banter that he got to perform with his best friend while wearing ridiculous, fluffy shirts and oversized hats. You watched him, pride swelling in your chest.

It wasn’t perfect—and yet, it was. The crowd laughed at your mid-song mock conversation, and you had to stifle your own giggles at how absurd it must have looked. Hale was over a full head taller than you, and yet here you were, sparring and singing like equals.

The applause was deafening. You and Hale exchanged a quick, wide-eyed glance before stepping forward to bow. The crowd’s enthusiasm only grew louder, forcing you both to retreat backstage before being called out again, not once but three times. You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all, your cheeks flushed as you waved to the audience. You had no idea how you’d gotten roped into this, but somehow, it felt worth it.

On your third return to the stage, the crowd’s energy reached a new level. Sue stood in the front row, pumping her fists in the air and yelling, “Aaron Burr! Aaron Burr!” The chant caught on like wildfire, spreading through the audience until it echoed off the courtyard walls. Your face turned an even deeper shade of red as you covered your face with your hands in embarrassment.

Hale, ever the showman, raised his hands dramatically, silencing the crowd. “Ladies, gentlemen, and all beautiful creatures,” he declared, striding toward you with the exaggerated flair of a Shakespearean actor. “Clearly, the world is not ready for her!” He paused for effect, then bowed deeply before you, extending the microphone as though it were Excalibur. “I give you... Aaron Burr.”

You shook your head, grinning despite yourself, and took the microphone with mock solemnity. “Thank you, Sir Hamilton,” you said, your voice dripping with exaggerated formality. You turned to the audience, gesturing toward Hale with the mic. “First of all, I’d like to clarify that I am, in fact, his hostage. This whole performance? His idea. I’m just a humble victim of his orchestrated chaos.”

The audience laughed, and you spotted Sue in the front, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.

“And as you can see,” you continued, a mischievous glint in your eye, “the science department at this fine university has so much to offer. I mean, we clearly do everything around here.” Your words were met with more laughter and applause, and as you glanced out into the crowd, your gaze landed on Viktor.

To your surprise, he was laughing. Not just smiling politely but laughing—his shoulders shaking slightly as his lips curled into a grin. For a moment, you froze. You weren’t sure what to make of it, but the sight warmed you in a way you weren’t prepared for.

Hale leaned into the microphone, snapping you out of your thoughts. “All right, all right, that’s enough of a spotlight for Mr. Burr here,” he teased, taking back the mic. “Now give it up one more time for the entire cast!”

The crowd erupted again, and you took another bow, trying not to stare too long in Viktor’s direction as you exited the stage. As soon as you stepped off, Sue threw her arms around you in a tight hug.

“You didn’t tell me you’re a fucking genius!” Sue practically screamed.

“Ah, not much to do around Sheffield,” you laughed, happy but relieved it was over. There really wasn’t much for them to do around Sheffield, so you all knew your musicals better than your own mothers.

“I too bow to your genius, Mr. Burr,” Jayce’s voice startled you as he dramatically bowed before pulling you into a tight hug. “What the hell, Y/N? What are you even doing in the science department?”

“I… wanna be in the room where it happens,” you quipped, your grin widening as Hale laughed loudly—the only one to catch the reference.

“I had no idea you had it in you,” Viktor said, his tone carefully measured. He looked like he was trying not to meet your gaze, but there was something in his expression—a faint flicker of admiration he was trying to hide. You, caught up in your post-performance high, mistook it for mockery.

“Oh, you have no idea. I have so much in me, Viktor. You’re not ready for me,” you fired back, your inhibitions long gone as you basked in the adrenaline and laughter around you.

Hale’s arm slid around your shoulders from behind, pulling you close as he grinned mischievously. “Pub, pub, pub,” he chanted, looking expectantly at the group.

The others exchanged glances before nodding in agreement. Hale pumped his fist in victory, letting out a triumphant “Yes!” as they began gathering their things.

“Wait, I can’t go dressed as Aaron Burr!” you exclaimed, tugging at the ridiculous fluffy shirt you were still wearing.

“You are Aaron Burr, my love,” Hale declared with dramatic flair, spinning you toward the door as though you were about to take the stage again.

“That would mean one day I’m going to kill you, Hale,” you retorted, crossing your arms in mock indignation.

“Darlin’, dying by your hand would be a blessing,” Hale shot back with a flourish, clasping his hands to his chest as if you’d already delivered the fatal blow.

The group erupted into laughter, but Viktor’s voice cut through, calm and measured as always. “It suits you,” he said, his gaze lingering on you, his lips quirked in that rare, faint smile that always seemed to unnerve you.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What does?”

“The outfit,” Viktor clarified, gesturing subtly to your absurd costume. “It is bold and... untraditional. Very much like you.”

You weren’t sure if that was meant to be a compliment or an insult, but the warmth in his tone made your cheeks flush, nonetheless. “Well, I’m glad someone appreciates my theatrical side,” you said, quickly looking away to avoid overthinking the exchange.

“Let’s go already!” Jayce called, clapping his hands to corral the group.

“Fine, but if anyone recognizes me in public, I’m blaming all of you,” you muttered, pulling the coat Hale handed you over your costume.

“And if they don’t recognize you,” Hale added with a wink, “we’ll just have to start singing again.”

“Oh god, no.” You groaned, but the grin tugging at your lips betrayed you.

The group headed out into the crisp night air, your laughter echoing through the hallways as you made your way to the pub—you, still dressed as Aaron Burr, walking just a little taller with the glow of the performance still lingering in your chest.

You arrived at the pub late, yet it was still packed with current and future students seeking refuge after the Camden Open Days. Hale insisted on getting you drunk at his own expense, so when everyone finally had a drink in hand, the group settled by the fireplace, next to a pair of freshers too occupied with devouring each other’s faces to notice.

“I didn’t think it was possible for someone to be having an even better time than us tonight,” Hale said in an exaggerated whisper, clearly hoping the couple would flinch. They, of course, didn’t.

Jayce and Viktor sat on the couch; Sue crouched on her heels by Hale’s head, while you propped yourself against Hale’s hips as he sprawled with his back to the fire, propping his head on his elbow. His eyes lit up as he spotted Mel approaching the group.

“Thank you for adopting me; my bitches ditched me,” she said with an apologetic smile, planting a loud kiss on Jayce’s cheek before settling on his lap. “I hear we have a new rising star?” she added, bowing her head in recognition toward you.

“Please, I don’t think I can handle so much fame,” you groaned theatrically, palming your face. “But I’m honoured to finally meet you,” you added with a warm smile.

“Honey, I wouldn’t miss this opportunity—Hale doesn’t shut up about you,” Mel teased, grinning at Hale, who accepted the jab with stoic calmness.

“I don’t see why I’d ever have to shut up about her,” he replied, deadpan. “She’s the love of my life.” You only smiled knowingly. He meant every word of it.

Mel raised an eyebrow at Hale’s declaration, then turned her attention to Viktor and Jayce, a sly grin spreading across her face. “Speaking of friends for life—when are you two finally going to accept my invitation to hang out with my girls?”

“I thought you said they just abandoned you?” Jayce asked, faking concern as he patted Mel’s head with exaggerated pity. “I’ll have to have a word with them first.”

You raised your eyebrows, a realization dawning on you—had Viktor lied to you? You watched as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly searching for a clever response. Yes, he was definitely busted.

He was saved by Sue, who hadn’t looked up from her phone the entire time. She raised her hand, as if trying to answer a question in class. “Guys, do you mind if I… well, ditch you?”

Five pairs of questioning eyes turned to her, and she sighed before adding, “I might or might not have a date.”

“Sue! Spill the tea, or we’re not letting you go!” Hale exclaimed, bouncing upright and causing you—who were still leaning against him—to jolt and spill a little of your beer.

Sue played coy for a moment, but then she decided to own it. “Alice. She’s from your group. She… approached me after your show.”

Hale clapped his hands together dramatically. “In that case, I sense the rise of another power couple! Sue, you have my blessing.” He placed a hand over the crown of her head with mock benediction, earning a round of laughter.

You leaned forward, curiosity piqued. “Will you be coming back tonight, or should I plan to sleep with one eye open in case Alice kidnaps you?”

Sue simply flashed a mischievous smile. “No promises.”

Mel smirked, resting her head on Jayce’s shoulder. “Well, in that case, Jayce, my room will also be free tonight. Don’t go breaking anything, though. My deposit’s on the line.”

Jayce groaned in exasperation, but his ears flushed red, which only made Mel laugh harder.

Your gaze drifted to Viktor, catching the subtle shift in his posture. It seemed the conversation was circling back to him, and he looked like he was already bracing for it. Before anyone could call him out, he cleared his throat. “Well, in that case, I’ll leave the royal couple to their moment of glory. You’ve earned it after such a successful evening.” He offered a polite smile and rose from his seat.

Hale straightened and turned to you, offering you an exaggeratedly regal nod. “What do you say, my love? Do you want to hang with your old man a little longer?”

You grinned, raising your drink in mock solemnity. “Always.”

With that, the group exchanged goodbyes, Sue leaving with a conspiratorial wink, Mel tugging Jayce toward the door, and Viktor giving a brief nod before slipping into the night.

Once you were alone, Hale sighed contentedly and stretched out in his seat. “Well, Mr. Burr, looks like it’s just us. Let’s reminisce about how we conquered the stage, shall we?”

You laughed, leaning back against him. “You mean how you carried me through the whole thing? Sure, I’m in.”

“You were amazing. But you’re no Aaron Burr, I hope you know that,” Hale said seriously as he leaned you against himself, pulled you closer to his chest, and wrapped his arm around your shoulders as was his habit. When you didn’t respond, he added, “If anything, you’re Hamilton.”

“I think I’ve been all of them at different points in my life... but thank you.” You squeezed his hand and smiled to yourself, the high of the performance slowly fading, leaving you tired but content.

“And how’s it going with Mr. Grumpy? Still making your life hard? Do I need to have a word with him?” Hale mused, gently rocking you back and forth in his arms. He listened through enough rants about Viktor to see where this was going.

You sighed, leaning your head against Hale's shoulder. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “One moment, I want to gouge his eyes out. The next, he secretly fixes my test and then avoids me for two weeks, just to make it impossible to say thank you.”

Hale chuckled softly. “Why do you think he does that?” He’d seen enough clumsy advances in his lifetime to spot one from a mile away. This one was a piece of cake.

You shrugged, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “Probably bored out of his mind. All I ever see him doing outside of class is working on his PhD thesis with Jayce.”

Hale tilted his head, a sly grin creeping across his face. “Or…?”

You scoffed and straightened up. “Please, don’t be ridiculous.” The thought was absurd. If anything, you had the potential for a competitive friendship—food for the brain and all that.

Hale’s grin softened, and he shifted, turning you to face him. He placed his hands firmly on your shoulders, his gaze suddenly serious. The theatrical Hale disappeared, replaced by the steadfast best friend you rarely got to see. “Listen to me,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “I don’t care how many times I have to do this, but I’ll keep doing it until you understand what you are.”

You averted your eyes, your face heating up. You let your head hang slightly as you muttered, “Yeeees, I know—I’m a queen.”

Hale shook his head and tilted your chin up so you couldn’t avoid his gaze. “No,” he said firmly. “You are a king. And you bow to no one.”

You blinked, the weight of his words sinking in. For a moment, your chest tightened with emotion, but you managed a small, lopsided smile. “I really fucking love you, you know?” you murmured, your voice quieter now.

***

Hale gave you a long hug by the fountain before you both went your separate ways to your designated dorm buildings. He kissed your forehead and tucked a cigarette behind your ear, for when you’d inevitably want to brood with a smoke and a cup of coffee.

