#my casting is extremely inspired

[prince--thomas]

Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime ~~ [Tonnie]

@ugly-anastasia​

Christmas morning had been nice. Even though Tom had a crick in his neck from sleeping on the couch whilst Melody took his bed. Every time he went to pick up Levi, he winced. But, it was worth it so that Mellie could wake up on Christmas with the rest of her family (well, some of them), instead of alone in the shitty little apartment that she had. 

It had been mostly quiet. Each of the adults had only gotten each other one present, but had had fun opening all of Levi’s for him. The baby had passed out around the time Melody and John hit the kitchen to make breakfast. Phil and Tom cleaned the living room whilst the bacon sizzled.

They’d eaten a big breakfast, Levi had woken up. They’d fed him and then, Tom had sighed, checking his watch. It was about an hour before they had to head over to Annie’s.

He didn’t want to go, but despite what Annie thought of him, he was interested in keeping the peace and wanted to have a good Christmas. So, he packed up his present for Annie and presents for Harlyanne and Jaxson, as well as Zella and Mrs. Tremaine, and packed things into the car.

It was a short trip over the Annie’s and Tom reached up to ring the doorbell. Melody was grinning at his side, because she hadn’t really met Annie yet. Only heard stories and seen her briefly in passing. And, despite how much she hated her for what she did to her brother, Tom knew that she was also a bit of a gossip and couldn’t wait to see this go down.

“Play nice,” Tom told Melody.

She turned and smiled at him, Levi on her hip. “What? I’ll be on my best behavior. Promise.”

[outfit] [melody’s outfit] [levi’s outfit, minus the sweater probably]

[imdevilmaaaaaaaaaaan]

Hello, Devilman fans.

Toshin Devilman has an English scanlation now.

This manga has been one of the few Devilman alliterations that does not have much information avaliable about it online and I have been curious about it for some years now. It is also one of the only adaptations that does not feature Akira Fudo, Ryo Asuka or any other past major Devilman character as the main protagonist. Instead it focuses on a new character named Kei Kamishiro.

I want to give a big thank you to trafalgarlog for translating this manga. Be sure to support trafalgarlog by checking out his website right here, you will find other manga he has translated along with a link to his Patron and Ko-Fi: https://trafalgarlog.wordpress.com/

[heegyukeluv]

the devil wears prada (sjy)

pairing: idol!jake x afab!reader

synopsis: As Sim Jaeyun stepped out of Prada’s after party, everyone ignored his goodbyes to the sea of paparazzis, because the buzz was about the lucky person who got to disheveled his hair. Jake’s honest answer for that was: the devil. And she for sure wears Prada.

my's note: i love how everyone saw Jake’s after-party photos and thought the same thing (i'm everyone). disheveled hair jake after-party prada that’s all. and i just realized i don’t know how to write a quickie lol enjoy <3 (please take into consideration this is a work of fiction, this doesn't represents the artist's image)

warnings: SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, protected sex, oral (f. receiving), cum eating, quickie but not really, public (?) bathroom sex, mirror sex, reader is quite dom with jake (i can't help myself), mention of alcohol. lmk if i missed something!

wc: 5.4k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire

The air was thick with the scent of luxury – champagne and expensive perfumes mingling with the buzz of the conversations in every corner of the room.

You had your back leaning against the marble counter of the bar, fingers nonchalantly tracing the edge of your vibrant drink and eyes drifting through the sea of people. Everyone was dressed to impress, each guest showcasing their creativity through Prada’s clothes, accessories and shoes.

Working in the fashion industry came with perks, and being invited to exclusive after-parties was undoubtedly the best one. So you weren’t a stranger to this world. The glamourist atmosphere, the music playing as a soft background, the dim lights casting a perfect blend of elegance and casualness over the place.

It made your body shiver with joy, fulfillment at its most filling your chest, as the surroundings seemed to confirm what you already knew: you were in the right place – your place.

Earlier, at the main event, you watched the showcase with sparkling eyes, recording specific moments to use later as inspiration for your own creativity process. You loved how free you could be with your ideas while doing your work, not to mention the possibility of adding tons of yourself to it. Some might call it an egoistic behavior, as if your job existed solely for your own satisfaction. But the creation was yours, so why shouldn’t the outcome be about you too?

You took another sip of your drink, your sharp gaze scanning the room.

As soon as you stepped at the after-party, many other designers and some artists approached to compliment both your visual and your work, and you confidently talked with them. Yet, coming not from one, but from a few of them, there was an underlying tone; their praises were not solely aimed at your outfit or your impeccable creations, but rather an attempt to carve a path to your heart – or, perhaps, under your dress.

You never denied you had a good appearance. Together with your sense of style and your fearless demeanor, you enchanted anyone who crossed your way. The badass woman aura you exhaled was almost palpable and extremely hot for those who watched – with heart and lustful eyes – as you passed by.

Despite the usual lingering intense gazes on you, far from feeling intimidated or even shy by them, there was one pair of eyes burning deeper, piquing your curiosity as you kept on searching for its owner. 

It was like you every motion was being captured by them, following you across the room, and no matter how many conversations you effortlessly maneuvered through, all you could feel was the constant, intense weight of the said gaze.

After one more drink and some uninterested noddings at the guy who took place near you at the bar, you finally found him.

Sitting on the middle sofas of the main room, drink in hand, together with his group, devil eyes staring at you shamelessly, biting his lip and looking extremely hot as doing so.

You quirked an eyebrow in his direction, not even bothering to follow the bla-bla-bla coming from the random guy anymore, his words sounding like nothing to you at that point.

Especially because the attractive man looking at you didn’t even flinch after getting caught, as if it was the purpose from the beginning. If anything, he deepened eye contact in a daring, cocky manner, almost challenging you to react over the tension that started to hang in the air between you two.

Unlucky to him, you weren’t the type to follow anyone’s lead but yours, so you simply let out a soft scoff, a smirk tugging at your lips as you deliberately took another sip of your drink without breaking the new unspoken game – the one you were sure you would win.

You observed closely how he drifted his gaze away from yours just to blatantly check you out, stopping on your bare thighs for a moment before doing the same on your exposed chest, the neckline of your dress giving the perfect bait for men like him.

He shifted on his seat, gulping and then assaulting his lower lip with his teeth once more, as if trying to contain himself from running all the way to you, just to undress you properly instead of keep on doing that with his glare. 

You would be lying if you said that his demeanor wasn’t helping to ignite the fire from your core to your entire body, skin heating with a hint of desire. Even so, you waited patiently.

The random designer talking to you was long gone already, though you barely noticed, unnecessarily engrossed in your little game.

With a subtle, innocent tilt of your chin, you motioned your head slowly as a signal, beckoning him to come closer, without breaking eye contact. The simple gesture caught him off guard; his confident atmosphere stumbling to keep itself up, eyes growing wide in surprise, and you found it irresistibly adorable.

The corner of your lips curled when he stood up after whispering something to one of his friends, who quickly glanced at you and then showed a small smile. You finished your drink as he made his way over, his steps relaxed, but his eyes avoiding yours. You almost chuckled at the endearing scene.

As he approached, you noticed how young he seemed to be, perhaps even younger than you. Not to mention his incredible inebriating fragrance and self beauty – the plump pink lips and the high bridge nose perfectly sculpted doing things to you.

“Hey,” he greeted, eyes straightaway dropping to your exposed neckline, lingering on the curve of your chest.

You leaned in just slightly, making sure he got a better view, batting your lashes with a sly smile. “Hey.”

Without asking for your preference, he ordered two drinks. You decided to let it slide for now – being surprised could be fun every now and then, and maybe accepting his drinks could be one of the keys to get something more.

“You’ve been turning heads all night.” He finally said after a while, the hot, aussie accent didn’t go unnoticed by you. Your body heat increased as an immediate response. 

As you tilted your head slightly, letting a small smile play on your lips, you smoothly replied with faux innocence. “Have I?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, thanking the bartender for the drink as he handed you one, oblivious of the rhetorical question. Your smile widened. “Can I know your name?”

“Y/N,” you politically extended your hand, eyes sharp on his face. His grip was hesitant, and the moment your fingers touched, an unexpected jolt of electricity shot through your body. You suppressed a slight shiver.

“Jake,” he introduced himself, caring little to nothing about showing how affected he got just by feeling your soft palm on his.

His breath hitched, getting caught on his throat as his eyes darkened. He couldn’t help but think about how your touch would feel elsewhere on his body.

The excitement flooded your chest instantly, you had to hold back yourself because you realized that if you wanted – and you so did – those perfect lips would be attached to yours in no time, and if you were lucky enough, they would be exploring other parts of your body as well.

“Nice meeting you, Jake.” You murmured, pronouncing his name with your most velvety voice, slowly pulling your hand away to grab your drink from the counter, sipping it.

Jake tracked your deliberate movements, wetting his slightly parted lips when he saw your red lipstick staining on the glass edge, utterly in disbelief he simply discovered someone who definitely came out from his wettest dreams, who would turn the smallest, innocent gesture into something sensual.

Even the simple act of blinking in his direction seemed meticulously calculated to make it hard to resist your advances, fueling the growing tightness inside his pants.

Not to mention how sexy his name rolled out of your beautifully tinted lips. 

Jake leaned his arms on the marble counter, turning his head to keep on watching you, as if your presence were an alluring, tempting show, happening right in front of his eyes just to damage his weak heart.

“I couldn’t stop looking at you.” He blurted out shamelessly, shattering the ‘cool’ facade he was trying to maintain under your intense gaze.

There was something about how sincere, seductive, and yet, desperate he sounded, as if his greatest longing in life was to have you right away. You were enjoying that guy so much so far. 

“I’ve noticed,” you chuckled with your eyes brimming with flirtation, shifting between his plush, kissable lips and his desire-filled orbs. “And are you planning to keep just looking?”

Jake blinked, momentarily taken aback with your quick and direct response. Although you had an obvious confident aura radiating through your pores, he definitely didn't expect you to be so straight to the point, thinking he would have to ease things a bit more.

And honestly? He found your vibe more exciting than he would like to admit. 

“I guess that depends on what you want,” he answered, voice dropping a tone, trying to match the energy you exuded.

Ignoring the chills running through your spine by his low murmur, you softly chuckled and leaned back against the bar, gaze still locked with his.

“Oh, Jake,” you teasingly cooed, grinning, with your voice dripping with amusement, “I always get what I want.”

It was visibly apparent how your words ignited something on his body, perking up in anticipation while his eyes deepened and his jaw clenched; if you looked close enough, you would see the slight bulge in his crotch area. 

Jake straightened his posture, finishing his drink in one go without breaking eye contact, hooded eyelids offering you the most magnetic sight you saw that night until that moment.

Then he leaned in closer, the tension between you two increasing with every heartbeat. “Meet me in the bathroom,” he whispered in your ear, a cocky smirk creeping onto his face.

As he walked towards the restroom area, his confident stride only added to the thrill. Men would be promising you the best night of your life just to leave you hanging and dealing with your situation alone. However, Jake seemed to exude an air of boldness blended perfectly with devotion, making a rush of anticipation bubbling in your core.

You let out a small laugh, not even caring about finishing your drink. The thrilling game had just started and you were so ready to play.

Jake’s lips tasted like heaven. And fancy liquor.

His hands were everywhere, but mainly on your ass and neck, his desperation evident by the way he pressed your back into the cold wall, sucking your lips as if his life depended on it.  

After following his traces, feigning indifference as best as you could to the open public, it took mere seconds before you felt his strong grasp on your hips guiding you into the bathroom – fortunately, they had private, separated spaces, making it easier for the two of you to steal as much privacy as the party allowed.

You could hear the muffled hum of the songs playing as a background, merging with the lewd sounds from the messy, hungry kiss you both shared and the soft groans rumbling from Jake’s throat as well.

Just minutes ago your plans were completely different; just some kisses and calling it a night, definitely not imagining things going further than that. However, the way Jake’s mouth skilfully moved against yours made you wonder how good it would feel in other places of your body, like in between your legs, and you just had to give it a chance.

“You taste so good,” he murmured, barely breaking the contact, lips already swollen and reddened due to your lipstick and your not so gentle bites. 

You hummed in response, unable to form proper words about how amazing of a job he was doing just by kissing you. 

Your fingers tangled in his silky brown hair, tugging without restraint because you quickly realized how much Jake liked it. He moaned, lips parting against yours with the intensity of the pull, your hazed gaze catching a quick glimpse of his eyes rolling back – an extremely devilish view.

Although stumbling a bit, Jake managed to easily place you at the edge of the sink’s counter by lifting you firmly gripping your thighs, the feeling alone making you wince as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist for support.

The room seemed to shrink as your breaths quickened, the boiling sensation bubbling in your stomach as you anticipated for more of his intense, heated, passionate touches. 

Jake, just as breathless, decided to assault the flesh of your neck and exposed collarbone, getting drunk on your scent and softness as he did so, loving how you tilted your head just enough to give him some more access to explore.

A soft moan escaped your lips and your fingers tightened on his hair when he nibbled your sensitive spot, close to your earlobe, sending jolts of electricity directly to your pussy.

You could feel a smirk creeping into his mouth, right before he questioned teasingly, slowly sucking the area. “Do you like that?”

You fought to keep your composure, a soft smile threatening to break through as the heat blossomed in your core. His breath tickled your skin, deliberately waiting for your answer while igniting every inch of you by keeping on playing on that spot. 

The first reaction you gave was another moan together with your nails digging on his shoulders and scratching his scalp. Then you admitted, still struggling to hold yourself back. “Fuck, yes. I do.” 

Jake cooed at you, gently pulling away from the curve of your neck to study your dazed expression; lips agape releasing heavy breaths, cheeks flushed with a delicate pink and eyes half-lidded, fluttering slowly, still dripping in the same confidence you once carried, as if even under his lead you were the one commanding.

“You look hot and messy, and I haven’t even started yet.” Jake teased, a playful smile gracing his lips as he pressed them against yours again.

“Do you always talk that much?” You murmured, not quite intending to judge his demeanor, but a bit annoyed and amused by how he appeared to need to hear you frequently while savoring you. 

“Only when I'm nervous.” Jake answered honestly with an awkward chuckle, helping you to remove his jacket, which landed straight on the ground and he couldn’t care less.  

“Oh, do I make you nervous Jakey?” You smirked, thirsting over his now exposed veiny arms. 

Watching Jake’s cheeks being painted with a faint blush while he swallowed hard under your sharp gaze, clearly getting flustered, brought back the control you thought was lost. 

“Maybe a little,” Jake tried to play it cool, but his voice came out smaller than he expected, and he tried to avoid facing you by leaning to kiss you again.

A glint of mischief sparkled in your eyes when you noticed he was losing his composure. You kindly held his head still, forcing him to keep his gaze on you. “Aw, come on, Jakey. Don’t shy away now,” you said, a smooth voice layered with playfulness and a sultry, almost mocking undertone. “You haven’t even started yet, isn’t that right?” 