You took a quick shower, slid into your pyjamas, and decided to make use of the cigarette. You wandered to one of the secluded corners of the dorm, where you could lean out of the window and contemplate life with a fag and a cup of tea instead.

You were deep in thought, analysing everything Hale had said to you that evening when a quiet, deliberate grunt startled you.

“I don’t think such behaviour is legal here, Mr. Burr,” came a dry voice. Viktor appeared out of nowhere, leaning casually against the windowsill where you were curled up.

You let out a sharp breath, your hand instinctively going to your chest. "Jesus, you made my soul leave my body for a moment."

Viktor's lips curved into a small, amused smirk. "Ah, it means you know exactly that you are doing a bad thing." His hand extended, reaching out to steal a huff of your smoke.

You rolled your eyes, leaning back against the window. "Please give me a break, I’ve been a good girl all this time." You couldn’t help yourself and gave him an exaggerated eyelash bat as you passed the cigarette to him.

Viktor’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, then he tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. "Have you?" he asked, making sure your eyes were fixed on his lips curling around the cigarette filter.

He paused to inhale, his voice lowering slightly. "Been a good girl?" And exhaled the smoke into your face.

You felt a weird lump forming in your throat, your fingers tightening around your cup of tea. You knew Viktor was pushing your buttons, but part of you couldn’t help but enjoy it—though you weren’t about to admit that out loud.

"I mean, I try," you replied, your voice casual, even though your pulse had quickened slightly.

Viktor remained silent for a moment, studying you carefully, the playful smirk still lingering at the edges of his lips. "Hmm," he said finally, a thoughtful tone in his voice, as he passed the cigarette back to you, your fingers brushing. "Trying doesn’t always mean succeeding."

You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling your defences rise. "And who’s to say what’s a success or not?" The implication made you uneasy. Or excited, all the same. Your chest tightened, and you straightened up a little, leaning slightly away from him, as if the tiny bit of distance between you could somehow shield you.

"Someone who’s been paying attention," Viktor replied softly, his gaze never leaving yours. His voice was smooth, almost coaxing, and his posture remained relaxed, leaning casually against the windowsill. His eyes glinted, knowing he was starting to get under your skin—just as you were getting under his. Especially after today, when he had seen you in a completely different light.

“Well, it doesn’t really matter if I am a good girl or not, as now you have joined me in my crime, and we can share a cell when they come for us.” You let out a quiet laugh to cover the discomfort taking over you.

"Oh, I will deny everything." Viktor's lips curled into a smirk, the playful gleam in his eyes not quite hiding the challenge behind them. He took a drag from the cigarette that was being passed between you, exhaling slowly, the smoke swirling between you like a silent declaration of intent.

"You’re good at that, aren’t you?" You raised an eyebrow, your tone teasing, but there was an edge to it now—more biting than before. You leaned back slightly, crossing your arms over your chest.

"And what are you getting at now?" Viktor's voice lowered just a touch, as he studied you with an expression that bordered on amusement and curiosity. His eyes never left your face, as though waiting for you to reveal something you didn’t even realise you were giving away.

"Ah, nothing, Viktor. Thank you for that test." You waved a hand dismissively, sliding off the window ledge, ready to flee. Your pulse quickened. It wasn’t just the words—they were playing a game, and you weren’t sure if you were prepared for it. Your stomach fluttered at the thought.

"I see. You have looked through me and now you can read me like an open book?" Viktor's expression shifted slightly—there was a challenge in his voice, but also something else, almost a hint of fear that he quickly masked with another drag of the cigarette.

"Precisely," you replied, your voice smooth, but a little more breathless than you meant. Your fingers tightened around your cup of tea, the warmth of it grounding you, even as Viktor’s presence seemed to fill the space around you. You wanted to stand your ground, but his proximity was starting to unsettle you in ways you didn’t expect.

There was a beat of silence between you. Viktor took a step closer, watching you cautiously, his body language suddenly more intense. The playful edge in his voice was gone, replaced by something more serious.

You felt your heart rate spike. "What’s that look for?" you asked, half-expecting him to keep pushing, to keep testing you.

Viktor tilted his head slightly, lowering his gaze as if studying your every movement. "You think you have me figured out, don’t you?" His tone was a bit quieter now, almost thoughtful. You knew nothing.

"Maybe," you said, your voice faltering for a brief moment as you tried to regain control of the conversation. Your eyes flickered to the ground, then back up to him, a challenge sparking in your gaze. "But I’m starting to think that’s part of your charm. Always keeping people guessing. It’s exhausting, though." You tried to sound nonchalant, but even you could hear the tension in your voice.

Viktor didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned in just a fraction closer, the tension between you growing thicker. He took a long drag from the cigarette before exhaling toward you, the smoke swirling lazily around you both.

"Maybe you’re starting to enjoy the challenge," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, a subtle yet deliberate provocation laced into his tone. “I didn’t fix your paper. That was Heimerdinger’s decision,” he added, lying without a flicker of hesitation. At this point, it felt necessary.

Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard, your breath catching as you felt the weight of his gaze on you—sharp, unrelenting, and entirely too perceptive. "Maybe I am," you replied to his tease, your voice quieter than you intended. It trembled just slightly, betraying your unease. You weren’t sure when it had become so difficult to breathe. “And… um… that’s good to know.”

Viktor studied you for a long moment, his lips curling into a small, almost imperceptible smile. He didn’t say anything at first. Then, slowly, he took a step back, handing you the cigarette again. His fingers brushed lightly against yours as he passed it to you, the touch lingering for a split second longer than necessary. Your breath hitched, and your pulse quickened.

"I think you’re more like me than you care to admit, Y/N," Viktor said, his tone low and measured, his gaze steady and unyielding.

You stared at him, your mind racing, your heart thudding in your chest. For a moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. His words felt like a dare, a challenge you couldn’t ignore, even though part of you wanted to. "Don’t flatter yourself," you managed, your voice steadier now as you tried to recover your footing.

He chuckled softly, the sound laced with something serious rather than mocking. “I wasn’t trying to. But I think you might be right. We’ll see.” He turned, starting to walk away, only to pause and glance back over his shoulder. “Were you to decide there’s something you don’t know yet and need help—my office door is always open to you.”

You lingered for a moment, watching Viktor as he walked away, his steps steady and calm. You took a slow drag from the cigarette, letting the smoke fill your lungs before exhaling into the cool night air.

“Hey, Viktor?” you called out, your voice softer now, almost teasing.

He turned his head slightly, his profile outlined by the faint light from the hallway. “Yes?”

“Say hi to Mel’s friends from me next time you see them,” you said, a sly smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Viktor’s expression remained unreadable for a moment, his eyes narrowing just enough to signal he understood your jab. Then, without missing a beat, he replied, “Go to sleep, Y/N,” his voice low and quiet, but with enough bite to draw a small laugh from you. You shook your head, flicking the ash from the cigarette as you watched him leave.

Your thoughts lingered on him longer than you wanted to admit. Viktor, with his sharp words, his unreadable smirks, and the maddening way he seemed to see right through you. You closed your eyes briefly, exhaling one last trail of smoke before stubbing out the cigarette. “Go to sleep, Y/N,” you muttered under your breath, mimicking his accent. Your lips curved into a faint smile despite yourself. But sleep wouldn’t come easily tonight, you knew that much.

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x reader smut #viktor x f!reader #arcane #viktor smut #arcane fanfic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor x oc #viktor nation #the game of teaching body

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moljh · 1 year ago

Text

Can't Fix Him

Eddie Munson x Reader (fem)

Inspired by the prompt: 'I can't fix him but I can fuck him'

Fluff, smut, etc

The music was loud. You could feel the vibrations of the base coursing through your body before you had even entered the house. Tina's annual Halloween party was known for being the biggest and best thing in town on this night. She was lucky that her uncle worked in the mayor's office and had connections within the police department, otherwise you were sure the party would've been shut down from noise complaints. It was also a good thing that her lavish house was situated at the end of a sprawling drive, so as to keep the drunk teenagers away from the rest of the roaming children in the streets.

Coming to the front door, your friends didn't bother knocking on the door as it would have been pointless. Walking inside you were immediately hit with the abrasive smell of weed and alcohol in the air. You weren't shocked by the presence of either, but you were surprised at how despite the open back doors how strong the smell remained.

The four of you had your way over to the punch, where you each filled your cup and took a swig of the mystery liquid. A familiar burning flowed down your throat and warmth filled your stomach. It was just what you wanted on a cool night as this and especially after a brutal week at school.

"I'm going to see if I can find Simon" one of your friends declared, venturing off into the crowd to find the boy she had been seeing but refused to say it was officially considered dating

That left the three of you and soon the other two headed off to the bathroom together leaving you on your lonesome. You didn't mind it though, gave you a moment to survey the crowd and gather who was there. In the centre of it all were couples pressed against each other dancing along to the music, while their bodies became sweatier and sweatier.

Having the urge for a cigarette, you decided to do the right thing by Tina and headed out back for a smoke. Winding your way through the people filling the house, you managed to find a chair near the back of the house that wasn't too crowded. You could hear the chanting in the distance and someone was obviously winning some sort of drinking game and you made a mental note to head over that way afterwards to see what all the fuss was about.

Sitting down you began rummaging in your pocket for you pack of smokes and lighter.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath as you realised you had left your lighter in your bag at home

You sat there for a moment, disgruntled in the situation as the unlit cigarette hung from your lips sadly.

"Need some help there?" a voice behind you asked and you spun around to face who had spoken

From the shrouded darkness a few feet in front of you they stepped out like some sort of supervillain and into the light. They had something else between their lips but you could tell from the smell that it wasn't tobacco.

"What's Eddie Munson doing at Tina's party?" you asked smugly He chuckled at your question "How else are those basketball idiots meant to get high?" he retorted "Touché" you said, "can I get that light then?" you asked, gesturing to the still unlit cigarette "What do I get if I do?" Eddie sarcastically questioned back "You get to say for the first time that you made a girls night" you shot back

Leaning forward, he slowly extended his arm and used his lighter to light your cigarette. It was in that moment, as Eddie 'The Freak' Munson was so close to you, with only the dim light from the distance and his lighter that you noticed how handsome he actually was. Hidden underneath the bravado and mane of hair, was an attractive face.

"Definitely not the first time a girl has told me that" he cockily remarked, pulling away

The two of you remained there, content in the silence as he worked his way through the joint and you the cigarette.

"So I know why you came in the first place, but why have you stayed then?" you asked him, though he seemed confused by your question "I mean, I doubt anyone here is exactly welcoming to you" you tried to put in the best possible way, without outright saying that people hated him and thought he was a total freak "Well they're smoking my weed, I may as well drink their booze" "I mean, technically I think it's Rick's weed," you said, shooting him a knowing look "You got me there y/n" he replied and you were surprised he knew your name

You weren't sure how much time had passed, but as you came to the butt of your smoke, you dropped it to the ground and used the tip if your boot to stamp it out. Standing up you looked back to where a crowd was formed on the back lawn and noticed your friends at the edge keeping a watchful eye on you.

"Thanks for the light Munson," you said "Any time y/l/n" Eddie said as you walked away

It took you all of five seconds to walk across the lawn and back into the music and heat of everyone.

"Were you just talking to Eddie Munson?" your friends collectively asked as you rejoined the group "Yeah," you replied nonchalantly "and?" "He's such a freak though" Melanie remarked "He wasn't that bad, you know up close he's actually pretty good looking" "Actually if you look at old photos y/n's not wrong" Andrea chimed in "Yeah, just give it all a bit of a trim and fix him up a bit…" Taylor added "he mightn't be all that bad" "I mightn't be able to fix him in a night…" you began, thinking about what you were about to say next "but I might be able to fuck him"

The three of them let out a shocked gasp at your declaration. Each of you had your own conquests, but your interest in Eddie went against your usual type.

"Oh my god y/n, you can't be serious?" Andrea said Taylor laughed before she spoke "I think it's iconic really, you have to" "And then immediately tell us" Melanie added "I think I'm just tipsy enough that this seems like a good idea" you declared to your friends

You appreciated that they didn't judge you or run off to gossip about your idea. You gave them all a quick goodbye and brief hug before making you way back over to the edge of the house where you'd last seem Eddie.

He wasn't where you had left him all of five minutes ago, so you walked down the side of the house to see if he had made his way to the front. You stood there for a moment, clearly out of place standing by yourself looking around for him. You knew if it took you long enough to find him, you'd lose your confidence and back out of the impulsive decision you were making.

That's when a van pulled up in front of you and the window rolled down to reveal just the guy you'd been looking for.

"You alright?" he asked, seemingly with genuine concern "Feel like giving me a ride?" you softly asked "Sure," he said "jump in"

Getting inside the van you were grateful to see that it was far cleaner inside than expected. Hopping into the passenger seat you began giving Eddie vague directions towards your house, with little intention of actually taking him there. Driving along the bare backroads you began fiddling with your necklace, when you felt the clasp open and it slip from your neck.

"Oh shit," you muttered leaning forward, trying to locate it in the darkness "You right?" Eddie asked, still driving and keeping his eyes on the road "I just dropped my necklace…" you said "do you have a flashlight or something back there that I could use to find it?" "Umm…" he seemed to trail off in thought, trying to go through the van's inventory "there should be one, let me just pull over and check"

Stopping in a spot just off the road, he turned and looked haphazardly behind him for the flashlight, but with no success. Huffing, you undid your seatbelt and climbed over into the back to look for it. Although you were genuinely trying to locate it, you became more aware that Eddie was getting a nice view of your ass as your remained bent over in the back looking for the light.

"I have no clue where this thing is," you declared "can you help me?" "Oh um, yeah, sure…" he replied, "just give me a second"

You heard the ignition turn off and the van move as he climbed over the back to where you were. The two of you continued to look for a few more seconds until you sighed and turned around in supposed defeat.

"It might be a lost cause" you said, adjusting your seat and coincidentally moving closer to where Eddie was "I think so…" he replied, seemingly doing the same movement as you "so…" he awkwardly said, as if to avoid the silence "So what?" you innocently said, looking up at him with flirtatious eyes

You both sat there for a moment, leaning ever so slightly closer to the other, unsure who was going to make the first move. You slowly moved your hand from the floor of the van and along his denim covered thigh. He let out a slight moan at the action which signaled to you that he was happy with your decision.

Continuing the movement of your curious fingers, you grazed them up his firm chest and towards the back of his neck. You carefully ran your fingers through his curls and finally settled on his cheek.

"You're going to need to stop doing that" he gruffly said, shooting you a knowing look "Stop what?" you said with a wide-eyed innocence as if you truly didn't know what you were doing to him "you mean this?" you remarked, moving your other hand up and pausing at the cold clasp of his belt buckle "you want me to stop then?" "Well not know" he said

From there few words were spoken. Eddie wrapped his rough hand around the back of your neck and pulled you into him. His lips were soft and welcoming as he kissed you. You moved with him as he kissed you deeper and held you closer. Moving his hand into your hair he grasped the base of your hair tightly, causing you to let out a soft moan, seeing his chance he gently bit down on your bottom lip and slowly moved his mouth down your neck.

You needed to better position yourself, so you placed your hand flat against his chest and pulled back for a moment. He seemed surprised as you lifted your leg over him and proceeded to straddle him. This time you took charge, peppering kisses along his jaw and down his neck towards his exposed nape. Moving back up you lightly nipped his earlobe making him needily groan.

You could feel his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, and you helped him by pulling it off swiftly. His eyes expanded as he came face to face with your boobs within a bright red lace bra.

"Oh my god you're so gorgeous" he said, cupping your breasts and squeezing them slightly making you grin "This needs to come off now" you informed him referring to his shirt, which is quickly obliged

He didn't waste long removing your bra and throwing it across the van. He brought his lips to your nipples and ran his tongue around them, making you throw your head back in pleasure. Eddie continued this for a bit longer and you anticipated a hickey in the morning.

"My turn" you told him, pushing him down onto his back

He lay there still, as you inched slowly further down. Teasing him, you took your time with his belt, making his squirm as you could already see how hard he was underneath the constraints of the denim. Finally allowing him free, you pulled down his trousers and boxers with them to reveal his impressive length.

He was longer and girthier than you had anticipated, not insanely big but big enough to make you audibly gasp. Running your hand over it, you smirked as he let out a soft moan at your movements. Seductively looking up at him, you made eye contact as you ran your tongue from the base to the tip of his cock. You could feel him throbbing and he couldn't stop letting out moans of pleasure as you continued to wrap your mouth around him.

"Holy shit y/n, just like that" he gasped as you felt him hit the back of your throat and he grabbed ahold of your head and pushed you down further causing you to gag.

Coming back up for air, he looked at you with pure sex in his eyes and leant down, placing a soft kiss to your lips.

"Think it's your turn now," he whispered into your ear and suddenly flipped you over, so now he was on top of you

He pulled your own jeans down quickly and practically ripped your panties off when he came to them. You could feel that you were already wet at that thought of him and shuddered as he ran his fingers over your clit.

"You're so wet" he chuckled, slowly moving his fingers around, slipping one between your folds "Just for you" you muttered, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of him touching you You felt his hot breath against your ear as he said "what do you want me to do to you?"

His words made you squirm.

"I want you to fuck me until I can't walk" you said without even thinking "Oh that was a given sweetheart" was all he said before going down on you

His tongue moved with expertise. You'd never had someone move the way he did. Flicking his tongue over your clit he inserted two fingers inside of you and moved them in just the right way. Arching your back he pinned you down, preventing you from moving away from his mouth. It came over you before you could even realise and your body shook with pleasure against his tongue and around his fingers.

"I need you inside of me" you said, desperate to feel him

You could hear him rustling around for a moment and then come back to you, quickly putting a condom on. You were glad that he had come prepared because in the heat of it all you had completely forgot.

You gasped in pleasure as you felt him press the tip of his cock against your opening. You gripped his bare back and ran your nails down it. He held there for a second and then thrusted the rest of his length within you. You couldn't help but let out a cry as he filled you up completely.

"Are you ok?" he immediately asked upon hearing you "Yes!" you exclaimed, overcome with pleasure "keep going"

He began to thrust in and out of you, making you shuddering beneath him. As he moved you rotated your hips with him, causing him to moan as well. You stayed like that for a while, consumed within each other until his pace began to slow.

"Are you going to cum for me?" you asked, wanting him to say yes "I'm so close" he breathily said against your lips as he pulled you back in "Good" you said

He get pumping into you and suddenly quickened again, slamming into you making your walls tighten. Your breath began to shorten and you dug your fingers into his back again, as his breaths faltered too and you felt yourself approaching the edge once again. Eddie let out a few final moans and you felt yourself contract around him as you came simultaneously.

"Fuck" he gasped as he finally came and collapsed in exhaustion next to you "Wow" was all you said, staring up in disbelief at the ceiling of the van

You half expected him to get straight up and drive you home, but he rolled onto his side and pulled you towards him once again. Kissing you this time it felt less desperate and hungry, more sincere and soft.

"Is that how you expected tonight to go?" you asked, chuckling lightly "Let's just say I didn't think offering a light to y/n y/l/n would end up with me having the best sex of my life in the back of my van" he declared "Damn," you remarked "best sex of your life eh? Think I deserve a medal or something for that" "Trust me," Eddie said, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck once more "you can ask for more than just that"

#stranger things #y/n #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things eddie #eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #smut #stranger things smut #female reader #reader smut

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literaryvein-reblogs · 5 days ago

Note

hello, i was wondering if you had any information on mediums (like, able to communicate w ghosts)? thank you

Writing Notes: Medium

Medium - a person who appears to be able to talk to the dead or, more generally, appears to communicate with invisible intelligences or receive “energy” from other dimensions of reality (Barušs, 2003a, 2014a).

They are sometimes sought out by the bereaved as a way of trying to confirm the continuing existence of the deceased, so that mediumship also has relevance for the treatment of grief (Beischel, Mosher, & Boccuzzi, 2014–2015).

Medium - (in occultism) a person reputedly able to make contact with the world of spirits, especially while in a state of trance.

A spiritualist medium is the central figure during a séance and sometimes requires the assistance of an invisible go-between, or control.

During a séance, disembodied voices are said to speak, either directly or through the medium.

Materialization of a disembodied spirit or of a specific part of a human body can allegedly take shape from a mysterious, viscous substance called ectoplasm that exudes from the medium’s body and subsequently disappears by returning to its original source.

At times the medium, or a material object, appears to float in the air (levitation).

Trance - a state that is like being asleep except that you can move and respond to questions and commands like a person who is awake

Séance - French “sitting” (in occultism) meeting centred on a medium, who seeks to communicate with spirits of the dead.

Because strong light is said to hinder communication, a séance usually takes place in darkness or subdued light.

It generally involves 6 or 8 persons, who normally form a circle and hold hands.

Believers assert that communication has been established when a disembodied voice is heard, or a voice speaks through the medium, or a ghostly apparition appears.

Sometimes music of unknown source seems to fill the room, objects appear to move for unnatural reasons, or a hand, a limb, or an entire body may take shape from ectoplasm (a peculiar viscous substance said to issue from the medium’s body).

Other alleged means of communication include automatic writing, trance speaking, or a ouija board or planchette.

Many of the seemingly mysterious phenomena manifested during séances are effected by the medium to validate his or her claim to supernatural powers.

That some spiritualists actually possess the ability to communicate with spirits, however, remains open to debate.

Dissociation, especially derealization or depersonalization, can readily be misconstrued as paranormal.

Example: Dissociation as an alternative hypothesis for the following:

After intense chanting, a medium enters a “trance” and is no longer aware of his surroundings (dissociation). He then communicates with a dead relative.

Good mediums can produce correct information, at least some of the time.

That is consistent with some cases of spontaneous and induced after-death communication.

But is that information coming from dead people? Could mediums, and others experiencing apparent after-death communication, just be good at picking up information from the living or from physical sources wherever the necessary information might be found?

The former explanation has been called the survival hypothesis, whereas the latter explanation has been called the super-psi hypothesis (Braude, 2003; see also P. F. Cunningham, 2012).

History of Spiritualism. Spiritualism is a collection of beliefs based on the claim that spirits or departed souls live in a realm beyond our material universe. In the 19th century, seances, ceremonies in which mediums communicated with the dead, became fashionable winter night parlor entertainment. Popular mediums would roam from city to city and amaze thousands with their astonishing communications with the departed. In the United States, in time spiritualism became a social movement that offered hope of an afterlife for those grieving the slaughter of the civil war and skeptical of a Christianity newly challenged by science, especially Darwin. Spiritualists fought against slavery (in the afterlife all are equal) and the movement provided women with a rare public role not unlike that enjoyed by male priests (mediums were female). This movement set the stage for current widespread interest in channeling, psychics, parapsychology, and faith healing. Organized scholarly research into the paranormal began with serious investigations of spiritualist claims.

Psychic vs. Medium

As an adjective, psychic means “of or relating to the human soul or mind,” or something mental as opposed to physical.

It’s also defined in psychology as “pertaining to or noting mental phenomena,” which describes being in tune to some nonphysical force or agency.