Jake nearly moaned when he heard your words, not because of them itself but by how hot you sounded. His cock throbbed painfully inside his pants, his underwear probably stained with his leaking precum at that point. 

Jake got fooled at some moment by thinking he was the one in charge, even provoking you while exploring your desires initially, but the reality was that he had been following your lead like a lost puppy all along. 

There was something about how confident and dominant you seemed to be since the beginning, not faltering a single moment to his boldness, and somehow you carried that still, assuming the control gracefully, as if it was your job. And Jake was very grateful for you doing so.

His eyes softened and his breath hitched. 

“Tell me, what do you want from me?” The question slipped from his plush, beautiful lips, laced with desire and a touch of vulnerability without much cohesive thinking, clouded mind craving to satisfy you, because that meant his own fulfillment. “I wanna give you everything.”

Devoting to a devilish goddess like you was a tempting surrender he was eager to embrace.

You felt a pulse straight in your clit and your cheeks heating, the weight of his desperate words triggering your following behavior.

Jake saw the way your face brightened up, realizing he had opened the hell’s gate and he was eager to enter – if you were the personification of the devil, he was more than willing to drown into your lustful, tempting sea of sins. 

“What do I want from you?” You echoed, an amused grin curling the corner of your lips as your eyes traced Jake’s attractive features, pausing on his perfectly sculpted high-bridged nose, accompanied just below by his tasteful lips. You smiled, caressing it with your thumb. “I want them. Eat me out.” 

Jake’s breath got caught on his throat and his eyes grew in a slight surprise, not only due to your bold, straightforward request, but mainly because the idea of having your pussy in full display for him to play sounded too dreamy.

“Are you sure?” He asked in a low, contained voice, struggling to keep down his excitement, biting his lower lip, aiming to confirm he wasn’t going insane.

“I know what I want, Jake.” You cocked your head with a raised eyebrow. “And you?”

Jake’s eyes immediately dropped to your chest and then your bare thighs. The dress had ridden up due to the position so he was able to see a hint of your laced, black panties. He wet his lips, mouth watering while he lowered enough to bend comfortably and be eye level with your cunt.

You watched, fascinated by how in trance he seemed to be, as though your final word was the cue for him to dive into you completely. 

Your stomach fluttered in anticipation as you propped yourself up to help Jake slide your panties down your legs, gentle hands caressing your smooth skin as he did so. Then he grabbed your ass and pulled you forward, shooting you a quick glance and smile before burying his face between your legs, the smell of your pussy intoxicating his senses. 

He first gave it a small, slow kitty-lick, testing the waters, then frowned in pleasure, groaning with your delicious taste dissolving on his tongue.

A soft gasp slipped from your lips and you quickly pursed them to stifle the sounds threatening to escape, fighting the urge of allowing yourself to let go so easily. One of your hands searched for support on the edge of the counter and the other held on tight to Jake’s hair.

Jake gave a long, savoring lick, finishing with a delectable, lewd sucking noise in your clit, as if he was starting to make out with your pussy. Your mouth fell open and your eyes fluttered shut, your limbs feeling like jelly as a wave of weakness coursed through you.

His hot muscle started to work faster, steadier and precise in between your folds, your entrance and your sensitive bundle of nerves, giving each of them the right amount of attention.

“Holy shit, Jake,” you moaned shakily, unable to keep it low. “You’re so fucking good at this,” you threw your head back, unconsciously waving your body towards his face, practically griding on it.

Jake moaned with your praise, skilfully shaking his head whenever he flickered his tongue in your hole, just to rub your clit with his nose, before moving back to suck on it, entirely immersed on his duty to please you.

He was on cloud nine. 

Your taste flooding his senses, your body reacting to his stimulus, heating up and shivering under his precise touch, your pretty moans filling up the space straight into his ears, like angels singing – though he was sure you were a devil in disguise. 

Every noise coming from your throat was sending a rush of electricity directly into his dick, not to mention how your cunt became wetter and wetter with the lewd mixture of his own saliva and your arousal. Jake could die that moment and would be happy with it.

Reading the way your breathing grew heavy and feeling how you clenched around the tip of his tongue, Jake deduced you were near to the edge.

“I’m close–” You whispered, confirming his theory.

The knot on your stomach tightened when Jake began to focus mainly on your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue on it, eager for your release – perhaps more than you. “I’m really close, Jak–”

Your arms nearly failed to keep yourself up as your orgasm hit, a long moan falling from your mouth interrupting your warning, your spine arching with the euphoria wave and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your juices coated Jake’s tongue, who took all of it proudly; you hissed feeling his mouth still working on your sensitive cunt, and you pulled him away by his hair.

Without a word Jake brought his lips to yours, making you taste yourself still hazy minded after your strucking climax. You groaned, slowly starting to move your hips to get down from the counter, Jake unconsciously helping you through it by supporting your weight until your heels landed on the floor. 

You lightly pushed Jake’s chest to move him away, meeting his dazed expression, one that had nothing to do with the alcohol in his veins. You grabbed the hem of his black shirt, quietly asking for him to remove it. And he did without hesitation.

"Fuck me," you demanded, taking a glimpse of his beautiful toned abs, a bit out of breath and even needier now. "Fuck me and watch you doing it through this mirror."

Jake flashed a quick grin, still recovering from the smothering and delightful feeling of being in between your legs, before fumbling with his belt, hands frantic undoing the button of his pants to slide them down.

You took your sweet time to thirst over the outline of his covered, extremely hard length, interrupting his actions by gripping his wrist, savoring the moment as you licked your lips, mouth watering.

“It’s a shame we cannot take much longer,” you started, fauxing innocence as you stepped closer just enough to touch him over his white boxers. A small, provocative chuckle coming from your throat before you murmured. “Really wanted to feel you in my mouth.” And then you kissed the corner of his parted lips.

Jake whimpered when you softly squeezed his neglected dick, leaning closer to you instinctively, holding onto the edge of the counter behind you while resting his sweaty forehead on your shoulder. His breath was heavy against your skin, where he pressed his lips a few times until reaching your earlobe, nibbling. 

Your sneaky hands entered the hem of his clothing piece to jerk him off; your teasing, deliberate moves were driving him insane. The way your warm palm rubbed his sensitive tip made his groans increase just as much as his pulse, and he moaned a bit louder when you finally freed his aching dick out of his boxers by pushing them down, allowing your hand to pump his shaft easier. 

With closed eyes, you enjoyed the waves of pleasure going down, directly to your cunt, making you wet again by hearing Jake’s sultry noises and hot breath brushing against your ear.

Your lips grazed along his jawline at the same time you threatened your fingers through his slightly dampened hair, disheveling it even more before pulling it away from the curve of your neck, so you could capture his mouth in a slow, passionate kiss.

"Condom?" You asked under breath after parting away from his mouth, slowing your hand on his dick. You noticed his body tensing right after your question, eyes growing wide in panic, which piqued your curiosity.

There’s no way he…

"Shit, I didn't bring–"

You let out a soft scoff, part laughter, part disbelief. Without missing a beat, your hands resumed their movement, this time teasing him by randomly stopping, repeating the motion a few times. His moans grew louder, hips bucking desperately against your hand as if seeking more, his mouth agape and eyes glistening with despair.

"What a naughty boy," you cooed, slowly shaking your head in a false disappointment. "Were you planning on going raw with me, Jakey?" You questioned, voice low, layered with playfulness. 

Jake winced, desperation growing inside his chest, fearing you to leave him now, when he needed you the most.

"N-No..." He shook his head, “I wasn’t– I forgot, I’m sorr–” 

"Unluckily we just met.” You interrupted. “I don't know you well enough to let you do that. Right?" 

Jake nodded, though he wasn't sure if he was truly following your words. You were loving to see him falling apart so easily, almost begging for you not to leave him through his messy moans. 

His breath hitched and he almost grabbed your hand in place when you let go from his hard, red and needy cock. "P–please…" He finally pleaded, holding your waist as his eyes searched for yours in complete despair.

You quirked an eyebrow, smirking at his endearing demeanor. "Aw, you really wanna fuck me, don't you?" You caressed his cheek with your clean hand, smiling.

“I really do,” Jake whispered, moving his head just enough to kiss your palm. “Please, let me–”

“Not without protection, Jakey,” you said firmly, although with a hint of teasing, because you had a way out of that situation without harming your health.

And the said solution was inside your purse, which got tossed on the ground at some point of your initial make out session with Jake. 

Jake's puppy sad eyes followed your every motion when you moved his hands off of your waist, thinking he had messed up completely. But then he saw you grabbing your bag and taking a condom off of it, showing to him with a playful grin.

"And lucky to us, I'm always prepared, Jakey.”

You slowly approached him again, his gaze catching the alluring sight of you gently opening the packaging using your teeth, while your eyes confidently remained locked onto his, loving to see his bewildered expression.

Without a word, you slid the condom on his length, stroking it a few times before turning your back to him, bending over the counter and lifting your dress, revealing the beautiful view of your bare ass.

Jake’s firm hands instinctively gripped your hips and he positioned himself behind you while biting his lip in anticipation, the thrilling excitement boiling stronger in his cock.

He searched for your eyes in the mirror in front of you two, and of course you were already looking at him through your hungry orbs, savoring the image of Jake’s craving your body.

"Now fuck me as desperate as you seem to be."

Your words hung in the air for seconds before Jake’s mind snapped away from your tempting view in the mirror; your boobs nearly jumping out of your neckline, lips swollen but carrying the same confidence, and your eyes. Your fucking eyes. Your devilish eyes. 

“Your desire is my pleasure, Y/N.” It was all Jake managed to say with his low, husky voice, before pushing deep into you.

Your mouth fell open with the breathtaking sensation of being filled up, and Jake began to slowly pump into you, giving you a little time to adjust. Or you thought so.

You still had no idea that he was already stepping near the edge of his own release, that being the reason for his deliberate hip rolls – there was no way in hell he was going to let the opportunity of enjoying your delicious squeezes around his dick slip away that easily.

“F–fuck,” his voice cracked as he whispered. “You f–feel amazing...”

You looked at Jake in the mirror after hearing how weakly his words came out, as if he were already lost in a haze of his own pleasure. And he truly was. A soft moan escaped your lips at the sight of his head tilted back, eyes closed, and mouth slightly parted, a faint smile gracing his lips.

When a specific deep thrust hit your g-spot, you almost cried out and Jake quickly paid attention to it. Then he bent you even more on the marble counter with one hand forcing your back, to ease his access to your sensitive area and help with his movements, speeding his hips the right amount to make you roll your eyes.

“T–that’s it...” You moaned. “Fucking me so good.” You praised and Jake groaned, his hands immediately sliding to cup one of your covered breasts, massaging it while keeping his pace, eyes locked at the insanely delightful view in the mirror.

A sequence of moans slipped out of your throat as Jake started fucking you hard and fast, desperately even. How your walls clenched tight around his cock was driving him insane, and he seeked for more of that addicting feeling.

The sound of the distant music did nothing to cover the slams sounds echoing the bathroom at that point, and honestly, neither of you cared anymore, far gone in your own pleasure.

At some point your own body started to encounter his pushes into you, but it wasn’t enough. So you straightened your posture a bit, tugging Jake’s hair while looking at his eyes in the mirror – his fucked up expression sending shivers down your spine. 

“Faster, Jake.” You urged, a bossy tone dripping out of your mouth like a sweet sugar that Jake grew obsessed with. And he instantly obeyed.

Your free hand cupped Jake’s on your boob and your eyes fluttered close while you tilted your head back, lost in the amazing feeling of Jake pounding into your g-spot, a mess of moans and whimpers coming from both of your mouths. 

Since he had his eyes open, Jake watched your body quivering with his thrusts, the fucking Prada logo on your dress shining with the dim light of the bathroom, your makeup slightly smeared due to the mess. It was completely out of this world how good you looked, and the way you were squeezing his dick together with the view, sent him even closer to the edge. 

“I’m gonna cum–” He said in one go, as an eager statement, not a warning, desperate to feel his release. 

Your breath started to quicken with his erratic pace, and you fluttered your eyes open again, catching the sight of Jake’s concentrated frown and mouth agape, letting out the prettiest moans you ever heard.

You said nothing, you just tightly gripped the hand on your chest and leaded it to your clit, inciting him to rub it for you. Jake got your message, and with all the overwhelming stimulus, your second orgasm hit, mouth falling open gasping for air as you supported yourself on the marble counter, your head falling forward while you kept on feeling Jake’s deep thrusts.

You clenched involuntarily around his dick, and that was enough for him to achieve his climax as well, resting his head on your shoulder, holding you close still.

Jake moved back with a hiss, completely dizzy and fulfilled. He removed the condom and tossed it onto the trashcan before dressing himself back again, helping you to recompose since your legs were shaky.

“Thank you,” you said in a hoarse voice when he offered you your purse and your panties, to which you decided not to wear again because, well, it was on the floor.

So you cheekily pushed into Jake’s pocket without saying a word, and he didn’t even noticed, too focused on looking out for you by supporting you to keep steady. 

You turned to the mirror, fixing your messy hair and makeup as best as you could. 

“How do we get out of this bathroom now?” Jake asked after the silence, watching you re-apply your red lipstick. 

You just smiled, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek to purposely leave a mark there. “Like this.” And you simply opened the door, not even caring about the instant stares you received as you did so, Jake following your lead right behind, a small shy smile adorning his lips. 

With a last goodbye look, you parted ways, your confidence evident in your stride, and Jake fumbling to smooth down his disheveled locks, now with the acknowledgment that the devil definitely wears Prada.

[nereidprinc3ss]

lava lamp

in which spencer reid comforts gn!reader when you find yourself contending with a sudden bout of depression

fluff

warnings/tags: established relationship, reader has depression, task paralysis, spencer reid can't cure your depression but he sure can't make it worse

a/n: this is most definitely not inspired by the pink lava lamp in my room. it has nothing to do with that. extremely short and sweet, WC <800

The room is awash in hot pink. 

It’s interrupted only by dark shadows cutting lines across the floor and the furniture. The blinds are down over the window so moonlight can’t seep in—assuming the moon is in fact out now. You’re not actually sure. You don’t know how long you’ve been lying here like this, studying the soft glow of the lava lamp where it sits on the bedside table, watching the blobs of orange separate and conjoin and float around each other like they’re dancing in the suspending liquid. 

The sound of keys in the front door, of it scuffing against the floor as it opens and squeaking shut and the lock clicking back into place, inspire the tiniest spark of joy inside you. For a few moments you remain in solitude—listening to the sounds of the kitchen sink running as Spencer washes his hands, a glass being set down on the counter, the soft rustle of fabric on fabric as he takes his coat off. Maybe you have really excellent hearing. Maybe you’re just imagining the sounds because you’re so familiar with his post-work rituals. 

Finally the bedroom door opens, catching your legs in a triangle of yellow light, and sounds cease—Spencer is surely standing in the doorway, surely surprised to find you sprawled on the bed, staring vacantly at the lamp you’d purchased last winter from an antique shop. 

The door closes again, encasing you in an amnion of pink warmth once more. 

“Hi,” he says, quietly enough. 

You don’t respond. Not for a lack of affection. Just for a lack of energy, really. Spencer is used to you, and he doesn’t let your heavy mood stop him from moving to sit on the mattress behind you. The heat of his hand is a comforting weight as it finds your back, slowly rubbing up and down. There is always so much love in the way he touches you. 

“How’re you feeling, honey?”

A quiet moment passes in which you’re gathering the energy to speak for the first time in hours. Spencer doesn’t rush you. 

“Tired.”

More quiet. 

“What kind of tired?”

But he knows what kind of tired. 

“I tried to fold laundry,” you mumble, lacking even the gumption to move your mouth much as you speak. You tap the laundry basket with your toe where it sits on the foot of the bed. The laundry inside remains very much unfolded. 

“I can handle it.”

If you had any more vitality you’d say, you shouldn’t have to, you just got home from a full day’s work, I’ll take care of it—but the truth is, you can’t handle it and you can’t take care of anything—not even yourself. All you can do is watch orange bubbles float in radioactive pink liquid. 

“I don’t know what happened,” you whisper. A few tears take you by surprise as they roll down over the bridge of your nose, though your face remains stony. “I’ve been here for hours.”

Spencer’s hand remains steadfast on your back and you wish you could express how grateful you are for it and for him and for his gentle voice, always. 

“Maybe nothing happened. Maybe some days are just hard.”

You sniffle. The answer is unsatisfying, but so is life, sometimes. And you know he’s right. 

“Yeah.”

Time passes. A few minutes, maybe, of listening to your own ears ring, to the haunting frequency of the old building, of the upstairs neighbors walking around and snatches of music coming from cars on the streets below. 

“You know, I sometimes have days where I just want to lie down and stare at the lava lamp too. I think a lot of people feel that way.”

You turn your head just slightly and finally see him, cast in the soft lambent glow, smiling down at you in that unconscious, serene way, that is little more than a curve of his lip. Just seeing his face makes something in your chest unclench.  

“Really?”

The soft arch of his smile flickers momentarily wider.��

“Metaphorically speaking.”

He’s perfect. 

You reach over your own waist to grab his hand, and he interlocks your fingers, running his thumb over yours. 

Spencer knows it, but you tell him anyway. “I love you.”

He leans down and kisses you, so softly it’s like medicine. 

You know it, but Spencer says it back anyway, sweetly against your lips, heads pressed together. “I love you.”

And you much prefer this view to the lava lamp. 

[iarchmybaculaa]

18+!

Tags/warnings⚠️: Alcohol consumption, club setting, misunderstandings, angst if you squint, long haired Jungkook, Reader is a brat, angry Jungkook, unprotected sex (please do not practice that irl), rough sex, spitting!, breeding kink

Word count: 3.6k

🎧 : Sticky Rice-Lil Gnar, Reminder-The Weeknd, Party Monster- The Weeknd

For my loves: Tasara & @hobicakess 🩷

Beta’d by Shaq🫶🏾

A/N: I randomly found an edit in my gallery that inspired this whole thing. HEAVILY unedited bc I’m extremely sleep deprived rn so pls be nice!

Fic takes place about 4 years before "All mine" ! Enjoy?

Being married to Jungkook has single-handedly disproved every doubtful remark you've heard from everyone trying to convince you that it would be ill-advised to get married so young.

Contrary to what you've been told, the spark between has not died. In fact, you think that you find something new to love about Jungkook every day.

His love has never once not been intentional and gentle. You've never experienced being with someone who is so in tune with your body, with your mind, with your soul. Jungkook sees loving you as a competition; his only rival being his past selves.

There is no adventure that Jungkook would want to experience without you. There’s no bridge he wants to cross without holding your hand; no dance he wants to do without you beside him….or rather bent over in front of him as you are now.

The low lights of club Euphoria had switched to a dangerously deep shade of red, casting a sinful glow on your already ridiculously seductive face. Your eyes were low, whether it was from the few drinks you'd had earlier or the thick cloud of hookah smoke that floated around the club, Jungkook didn't know.

What he did know however, was that he had the most beautiful woman in the world throwing her ass back against him, in a dress so tiny that your cheeks were becoming more and more exposed as he thrust his hips forward to meet yours.

You move in sync with the music, your bodies in perfect harmony as the people around you become a blur. In that moment, it's just you and Jungkook. You and your husband.

You feel the cool air travel further up your legs as you dance. You reach behind you to pull your dress down, more out of habit than anything. You hear Jungkook groan as your hand ‘accidentally’ presses against his crotch, and you can't suppress the small giggle that escapes you.

It's a low sound, so realistically, Jungkook can't hear it that well over the near deafening music…But he sees the way your body shakes a bit. You shake the same way when you laugh at your own jokes or Jungkook's clumsiness; and he knows you well enough that he can practically hear the sound in his head.

Fuck he's in love with you.

He's so lucky to have you. He can't wait to live the rest of his life with you, to have a family with you, to take you home and fu-

His train of thought is cut off by the harsh vibration of his phone in the pocket of his slacks. He grabs your waist to stop your movements, and you stand upright. You raise a questioning brow at him.

“It's Namjoon hyung” he mouths, pointing to the phone at his ear.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. Namjoon had been on a work trip to London for the past few ( painfully long) weeks, and he still refuses to acknowledge the time difference. You two have grown to accept it, even if it means that he calls Jungkook at the most ridiculous (sometimes inconvenient) times.

The crackle of the receiver lets Jungkook know that Namjoon is talking, but he can’t make out a word he’s saying. Jungkook quickly realizes that he couldn't possibly have this conversation inside the club, so he gestures towards the door.

“I'm going to take this outside,” he says with his lips pressed up to your ear. “Do you want to come with me? Or will you be okay ‘till I get back?”

“I'm a big girl!” You pout up at him, pushing his glasses further up his nose with your pointer finger . “I’ll be fine, go take your call! Tell Joon I said hi.”

He nods and plants a quick kiss on the crook of your neck. He strokes the side of your face with his thumb and promises to be right back, before he turns on his heels. You watch as his head disappears into the crowd, leaving you standing alone and regrettably bored.

With Jungkook gone, you have nothing else to do since you two had come alone. You think standing around in a club like someone with a lost shadow would be incredibly lame. So you do what any unoccupied, married person in a club would do, you make your way to the bar to get a drink…or two.

By the time Jungkook gets back you're just a little tipsy.

You're not a stranger to alcohol per se, but unlike Jungkook who's been around enough liquor to know what blends would be good for you (strong enough to make you feel good, but not enough to make you lose your inhibitions); you don't know much (not enough if you ask him). You think of calling him, but your phone is in your purse… perched on jungkook’s shoulder.

So you do the most logical thing you can think of, and you order the prettiest sounding drink on the menu. Who can blame you?

You’re just a girl.

~

Two cups of Serendipity later, you're back in Jungkook's arms feeling absolutely giddy and incorrigibly horny.

The lights in the club are a dark blue now, and the music is even louder. Jungkook looks exactly the way he did when he left.

Sexy as all fuck.

Long hair tucked behind his hair on one side? Check.

Denim shirt? Check.

Tattoos? Double check.

Damn.

MINE! MINE! MINE!

You're not sure where he put his glasses, but you make a mental note to ask him before you leave. You do not need a repeat of the Geum putdwaeji Sikdang* incident. You know from experience that Jungkook and contacts don’t mix; and it would take over three weeks for them to get replaced…Not a fun time.

And right now? All you want to have is fun.

Jungkook’s mouth is moving, but your brain is moving too fast (or too slow) to read his lips and you can’t hear him. But his hands pull you toward him by the waist and you lean into his touch.

Your back is turned to his front as you move slowly against him the second you hear “she’s saying baby saenggakaji ma” float over the speakers.

Jungkook moves in sync with you as he always does, but his hands remain at your waist, almost rigid. His touch is shy and..Timid? His hands don’t trail up towards your breast, or towards your belly button. You find it odd, and downright ridiculous.

You grab his hands to take them upwards, and you’re instantly confused. There’s ink on both his hands? You pause.

When did Jungkook get a sleeve on both hands?

His lips brush faintly against your ear, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the absence of the cool metal of the rings that should be in his lip.

You don’t hear a thing except the erratic beating of your heart.

Then the inconceivable happens.

Jungkook stands in front of you, arms folded across his chest and eyes glaring at you through his glasses. The lights above you start flashing, and they bounce off his shiny, silver lip rings.

But if Jungkook is in front of you…who the fuck is behind you?!

You think you might faint.

As confused as you might have been about the situation, you knew two things for sure:

1. You needed to get as far away from not- Jungkook as possible

2. You're screwed.

Not-Jungkook seems to realize your mistake, and moves his hands from your waist so can step away from him; you rip yourself away from him as if his touch burns.

You open your mouth to say something to Real- Jungkook, but your brain goes blank.

You're too dunk for this.

Jungkook gives you a quick once- over to make sure that you're unharmed, before taking a gentle hold of your wrist. He tucks you behind him as he gives Non- Jungkook a piece of his mind.

The ringing in your ears has become so loud can't even hear the music anymore, much less their argument. Your brain feels like it's been doused in water, and you feel an unwarranted giggle making it's way up your throat. You swallow it down.

Now's not the time.

From what you can see, Real Jungkook and Not-Jungkook are having a very spirited conversation. Real Jungkook seems to be holding his composure quite well, until Not-Jungkook says something that causes his jaw to tick and his hands to form fists at his sides.

But instead of throwing a punch, Jungkook takes a deep breath and walks away, pulling you behind him.

Not- Jungkook waves at you.

You don't wave back.

Jungkook is silent as he leads you out of the club and towards your car. You say nothing as he opens the passenger door and watches as you sit inside.

“Do your feet hurt?” He asks

You shake your head at him. Still, he couches on his knees and unbuckles your heels, giving your calves a brief massage before he straps you into your seat. He closes your door and grabs a bottle of water from the back seat. He hands it to you as he settles behind the steering wheel.

“Drink.” He commands. His voice isn't necessarily angry but you can hear something bubbling beneath the surface. The restraint he's exercising is audible in his voice, and for some strange reason…it excites you.

He pulls out of the parking lot slowly, careful not to accelerate too fast so your water doesn't spill.

The fog around your brain is almost completely lifted by the time you've finished the bottle. Jungkook glances at you for a moment, and releases a satisfied hum when he sees the crumpled plastic in your lap.

He doesn't smile though.

His jaw is tense and his body is rigid in his seat. He isn't touching you and you don't like it.

“Jungkook,” you say, reaching over to touch his thigh

“Are you sure?”

You look at him confused. “Am I sure about what?’

“Are you sure I'm Jungkook?”

There it is.

You have the audacity to scoff at him.

“ Of course I'm sure it's you Jungkook. Don't be ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?! You were literally grinding your ass all over some random dude you thought was me but I'm being ridiculous?!”

Your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. You know that Jungkook has all right to be upset, fuck you're upset at yourself for making such a terrible mistake. Jungkook has all right to reprimand you, but your mouth just won't cooperate with your brain. All the brat inside you heard, was Jungkook rubbing in something that you were already very embarrassed and flustered about and it just didn't seem fair.

If you thought about it…This was all Jungkook's fault really!

“ Well it's not my fault that you look like every other Korean dude with a perm!!”

The car comes to an abrupt stop as Jungkook slams the breaks.

“Excuse me?”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms at your chest. Jungkook’s eyes flick down to where your tits are bulging, but only for a moment of course.

“Stuttering is your thing Jungkook. You heard me.”

“You’ve actually lost your fucking mind.” Jungkook marvels at you, completely in disbelief at your misplaced attitude.

“I should have bent you over my lap and spanked your ass raw in that fucking club for everyone to see… But I let you off so easy, because I knew you made the mistake because you were drunk; and this is the thanks I get?”

“No.” You quip, “I’m not thanking you in any way.”

The tension between you is as thick as it was during the first 3 months of you two flirting with each other. You were both in college, desperately holding on to the title of “study partners ” even though you kept finding yourselves in compromising positions.

You were both playing a timeless game of cat and mouse. A metaphorical tug of war. Jungkook would push and you would pull; now it appeared that you were having a rematch.

He sucks the pierced side of his lip into his mouth.

You want him so bad.

Jungkook’s eye twitches.

“You’re asking for it, you know that?” He asks, face so close to yours that you can practically taste him on your tongue.

“Give it to me then.” You challenge.

Jungkook leans forwards, and you close your eyes in anticipation of a kiss.

But Jungkook doesn’t kiss you. Instead, he sinks his teeth deep into your neck, though not hard enough to break skin.

You moan at the sting, reveling in the way his soft tongue soothes his claim.

He pulls away and runs his thumb over your lip, eyes darkening.

“Did he kiss you?” He grits out.

You frantically shake your head no.

It's then that you realize just how bad this could have truly been for you. Jungkook was right. You were getting off easy.

Jungkook pries your mouth open.

“Tongue out.” he says.

You loll your tongue out and look up at him expectantly for what you know is coming. Jungkook looks directly into your eyes as he spits into your waiting mouth. You swallow without being told to; it's almost like a reflex.

Jungkook is pleased.

“Who does that taste like, baby?”

“Tastes like you,” you reply.

Jungkook hums.

He grabs your hand and brings it over to his lap. Your breath hitches when you feel the telltale rigidness of a boner in his jeans. Your heart skips a beat as you realize how painfully hard he is.

You need him.

“What does that feel like, baby? Hm? Does that feel like me? Or are you not sure?”

You whine as he rolls his hips up into your palm. “It feels like you Jungkook, I want it.”

Jungkook’s face contorts into one of mock contemplation.

You hate when he gets like this, when he pretends to consider giving you what you want when you both know it's not going to happen.

"You want to know what I think?" he muses rhetorically.

"I think I've let you get away with a little too much lately. I've always told you that your mouth is going to get you in trouble, but I've never made good on that promise, have I?" He chuckles darkly. "Maybe it's time I change that, hm?”

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest and you feel a shiver of anticipation zoom down your spine.

“Unzip me.”

Your body is in autopilot as you undo his zipper and lean forward to take him inside your mouth.

He pulls you backwards by your braids, and brings his hand around your throat.

“You're gonna take me in your mouth and you're going to keep it there until we get home.” He growls out at you

“No licking, no sucking, no moving. By the time we get home I'll be tattooed so deep in your fucking brain that you'll never mistake someone else for me ever again.” he bites out.

But in true Jungkook fashion he brushes his lips gently against yours, then he shoves his dick down your throat .

The ride home is filled with the obscene noises of you trying not to choke on Jungkook's cock.

Your eyes are watering and your nose burns from how hard you've been breathing through it. Your chest feels hollow and your jaw aches, but you're too fucked out to care.