For example, Having heard that colors can provoke a psychic response, I decided to paint the room a calming blue.

Psychic can also mean “sensitive to influences or forces of a nonphysical or supernatural nature.”

So if someone or something is influenced by a mysterious force that’s outside physical science or knowledge, it’s a psychic influence.

For example, it was a psychic feeling that led him to run out of the building right before a fire started.

As an adjective, some synonyms for psychic are:

spiritual,

supernatural,

paranormal,

psychological, and

metaphysical.

As a noun, psychic refers to “a person who is sensitive to psychic influences or forces.”

For example, since she was a little girl, John’s grandmother has sworn she’s a psychic and can tell when something bad will happen.

In addition to medium, other synonyms for psychic as a noun include clairvoyant, fortune-teller, and prophet.

First recorded in 1855–60, psychic originates from the Greek word psȳchikós, meaning “of the soul.”

Types of Mediumship

In modern spiritualism, mediumship can be generally divided into 2 forms:

Physical mediumship generally involves anything happening of a physical nature that can be perceived by the medium and others present.

Mental mediumship involves communication from the spirit world which is interpreted through the mind and consciousness of the medium.

Examples: Famous Mediums

William Stainton Moses: Moses, a medium from the late nineteenth century, would hold séances during which psychic lights would appear. He also had experiences of levitation, and the appearance of scents like musk and freshly mown hay. Musical sounds would often be heard with no musical instruments in the room, as well as the materialization of luminous hands and pillars of light. Moses also produced a great number of automatic writings, including his most well known scripts, Spirit Teachings (1883) and Spirit Identity (1879).

Fransisco (Chico) Xavier: Born in 1910, Xavier was a famous Brazilian medium, often appearing on television. He produced his first automatic writing in grade school, where he claimed that an essay was given to him by a spirit. He went on to amass an enormous number of automatic writing scripts in various scientific and literary disciplines, and is one of the world's most prolific automatic writers.

Daniel Dunglas Home: Home was one of the most well-known mediums of the nineteenth century. Scottish born, he performed a number of séances for royalty and other well-respected people. He was most famous for his levitations, one of which took place outside a third story window. Though many, including Houdini accused Home of trickery, he was never once exposed as a fraud.

Psychologist Terence Hines, in his book Pseudoscience and the Paranormal:

Modern spiritualists and psychics keep detailed files on their victims. As might be expected, these files can be very valuable and are often passed on from one medium or psychic to another when one retires or dies. Even if a psychic doesn't use a private detective or have immediate access to driver's license records and such, there is still a very powerful technique that will allow the psychic to convince people that the psychic knows all about them, their problems, and their deep personal secrets, fears, and desires. The technique is called cold reading and is probably as old as charlatanism itself... If John Edward (or any of the other self-proclaimed speakers with the dead) really could communicate with the dead, it would be a trivial matter to prove it. All that would be necessary would be for him to contact any of the thousands of missing persons who are presumed dead—famous (e.g., Jimmy Hoffa, Judge Crater) or otherwise—and correctly report where the body is. Of course, this is never done. All we get, instead, are platitudes to the effect that Aunt Millie, who liked green plates, is happy on the other side.

Some Related Character Tropes

I See Dead People: Mediums are a special category of psychic; people with a sixth sense that allows them to see, hear and/or touch ghosts for better or for worse.

Magnetic Medium: Psychics tend to attract things only they can perceive. Whether they're unknowingly sending out psychic signals or just bad luck is anyone's guess.

Unhappy Medium: Having psychic powers can suck.

Examples

Dante in Coco can see the spirits of dead relatives and interact with them, because he's an alebrije. Miguel temporarily gains this when he steals Ernesto de la Cruz's guitar, causing him to cross over to the spirit realm.

A big part of the classic Charles Dickens tale A Christmas Carol, wherein Ebenezer Scrooge is visited by the ghost of his old partner, Jacob Marley, heralding the coming of the three spirits of Christmas Past, Christmas Present, and Christmas Future, "yet to come".

Cassandra from Classical Mythology, though not at first. The curse was separate from the prophesy part — she got prophesy as a blessing from Apollo, then pissed him off, so he added on a curse that she'd never be believed.

Everything Everywhere All at Once: Jobu Tabaki can see all possible outcomes of every action because she is present in all her alternate selves simultaneously. This has driven her to total nihilism and a desire to destroy the entire universe just to make it stop.

In The Sixth Sense, Cole Sear is frequently harassed by the spirits of the dead, whom only he can see and hear (and get mauled by, occasionally). Since he's only about ten years old, he is understandably freaked out by this.

The X-Files: Seeing ghosts is the X-file of the episode "Elegy". People report seeing wounded women who seemed silently asking for help in strange places where they had actually never appeared when alive. They always brought the ominous message "s/he is me". It turns out the apparitions happened very close to the moment of their death and only people who were close to death themselves could see them.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Hope this helps with your writing!

#anonymous #writing reference #writeblr #dark academia #literature #spilled ink #creative writing #character development #writing prompt #writing notes #character building #character inspiration #writers on tumblr #light academia #writing inspiration #writing resources

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the-monkeies-girl · 8 months ago

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51 with caesar?

51. Slow Dancing. Song. "Wait here." Caesar told you, sauntering himself into the actual gas station itself as you were left to relish in the remnants of humanity.

The smile on your face was... Different than anything that Caesar had seen from you and it was hard to pull away. He tried to recollect moments of the past, finding it difficult to pinpoint as you were swept away by the sound of music. Not rhythmic or chanting like the banging the Colony supplied during supple ceremonies, a way to entrance delight and delectation, but... Actual... Music.

Tears bristled around the corner of your eyes as you were unable to look away from the '76' of the gas station. Malcolm and crew were able to successfully get the power back on, something Caesar knew you would not believe until you actually saw it with your own eyes, up close. Caesar was rather well versed in music, his eyes watching through the shattered window as you drifted forwards a bit, your feet pressing into the ground with every beat that was made through the dim speaker. Loud enough to be enjoyed for at least a mile wide radius. He knew what Will, Caroline and Charles enjoyed and given the time to reflect, he would choose Charles' classic music over anything else. And luckily for the King of Apes, there was a CD just for that in the abandoned gas station, along with another pile of more rock, pop and even some disco. Things he did not enjoy himself, but knew that Will and Caroline did. "Have you heard anything so beautiful before?" You whispered quietly, your eyes flashing like neon as Caesar finally emerged from the building. "I--- I haven't heard music like this in so long, I al-almost forgot what it sounded like." Your voice drew into a gasp as you hummed to the familiar tune. Clair de Lune. It was like you were sifting in a dream, your feet felt suddenly weightless as you pressed yourself against your mate, letting your forehead rest against his own for only a moment, Caesar bracing himself for a split second upon the impact you gave him before his green eyes slid shut and he accepted the form of affection without a word. There was nothing that he needed to say.

He did this for you - having stayed behind once Malcolm and the other Humans departed, finding the right CD, admittedly getting angry a few times as he tried to figure the actual device out, and then set back home to tell you and to return the next evening.

You were beautiful, he thought to himself, knowledge that was always there but was never at the forefront until he was alone with you. Instead of your usual motion to reach up and cup the sides of his face to bring him in closer, Caesar felt your arms tangle around his neck and you were suddenly flush against him, chest to chest. He could feel the rapid nature of his own heart sitting against yours as if they were playing time to the piano notes drifting around the two of you.

Mimicking your actions, Caesar hoisted you against him by positioning his arms around your waist, holding onto you by the small of your back and controlling your entire being, which you were more than willing to relinquish. The gasp you gave him at his touch made him wish the music would stop right then and there so he could just listen to you breathing instead, but as you placed your head into the crook of his neck, admiring the always present musk, conifer and river that dance from his scent alone, he digressed. "Don't suppose you know how to slow dance." You joked quietly, getting a mouth full of his fur without worry as you adjusted your head to look at the side of his face. While still intimidating and large, his features did soften just a touch at your words, feeling a slight movement of swaying.

"Raise... by Humans." He muttered, letting himself fall into your hair and take in the smell that was so familiar to him know that he occasionally took advantage of its blossoming fragrance when he was busy, "Do know..." You chuckled at that, eyes sliding shut as he rocked your bodies back in forth, nuzzling a bit further into his neck. Tears began falling from your closed eyelids, down the scape of your face and to get trapped against his fur, "Do Chimps not know how to keep rhythm?" Caesar felt a chortle hit the back of his throat, "Not very... well." "Good enough for me."

#caesar #caesar x reader #pota #planet of the apes #caesar pota #planet of the apes x reader #emmy writes #i am a soft bitch at HEART #fanfiction #fanfic

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khaylin27 · 6 months ago

Text

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

pairing: lewis hamilton x popstar! reader

series: the tortured poets department

synopsis: popstar y/n l/n performs for the first time after her and lewis hamilton split due to 'differences'

warnings: not proofread 🙃 but none

author's note: IM SO SORRY I HAVEN'T POSTED IN A WHILE 😭 I've been dealing with my physical and mental health the past couple of months that I haven't been motivated to write. I've also been busy with college because I'm almost done. Hope y'all enjoy this!

I can read your mind

"She's having the time of her life"

There in her glittering prime

The lights refract sequined stars off her silhouette every night

I can show you lies (one, two, three, four)

yn_nation The lights refract sequined stars off her silhouette every night #WarsawYNTheErasTour 🩷✨See you in less than a fortnight! 🤍 #LondonYNTheErasTour

user1 THE QUEEN IS BACK IN LONDON OMG

user2 you know who also is from London 👀

user3 you think lewis would still go to her show even though they broke up? user4 we can only hope 😭🙏

'Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle it

They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and I did

Lights, camera, and smile, even when you wanna die

He said he'd love me all his life

It was the first of many nights performing in London. London meant so much to you. You and Lewis fell in love and made a whole life here. You really thought he was the one after six years of being together. It wasn't until Lewis decided to break up explaining that there were 'differences' in your relationship.

"I can't do this guys." You were having a breakdown in your changing room before the show. Oscar's wife and Alexandra were in the room trying to calm you down before the show.

Alexandra soothes you while you cry and Oscar's wife had enough of it. It was probably due to the pregnancy hormones. "I love you Y/N but I know you're a real tough kid, you can handle it."

You wipe your tears and look up at her, "When I went through everything with Carlos you told me 'babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it' and that's what I did. I never got to thank you back then but I do now." Oscar's wife smiles thinking about the time Y/N encouraged her to go watch Lando race after the whole failed wedding with Carlos. If Oscar's wife didn't listen to Y/N back then she wouldn't have met Oscar and become his wife.

"Now I'm going to do the same for you. You can handle this Y/N, I've seen you through worse." Throughout your music career, many people have tried to ruin your reputation. "I know Lewis said he'd love you all his life but that's over now. Of course, it's a lot to go through but there are millions of people out there that love you."

Your conversation was interrupted by Charles and Oscar. They could see you three were going through an emotional situation. "Uhm the lady with the headset is yelling at us to tell you it's almost show time," Oscar says as quickly as possible then closes the door.

The three of you laugh at the awkward Australian, "That's my husband." Oscar's wife says with a smile.

"You can do this Y/N," Alexandra smiles as well.

As you three stand up, you give a hug to the both of them. "Thank you guys for being here. I don't know what I would do without you." You smile and pull away. "It's time to get on stage."

"We believe in you Y/N," Alexandra says before you leave to stand on the elevating platform.

You take deep breaths before the platform elevates to the main stage. As it's elevating you tell yourself, "Lights, camera, and smile. Even if you wanna die."

But that life was too short

Breaking down, I hit the floor

All the pieces of me shattered as the crowd was chanting, "More"

It was that segment of the concert where you would perform surprise songs to the audience.