Jungkook's cargo pants are thoroughly soaked from the way your saliva has dripped all over him. You're sure it's beginning to get uncomfortable for him to sit like this: cock hard and throbbing and in your warm, wet mouth. Yet, he sits perfectly still; unmoving.

His breaths come out in slow, controlled gasps, and it becomes exceedingly clear to you that It's taking as much effort from Jungkook not to snap his hips upwards and fuck your throat; as it is for you to not give him an actual blowjob.

The realization is absolutely riveting.

When Jungkook pulls into the driveway of your flat, he lifts your chin up , and his dick slides out of your mouth with a wet plop.

You both try to catch your breath, chests heaving and hearts thumping. Jungkook tucks himself back into his pants, and takes a deep breath before he gets out of the car.

Like the gentleman he is, he walks over to the passenger side of the car and holds your door open for you. But when you don't make any efforts to get up, he bends down and looks expectantly at you.

You pout at him and point to your feet.

You're barefoot. Of course.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, grabs you by the waist, and tosses you over his shoulder. You squirm a bit, and Jungkook promptly delivers a warning slap to your ass which settles you completely.

He opens the front door and kicks it shut behind him, waiting until he hears the security alarm activate before he moves towards your bedroom.

He tosses you on the bed and flicks the light on. Your chin is slicked with spit, you tits are spilling out of your dress, and the curly hair in your braids are sticky to the thin sheen of sweat on your face.

You look a mess.

A hot, beautiful mess that Jungkook made. His pride swells, along with another part of him.

Jungkook turns his back to you as he takes his shirt off.

“You know I love you right?,” he asks, putting his glasses on the nightstand. He tosses his shirt onto the ground and walks over to the bed. “You know that there's nothing in the world that could ever make me stop loving you?” He asks, now face to face with you as he strokes your chin.

‘I do,” you reply, your voice comes out more of a whine than you actually want it to.

“That's great baby, because this is going to feel like I fucking hate you.”

***

You both cry out when Jungkook finally slips inside you.

You've come to accept that no matter how many times you've taken him, how many times you will take him you'll never not be taken aback by the way his cock stretches you.

The lights are on, and so you can see Jungkook in all his glory. You can see way his biceps bulge and the way his abs tense. You the way his face contorts as your pussy practically suffocates him.

“ You like what you see baby?” He taunts, “had to make sure that you can actually see who's fucking you hm? Wouldn’t want you to make another mistake now would we?”

He spits the word out as if it pains him to say, and translates that pain into a vicious snap of his hips that has you lurching forward, clawing at his chest.

His thrusts are all the same. Carefully calculated and deliciously hard. His tips brush against your gspot with every fluid movement of his hips, and all you can do is whine and beg.

At one point Jungkook slows down to a torturous pace. Pulling out of you the moment he's just shy of your gspot. You can't handle being teased, you won't. You decide to up the ante.

“Jungkook,” you moan out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he grinds into you “please make me cum daddy”

Jungkook freezes and his hips stutter.

You've never called him that before.

For a moment you regret letting it slip out of your mouth. That's until you see the crazed look that comes into Jungkook's brown eyes.

He wraps his hand around your throat and starts pistoning his hips into you.

“Daddy huh?” He grits out as your juices start leaking down your thighs and unto the skin of his stomach “ is that what you want baby? Wanna make me a dad? Hm? Maybe that way people will keep their fucking hands off you huh?”

“Jungkook please!” You scream, tears pooling in your eyes from how desperately you want the sweet release you've been denied.

“You gonna let me put a baby in you princess? Gonna let me stake my claim on you for everyone to see?” He demands as he stills to a stop inside you.

“Fuck, Jungkook yes! Please I'll do anything you want just please!” You cry

Jungkook finally drives his cock upwards, it's curved head hitting your gspot at the perfect angle. Your orgasm rips through your body so violently that you sink your fingernails so deep into Jungkook's bicep that you break skin.

You cum in spurts, coating him in a thick sheen of your arousal. Jungkook cums with you, no longer being able to resist the pleasure that your body was bringing him.

Jungkook's cum spills out of him in a long, steady stream. You feel the warmth as it seeps inside you, and you clench around him reflexively, determined to keep all of it inside.

“You wanna have my babies so fucking bad.” Jungkook mumbles into your hair, voice hoarse and laced with fatigue.

And do, you mean to say, , though it never actually comes out of your mouth.

Instead, you hug jungkook to your chest, legs wrapped securely around his waist as sleep consumes you.

Fin.

[changbunnies]

Angel of Music (18+)

♡ Pairing: Phantom!Minho x Opera Singer Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: phantom of the opera inspired au, horror themes, dark romance, age gap, smut, dead dove? read the warnings carefully and come to ur own conclusion on what you're willing to read before engaging pls :'), the ending is also a lil dark, sorry!

♡ Word Count: 5.8k

♡ Summary: A phantom exists in the opera house– he controls every production from the shadows, lurks around every dark corner, always watching. In your dreams exists an angel– a guardian that sings to you, guides you, and comforts you. When The Phantom appears before you in your dressing room mirror, you begin to realize that he and your angel may be one in the same.

♡ General Warnings: slightly less extreme age gap than the source material that inspires this fic but it's still fairly large (reader is ~mid 20s and minho is ~40), briefly described attempted murder of minor characters, implications of stalking, hypnotism, hallucinations + doubts of reality, so much usage of the words "phantom" and "angel" it's not even funny, this fic is not an accurate representation of how hypnotism works irl but it's fiction so i'm taking liberties!

♡ Smut Warnings: dubcon (due to reader being hypnotized), additionally to not being in their proper state of mind, there are also moments in which reader does not feel to be in full control of their body, light dom/sub dynamics, soft pleasure dom!minho because i want more of him !!, mask kink (does it still count if the mask doesn't cover his whole face?? idk i hope so!), some biting, oral (f rec), overstim, multiple orgasms

♡ Notes: i've known for ages that i wanted to write a phantom!minho fic, and my kinktober series gave me the perfect reason to finally write it! also the fact that both my uploaded minho fics are age gap romances?? that was not intentional i swear lmao

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

All inhabitants of the opera house have been on edge these days– consequence of the new owners of the Opera Populaire, who decided to disregard all of The Phantom's demands.

The Phantom, as the name suggests, is a ghost story of sorts. According to your castmates, he has been here since long before you joined the Opera Populaire's trainees last year, but his activity has begun to increase since your arrival.

He controls all in the opera house, and his demands of the previous owner were always quite simple; perform what shows he instructs you to, follow his casting down to the letter, and keep the seats in Box Five free at all times. Evidentially, Box Five is his favorite place to watch the shows from– and sometimes, his dark silhouette can be spotted in the shadows of the booth, indiscernible but unmistakably there.

No one has ever truly seen The Phantom beyond a shadow, nor have they heard him speak. He communicates with notes, always left within feet of the recipient without anyone having seen him come or go. His notes will even appear in broad daylight, with not a single person having caught a glimpse of him despite all the eyes in the room.

Well, more accurately, no one has seen him apart from the Madame– an older woman who used to be a performer for the Opera Populaire herself, but has taken the role of choreographer since her retirement from the stage. In the 15 years it's been since The Phantom made his presence known to the opera house, she's the only one who's ever seen him, or heard his voice.

A brief encounter, she explained when asked about it– had barely seen him for more than a few passing moments. He spoke little, but the beauty of his voice was striking, completely unlike any other she’d ever heard. And all he asked of her, in that fleeting moment, was to remember that the Opera Populaire is his home– and as long as the inhabitants respect him, he'll respect them in turn.

The previous director, the Madame, and The Phantom all had a mutual understanding of what was to be done. As long as they listened to him, shows would go off without a hitch; but refuse, and there'd be dire consequences. As such, the Madame has been doing her best to express the importance of listening to The Phantom to the new owners.

The Monsieurs view it as no more than silly superstition– every opera house has their own beliefs and customs, things they consider good and bad luck before a show, things they view as omens of a show's future success. The Phantom is simply one of those things– and with a guiding hand, they can dispel such superstitions, show the cast and crew that there is no shadowy phantom to fear.

The first note left for the Monsieurs went disregarded– a barking laugh leaving the elder of the two before he tossed it in the bin. The instructions on the note were clear enough– you were to take the role of Eurydice in the opera house's production of Orpheus and Eurydice, and not Carlotta, as they originally casted.

You were just as baffled as everyone else to learn that The Phantom wanted you to take such an important role– you'd only been here a year, were still so new to your opera training. It's true enough that you have a good voice, and your dancing has improved with all your diligent practice, but you're still young, and the tragic role of Eurydice is not so easily performed.

Natural talent for bringing emotion to performance aside, you lack stage experience– experience that you can easily gain from background roles. To make you such a crucial stand-out role after only a year of training was simply unheard of– no opera house would do it!

This is to be your first production, your first time on stage in front of an audience; and so regardless of what The Phantom wants, Monsieur Reyer opted to keep you strictly in the supporting chorus roles, where you would go from shepherdess, to nymph, to spirit as the acts progressed. Not a glamorous, shining position in the cast by any means, but more than enough to help familiarize you with the reality of performing with hundreds of eyes watching.

It wouldn't take long for The Phantom to make his displeasure with the decision known. And what started off as just small accidents and stage mishaps quickly turned violent and dangerous as each week passed with you still not given the role that The Phantom felt you deserved to have.

The first violent turn came during rehearsals for Act 3, right in the middle of Eurydice's climactic aria, when the chandelier above the stage came crashing down. Carlotta was standing directly beneath it just before it fell, and it narrowly missed her– purely because she happened to take a few steps forward whilst singing.

“An unfortunate accident,” the Monsieurs said, “it had nothing to do with The Phantom!” But the veterans of the opera house knew better– and the conductor swore he saw a dark shadow on the scaffolds just before the chandelier fell; a shadow that could belong to none other than The Phantom.

Carlotta screamed as it crashed just mere inches away from her, right where she's just been standing, and cried as everyone rushed to her side to ensure that she was unharmed. Again, the Madame tried to persuade them to heed The Phantom before another such “accident” occurred.

"Good God in Heaven, you're all obsessed! These things just happen sometimes– there is no phantom!" Reyer cried in exasperation over everyone's insistence, still unwilling to give in to the idea that the opera house's ghost was real.

And tonight, just after rehearsals came to a close, another terrible stage accident occurred– this time happening to Monsieur Reyer himself. He was up on the scaffolding when it happened, making sure all the stagehands properly rigged the lights in preparation for tomorrow night's premiere of Orpheus and Eurydice.

He was bent down, inspecting the bulbs and wires, when a dark figure appeared behind him. The shadow wrapped a noose around his neck faster than anyone could even react, pushed him off the scaffolding before swiftly retreating back to the shadows.

Reyer almost didn't survive– he was lucky that the nearby stagehands were quick on their feet and in their wits, managing to grab his arms and pull him up while another cut the rope that served to hang the poor man. And as if the message from the accidents alone weren't clear enough, another note was left behind right in the middle of the stage.

It was astounding, really, that not a single person saw The Phantom leave the note behind– and while some could argue that it was because all eyes were on Reyer, or because the stage became chaos as they worked to save him, the Monsieurs realized that maybe they should start to believe that there really is a ghost inhabiting the Opera Populaire.

The moment the note was noticed, the Madame picked it up, and read it aloud for all to hear. "Again, I remind you that Y/N will play the role of Eurydice. As I instruct, Box Five shall remain open for my use. These seats will not be used by another. This is my final warning– disregard at your own risk."

Realizing they had no choice, lest they wish to continue putting themselves and other cast and crew in danger, the Monsieurs begrudgingly declared you the new Eurydice, right then and there.

Given that you're at every rehearsal, you know Eurydice's lines by heart, and are confident that you can sing them well– but still, you're nervous. It's your first production, the premiere is sold out, is set for tomorrow night, and suddenly you're in one of the most pivotal roles in the entire opera.

You don't even understand why The Phantom is so adamant about giving the role to you; what is it about you that he likes, what is it that he sees in you? You wish you could ask the Madame, but she met him so fleetingly, and so many years ago– she has no way of knowing The Phantom's heart beyond an educated guess.

Sitting before your dressing room mirror, you sigh, utterly exhausted– now that you're Eurydice, it was vital that you do a last minute costume fitting and makeup test. As such, you've been in the opera house hours past the time you'd normally be here. The moon hangs high in the sky now, you're sure; you wonder if you should just spend the night here, sleep in the dressing room instead of making a late trek home.

Regardless, you hope your angel comes to you tonight. You know no one would believe you if you told them, but you really do have a guardian angel; and in your dreams, he comes to you– always when you are most lost and in need of guidance. He's a gentle, calming presence; always comforts you, talks to you sweetly when you're filled with self doubt, sings to you in the most beautiful of voices.

You've never actually seen your angel clearly– only heard his voice calling your name and whispering, singing, in a way that could only be described as angelic in its serenity. In your dreams, he's nothing but a vague, blurry image– even at his most clear, you can't define any of his features.

Still, you think of him fondly– and you suspect that as an angel, you aren't meant to be able to fully perceive him. And your angel always, always, knows when you need him– you suspect that even now, he's waiting; waiting for the moment you fall asleep, so that he can come to your side.

You look at yourself, still dressed as Eurydice. A beautiful, off shoulder bateau gown in the prettiest, purest ivory. There's lace appliques throughout the gown, has a beautiful cinched bodice before the tulle skirt fluffs out. It's elegant, makes you feel like a bride waiting to walk down the aisle.

Your makeup shimmers– extra glitter applied on your eyelids to make sure the stage lights catch it. Your jewelry too, is extravagant– made to sparkle and shine every time a light shines on you, to twinkle with each subtle move you make. It's a shame you have to take it all off just to put it all back on tomorrow– but the effort to make sure everything fits you was necessary.

You reach your hands up to one of your ears, prepare to remove one of your dangling earrings when you hear a voice you know all too well call your name– your angel's voice.

You look around the room, bewildered, but see nothing and no one. And surely you were mistaken– you're still awake! Your angel only comes to you in dreams, and you haven't fallen asleep... right? You are still awake, aren't you?

Again, you hear his voice, another whisper of your name. You rise from your chair, look around the room once more– no one. You turn back to the dressing room mirror, and jump in surprise, realizing that the view reflected in it has changed. You no longer see yourself, or the reflection of the dressing room around you– instead, you see a man.

He looks just as the Madame described her memory of The Phantom– dark hair, and even darker eyes, with a white mask that covers the right half of his face. Not completely– just from his hairline, down to his pretty, plump lips. Every inch of his skin is covered, head to toe, all of his clothes pure black apart from the ornate red vest.

Sleek boots and dark trousers, a tall collar that obscures most of his neck, long sleeves that cover his arms, even gloves covering his hands. He wears a cape, long and as dark as the rest of his clothes, and it blows behind him as if there’s a breeze rolling through.

You’re confused, a little frightened, but you can’t tear your eyes away or will yourself to flee– and as the figure speaks your name, you gasp; he truly has the voice of your angel. But he’s The Phantom, isn’t he? 