"For one of my surprise songs tonight, I just wanted to share the story behind what I'm about to play next." You say starting to play the piano.

"London is a city I'll always love. I met the love of my life or so I thought." You were trying to hold back tears from the crowd. "That life was too short though." You smile through the tears. "I hope you like this song."

"But do you remember? Remember when I pulled up and said 'Get in the car' and then canceled my plans just in case you'd call?" You remember the times you would wait outside of Mercedes headquarters in your car to ask Lewis to spend time with you. But he didn't want to. You would cancel plans frequently just in case Lewis called. "Back when I was livin' for the hope of it all, for the hope of it all. 'Meet me behind the mall."

"So much for summer love and saying 'us.' Cause you weren't mine to lose." You were breaking down in tears singing this song. Remembering all the pieces of your relationship with Lewis shattered because there were 'differences' in your relationship.

As you continue playing the chords to August while crying, the crowd is chanting "More!"

I was grinnin' like I'm winnin'

I was hittin' my marks

'Cause I can do it with a broken heart

You looked up and grinned at the crowd. You realized that even though you lost the love of your life, it didn't matter anymore. Tons of people loved you for who you are. You were winning in life no matter what.

"It's new, the shape of your body. It's blue, the feeling I've got and it's ooh, whoa, oh. It's a Cruel Summer." The crowd goes wild at the mashup with August and Cruel Summer.

While you were hittin' all the marks to the song you realize that you could do it with a broken heart.

I'm so depressed, I act like it's my birthday every day

yn_nation #LondonYNTheErasTour I'm so depressed, I act like it's my birthday every day! 🩶 Y/N is back for five more dazzling #YNTheErasTour nights! 🤩

user1 SHE REALLY CAN DO IT WITH A BROKEN HEART

user2 it's amazing how y/n can put on a show every night while dealing with a breakup

user3 god chooses his strongest soldiers for battle 🫡

user4 did y'all see that the whole f1 grid + wags were at the show tonight? also, did you see LEWIS HAMILTON there too?

user6 WHAT!? user7 I wonder how that's going to turn out.

I'm so obsessed with him, but he avoids me like the plague

It was the F1 summer break and you decided to invite the whole grid to your last show in London. You were still close to the drivers and their wags to this day so they all said yes. What you didn't expect was your ex-boyfriend being here.

Everyone came to your room to greet you before the show started. It was almost time to start the concert but you were hoping Lewis would come by to say hi to you. You were still obsessed with him. Like Gwen Stefani said 'I'm just a girl."

"Did he come in here?" George's fiancé asks you. She knew the answer when you didn't respond.

"He's avoiding you like the plague." George scoffs and his fiancé turns around to side eye him for that comment.

You laugh at the couple for being themselves. "I really needed this laugh." You say as you get up from your chair. "I'm ready now."

Before you leave the room, you give George and his fiancé a hug. "Thanks for being here. I love and appreciate you two."

I cry a lot, but I am so productive, it's an art

"Hasn't it been an amazing week London!?" You smile as the crowd cheers for you. "It was for you guys but it was a rollercoaster of emotions for me." You laugh at your little joke. "You guys have probably seen me cry a lot the past couple of days, but I am so productive!" The crowd laughs and cheers. "It's an art!"

You start playing the piano, "I just want to say a special thank you to this city. It's a city I love so much. It has a lot of good and bad memories but you guys overrule those bad memories."

As the crowd cheers you start to explain your surprise song, "To conclude the last night of the London Eras Tour, I want to play a song or two for you guys. It might be sad at first like how I was at the beginning of the week but it gets light-hearted at the end."

You start playing the melody to So Long, London, and the whole crowd cheers. "I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist. I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift. Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away."

"My spine split from carrying us up the hill. Wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill. I stopped trying to make him laugh. Stopped trying to drill the safe." You watch the crowd and the grid sing along.

"Thinkin', how much sad did you think I had. Did you think I had in me? Oh, the tragedy." You look at the VIP tent and see Lewis. "So Long, London. You'll find someone."

The melody on the piano transitions to London Boy and the crowd goes wild. "Who enjoys walking Camden Market in the afternoon. You'll love her American smile. Like a child when your eyes meet, darling, I fancied you."

"Take her back to Highgate, she'll meet all of your best mates. So I guess all the rumors are true. You know I loved a London boy. But I'll say so long to you." As the melody fades out, the crowds cheer. You smile back at them and then look back at Lewis.

Saying so long to Lewis is hard but having the support of friends and fans made you realize that they were all you needed.

You know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart

yn_nation SO LONG, LONDON #LondonYNTheErasTour it's been an amazing week here in London. Thank you so much London fans for the good memories 🥹🤍✨

user1 you know you're good when you can PERFORM FOR A WHOLE WEEK IN FRONT OF A CROWD with a broken heart 😭

user2 the so long, london x london boy mashup 😭💔 it was basically a goodbye letter to lewis

user3 lewis was there too 🥲

tagged: @omgsuperstarg @splaterparty0-0 @2pagenumb @c-losur3

#f1 #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #mercedes amg petronas #lh44 #lh44 x reader #lh44 imagine #team lh44

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caviarsonoro · 2 months ago

Video

youtube

Arvo Pärt: Für Lennart In Memoriam (In Principio 2009)

Für Lennart in memoriam is a composition for string orchestra written by Arvo Pärt in 2006, at the request of former Estonian President Lennart Meri, who wished for Pärt's music to be performed at his funeral.

The piece premiered on March 26, 2006, at St. Charles Church in Tallinn, performed by the Tallinn Chamber Orchestra under the direction of Tõnu Kaljuste, during Meri's funeral ceremonies.

Musically, the work reflects Pärt's characteristic style, known as "tintinnabuli," distinguished by its simplicity and spiritual depth. The composition, approximately seven minutes in length, evokes a solemn and contemplative atmosphere, perfectly suited to the occasion for which it was conceived. The relationship between Pärt and Meri dates back to their youth when both worked at Estonian Radio in the 1960s—Pärt in the music department and Meri in radio theater.

This personal connection adds a layer of emotional depth to the piece, which has been praised for its beauty and its ability to convey feelings of mourning and reflection. For those who wish to experience this composition, it is available on the album In Principio, performed by the Tallinn Chamber Orchestra under Tõnu Kaljuste’s baton.

"Für Lennart in Memoriam," composed by Arvo Pärt, is a work that captures the essence of the composer’s tintinnabuli style, characterized by structural simplicity that conceals profound emotional depth. The piece, written for string orchestra, lasts approximately seven minutes. Although seemingly simple, its structure is meticulously crafted to evoke solemnity, introspection, and a sense of transcendence—elements well-suited to its funeral context.

The composition begins with a homogeneous texture and a calm character, where the lower strings establish a solemn and meditative tone. This introduction creates an atmosphere of gravity and reflection, with long notes that resonate in a wide sonic space, allowing each chord to breathe and settle in the listener. The harmonic construction follows a minimalist scheme, with melodic lines that emerge and fade gradually, reflecting the influence of Gregorian chant on Pärt's musical language.

As the piece progresses, the higher strings engage in a dialogue with the lower voices, creating a contrast between depth and clarity. This interplay develops into an emotional crescendo that never becomes dramatic but hints at a spiritual climax. The tension is built through the layering of simple melodic patterns and the use of carefully controlled dynamics, adding a level of restrained but deeply moving expressiveness.

The work concludes with a descent into silence, returning to the initial stillness and leaving the listener in a state of reflection. This circular resolution reinforces the idea of eternity and farewell—central themes in Pärt's music and particularly in this composition, dedicated to Lennart Meri.

#youtube #Lennart Meri.#tallinn chamber orchestra #tõnu kaljuste #arvo pärt #tintinnabuli #in principio

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tireddovahkiin · 1 month ago

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IM SORRY guys, if you'll excuse me, I need to rant my heart out about my sweetheart bc I'm just so obsessed with his whole concept and existence as a whole character and omfg I love this man SO much.

With THAT said-

youtube

Let me introduce you to soundtrack that plays upon witnessing Sephiroths new form for the first time. AKA, as said in OG FF7, Bizarro Sephiroth.

OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD.

(if you plan on listening it (PLEASE DO I BEG OF YOU), i recommend that you use headphones.)

It's starts so quietly, then it errupts into a whole triumphant-like symphony of instruments and voices, then quiets down again, into something more demonic, maybe. It's sounds out of this world, makes your skin errupt in goosebumps in both dread and awe. It REMINDS us of an angel, of something sacred, heavenly, and yet, far from such pure being. This song is a FLAWED type or ethereal.

It's supposed to trick us, into thinking, what really HAS he become? Alien? Angel? God? Spirit? Something else entirely? A mix of all those? We don't know. And THAT'S what's fucking amazing and terrifying.

Notice how the harmony is different than the usual, 'angelic' one? Now, I'm no musician or professional at that department, BUT, what I did notice, is that in order to depict something heavenly, composers use 'diatonic harmony', the harmonization of a piece of music using chords derived from the diatonic scale of a particular key.

But, what THIS melody uses, is a 'non-diatonic harmony': which is similar to diatonic harmony, when it come to the central scale of a song, but brings other notes from different scales outside of that main scale and can create tension within the overall structure of the song.

As one of descriptions of Bizarro Sephiroth say, he is "a resurrected being who now wields unimaginable might and commands the arbiters of fate. He seeks to pierce through the layers of existence, and reunite fragmented space-time. He shall rule over the planet and create eternity."

He DOES have a few attributes of an angel, but his overall form is described as 'grotesque'. A mutation of limbs, two heads, faces, pair of multiple wings, and the rest unknown. It is said that all those limbs even act independently of one another. It's origins are known to come from JENOVA, an extraterrestrial life-form from outer space, a calamity from the skies, who acts like a parasitic organism in nature. His beloved "mother". Main antagonist of the game.

His whole form is just... Colossal, which again, this song depicts PERFECTLY. You feel intimidated. But you're unsure, whether if it's positive or negative. If you should be scared for your life, or stop to gawk at whatever has appeared before you. We can recognize that it's Sephiroth, but BARELY. (Imagining you're in Clouds pants for a moment lmao)

Also, notice how his usual motives in songs that we hear in the game are COMPLETELY gone? Like, it's an ENTIRELY NEW THEME for him. No lyrics, the usual, "ESTUANS INTERIUS IRA VEHEMENTI!" or even the choir chanting his name. I don't think there's not even JENOVAS melody present. NONE of that is present. They just literally sing something original, unknown, I think it's latin? It would be even BETTER if it's not, aka if it's actual gibberish, an invented language.

And all those small effects in the background, makes it all the more creepier in a way. Because, we're not even certain if Sephiroth is himself or someone new entirely, since he evolved. (WHO'S THAT POKEMO- im joking Sephy please don't kill me PLE-)

(STOP he's so fucking beautiful...)

Perhaps he has become somehow independent of his mothers influence, that greed for power has gotten to him, got him blinded. Now he just wants to spread havoc for his own PERSONAL fulfilment and joy.

Imagine that YOUR fate is in hands of THIS motherfucker, at his complete mercy.

Not really the most reassuring feeling, now, is it, when you look at him. (speaking for YALLS behalf I love this form so much it's so underrated goddamn i would gladly sell my soul and give my fate to him i mean what who said that)

id like to kiss and hug him :3

Jokes aside, THIS SONG AWAKENS THE NASTIEST GOOSEBUMPS I'VE EVER GOTTEN IN MY LIFE EVERY DAMN TIME I LISTEN TO IT, NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES I'VE PLAYED IT.