The blurry, vague scenery behind him begins to sharpen, coming more distinctly visible to your uncertain eyes. A dark corridor full of candelabra, glowing in dull yellows and shades of orange, held by incorporeal hands with no discernable origin.

What little of your dressing room you see in your peripheral shifts and warps as you stare at him, blur together into dark shadows as the table holding your hairbrush and makeup begin to fade and disappear, leaving the view through the mirror as the only thing you can see.

The figure– your angel, The Phantom?– holds his hand out to you through the mirror, as if the glass that should separate you no longer exists; perhaps it doesn't. Smoke– or maybe fog, mist? you can't be certain– pours into the room as you approach the mirror.

As if under a spell, you reach out to take his hand, thinking not of logic as you follow the beckoning call of your name. Your angel; you trust your angel. He smiles as you place your hand in his, and carefully, you step through the mirror, into the corridor.

Entranced, you stare at him; even with half a mask covering his face, he's utterly beautiful. He appears to be older than you, hints of fine lines beholden around his mouth and eyes, and even that adds to his mysterious charm. He holds your gaze as he takes a step back, a candelabra in his hand now, beckoning you to follow him down the corridor.

You squeeze his hand as you follow, and finally he turns around, walks with purpose as he guides you, glancing behind every so often to look at you in what you think to be adoration. You too, glance behind– and where the mirror once stood is now a desolate, barren wall.

You do not see any hint of your dressing room, or of the mirror you stepped through. And as you continue further down the corridor, the candelabra that were once behind you slowly begin to blink out and vanish from sight, leaving only pitch black darkness behind. A spiral staircase made of stone manifests, and you descend it, hand in hand with your angel.

You're so enchanted and bewildered, you can't seem to find your voice– all you can do is follow, let him guide you along to where it is he wants you to be. Even the staircase dissipates when you've finished descending, and for just a moment, you wonder– is any of this truly real?

Finally, you stand in the middle of a beautiful room, lit candles both resting in more candelabra and strewn about the floor, with dark, intricately woven tapestries hanging from the stone walls. There’s a grand piano, sleek black with gold accents, with even more candles resting atop it, as well as a sheet of music sitting pristine on the music desk, black ink seemingly freshly dried, just waiting to be played. 

There are several mirrors, though only one remains uncovered– the rest are obscured by cloth, for reasons you do not know. There is a bed, in what you suppose would be called a “corner” in this otherwise circular space, inviting and plush in its appearance, with blankets colored a rich red. Naturally, candles surround the bed as well, covering it in a beautifully soft, yellow-orange glow. 

“Where are we?” you finally find your voice to ask, and the man smiles as he beckons you to follow him towards his bed. “We are home,” he replies, and though it’s a strange answer, you feel you understand– yes, you are home. This is home. 

You gaze at him curiously after you sit on the bed, just as comfortable as you expected it to be, and he mimics the way you’ve tilted your head at him. “You’re.. My angel, aren’t you? Or are you The Phantom?” you ask, and the man laughs ever so softly, melodious and beautiful. 

“I am Minho,” he responds, as if that alone is a sufficient enough answer– in a way, you suppose it is. What else is there to know? He is Minho. That is enough.

“I have longed to touch you, to bring you here,” Minho whispers as he reaches one of his gloved hands to your face, strokes your cheek slowly, gently. The sensation, though simple, feels so tender– it sparks something inside you, fills you with a warmth you’ve never felt before. You close your eyes, bask in the comfort his touch provides you. 

You feel his hand move, travel down until his fingers are under your chin. He tilts your head up, and you open your eyes to see him gazing down at you warmly. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers, speaking to you as gently as he always does. He’s said it before, in your dreams– that you are beautiful, talented, deserving of all you wish to have.

He never lets you linger on self-doubt, never allows you to think you are lesser than someone else, or undeserving of the opportunities you’ve been granted. Your angel knows you– you think he’s appearing to you now, like this, because he knows you are uncertain of playing Eurydice; he must think that he needs to remind you of just how special you are. 

All of your doubts about tomorrow’s premiere– he will dispel them from your mind, as he always does. He kneels before you, gazing at you carefully as he inches closer to you, his hands softly rubbing over your shoulders and down your arms. His attentive stare as he caresses you makes you breathing quicken, your heart starting to pick up speed.

“Do you trust me?” Minho asks suddenly, and with not an ounce of hesitation, you nod. You’ve no reason not to trust him– in the year it's been since your angel first appeared to you, you’ve always trusted him. There is no one else that makes you feel so secure, so at peace, so.. Loved, cared for. Yes, your angel, Minho, loves you, cares for you like no other. You trust him. 

“I wish to clear your mind of worry and doubt– to make you think only of me, and the music we can make together. I wish to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you," he says, and oh, he knows he shouldn’t be pouring his heart out like this, for it’s too soon, much too soon. But he’s been enamored with you since the first moment you stepped into the Opera Populaire, has been infatuated with you since first hearing the passion in your voice.

He can’t help it, it seems– now that he has you here, in his lair, his defenses falter, all of his desires pouring out of him. To have you here, and to touch you like this, even so simply– it’s everything he’s wanted. And instantly, unconsciously, you reach out to him. Your angel sees you, knows you– you wish to know him too, to understand him the way he does you.

Your mind is somehow as clear as it is hazy– clear, because you know what it is that you want. Regardless of who he is, what he is, you want Minho to have you. Anything he wants, you feel compelled to give, as if it’s all you know; and in this moment, perhaps it is. In the very back reaches of your addled mind, a reminder blares– The Phantom always gets what he wants. 

And what he wants now, most of all, is you; and despite what logic may tell you to feel, you trust him to have you. He sees all that you feel in your expression alone, knows all that you think as if he’s seen into the depths of your mind. Even now, perhaps more than ever before, he sees you. 

Sees all that you are, and all that you want– and a charming smile plays on his lips as you gaze at him with wanton desire to let him take you. To let him have, to give yourself over– you wish to offer yourself wholly to your angel’s desires.

Your eyes flutter closed as he kisses you, a soft press that you could almost call chaste, his hands slowly moving over your body, each soft touch lingering. You don’t feel his gloves anymore, you realize– did he take them off without you noticing? You suppose it doesn’t matter– his hands are warm, a bit rough and calloused against the soft skin of your arms, and you like it.

Even as his kisses become less chaste, deepen as his hands travel to your hips, they remain slow and purposeful. His hands eventually find the bottom of your dress, begin to lift it ever so slowly up your thighs– not to expose you, but so that he can slot himself between your legs. Somehow, innately, you understand this– and easily, you spread your legs for him, allowing him to find his place between them.

His arms wrap around you after, pulling you closer, pressing your body to his. Your chest is rising and falling rapidly by the time he pulls away, breathless as you look to him with eager, impassioned eyes– a gaze that heats his otherwise cold heart. You reach up, bring your hands to his face; he nearly flinches when you touch his mask, though he knows you mean no harm. 

Minho feels himself ugly under his mask– too scarred and disfigured to be appealing to you in any regard; at least like this, with only the good parts of his face on display, you may find him handsome. Your touch is as soft as your gaze, and though perhaps you should, you make no move to remove his mask; you simply rub your thumb over the cold porcelain.

It’s a vulnerable thing, really– how softly you touch his ugliest spots. It doesn’t matter that you can’t see them from beneath his mask– the tender regard you seem to feel for him, even without having seen the scars that mar him, is more than enough. It’s ironic, in a way, that you seem to think he’s an angel; in reality, the only angel in this room is you. 

“I want to please you, if you'll let me,” he breathes as his fingertips ghost over your thighs. It makes your breath hitch, blinking at him slowly as you process his intent. There is much your angel wants– but chasing the pleasure of his own flesh isn’t one of those things. He doesn’t need it to feel satisfied; your pleasure will more than suffice him.

His dark eyes bore into yours as he awaits your answer, can tell from his wanting gaze how serious he is about pleasing you, and it makes your cheeks slowly bloom with heat. And it’s not just what he wants– it’s what he needs, really; when you surrender yourself to him, he wants it to be for your pleasure, not his own. 

“Oh, please– touch me,” you answer, plead– because something from deep inside you screams for it, wanting it beyond all comprehension. Your darkest, most innate desires manifest for him; desires that you didn’t even fully realize you had. They possess you, drive you to kiss him again, urgent and passionate. 

Minho returns your kiss with equal fervor, lets his tongue slip past his lips to meet yours. They share a dance, swirl around each other until you’re breathless again; and then he’s guiding you back, urging you to lay down as he hovers over you. He pulls the skirt of your dress further up your body, until your thighs are entirely exposed and he can see your dampening panties. 

He lowers himself to you, but doesn’t go immediately where you expect him too– he takes his time trailing wet, lingering kisses over your thighs instead. Your inner thighs are sensitive, ticklish, and you can’t help but squirm from each kiss he grants you.

You also can’t help but jolt each time the cool porcelain of his mask presses against the hot skin of your thigh, and again when he carefully sinks his teeth into your pliant flesh. He doesn't do it hard enough to hurt, or even fully leave indents of his teeth behind– just enough to leave you panting and squirmy; and he lets out a soft, airy laugh every time he succeeds in the endeavor. 

Your bunched up skirt is so full that you can hardly even watch him work you up; but there are times, while kissing and biting over your trembling thighs, that he lifts his head just enough to let you catch his gaze. It makes your heart skip a beat, butterflies dancing in your stomach every time he locks eyes with you while kissing around where you need him most.

You reach a point where you’re no longer squirming because his attention tickles, but because you’re becoming desperate, impatient; and the way he stares at you as he does it all doesn't help in the slightest. “Minho, please,” you whine, shameless; and you can feel him smile against your skin before he lifts himself up from his place between your legs. 

“Needy are we, angel?” he asks, grinning as you pout and nod. “Need you,” you mumble, but he hears you loud and clear; he’s attuned to you, your angel is. He lowers himself between your thighs once more, kisses your pussy over your panties– and it’s not quite what you need, but it’s enough to have you gasping and quivering. 

Again, he takes his time, as if not a single ounce of urgency resides within him. And make no mistake, it does– but Minho knows how to restrain himself. He’s a stubborn man, that is certainly true, but he’s also perfectly in control of himself; for now, anyways. 

And he likes the way you whine for him when you feel his tongue lick you up over the fabric of your panties. It’s not a full enough feeling for you, or a full enough taste of your pussy for him, but the desperate, whiny sounds it draws out of you are delicious enough to satisfy him.  

Still, while he’s enjoying the way his soft kisses and kitten licks over your panties is making you writhe and cry for him, he also can’t deny how badly he wants to finally taste you directly on his tongue. He’s been patient enough, he thinks, and so have you– why not indulge just a little sooner than planned?

In contrast to how sweetly he’s treated you up to this point, he’s quick to tear your panties away from your body. The sound of the fabric ripping makes you gasp, and maybe later he’ll apologize– but for now, lapping his tongue between your folds is of more importance. You moan when his tongue finally meets your bare pussy, as does Minho– and despite the hunger that he feels, he continues to lick you over slowly. 

The languid pace makes you crazy– you want more, so much more, but your angel has been waiting for this; he needs to take his time with you, needs to embed the taste of your dripping sex on his tongue, needs to make sure it’s something he’ll never be able to forget. And he isn’t trying to tease you by keeping the slow pace– well, maybe he is a little; he does enjoy it, after all– but he’s sincerely craved this for too long to let the moment quickly pass him by. 

He brings his hands to your thighs, squeezing them in his hands and preventing you from closing them around his head. You’re sure it’s partly so he can keep you spread out for him, to keep enjoying the easy access to your pussy, but it’s also so that your trembling thighs don’t cause his mask to shift, and fall from his face. 

You gasp when the cool, smooth and rigid porcelain covering the right side of his nose bumps your clit as he shoves his tongue into your hole. And while he isn’t purposely trying to get you to cum just yet, his slow but diligent ministrations are getting you there regardless– with his tongue dipping in and out of your heat, always pushing in as deep as he can make it go, and his mask-covered nose nudging your clit. 

You let your head fall back against the bed, your every high pitched whimper and moan echoing off the stone walls surrounding you. You try to tell him you’re going to cum, but you fail miserably– all that leaves you is a quick succession of whines before your eyes are rolling, back bowing off the bed as release on his tongue. Minho moans with you, hums happily as he licks the mess from your pussy like the cat that got the cream. 

He laves over your clit when he’s done licking up your cum– and it's sensitive, swollen from your orgasm; but that doesn’t stop him from swirling his tongue around it, and positively knocking the air from your lungs. The sensation is overwhelming, he knows it is even without you telling him, but it’s still so good that you don’t want to squirm away, or ask him to stop– or perhaps you can’t. 

You get the distinct feeling that even if you tried, your limbs would resist, would fight to keep you in place– despite your best efforts, you would remain just as you are now. Spread open and trembling, exactly how Minho wants you. “You make the prettiest music, angel,” he separates from you long enough to speak, “want you to keep singing for me.”

And sing for him you do when he dives back in, flicks your clit with his tongue a few times before wrapping his lips around it, sucking it like a piece of hard candy. Your moans, the smacking sounds of his lips, the way he hums when he returns to your hole to collect the cream– it’s an orchestra, just for the two of you.

You cum again in record time, of course you do. Minho finds it cute, the way you incoherently babble away as you let go for him again. And he isn’t done just because you came again– no, he’s far from finished with your pussy. He doesn’t tire in the slightest, ceaseless in the way he lavishes with you his tongue and suckles with his pretty, perfect lips. 

When you cum for the third time, you don’t even know if you truly ever stop cumming at all– the pleasure just keeps coming in waves, never fully receding before it builds again, washing over you like a tsunami before it all repeats. You writhe and twist, back repeatedly bowing off his bed before falling back, but your thighs stay spread for him, even when his hands stop holding them down. 

His hands have found their way beneath you, cupping and squeezing your ass as he eats away. Your hips wriggle, and he helps grind you up against his face, moaning and humming all the while. It’s too much and not enough all at once; your body screams that it can’t take it, and yet your mind screams that it needs more, and God, you can’t think straight– but is there any point in this night that you were?

You’re hot and heaving, sweat dripping from your brow as you tremble and bend. Minho is hot too, of course– his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, his face red from his cheeks to his ears, and even down his neck. And were you not so far gone, you’d have noticed that his mask has shifted and fallen from his face. 

It was because of you, too– when another high took you and tugged on his hair hard, crying as your hips jolted and bucked against his face. He should’ve swiftly put it back on, lest you see his scars, but he didn’t– he just shoved it aside, against his better judgment, so he could keep licking you up without interruption. 

You feel positively delirious by the time he’s finished, eyes heavy and bleary, body utterly limp and boneless. He crawls his way up to you, and your gaze is unfocused, blurry; you can hardly distinguish his features anymore– similar to the way he always appeared in your dreams before now.

Regardless, you smile at him before you close your eyes; a weak, but content one that Minho finds oh so endearing. You’re beyond fatigued, but also feel an unmatched sense of elation as your angel strokes your head and whispers sweet nothings for you to fall asleep to. “You belong to me now,” you hear him say, just before you drift off– and you know it’s true. 

You think, perhaps, you’ve always belonged to him. From the very first moment Minho saw you, he knew he was never going to let you go. And just as Orpheus had done for Eurydice, he’d gladly walk into the depths of Hades itself if that’s what it took to keep you by his side. 

He gently caresses your cheek as you fall into a deeper sleep, presses a soft kiss to your lips and whispers a final soft utterance of love before he covers you with a blanket, and your mind goes completely dark for the night. 

You wake the next day with a struggle– at least, you think it’s the next day; it’s too dark in the room you’re in to tell for certain. You reach out for Minho, but don’t feel him anywhere– and as you sit up, and your eyes adjust to the darkness, you realize that you are alone. Your brows furrow as you look around; you’re still in his room, but it doesn’t look quite the same. 

There are no candles, not on the floor or in the candelabra that now lie empty. The tapestries adorning the walls are torn and dulled in color, the piano dusty and the gold decorating it chipped. The sheet of music that sits on the piano’s music desk, that last night looked so fresh and pristine, now appears weathered and yellowed.

As you grab the blanket to pull it off you, you realize it isn't a blanket at all that is covering you, but a cape– Minho’s cape. And on the bed, just an arm’s reach away from you lies a note– the same kind that The Phantom always leaves behind inside the Opera Populaire.

Your hand trembles as you pick it up, eyes straining to read it in the darkness. The message he leaves behind, when your eyes focus on the words well enough to read them, is quite simple. “To my beloved and beautiful Eurydice; welcome home.”

[is-the-thing-actually-jewish]

is Jewish Voice for Peace actually Jewish? I've heard a couple different things about that but no sources

@gryphistheantlerqueen also asked:

Whooo boy. So this has been sitting in the inbox for a few months, I wrote up a draft, and then it just sat... until this past week, when some new JVP BS hit the fan and gave me the kick to finish it.

Sooooo...

Verdict: Not Actually Jewish

(updated verdict after finding out about the “self-managed conversion” and “teacup mikvah”) Jewish, technically, and that "technically" is doing a lot of heavy lifting, and is actively debatable without access to a detailed breakdown of JVP’s actual membership rolls. 

In general summation, JVP is a far-left radical antizionist group that is headed by a few visibly antizionist Jews and whose membership rolls are either a strong minority or outright majority of non-Jews, based on variable statistics that they've released. Although they claim that the “majority of their members and staff are Jewish”, this seems to be both statistically unlikely and actively suspicious due to their noted tendency to instruct even non-Jewish members to speak #AsAJew on social media, and their instructions to do “self-managed conversions”.  However, due to their title, they are very popular with people who want a Jewish Stamp Of Approval for demonizing Israelis and Zionist Jews as a result. In effect, they are Jewish in the same way that people like Candace Owens and Hershel Walker are Black—as self-tokenizing minorities who throw the rest of their ethnic group under the bus in exchange for power and political access.

And despite the claims that they are “inspired by Jewish values and traditions” (as put on their website) and “oppose anti-Jewish hatred,” JVP routinely engages in antisemitic rhetoric, up to and including blood libel and antisemitic conspiracy theories, and acts as a shield against non-Jews who also engage in antisemitic rhetoric so long as the non-Jews in question remember to shout "For Palestine!" first. This is not an exaggeration. 

The primary example of their in-house antisemitic rhetoric is their "Deadly Exchange" program, where they explicitly and conspiratorially blame Israel as being responsible for American police brutality and militarization. However, for all of their fearmongering and blame-casting on the subject—as if American cops needed outside help in brutalizing minorities or gaining military-grade handmedowns from the Pentagon, both of which are explicit claims of the "Deadly Exchange" program—they have a hard time actually identifying specific deaths associated with the international training seminars they're holding up as responsible.

One of the the closest they've come to a specific allegation is claiming that "former St. Louis County police chief Timothy Fitch trained with the Israeli military three years before Michael Brown’s killing and the Ferguson uprising." (Note: this was in a video that appears to have since been made private.) But Darren Wilson worked for the Ferguson PD, not the St. Louis PD, and Fitch retired months before the killing. So he was in a completely different police department, and this is the closest JVP comes to pointing to specific deaths or acts of brutality that they blame on Israel. Everything else is literal fearmongering--up to and including the classic conspiratorial tropes of "secretive Jewish governmental influence".

JVP has also happily supported the words of white supremacists like Richard Spencer, taking his “You could say that I’m a white Zionist in the sense that I care about my people," statement at face value, using it as the basis for entire articles where they compared Zionism to White Supremacy as a deliberate misrepresentation of the ideology that is common on the extreme political Left (you can compare that treatment again with how Candace Owens treats the word "Woke" on the Right). Even when the Charlottesville "Unite the Right" march happened, JVP wasted no time in comparing Zionism with the very ideology fueling the people chanting "Jews Will Not Replace Us," saying that Zionism is "Jewish racial supremacy" and calling for a universal condemnation of the ideology as a form of White Supremacy... which was the exact sort of message that many of those same White Supremacists would have happily agreed with.  So JVP is essentially siding with literal White Supremacists,  even as they claim that "Jews are not the primary victims of White Supremacy."

JVP also engages in Holocaust revisionism, such as with this lovely quote from Cecilie Surasky, the deputy director of JVP, “I believe it is critical to situate the genocide of Jews in a broader context, and not as an exceptional, metaphysically unique event. Some 6 million Jews died, but another 5 million people were also targeted for annihilation.”

(another quote, from an article by Surasky, which compares Netanyahu to Hitler.)

This is just straight revisionism of the entire Holocaust and the unique fixation the Nazis had on the Jews. Literally, even when they were losing, they were diverting resources from the war just to kill more Jews. Quote Hitler himself, "Jews must be prevented from intruding themselves among all the other nations as elements of internal disruption, under the mask of honest world-citizens, and thus gaining power over these nations." The very basis of the Nazi ideology paints Jews as an existential threat to the human race's peace and security—a far cry from JVP's claim that the Jewish suffering in the Holocaust wasn't unique or exceptional.

Additionally, JVP ignores or re-envisions Mizrachi Jewish history. They call the very term Mizrachi “Zionist rhetoric,” and refer to Mizrachi “immigrants,” (“Deadly Exchange,” pg. 16-17), and claim “the Israeli government facilitated a mass immigration of Mizrahim” (“Our Approach to Zionism”) as though those weren’t the direct result of the mass expulsion of and violence against Jews in MENA countries. These weren’t immigrants, these were refugees. 

And as for the question of “Are they Jewish?”, well...

Statistically, they are not representative of the Jewish population as a whole, 90% of whom identify as some degree of Zionist in the sense of “Supporting Jewish self-determination.”  One does not need to be Jewish to join JVP, as they proudly state on their website. Their membership rolls are also extremely obfuscated, and the fact that they encourage their followers, whether Jewish or not, to post and speak “as Jews” on social media makes it even more difficult to figure out what percentage of their membership is actually Jewish.  Furthermore, they have instructions for their members to engage in “self-conversions” that are not acceptable to Jewish law or tradition, and misuse/appropriate other sacred Jewish traditions to the point that “blasphemy” is an accurate description, with their instructions on the mikvah (a sacred bath) being outright offensive.  

(note that one has to be completely nude and bare of any adornment or makeup to use the mikvah, which is a pure pool of collected rainwater to be immersed in, for context on the above... misuse.  Trying to claim this as being “in line with sacred Jewish tradition” is like trying to claim to be Catholic while also saying that the Pope is the Antichrist and that using beer and a doughnut for the Eucharist is acceptable. For more information on mikveh, see: The Jewish Virtual Library, Aish, myjewishlearning, or Chabad.

There's also no altar.

The irony of asking people not to appropriate while doing this is astonishing.)

It’s also telling that they straight up say they are “claiming” the practice as their own.

Furthermore, JVP has hosted panels on “antisemitism” in the past... headed by people who are not only not Jewish, but who have been credibly accused of antisemitism in the past.  

JVP has also endorsed The Mapping Project Boston, which was a Boycott, Divest, and Sanction (BDS) subsidiary, listing every “Zionist” organization in Boston, Mass. This included Jewish schools, elder homes, community centers, disability centers, and more; all of them painted with scary and misleading “links” to non-Jewish organizations to insinuate Jewish control of the state and city governments, invoking age-old antisemitic tropes of a conspiracy of Jews as they did so:

(first image is the Mapping Project, the second is a 1938 Nazi political cartoon)

The Mapping Project also, and this is my personal favorite, accused Harvard University of doing “racist science” for engaging in archeological and genetic studies of Jews and Jewish history.  Tellingly, BDS actually disavowed The Mapping Project (albeit for bad optics, not for the rank antisemitism they were promoting)... but JVP has not, even though the Mapping Project’s entry for the ADL reads as follows:

Masquerading as a “civil rights” group, the ADL is a counterinsurgency and espionage organization whose mission is to protect the mutual interests of the US and Israeli governments, and to eliminate solidarity among oppressed peoples, especially concerning Palestine. The ADL spies on and criminalizes activists (using its connections to governments, police, schools, and corporations) while undermining their work by pushing its own state-sanctioned, pro-“Israel” agenda. And while the ADL claims to represent Jews and to fight “antisemitism” on their behalf, the organization has supported anti-Jewish state violence and sanitized Nazis. The ADL cannot be reformed: it must be dismantled and whatever resources it has should go towards repairing the many harms it has done. (Emphasis added.)

Of course, JVP has also engaged in similar conspiracy-toned antisemitic dogwhistles, such as this fun bit from their first Deadly Exchange video:

So clearly (to me at least), they have no problems with The Mapping Project’s tone and presentation.  

And this isn’t even going into JVP’s routine promotion of blood libel, their egregious double standards, their approving of pogroms, their active support for Hamas terrorists and demonization of Hamas’ victims, their attempted revisionism of Jewish history, their abject rejection of Jewish culture, and their other actions that show not just bias, but outright hatred for 90% of the world’s Jews.  

As one commentator put it, JVP as an organization is very much like Autism Speaks is to Autistic people--a thinly disguised hate group that views the people they’re supposedly speaking for as the problem, and themselves as promoting the Solution.  To this moderator, they’re the equivalent of the Association of German National Jews, who were also known as the Jews for Hitler; they wanted to abandon Judaism and embrace Naziism... and they got sent to the gas chambers anyway.  

Mod Joseph

Sources:

www.adl.org/resources/backgrounder/jewish-voice-peace

www.jewishvoiceforpeace.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/Mikveh-Guide-for-Jewish-Voice-for-Peace-Outlined.pdf

(and also just... a general experience/exposure to them on social media, where even the most progressive actions taken by Israel, such as the recent ruling regarding queer Palestinians being able to claim sanctuary in Israel, being labeled as “pinkwashing”)

[pinkberryfox]

My loves, it’s a little inspired, and maybe a little dialogue-y, but here we go with part 2! Thank you for all your support on Part 1 <3

Part 1

Traumatized! Levi Headcanons 2

SLIGHT SPOILERS

-Levi who shivers when you kiss his scars, soothing away the painful memories for far more pleasant ones

-Levi who dreams of a peaceful life with you one day- hopefully when the titans were gone, and he could open a tea shop, start a family and give you the luxuries you deserve

-Levi who just about loses it when you get severely injured on an expedition, casting blame on himself (and on you for breaking protocol)

-Levi who can’t even look you in the eyes for days after because he keeps imagining you dying. It's not a punishment, your wounds are enough, he just keeps seeing it

-Levi, who when you confront him about it, can’t stop himself from yanking you against his chest and hugging you so tight it hurts

-Levi who says, “You’re not allowed to die on me. Not you.”

-Levi who doesn’t let go until you promise to be more careful, until you reassure him you'll stay alive, that what he sees in his nightmares isn't real. That your flesh is warm and your heart still beats

-Levi who is so relieved when you leave the Survey Corps for him he almost cries. He peppers you in the softest kisses across your face and hands and he thanks you over and over

-Levi who visits you before expeditions for courage, to remind himself who this is for. Who tucks you in and watches you sleep for a while, because here you're safe

-Levi, who proposes to you one night when he’s holding you after a hard mission. It’s just a simple question while he strokes your back and murmurs in your hair, there’s not really extra fluff to it, but he means it with his whole heart

-Levi who has the most radiant smile you've ever seen when you say yes, whose expression is so hopeful and warm it stirs your soul

-Levi who believes he might be dead when he sees you again on the battle field with the beast titan’s turned soldiers using borrowed ODM gear because you PROMISED you’d stay safe, and what is this?

-Levi who is both extremely PISSED OFF and thoroughly grateful you have his back, grateful he isn't alone in this massacre, but can't decide between scolding or praising you first. He goes with scolding

-Levi who shouts your name and says, "You reckless fool, who do you think you're trying to save?" But then says, "Watch your back and keep up."

-Levi who is shocked speechless when- DURING BATTLE- you ask him to marry you?!

-Levi who clicks his tongue in disapproval but agrees to your proposal anyway because why not?

-Levi who says “Is this why you came? Your timing is absolute shit-don’t even have a damn priest.”

-Levi who rolls his eyes when you tell him you don’t need a priest to make a vow to God and each other. You can get married again the right way if you survive.

-Levi who kind of likes the idea of marrying you twice.

-Levi who gives his vows WHILE he’s destroying the beast titan

-Levi who says, “Was hoping I’d get to lift a veil, but I guess blood-matted hair fits us.”

-Levi, who after ripping the battered body from the nape, mutters, “We have a witness. Was I impressive enough to kiss my bride?” But he doesn’t really wait for Zeke’s answer.

[spicymancer]

Is Beck's design at all inspired by Amity from The Owl House? The design of the hair is extremely similar

The short answer is yes! But it took a bit to get there! So when I decided I wanted to make a cast of Fighting Game characters I decided to gather some of my favorite designs from the genre as a starting point.

Top left: Striker (DNF Duel), Bottom left: Cammy White (Street Fighter V), Middle: Chun Li (Street Fighter Alpha), and Right: Ramlethal Valentine (Guilty Gear) From there I started a few doodles. (Colors picked straight from Ramlethal Color 11)

Early versions lacked The Hairstyle that she'd eventually get. I really liked Adora's pompodour/ponytail thing in She-Ra so I went with that but with a bit of a messy bobcut along the sides.

It was around this time I think that I saw Amity Blight in Owl House who had a similar hairstyle to Beck from the jump, but I really liked how they did simplified roots and I decided to steal that for Beck. It adds a bit of visual interest and I thought it would be useful to emphasize that Beck is not a natural blonde.

So yeah! There's a peek behind the curtain of my character design process! Hope y'all dig.