It legit makes PRIDE bloom inside my heart, even if it's NOT MY theme, LOL XD. It's just that powerful. I start smiling from ear to ear, close my eyes, soak in this whole experience of a song. Pity that is so short, I wish it was longer.

Square Enix, the company you are. You fucking deserve that award for the best game soundtrack of the year.

Because, god damn. I ascend to heaven when I listen to this.

IM SO IMPATIENT... When will they upload Rebirth soundtrack on Spotify I need it it's not normal😭

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girlactionfigure · 1 year ago

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Know Thine enemy

I am not a Jew and I’m not a citizen of Israel. I haven’t even visited Israel. I don’t trace my religion back to a holy site in Jerusalem and I don’t have a problem with Arabs or Muslims or Christians. I’ve read about Abraham, Moses, David and Solomon; the Umayyads, the Abbasids and the Ottomans; I know about the British, the Balfour declaration, Ben Gurion and Golda Meir. I know a bit about the Six-Day War and the Intifada. I might not have any personal stake in the Holy Land, but humanity certainly does - and I’m a human being.

The women, men, children, elderly people and soldiers who were kidnapped, tortured, raped, humiliated and murdered on Saturday by Hamas in sovereign Israel were human beings too.

Those who did it to them are not.

Imagine what kind of rational and ethical gymnastics you have to do to justify the cold-blooded murder of teenagers at a music festival; or watching a child, perhaps 5 years old, being prodded with a stick and made to cry for his mother in Hebrew while children of a similar age laugh and mock him? We don’t know that child’s fate and for all we know what followed may have been much worse. It’s depraved. To even enter a conversation about these disgraceful facts with a rehearsed retort about territory or Gaza being an “open-air prison” reeks of moral bankruptcy.

If you wail and scream about your land, dignity, rights, oppression and poverty but are willing to murder, rape, kidnap, torture or humiliate children; then I don’t have to listen to your reasons. When the video footage, photographs and stories of Saturday’s carnage come not from "Israeli propaganda” but from the Hamas terrorists themselves, then how am I to read anything else into it but that you want credit for these atrocities? You want me to know you did it. You want me to know you are proud of it. You want me to see you for who you are. Well, I do.

So, if you swarmed the Israeli Embassy in London, waving Palestinian flags and calling for genocide; if you went down to Times Square to celebrate a victory for decolonisation against “apartheid Israel”; if you sang along to “gas the Jews” chants at the Sydney Opera House or hung a “one settler, one bullet” Palestinian flag over Grayston bridge in Johannesburg then you’re telling me who you are. Well, I see you - and you’re my enemy.

I’m one of those people who believe civilisation is a real thing, and I’ve resisted the poison of moral relativists in the humanities departments of universities across the west who think that being nuanced about the idea of civilisation versus barbarism is a signal of intellectual prowess or critical self-reflection. Upon even a cursory investigation of these people or their positions, you will find every sign of pedestrian intelligence and self-absorbed navel-gazing, combined with a fetishisation of victimhood and always concomitant humourlessness. They too, are my enemies.

It is always interesting to note that only western liberal democracies tolerate and give succour to the most heinous arguments and positions in public protests. You couldn’t picket on the side of quite laudable things like education for girls in Taliban Afghanistan, gay rights in Syria, or against the death penalty in Saudi Arabia. The Ayatollahs of Iran wouldn’t allow women to protest the hijab there under threats of violence. But London, New York, Sydney and even Johannesburg will embrace marches where people actively call for genocide. This is not how allies behave.

Perhaps when the dust has settled we can examine the insidious links between Anglo-American leftism and antisemitism, between Europe never reckoning with what happened in the holocaust and their growing Muslim populations, and between ignorant regimes like mine in South Africa and their determination to stand alongside the worst human-rights abusers in the Middle East.

For now, it’s no big mystery that this has nothing to do with the existence of the State of Israel and everything to do with Jew-hatred - that great, festering wound in the side of humanity from which all prejudice flows. It has been there for thousands of years and every time we think it has healed, some monstrous collective claws it open again.

Hamas aren’t hiding the ball. Their leader, Ismail Haniyeh, safely skulking in Qatar, made this clear. He celebrated dead Jews, not territory won, nor Gazan lives saved.

I’m afraid there are only two sides in a war - your allies and your enemies. On September 11th, 2001, I knew whose side I was on. I feel the same today.

Gareth

Gareth Cliff

#Israel #AmYisraelChai

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lua-magic · 7 months ago

Text

New Moon and ancestral blessing (Aug 4, 2024).

Coming new moon on Aug 4, 2024 is known as 'Adi Amavasya' and is the time when ancestral realm is open.

You can use this opportunity as to seek the blessings of the ancestors and departed soul to progress in life.

You should and must perform rites and rituals to satisfy the soul of your ancestors, irrespective of the cast, religions and place you belong to.

Whichever, religion you follow, make sure according to it you perform rituals to offer peace to your ancestors.

Those, who are into vedic astrology and occult(Tantra) knows that if the souls of the ancestral are not happy and satisfied with your family or lineage it comes to you as "Pitri dosh" which creates lot of problems and obstacles in your life and also to the coming generation.

If you read old texts and testimonials and look into ancient civilization, people used to respect the departed souls and continuously used to seek blessings and protection from it..

YAncestral curse, causes you problems related to Saturn, Rahu and ketu ie vedic astrology gives so much emphasis on connecting to your roots.

Simple ways through which you can connect to your ancestors on this coming new moon is

Do the rituals mentioned in your holy scriptures.

Go to any religious and sacred place and offer prayer for their peace and donate in the name of your ancestors.

If you can't visit temple, or you are not religious or even if you are not sure about your ancestors then make a sacred corner in your house, sit their and ask forgiveness from your ancestors and ask them to protect you from any trouble or obstacles you are facing in life , listen to some healing music and meditate for 10 to 15 min at night time...

You must donate in the name of your ancestors, you can donate even small amount, some food, or even clothes to underprivileged.

You must feed birds and animals, especially, crows, dogs or cows ...

Chant pitru mantra, or ancestors mantra for 108/times..

#spirituality #astro observations #astrology #astro notes #astro community #vedic astrology #occult #vedic astro observations #vedic astro notes #vedic chart

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frankendykes-monster · 2 years ago

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Check their shoes and look for mud!” shouted one Atlanta police department officer to another. The sun was setting against a tree line growing greener daily due to recent balmy, spring-like weather in Atlanta, but the bucolic setting of a Sunday in the sun at a free music festival abruptly became panic and chaos. Dozens of law enforcement officers, many with automatic weapons, swarmed into a forest of hundreds of acres, seeking to find any of the 200 or so activists who had set fire to a bulldozer, trailer and other infrastructure used for construction on “Cop City”, a $90m, 85-acre police and fire department training center, about an hour earlier. The clash was just the latest dramatic chapter to hit the Cop City project, which has already seen one environmental activist shot dead by police – the first incident of its kind in the US – and drawn national and international attention to the fight to save the Georgia forest where the giant project is planned. The one officer’s frenzied order about dirty footwear seemed as absurd as any part of the Sunday night operation, since Georgia rains had left muddy patches all over the forest, and at least 600 people were lying on the grass, or camped among the trees, or entering the forest to catch an evening’s music under the stars or leaving – thus many had mud on their shoes. But such was the situation on Sunday night, on the second night of the fifth “week of action” by activists over the last year dedicated to protecting the land called South River forest on municipal maps and Weelaunee forest by activists – using the Muscogee (Creek) word for “brown water”. The scene included police running through trees, arresting a legal observer from the National Lawyers Guild, sending a negotiator to agree on terms with five randomly chosen individuals for letting about a hundred music festival audience members safely leave the forest, and detaining journalists for questioning on “what they were there to cover”. The first two days had included free music, herbal workshops and a peaceful march through neighborhoods surrounding the forest south-east of Atlanta. Then, around 5.30 on Sunday evening, about 200 activists, most in balaclavas and camouflage clothing, began lining up to the right of the stage. They marched around three sides of the audience, chanting “Viva Tortuguita” – a reference to Manuel Paez Terán, a 26-year-old activist who was camping several hundred feet away from that spot on 18 January when police shot and killed him in another raid. It was the first time police killed an environmental activist while protesting in US history. Authorities said that Paez Terán fired first. After several hours of chaos on Sunday night, 23 people – including a legal observer with the National Lawyers Guild – had been arrested and charged with “domestic terrorism” under state law, adding to the 18 defendants facing the same unprecedented charges who have been arrested in recent months.

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circinuus · 2 years ago

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アイドル !!

I messed around with the singer au! Chuuya bot and I had an epiphany. A rockstar! Chuuya with a (closeted fan) idol! reader.

Chuuya is a senior in the industry, and you're the newcomer of the year. Your debut was received very well, and your popularity exploded! Your first single (the song wasn't written by you, by the way. Your agency doesn't let idols write and release their own songs unless it's a solo project) was quick to climb the popularity chart.

Due to this, you're invited to perform at a huge joint concert with big artists in the region. Nervous? Absolutely! You're so high-strung by the pressure that you entered the wrong dressing room. And not just any dressing room, it's the Nakahara Chuuya's! The rock star you've been secretly adoring. Secretly? Why? Well, you aren't ready to let everyone know about the multiple posters and vinyl in your room, and idols are not supposed to like rough music, right? Their love is supposed to be only reserved for their fans.

That was the plan.

Before you realize it, you're blabbering about how much of a fan you are, and how amazing of a lyricist he is. Surprised by your own vivacity, you bow in embarrassment and get ready to depart for your own performance, so that you don't bother his time longer. Instead, he said, "It's okay. Thank you very much for liking my music."

"No, thank you for the wonderful songs! I want to be able to write and perform good songs like you, one day," you replied

The backstage crew calls you for a briefing, and you bow down with a polite 'sorry' and 'see you!' as the Nakahara Chuuya mouths good luck.

Hours pass! Your performance—which came right after Chuuya's—evoked a strong positive reaction! The audience cheers and chants, "Encore!" You were very overwhelmed, you almost ran into the audio mixer on your way backstage. It didn't help that most of the other guest artists congratulates you on your debut in a huge regional concert—Chuuya included.

"Did you write that song?" he asked. And you said, "No, but I'd want to perform my own song, one day."

He raises a curious brow, "You've written one?" Then you answered with a sheepish, "Yes. But it's nothing nearly as good as yours."

Maybe the Nakahara Chuuya pitied how much of a mess you are. Or maybe he saw potential in your talent. Life in the showbiz business is tough, and you are much too excited. He ended up offering you some pointers if you're willing to accept them. Duh, stupid question. One thing leads to another, and turns out Chuuya makes a good friend! He told you about the bright and dim sides of the industry, offering you constructive criticisms for your demos, and even better, encouraging your confidence. Words are soon circulating in the agency that you are to have your own solo single project, one with a song you wrote yourself!

But things can't always be sunshine and rainbows, can't it?

The situation went downhill when a photo of you and Chuuya sitting in a cafe spread on the internet. The good rumors about your solo project are dampened by a nasty line plastered in gossip columns: "Hit Rock Star Nakahara Chuuya And Emerging Idol [Name Surname] Involved In A Scandal?!" Your agency and his label are having a hard time suppressing the media, and you can't stop blaming yourself as an idol, for burdening your idol. The stress of disappointing your fans doesn't make things better, despite those rumors not being true.

Things get quiet after around half a year, and you've cut all contact with the rock star Nakahara Chuuya. Your solo project has been released. It was well-received, although not as grandeur as your first debut in the industry. The most pleasant surprise was when you received a message from a contact you'd never opened for months. 'Congratulations on the release of your solo project. You've come a long way.' Nakahara Chuuya sent. You smiled at your phone and things went fine, until you find an inconspicuous stranger backstage. In the darkness, you can't make out his face nor the thing he is holding in his right hand...

hngg this needs more polishing but my brain is finally, frantically, braining again. oshi no ko fever is real you guys.

♡ @ashthemadwriter

#nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs au #bsd au

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baiwu-jinji-translations · 14 days ago

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The Sins of Lord Pei 裴公罪

Chapter 1. Prologue – Execution

In this world, everyone is destined to be an inmate of some kind of prison.

Some are oblivious to the imprisonment their entire lives; some are aware of their captivity from the start, but seek no remedy.

There’re even some who build such prisons with their own hands, laying the bricks and tiles tightly, leaving no gaps. They have never thought of occupying the place themselves and only intended to watch over the nefarious deeds of others; but after a lifetime of sins, they find themselves the only ones in deep dark cells behind iron bars.

The time is the end of the eighteenth year of Yuanguang (1).

It happened to be the downfall and imprisonment of Pei Jun, the villainous minister of the imperial court, along with his lackeys who had dominated the court for years. This shocking and spectacular show where the wise emperor rooted out evil court officials had only just ended on New Year’s Eve, and not all the accomplices outside the court had been brought to justice yet. But inside the court, servants were already busy covering the palace in decor of auspicious red.

Suede lanterns embroidered with golden threads were hung on the eaves of palaces. Where their dim yellow light was cast, the glaringly visible traces of blood across the corridors began to look fainter in the eyes of palace servants.

People in the palace had only one urgent business in mind, and that was preparing for the New Year.

The night sky was high and black, the wintry stars shone cold and bright. Although the hall was half empty where the dinner banquet at Feihua Palace was held, music mingling with songs and laughter drifted unmistakably across the entire royal city. At the banquet, officials who narrowly survived the turmoil raised their cups of imperial brew with lingering fear in their hearts, and toasted the young emperor on the high throne behind beaded curtains. Nobles who tried to please the emperor by guessing lantern riddles (2) sat around tables, and exchanged greetings wearing solemn and haughty expressions on their faces.

“Is the Princess Consort Rui not here today?” A low voice came from the womenfolk.

Someone glanced from afar at the half-empty table before the emperor, covered her mouth and laughed: “I heard that Prince Rui has his eyes on a servant girl again and is about to take her as a concubine. One day he’s marrying a concubine, another day he’d be running after an escort – heaven knows how his wife manages to stay at home unperturbed.”

“Where else would she stay?” someone else joined in on the fun, “her own family’s deep in hell already, her younger brother will soon be beheaded. What prospect could she have in her husband’s family? How would she have the nerve to come here today?”

“We should’ve been moved to that table if she’s not coming.” Another one chimed in, dabbing her lips with a perfumed handkerchief that oozed extravagance, “Prince Jin is at the border most of the time, so that seat has been empty for a few years now. Tsk, what a shame to waste a whole table of fine dishes, now that not many are left to enjoy it.”

“The world was turned upside down, yet here you are thinking about food.” The women who spoke earlier giggled, making this one push away the flowery porcelain bowl in front of her, and glared at them with her pretty eyes: “Never mind, I’m not going to eat then. This yanwo (3) is tasteless, leave it.”

“My my,” someone looked at behind the beaded curtains and stopped smiling, “look, even the emperor is done with the meal, he’s leaving.”

Even as she spoke, the hubbub all around paused, and all the royals and nobles stood up. When the head eunuch Hu Li drawled out “the emperor is departing –”, they all kneeled down with their families and subordinates and chanted their respects to the emperor.

The next moment, the beaded curtains before the high throne were drawn up, and servants crowded around the young emperor to help him down the stairs. When minor officials and young ladies who attended the banquet for the first time had found the courage to turn around and look into the night beyond the palace doors, they could only see a bright yellow silhouette, thin and forlorn, slowly stepping into the imperial carriage.

The north wind was harsh and cold, carrying over the sound of a faint cough.

This was when the snow began to fall in the night.

In the depth of the imperial prison, Pei Jun woke up from a disorienting dream in the cold. Breathing feebly, he dimly heard someone calling him from outside the cell, and opened his eyes.

The oil lamp outside the cell was dim, and the straw mat underneath him was damp and gave off a foul stench. He lay there sideways, feeling the whole world turning upside down in his eyes, and only managed to distinguish with great and repeated effort –

Outside the cell was his old friend Cao Luan in a black coat. Cao was leaning forward and clenching the iron bars; he fixed his eyes on Pei Jun, looking anxious and distraught. His lips were opening and closing:

“Ziyu, wake up Ziyu (4), I’m old Cao... (5)”

“Listen to me, I’ve found a way for you...”

Pei Jun knew that even among the all-powerful dignitaries in the capital, Cao Luan could be counted as one of the most capable. If it weren’t the case, someone with no ranks and no connections would never be able to walk into the heavily guarded imperial prison under such circumstances, let alone visit a death row prisoner about to be executed by the personal order of the emperor.

Pei Jun was over thirty years old now; as a man of the world and a well-connected politician, he had experienced all the pleasures and temptations that his station could offer and never lacked for fine meals or company in high society. However, he had long been certain that should his fall from grace place him in dire situations – such as the one he was in now – the only one who could and would come to see him had to be old Cao, who had been his friend since his youth.

There was no lamp in the cell and all was dark. Cao Luan couldn’t see anything clearly, only a vague human shape in iron chains moving slightly with difficulty. As he seemed to get up, Cao hurriedly said:

“Listen, Ziyu. Tomorrow morning when they replace your meals, someone will come to get you out of here.”

“Disguise yourself and leave the palace, travel west by water and find Meng Guangqiu, who I told you about...”

“The brutal purge at the court was such a catastrophe that nobody involved could emerge unscathed, not even the Xiao and Mei families. Your wealth was confiscated, your properties lost, your allies and followers scattered, so you must start over. Meng has already arranged for you to change your name...”

“The luxurious and enviable life you once had in the capital, your high position and the high wages that came with it – all of it is now dust and ashes. I know how much you must hate, but you need to put it aside for now. In a few years, when all of this blows over, if you want to you could totally find another –”

Clank!

A sudden clash of iron chains rang out. A horrifying bloodied hand reached out between the bars and suddenly clenched Cao Luan’s fingers.

Startled, Cao Luan stopped speaking, and heard a low and hoarse whispery voice after a moment of silence in the cell:

“...It doesn’t...matter.”

Once the centre of power, now stripped of all titles. Various factions proceeded to stab him in the back and sent him to prison. There he was poisoned and became mute, and his mouth was covered with bloody sores. Uttering these few words alone was unspeakably difficult. Hearing him speak, Cao Lun teared up. Before he could try to persuade Pei Jun again, Pei Jun spoke with difficulty:

“It doesn’t matter...”

His bloodied hand, which slowly loosened its grip on Cao Luan, was covered by wounds, blood, and sores. When he opened his hand, a ghastly pierce wound that ran through his palm was revealed; the blood wasn’t dried yet but had already blackened.

Cao Luan felt a sharp sting in his eyes. When he raised his head again with a frown, he was finally able to make out the ravaged face covered by whip marks behind the iron bars and the man’s blood-stained prison garments.

Pei Jun grinned at him through the bars. For a moment, it almost seemed like he still was that mischievous boy who used to come to Cao Luan to stir up trouble, but the fine lines that appeared at the corners of his eyes when he smiled betrayed all the hardships for the past twenty years.

In a mere twenty years, this body of his had been worn down by the world. Now that he was in prison, his legs that once marched to the sand-swept battlefield were broken, his hands that once composed imperial edicts at the Hanlin Academy (6) were ruined, and even his mouth that once made eloquent arguments at the golden throne room – so persuasive that it made what’s wrong seem right – couldn’t even make a mumble now.

– How was he supposed to leave?

What would be the point of waiting for another few years?

Silently, Pei Jun covered the back of Cao Luan’s hand with his own blood-stained hand and patted it tremblingly.

After a long while, he patted it again as if telling Cao to take care, and uttered a final word with all his strength:

“... go.”

Cao Luan’s grip on the iron bars suddenly grew weak. He staggered to his feet, and only had time to glance into the cell one more time with reddened eyes. As he closed his eyes in pain and regret, the palace attendant who led the way signalled him to leave:

“Master Cao, it’s time. Come this way.”

Outside the imperial prison, the icy wind cut like a blade, and snow fell like tears from the night sky. Walking in the endless snow, Cao Luan flexed his hands helplessly. He looked down at his trembling fingers in the swaying shadows under the moon, and all he saw was blood from the prison cell.

The night deepened. Between the buildings of the inner palace in the imperial city, major court officials passed in a single file.

The old man in front donning a sable coat and tucking his hands in the muff was Cai Yan, the chief minister of the cabinet. There was a gloomy look in his eyes under his grey eyebrows as he walked without a word. Behind him was his third son Cai Lan, who had just been appointed the head of the Ministry of Personnel. Cai Lan on the other hand had cheery good looks, and walked with a spring in his steps. The other ministers behind them followed closely – they were all disciples and followers of the Cai family. This effectively ended the power division at court where officials were split into two factions; from now on no followers of the Pei family were left.

They arrived at Chongning palace shortly, where the young emperor Jiang Zhan resided. The officials waited outside the palace and requested an audience with the emperor to pay respect to him, seeing that the emperor felt ill and left the banquet early. However the eunuch outside the palace said that the emperor was fine, and that he instructed the ministers not to worry without saying much else.

Hearing this, the officials looked at each other, knowing that they wouldn’t get an audience, kowtowed and took their leave.

Cai Yan and his son were again at the head of the file leaving the palace. They brushed shoulders with a group of attendants entering the palace.

As if sensing something, Cai Yan halted his steps and looked back. The attendants were escorting someone coming from outside the palace. They surrounded him closely and ushered him to Chongning Palace.

Can Lan saw it too and wondered: “Father, isn’t that man –”

Cai Yan coughed in a low voice, and stopped his son from speaking with a solemn look. When he looked back again at the tall figure that disappeared inside the palace, it suddenly dawned on him what was going on. He sighed with a pitying note in his voice: “All his life he’d been a mad dog, how could he’ve known that he’d been bitten to death by one of his own...Poor Master Pei.”

Cai Lan had long been accustomed to his father’s discretion in public. He made a fist-and-palm gesture obediently behind his father, and said: “That guy Pei Jun sabotaged so many of our connections in the past ten years, not to mention that he dared to share power with you and rode roughshod over everyone else. It only serves him right to die. Now that we doubled down and rooted him out, the cabinet is finally cleansed of his influence and we don’t need to worry about anyone else. Anyway he’ll be executed tomorrow. Father, you won’t have to lose sleep over this in the future.”

Cai Yan held out a hand to flick off the snow on the muff, and glanced at Cai Lan with some deep meaning in his eyes: “I’m afraid that you’re too short-sighted to look beyond your own nose. You don’t seem to see that a catastrophe is descending upon us.”

Cai Lan was puzzled. He saw his father look up at the stars with worried eyes:

“All nine stars in the Coiled Thong (7) are shining brightly, a prophecy of many soon to be imprisoned. The court used to be controlled half by the Pei family and half by the Cai family, now that Pei is gone and justice has been served, wherefore this sign of mass incarceration?”

Cai Yan turned around to look at the flickering light in the Chongning Palace, and spoke in a flat tone: “To serve the emperor is like accompanying a tiger; the tiger lies hidden in wait and attacks abruptly, as unpredictable as the emperor. The emperor may have given us leave to destroy Pei Jun for the present, who’s to say he won’t wipe out our family in the name of rehabilitating Pei Jun in the future? For this reason, we’re also standing beneath the execution knife even as we prosper... Peifeng (8), since you’ve made yourself known to the emperor, you must stay alert. Not only should you serve the emperor with great care, but you need to keep the survival of your family in mind.”