[susiephone]

wtf is dracula daily?

i’ve seen a couple people ask this question on my posts about it, so i thought i’d go ahead and clear it up here!

ok so, the classic horror novel “dracula” is an epistolary novel - that means it’s told via letters, diary entries, ship logs, and news articles. (technically the term “epistolary novel” refers to works told solely through letters or emails, but many have expanded it to mean any work that is told via in-universe documents, hence why diaries and logs often get included as well. “frankenstein” is another classic example; the whole framing device is robert walton is recounting the story he heard from victor to his sister via letter. a modern example would be “several people are typing,” which is told via slack messages, or “the perks of being a wallflower,” which is told via letters from charlie to his anonymous pen pal, which is functionally more like you’re reading his diary.)

because of the nature of the narrative, we actually know the exact day nearly everything in dracula happens - the letters, news articles, diary entries, etc. are all dated.

“dracula daily” is a substack project where the novel is broken up into parts, with people who are subscribed to the project getting emails every day something in dracula happens - for example, the novel opens with jonathan harker’s journal entry on may 3, so on may 3, subscribers are emailed that entry. the action of dracula takes place from may 3 - november 6, plus an epilogue set some years later. the project started in 2021 (i think), but fucking BLEW UP in 2022, and they’re doing it again this year! lots of us are very excited - especially people like me who fell behind last time.

why not just read the book?

valid! due to some parts of dracula being told out of chronological order, dracula daily does reorder some things. for example, the first section of dracula is told entirely from jonathan harker’s pov, then the second section switches the pov to mina murray. their sections have some overlap in the timeline, so dracula daily jumps back and forth between their perspectives.

if you want to read the book as bram stoker intended, dracula daily may not be for you. but for a lot of people (myself included!), it breaks up a very long text into easily digestible chunks (....mostly. there is one entry that is 10k words), and the fact that it’s a big project means there are a lot of people reading along with you.

i think there’s also something valuable about experience the slow revelation of wtf is going on along with the characters. the book which you might otherwise get through in a few days is stretched out into months of suspense and agony as you wait for the other shoe to drop, and it’s great.

plus, the whiplash between “jonathan harker’s neverending horror” vs “lucy is basically on the bachelorette” that you get in dracula daily is very very funny.

how do i sign up?

right here! and if you sign up and fall behind in the emails, no worries - the dracula daily website posts past entries so you can catch up.

what if i prefer audiobooks?

have i got great news for you!

like i mentioned before, i couldn’t keep up with the emails last year. part of it is that it is much easier for me to focus on an audiobook or keep up with a podcast than it is for me to sit down and read, especially with longer entries.

this year, there is going to be a podcast titled “re: dracula” that was inspired by dracula daily. every episode will be a dracula daily entry, with a full voice cast! (seriously, if you listen to british podcasts, you will recognize some of these names. the magnus archives and wooden overcoats girlies are WINNING.) you can find that here.

there is also a podcast called “cryptic canticles” that has an already-completed audiodrama of dracula that i’m told is also extremely good, and was also broken up by date. you can find that here.

why do i keep hearing about paprika/the boyfriend squad/lizard fashion/cowboys?

you’ll see.

oh god am i gonna hear about this nerd shit for the rest of the year

yes. sorry.

[lesbiansforboromir]

Inspired by the Hunt for Gollum 2 day fiasco (I suppose it wasn't really a fiasco, genuinely happy they came to such a quick resolution, I will give it to them), I noticed a bunch of people said they'd never heard of the Hunt for Gollum fanfilm and was surprised! So here are some more tolkien fan films on youtube that you can watch right now! A friend of mine coalated all of these for our server and we binged them all, which was a really great time and I would heartily recommend.

Obviously, first; The Hunt for Gollum, a 40min shortfilm pretty much entirely about Aragorn, you guessed it, hunting gollum. But there's also a few neat interactions with other characters too and the production is of an extremely good quality for what it is.

Then you have Born of Hope, from the same company as hunt for gollum, this one focuses more on Arathorn and Gilraen's relationship and Aragorn's tumultuous birth. It's very depressing but I also really liked the casting of Arathorn and is worth a watch.

Horn of Gondor is a short 20min fanfilm with a pretty inventive premise, focusing on Borondir's in-universe fabled ride to deliver Steward Cirion's request for an alliance with the ancestral rohirrim to Eorl their king, thereby saving Gondor from defeat. I find it a little lacklustre and it doesnt really measure up to it's concept but the attempt is still admirable and there is some real and clear passion behind it so still worth a watch.

Wings Over Arda is, gonna be honest, my favourite one of the lot. It is an hour long and extremely ambitiously attempts to feature events from Tuor's meeting with Ulmo, to the attack of the Sons of Feanor upon Doriath. It essentially fails to live up to the auspicousness of any of these things, but it is EXTREMELY earnest and the casting for Dior in particular is now just burned into my brain. It feels kind of like it was made in the 1980s too which I just love for a film that came out 2 years ago. It's really fun, give it a go.

One of the Seven is more of a hobbit movie fanfilm, referencing PJ's Thranduil backstory of losing his wife and the hunt for her jewels, but also involving dwarves and elves bickering over unspecified rings. It has the brightest colour pallette of all the films which is a visual relief and all the costumes are really detailed, mainly because I suspect this was made my cosplayers who just had some time on their hands. It's fun and campy and only 25mins so fully digestable, even if it's a little dwarf-ist.

Lastly there's The Peril to the Shire, even though cards on the table I have not watched this one. It is three hours long and was made by a bunch of homeschooled children somewhere, featuring entirely child actors and about Rosie Cotten defending the Shire pre-scouring. From what I've seen, the kids are having a great time doing it, but the audio is also really hard to hear clearly so this is more of a challenge than a suggestion.

[sagewritings]

Grace and Arrogance - James Beaufort x Fem!Reader

pairing: james beaufort x fem!reader

synopsis: amidst playful bickering, the dynamic between you and james transforms from turmoil to bliss when james sheds his facade of arrogance to reveal hidden admiration.

word count: 2.1k

warnings/tags: mentions of a car accident, fluff with james beaufort

a/n: hello everyone! it's been a while since my last post because i haven't really had any inspiration and time over the past months but after watching maxton hall last week, i just couldn't help but write! ! i wrote this in like an hour on my notes app so it may seem a bit rushed but that's okay :>

if you’d like to check out my other works, you can check the pinned post in my blog :>

i hope you’ll like this fic! happy reading!

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Being a regular visitor at the Beaufort estate has familiarized you with every corner of the house. Now, you have memorized every room and decoration, immediately spotting whatever is newly added. The Beauforts didn’t mind your presence, with your family being close friends of theirs.

But it was not the Beauforts' son who you were particularly fond of.

You were extremely close with Lydia, your best friend since childhood. Despite both of you coming from wealthy backgrounds, your upbringing was notably different. Your parents owned a chain of hotels and restaurants across Europe, but they insisted on raising you humbly, teaching you the value of hard work and modesty. This upbringing made you see through the arrogance often displayed by James, Lydia's brother.

James, with his confident smirk and air of superiority, was someone you couldn't stand. Your encounters often led to playful bickering, a routine everyone at Maxton Hall was familiar with. But behind your teasing, there was an underlying respect for each other, one neither of you would openly acknowledge.

One sunny afternoon, you found yourself in the Beauforts' expansive garden, your favorite place to unwind with Lydia. She was lounging on a chaise, flipping through a magazine, while you were engrossed in a novel. The peace was soon interrupted by the sound of footsteps.

"Well, well, what do we have here? The ladies of leisure," James's voice drawled, cutting through the tranquility.

You looked up, ready to retort. "And here comes the lord of arrogance. What do you want, James?"

James smirked, leaning against a nearby pillar. "Just enjoying the sunshine. Is that a crime?"

"Only if you're planning to cast a shadow over our peace," you shot back, not missing a beat.

Lydia chuckled from her seat. "You two are impossible. Can't you ever have a conversation without turning it into a fight?"

"It's not my fault your brother is insufferable," you said, closing your book and standing up to face James.

"Insufferable? That's a new one. What else do you think about me, Y/N?" James asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Do you really want to know?" you challenged, stepping closer.

"Absolutely," he replied, his gaze locking onto yours.

Before you could respond, Lydia interjected. "Okay, enough, both of you. Can't we just have one afternoon without the bickering?"

You glanced at Lydia, then back at James. "Fine. But only because Lydia asked."

James shrugged, a smug smile on his face. "Whatever you say, Y/N."

Despite your frequent clashes, there were moments when you couldn't deny James's charm. Like the time he helped you with a school project, his intelligence and wit shining through in a way that caught you off guard.

You were in the library, struggling with a particularly difficult economics assignment. The sound of approaching footsteps made you groan inwardly. Of course, it had to be him.

"Need help, Y/N?" James asked, looking over your shoulder.

"I can manage, thank you," you replied curtly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of admitting you were stuck.

He pulled up a chair next to you anyway. "Let me see."

You sighed, sliding the paper towards him. "Fine. But no gloating."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said with a wink, scanning the problem. "Ah, I see the issue. You're overthinking it. Here, let me show you."

For the next hour, James patiently explained the concepts, his usual arrogance replaced with genuine enthusiasm for the subject. By the end of it, you had to admit he was a good teacher.

"Thanks, James," you said, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips.

"Anytime, Y/N," he replied, his expression softening.

Despite these moments of truce, your dynamic remained largely unchanged. That is, until the day you stopped going to your classes in Maxton Hall without warning. Lydia knew the reason but couldn't divulge it due to your parents' wish for privacy. This secrecy, however, only fueled James's concern and curiosity. Despite your clashes, he had always admired your kindness and humility.

Days turned into weeks, and your absence left a noticeable void. James found himself more worried than he cared to admit. His irritation grew, not just because you were gone, but because Lydia refused to tell him why.

James sat in the library, his usual spot, staring at the empty chair across from him. It felt wrong not having you there to challenge him, to banter with him. The silence was suffocating.

"Where is she, Lydia?" James demanded, cornering his sister in the hallway.

"I can't tell you, James. It's not my place," Lydia replied, her expression firm yet sympathetic.

"You know something, and you're keeping it from me," he accused, frustration evident in his tone.

"Trust me, if I could, I would tell you. But I can't," Lydia insisted, turning away.

James ran a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. "You don't understand, Lydia. I need to know she's okay."

"She is. That's all I can say," Lydia replied softly before walking away, leaving James standing there, his mind racing with worry.

He spent sleepless nights thinking about you, imagining the worst scenarios. Had something happened to you? Were you in trouble? Each passing day without any news felt like an eternity, and the worry gnawed at him incessantly.

The mystery was finally revealed during a dinner at the Beaufort estate. As you and Lydia's parents chatted, the conversation inadvertently turned to your family. James listened intently as they discussed the car accident that had left your father seriously injured. You had been absent to take over the family business in his stead, juggling the responsibilities of an heir with the pressures of high school.

"It was such a terrible accident," your mother said, her voice tinged with worry. "He was lucky to survive, but the recovery process has been grueling."

James's heart sank as he listened. The image of you, strong and resilient, dealing with such a massive burden alone, tugged at his heartstrings.

"Y/N has been amazing," your father added, his voice filled with pride and concern. "She's stepped up in ways we never imagined, taking on the business and keeping things running smoothly."

Lydia's parents nodded sympathetically. "She truly is remarkable. We can't imagine the pressure she's under."

James felt a pang of guilt and a surge of determination. He admired you even more for handling such immense pressure with grace. The next day, he decided to visit you.

You were in the midst of preparing for a business meeting when James arrived at your house. The sight of him surprised you, and your initial reaction was to push him away.

"James, I don't have time for this," you said, frustration evident in your voice as you shuffled through papers.

"I'm not here to argue," he replied, stepping closer. "I'm here to help."

You looked up, skepticism in your eyes. "Help? How?"

"I know how to run a business. Let me support you," he offered, sincerity in his voice.

You hesitated, the weight of your responsibilities making you wary. But the genuine concern in his eyes made you relent.

"Fine. But don't think this means I like you," you muttered, turning back to your work.

James chuckled. "Wouldn't dream of it."

He stepped forward, his presence steadying you as you felt the weight of everything crashing down. You fought back tears of exhaustion, the stress overwhelming you.

"Y/N, let me take some of this off your shoulders," James said gently, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

"I… I don't know if I can trust you," you admitted, your voice trembling. "You've always been so… unserious."

James's expression softened, his eyes filled with understanding. "I get it. I've been a jerk, but I care about you. More than I let on."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. "Why now, James?"

"Because I admire you. Your strength, your kindness. You're handling all of this with such grace, and I want to help you. Please, let me," he pleaded.

Your defenses crumbled, the exhaustion and stress finally taking their toll. "Okay," you whispered, the word carrying the weight of your vulnerability.

James stepped closer, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. For the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to lean on someone else, to share the burden.

Over the next few days, James proved to be an invaluable ally. His expertise in business management eased your burden, allowing you to balance school and work more effectively. The more you worked together, the more you saw a different side of him—one that was caring and dependable.

James took on tasks with a surprising efficiency, his usual arrogance replaced with a dedication that impressed you. He handled meetings, reviewed contracts, and even helped streamline operations, all while providing a steady source of support and encouragement.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you both found yourselves sitting in the garden, the stars twinkling above.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" James asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

You laughed softly. "How could I forget? You spilled juice all over my dress."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I was so nervous. I wanted to make a good impression, and I ended up making a mess."

"I thought you were a spoiled brat," you admitted, smiling at the memory.

"And now?" he asked, his gaze locking onto yours.

"Now, I see someone who cares deeply about his family and friends. Someone who hides his true self behind a facade of arrogance," you said softly.

James's expression turned serious. "And I see someone who is incredibly strong, even when faced with immense challenges. Someone who inspires me to be better."

The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity. Before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was gentle, tentative at first, but quickly deepened as you both poured all your unspoken feelings into it.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you met his gaze and saw the same vulnerability mirrored in his eyes.

"I've liked you for a long time, Y/N," James admitted. "I just didn't know how to tell you."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I guess I like you too, James. Even if you are insufferable sometimes."

He laughed, pulling you into another kiss. The garden seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment.

The days turned into weeks, and with James's help, you managed to stabilize your family's business. His presence became a constant source of support and comfort, and your feelings for him began to shift.

Returning to Maxton Hall, you and James surprised everyone with your newfound camaraderie. The playful bickering was replaced by a growing closeness that neither of you could ignore.

The fundraiser ball at Maxton Hall was an annual event where everyone dressed in Victorian-era attire. This year, you and James were assigned to fix the lights, a task that allowed for a rare moment of privacy.

"Careful with that, Y/N," James warned as you reached for a particularly tricky bulb.

"I've got it," you insisted, balancing precariously on a ladder.

James steadied the ladder, his hands brushing against yours as he helped you with the light. The proximity made your heart race, a tension building between you that neither could ignore.

As the last bulb clicked into place, you turned to thank him, only to find him closer than expected. His eyes locked onto yours, the air thick with unspoken feelings.

"James…" you began, but he silenced you with a gentle touch to your cheek.

"I admire you, Y/N. More than you'll ever know," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could respond, he closed the distance, his lips capturing yours in a tender kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you met his gaze and saw the same vulnerability mirrored in his eyes.