Cai Lan looked smug: “Don’t worry father, the emperor has shown me great favour. He’ll never give the Cai family a hard time.”

Seeing his son’s expression, Cai Yan curled his lips, but retorted mercilessly: “Back in the days when Pei Jun had no idea he’d come to this, he must have thought the same as you do.”

Astounded, Cai Lan halted his steps, and heard his father’s haunting voice float back to him: “Pei Ziyu was in power for a decade. Although he’s a helpless prisoner now and his fortune is worse than yours a hundredfold, he used to tutor the emperor and preside over the court in the emperor’s stead; his glory, prestige, and renown was more than yours ten thousandfold. Even historians would have to pay him special attention when they record all the villainous officials of past dynasties. But not matter how favoured a minister is, he’s still a subject of the emperor. Once the emperor turns his heart against you and the troubles begin – one day you were still a favourite, another day you’d be a corpse!”

Cai Yan stopped suddenly to look back, and caught an expected sign of panic in his son’s astonished looks. He squinted his sharp eyes and instructed his son intently:

“In the future, Mufeng, always remember how Pei Jun meets his death.”

Snow drifted outside Chongning Palace, but inside the golden lamps held bright candles, and a charcoal fire kept the hall warm.

A young man of small stature kneeled in the hall, his short eyebrows knitted in a frown. Not daring to move, he had been prostrating on the floor for almost an hour.

Low coughs came intermittently from behind the purple mesh screen. When servants carrying the plates served up the medicinal soup, Jiang Zhan, sitting on the throne decorated with golden dragons, only sent them away with a wave of his sleeve. He huddled by the animal-head copper stove, his lowered eyes glimpsed at the screen. In the suffocating silence of the room, he slowly placed his stiff fingers close to the searing stove and watched his finger tips turn red in the heat. Then he spoke suddenly: “We remember that you’ve studied under your master for many years.”

The person down the hall immediately kowtowed with tremors down his spine: “To answer your majesty, it...it’s been twelve years.”

Jiang Zhan nodded slowly, and as if speaking to himself, he muttered with a frown: “Huh, it’s been twelve years already...” He turned his hand over the stove and watched the red-hot coal in the furnace, his clear voice lightened up a little: “It took quite some trouble this time to send the Pei faction to prison. It couldn’t have be done without you, we must give you a reward. What do you want?”

After the person down the hall heard this, his hands resting on the carved floor tiles began to tremble. His voice had an insuppressible note of exhilaration: “This comm...commoner only wish to devote my entire life to serving your majesty and the country. I dare...dare not have other vain desires.”

Jiang Zhan appeared amused by his words and chuckled. He withdrew his hand and held up the teacup on the table, and said mildly: “That was a nice and sensible thing to say, you really are your master’s good student.” He glanced at the eunuch by the screen and continued: “It’s cold, sorry to trouble you to come here and pay respects. Have some hot tea first.”

Hearing this, the eunuch beckoned to the palace maid down the hall, and quickly a cup of tea was served.

The person outside the screen expressed his thanks profusely, and hastily took two sips while kneeling there. In an instant, the tea warmed his stomach and his heart, and made him feel that the desolation and suffering of his betrayal for so many years was finally handsomely rewarded. As he looked at the beautiful teacup in his hands, he seemed to have a vision in the misty vapours rising from the tea, a vision where he rose to a high position at court and basked in glory. Upon such thoughts, it was as if the tea burned his stomach even more hotly, sending thrills throughout his whole body.

Just then, he heard a sigh on the other side of the screen: “Alas, like your master often told me in the past, your small-mindedness is incorrigible. Looks like it’s indeed true.”

Before the person beyond the screen could say a word, he suddenly felt a hot wave of crushing pain in his stomach. In an instant everything went black, he spat out some blood, fell back with a thud, and stopped breathing.

On this side of the mesh screen, Jiang Zhan was still warming his hands silently with lowered eyes. Attendants from the side palace rushed in and carried away the corpse silently. In a flash, even the blood on the floor was wiped clean.

Another person was promptly brought in, and the eunuch announced: “Your majesty, he’s here.”

Jiang Zhan raised his eyes, and through the screen, he faintly saw a dark human shape coming in and kneeling down. He said lazily: “Rise.”

The person down the hall kowtowed: “thank you, your majesty”, and rose slowly.

Jiang Zhan withdrew his hands by the stove, propped up his head and leaned on the armrest. he watched the man with some interest: “You are a busy man indeed. We sent someone to your residence three times, and you were never there. I heard that you’ve been having drinks with the surveillance commissioner Cui Lin lately?”

The figure immediately froze, but calmed himself and said: “...To answer your majesty, this commoner first met master Cui while my station in life was still lowly, we’re just old friends.”

Jiang Zhan nodded, and sighed with some pity, “My condolences then. Servants told me just now that master Cui passed away from chest pain this morning. No wonder I didn’t see him at the banquet.”

The figure shook violently. Jiang Zhan continued: “Speaking of, his in-laws from the Meng family in Hexi must be coming to the capital to offer their condolences, I heard that they're your old friends too?”

There immediately came a thump from down the hall, and the eunuch hurried to help him up.

The sight made Jiang Zhan grin, he curled his lips like an amused child: “Never mind, I won’t question you about your private affairs. I asked you to come here only because it occurred to me, you made a great contribution to overthrowing the Pei faction. I just wanted to ask what reward you have in mind.”

He watched the dark swaying figure on the screen being helped up by the eunuch, and the figure’s voice answered, dry and trembling: “This commoner...only wish that my family are alive and well, other wishes...I dare not make, I hope your majesty...grant my request.”

Hearing this, Jiang Zhan stopped his hand holding the cup, and his smile gradually faded. After a long while, he spoke slowly: “He’s right. You on the other hand is a really smart person.”

In the long deafening silence that ensued, the man down the hall saw a bright yellow shape behind the screen swaying as if waving his hand. Only then was he dragged out by the eunuch.

Jiang Zhan put down the cup on the desk. His eyes swept across treasures of gold and jade in the splendid palace, and as they landed on a petite golden rooster paperweight, the cold indifference in his heart gradually turned to dismal hatred.

He raised his hand and swept the paperweight off the desk. The sharp pain in his palm disrupted his breaths, making him cough violently again.

In the panicked cries of the servants calling for the doctor, the gaunt young emperor collapsed in the chair behind him. He covered his lips with a golden sleeve as the cough went on and on until it almost seemed to tear his body apart. His eyes grew red and he removed his sleeve, only to find it stained with red.

In the dead of night, the banquet finally wrapped up in Feihua palace. Court officials and royals bid each other farewell in the snow.

Tang Yuming, heir to the Ningwu Marquess, drunkenly stumbled out of the palace and called behind him: “Siqi! Qian Siqi! Come lend your master a hand!”

The disciple with a scarred face came to his senses and went ahead to help.

“Where were you? I was going to have you toast master Cai but couldn’t find you...” Tang Yuming scolded the disciple with a slur. But since he was busy venting his feelings, he didn’t really expect an answer. Having followed Tang for years, the disciple knew this very well. He quietly wiped off his tears and said nothing. Tang Yuming then clamoured and yelled that he wanted to catch up to the Cai family walking in front, so the disciple silently helped him over. They were soon lost in the din of the crowd flattering each other.

Ten steps away from them, the Grand Secretary of the Wenyuan Library Zhang Ling and his son led a group of people out of the palace, and kept a distance from them. Their numbers were few, but they didn’t hurry to catch up with the others.

“Be careful, father.”

Zhang Ling was cautiously helped down the stairs by his son Zhang San. His hand circled back to message himself in the back, and he raised his head to see the black clouds covering the moon and stars after the great snow. Looking away, he sighed heavily: “The weather’s about to get even worse. Let’s go back.”

“Yes.” Zhang San reminded him with lowered eyes: “Be careful with your words, father.”

The same snow drifted across all the neighbourhoods of the capital, carpeting the cold hard ground in a layer of icy white.

At Prince Rui’s mansion in the eastern part of the city, the nine-year-old little prince dodged the spoonful of soup his mother fed him. he scampered to the window and laughed happily: “Mother, the snow is so heavy! Can I make a snowman tomorrow morning?”

But the boy’s smiley face only made the Princess Consort sink into a fit of heartaches. She put down the porcelain bowl and couldn’t hold back any longer. She covered her face and wept, her thin and frail wrist exposed from under her sleeves was covered by alarming blue marks.

The day was so cold. The nineteenth year of Yuanguang arrived quietly tonight. But this empire ruled by the Jiang family, which had stood for over three hundred years, was now teetering on the edge of collapse.

Drought and famine broke out in the north, but the imperial court had no attention to spare for those who were starving and dying or the bandits that terrorised the roads. In Jiangdong, people were unjustly sentenced to death, but the imperial court was too busy with its own affairs to deal with the corrupt officials there who sucked the people dry. Just then the Pei Jun case occurred, which somehow inspired all the crooked and idling court officials to work together with unwarranted diligence to stamp out evil. Everyone however slightly involved was immediately imprisoned and interrogated, and everywhere people were thrown into a state of intense fear and panic. Bloody purges and brutal tortures followed one after another in the capital. All of this leading up to sentencing and executions only took half a month.

East of the river, riots were constantly breaking out across the region; outside Shuoyang Pass, tens of thousands of refugees were fleeing the famine in the wild. All over the country, vile officials persecuted common soldiers, while greedy soldiers oppressed the people; famished fathers lost their children, and freezing children buried their parents. Terrified and helpless, the common people cried and begged, but the imperial court was utterly unmoved. In sorrow and despair, the people almost began to hope for signs of the invasion and demise of their country.

For them, the night was pitch black, and would remain so regardless of the death of one court official; just as the dark clouds that covered the moon wouldn’t disperse because of a sudden gust of wind.

But none of this prevented the bright morning sun from rising the next day.

In the dazzling sunlight, the iron gate of the imperial prison clanged wide open. Blinded by the light, Pei Jun could only hear the ringing of iron chains around him. Dragging his broken legs, Pei Jun was carried out of the prison and thrown into a prison cart. Then he heard the warden chanting in a high-pitched voice:

“– Traitor Pei Jun! Deceitful and disobedient to the emperor, usurper of the throne! Your grave offences amount to a total number of ninety-six! Upon consultation with the three judicial ministries and authorisation of the emperor, you are hereby sentenced to public decapitation, the execution is to take place immediately!”

Notes:

(1) Yuanguang is the reign title of the emperor.

(2) Guessing lantern riddles is a popular entertainment during Lunar New Year and is still practiced to this day in China.

(3) Yanwo, literally meaning “swallow’s nest,” are edible bird nests created from solidified saliva by edible-nest swiftlets. Yanwo has been a delicacy in Chinese cuisine for over 400 years and is believed to have great health benefits. Yanwo often fetches exorbitantly high prices because of its rarity.

(4) Ziyu is Pei Jun’s courtesy name.

(5) When people refer to themselves or others as “old + last name,” it is to signify a casual closeness between friends, it doesn’t mean actual old age.

(6) The Hanlin Academy was an elite academic and administrative institution of higher learning founded in the 8th century during the Tang Dynasty. Scholars at the academy performed secretarial and literary tasks such as drafting imperial edicts, compiling classics, composing historical records, tutoring members of the royal family, and serving as examiners of the imperial examinations.

(7) The Coiled Thong (guan suo) is an asterism in the constellation Corona Borealis. In ancient China, it symbolises being constrained or imprisoned.

(8) Peifeng is Cai Lan’s courtesy name.

#danmei #the sins of lord pei

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