"Can we try this?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

James smiled, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "I'd like that very much."

As the evening wore on, the lights you and James had fixed illuminated the grand hall, casting a warm glow over the attendees. You stood together, hand in hand, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

[letorip]

i heard your name [ii]

“i want you so, i can hardly let you go, please be mine for a time, now and forever”

===+++===

pairing: cairo sweet x reader

summary: after several weeks of trying to run in the opposite direction, you find you can no longer evade the magnetic pull yanking you towards her

warnings: explicit but gender neutral sexual content, being used both physically and emotionally, 'lover boy' is used ironic and is still considered gender neutral, implied teacher-student relationships

word count: 6.4k

A/N: definitely making another already because it’s kind of getting juicy. again inspired by pale fire and hot summer nights.

===+++===

You had always heard that people looked like their pets, but it had never occurred to you that someone could look like their house. Standing in front of Lovell Hill, it was impossible anyone else but Cairo Sweet lived there.

The building stood tall, with white towering ionic columns that reached to hold up the dark clay tile roofing like soft angelic hands lifted to the sky. Everything about the house was big, with a giant, wide cedar porch and a towering balcony that looked out over the small garden in front of its door.

You had figured Cairo was well off from her clothes and general overabundance of education, but this screamed a wealth so extreme it almost wasn’t computing in your brain. Not with your own tawdry house that had only been built two years ago and was about the size of Cairo’s home if you sliced it by a quarter.

You had seen homes like these in movies or on the home improvement channels. Most motels had the home improvement channels on the TV, and you had watched with a sense of awe, sitting on the mouldy carpet late at night with your mom asleep behind you, looking at the muted tours of the homes with a private envy.

Such grandeur was incomprehensible and didn’t exist beyond the screen and TV magic. Or, that’s what you thought until you stood at the end of her garden, with all its greenery and a few lines of flowers, looking up at the front door.

It was quite the dilemma, to knock or not to knock. You could turn around right now, save yourself a whole bunch of sleepless nights and half a brain if you just told her you felt sick and had to cancel. She’d be annoyed, sure, but maybe Cairo being angry was better than Cairo being hungry.

You weren’t all too sure you wouldn’t try to satiate her hunger, and that was a dangerous game to play. Since she had sat down beside you in class, fleeting had been slowly drifting away, and you found yourself clutching onto what little of it you had left, rebuking the witchcraft that seemed to tug you to her.

You were about to do that, walk away, but then the door to the balcony swung open, and out Cairo came, leaning over the railing with a smile, and you felt your own heart clutch to your ribs. She propped her head up on her palm, peering down at you.

“Are you coming in?” She asked, laughing. “You’ve been standing there for ten minutes.”

“I’m just looking. At the landscaping,” you called up to her, and it was mostly true, though Cairo laughed like you were being funny. You felt a blush rising to your cheeks. Fleeting, you idiot.

“It’s my parents’ house. I know it’s a bit much,” said Cairo, standing up straighter.

“A bit?” you said, the sarcasm worming its way into your voice. It was a lot much.

“Yeah,” she replied, smiling at you again all bright. “A bit.” You smiled back, holding a hand up to cover your eyes so you could continue to stare at her on the balcony in the sun, like your own Juliet.

“Can I come inside?” You asked, taking a few steps forward into the shadow the roof of her house casted over the ground. Cairo seemed to find a playfulness with the question, and you were left there like a moron, wondering why she was laughing again.

“No, actually,” she said. “I invited you here to make you walk over here and then walk home.”

“Did you."

“I did,” she nodded, having fun. “I’ll be down in a minute when I’m done with something; the front door is unlocked."

"That seems unsafe," you said.

She raised her eyebrows at you. "Why, are you worried for my safety?"

You shrugged, deciding neutrality was the best policy. There wasn't anything wrong with saying you were worried about her as a friend, but you knew she would draw some strange entendre. "I would worry about random people wandering in, to be honest."

Cairo shook her head. "Not here in Tennessee. Now go inside. The longer you stall me the longer it takes me to finish what I'm doing." With that, she disappeared back inside, leaving you on her porch. You swallowed the lump in your throat and went inside.

Cairo Sweet's house was much like her soul, in grandeur and in wealth. Even in the foyer, which was where you found yourself, the walls seemed to reach up much like the pillars, raised towards the covered sky. A grand staircase led up to the second floor, and with the soft closing of the door behind you, Cairo called out from up the stairs.

"You can go into the kitchen, I left some wine out on the counter."

You blinked. "Wine?" You said back, making sure you were hearing correctly. Cairo's laugh floated down from the second floor.

"Yes, 'wine.'" You had never had anything like wine before, though the way she threw it out so casually made you think she was no stranger to the concept.

The kitchen was the room right off to the left of the foyer, with a large bay window and some checkered ceramic tiling on the floor. In the centre sat an old gas range stove, a similar shade of green as the walls. The brass handle curved down to the drawer on the bottom, and it looked like a droll little mouth underneath the knobs.

On the white marbled countertop that boxed the stove in was a set of two glasses and a bottle of reddish wine that was three quarters full. The entire room was immaculately clean, with the perfectly angled chairs sitting around the nook table in the corner and the utterly spotless surfaces, both floor and table.

It looked just like those staged houses on the home improvement channels, and you wandered over to peer into the glass hutch, which was piled up with books in stacks around it. The top cabinet held an array of glassware, some of them gathering dust. They were pretty, and you leaned in to the ceramic ones with antique designs etched into the sides. You wanted to own dishes like those, someday.

"The plates are pretty, aren't they? It’s a real shame about the led.” You spun around to find Cairo behind you. Your heart immediately started doing a backflip in your chest. Cairo was no longer in the soft shirt and shorts she had been wearing on her balcony— no. Instead, she was now in a silky cream-coloured dress, one that clung to the curves of her body and hung elegantly from her shoulders in a way that made the tips of your ears warm.

She walked right up to you as if there was no difference, staring at the plate you had been looking at with what couldn't possibly be a genuine curiosity. Up close it was clear she had put on some makeup, her lips glossy and pink and her eyes dark. She had to know she was playing you like a fiddle.

You watched her in laser focus as she nodded at the plate. "My parents bought that one from a village in the Swiss Alps."

"What?" you mumbled, clever as always.

"The plate," she said, like it was obvious. "Most of the plates in there are from Switzerland or China."

"Oh...cool."

Cairo brushed past it, gesturing back to the bottle that sat on the counter. "Would you like some?" she asked, clasping her hands behind her back.

"But what would your parents say?" you asked. Mostly you were looking for any excuse not to, but you were also filled with curiosity. Cairo Sweet hadn't just fallen out of a coconut tree— she was the product of whatever her parents were like and you desired to put two and two together, and for that to make it make sense.

"They're not here right now," she replied, walking right over to the bottle and pulling the cork straight out. You swallowed but followed her over, and Cairo grabbed a glass to pour it into.

"So you live here?" It was a genuine question, and part of you was still struggling to understand that this was just someone's everyday lifestyle. Cairo nodded.

"That's what Winnie asked me too, when she first saw it. People say my house is haunted."

"They do?"

"Yeah," she said. "Lovell Hill. It's famous, or at least around here it is."

"Well... is it true?"

Cairo shook her head. "Sorry to disappoint. Only thing that lives here is me."

"And your parents?"

Her mouth thinned into a line at the question, but she spoke quickly. "Yes, them too." Then Cairo held up a glass. "Would you like some?"

"Uh, no thanks. We should probably start on the assignment...," you trailed off. Cairo was staring you down with a certain glint in her eye. “What?”

"You've never drank before," she said. It wasn't a question, and you could feel heat going back to your face. To any other person, you'd have no problem saying no, but to her you felt your breath catch in your throat.

"Uh, I have, I just don't want any right now," you lied. And Cairo knew you were lying, judging from the smile she watched you with. But she only shrugged.

"You can have some of mine later, then," she said, straightening up and walking out of the kitchen. You followed her like a proper guest, like she was a tour guide helping you through the jungle. You warily tailed her out of there and up the stairs.

On the landing there were even more books, in large, towering stacks near the railing, ended on each side by potted plants and small floor decorations. You stopped, taking a thick paperback from off the top of one stack and turning it over to read the back. “Have you really read all of these?” You asked. Cairo turned.

“Not all of them, no. Most of them belong to my parents, so they’re cheesy spy thrillers and soapy romances.”

You nodded. “My mom reads those ones too.”

“Anyways, what do you read?” Cairo asked, walking over to you and taking the book from your hands to look at it herself. You shrugged.

“For a while there, anything I could get my hands on.”

She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"Uh, just that my mother didn't take me to bookstores a lot," you said, having gotten comfortable with lying. In reality, you had mostly read travel books and magazines from gas stations, since those were really the only places you and your mother stopped often. You didn't start actually reading book-books until you were about ten, and your mom bought you a kindle for your birthday.

But giving Cairo the truth would mean telling her you were on the road a lot, which would mean telling her about why it was you moved so often, which would mean telling her you would probably be leaving soon, so you lied. It was typically a better idea to vanish without warning one day, off to another state like you had been one giant bad dream.

"Mm," she hummed it agreement, putting the book back down and leading the way into a door that stood at the far end of the hall. "My parents didn't either, when they realised I bought like ten or twelve at a time," she said, tugging you into her bedroom.

It was exactly like you could have imagined it, with a darker shade of green and ebony wainscoting that matched the grand bed in the middle of the room with fluffy, lush bedding and a near mountain of pillows in the centre.

"Well then," Cairo drawled. "Shall we?"

The smirk she was staring at you with sent a shiver down your spine. You gave her a cautious nod and pulled your backpack off of your back.

===+++===

You had your paper almost completely done within an hour of laying down on Cairo's bed to write it, though in the corner where Cairo sat typing hers, she seemed incredibly frustrated. You had only been observing her a little, watching her type what could've maybe been a few words and then immediately holding down the delete key until they were all gone.

You understood to a certain extent— windows were so unbelievably symbolic it was possible to go in millions of directions when writing your story. But you were almost done, and inspiration had hit you from the moment you knew what your symbol was meant to be.

You put the final finishing sentences in where they were meant to go, and put down your pen, sitting up to crack your fingers and stretch your back. Cairo looked up at you, eyes glaring.

"You're finished?" Her tone was sharp, and you looked around the room in surprise.

"Yeah?" You replied. Cairo narrowed her eyes at you.

"How," she demanded sitting up in her chair and slamming her laptop shut.

You shrugged. "I don't know, I kind of rushed it anyhow."

"Let me read it, (Y/n)," Cairo said, holding her hand out. You leaned forwards and tossed the paper to her, rolling over onto your back to stare up at the ceiling while she read it. She had one of those popcorn roofs, with bumps all over it, and you found yourself tracing a little path in your mind.

"This is..." she said after a few minutes. You turned your head to look at her sideways. "This is really good," said Cairo, but in a way that made your eyebrows furrow.

"Why'd you say it like that?" you asked, sitting up from where you had been laying.

"Like what?" She asked standing up from her chair and walking towards you, to lean on one of the bedposts. You swallowed.

"I... don't know," you muttered.

"Hm," she hummed. "I have a question."

"Yeah?"

"The astronaut. The one who goes crazy in outer space from looking out the window on his solo mission. Is that supposed to be you?"

"Oh. No, he isn't. He's just a character I thought of," you shook your head. Cairo raised an eyebrow at you.

"But he is a lot like you, isn't he? Alone, I mean. That's why you lied to Winnie about lunch." She got you with that line. You stared at her, frowning. Your mind screamed LIE over and over, but you knew there was no point. Not when she was reading you like a book. She took another step towards you, until she was standing in between your legs where you sat. You hadn't realised there was any connection with the astronaut when you thought of him, but maybe he was?

"Are you lonely, (Y/n)?"

"No? I mean, I don't think I am." It came out in a whisper; you didn't need to speak loudly when Cairo was so close. You could feel her hot breath on your cheeks like a fan.

"I've been thinking of you, since you arrived," Cairo murmured. Her fingers crawled up your knee slowly, the pads of her fingers brushing the hem of your shorts. She looked down at the small space between you.

"Yeah?" You asked.

"You're captivating," she said. "It's annoying. Shrouded in mystery and answering to no one."

"Yeah?" Pink was flushing towards your cheeks.

She smiled, looking up at your face again. "Yeah. It would be less distracting if you didn't come with such nice eyes."

You swallowed. It felt like everywhere her fingers went she left behind a trail of pure fire, churning up your insides. Your mind was screaming at you to not be an idiot. You'd probably regret this in a month or two when your mom told you you would be leaving again. Stop, right now and save yourself so much sleep, you idiot. That would've been the smart thing to do.

Her hands came up slowly, skimming gently up your neck until they landed at the nape, and you were reminded of the lollipop she had plucked from your lips to place in her own for a moment.

"Cairo, what're we doing?" you managed. Cairo shrugged.

"You ask me that but I'm not entirely sure. I just know it feels nice," she whispered to you. "So shut up and let me feel nice," she said with a smile.

Within an instant, her lips pressed hard into your own. You pulled your head back in surprise but Cairo's soft palms held you firmly where you sat, and you found yourself melting at the feeling. It was messy and it wasn't graceful, but it spoke of the passion that bubbled under Cairo's removed exterior. She started to move against you then, and you against her.

You found yourself entranced at the sensation, and pulled away just to get a look at her face. She was breathing heavily, lips red and eyes wild, and you only came back wanting more, reconnecting the both of you, your hands moving to her waist and then up her back.

"Cairo..." you mumbled, her lips moving to your jaw and then hastily to your ear.

"Mm," she hummed.

"Cairo, I can't," you managed, trying to pull away but finding her still on you. Your mind was yelling at you horrible, horrible things, not only about yourself but about what you wanted to do to her.

"Mm," she sounded again, moving down your neck in a way that left you tingly.

"Really, I just—"

"Take my hands off of you, then," she challenged, in between peppering kisses and sucking on a spot directly over your pulse. You shivered.

"I can't."

"Well, I guess we're at a crossroads," she said. Her right hand slid down your chest to the hem of your shirt, sliding gently underneath and laying itself flat against your stomach. She smirked when she reconnected your lips, knowing she was winning.

"This is a really bad idea."

"You talk too much."

"No, because this is really a conflict of interest. We're supposed to uh..." you stammered, getting distracted by he hand on your stomach slowly getting lower and lower, creeping towards the top of your shorts. "We're supposed read each other's stuff and be honest."

Cairo stopped, pulling away, raising her eyebrows at you. "Are you serious? You don't want to have sex with me —when you've been practically eye-fucking me since we met— so that you can be an honest peer grader???"

"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds stupid."

"That's because it is stupid."

"I— I just can't do that with someone."

She scoffed. "Are you waiting until marriage or something?"

"No."

"Are you asexual?"

"No."

"Is it Winnie?"

"No."

"Do you like boys?"

"No!"

"Then why? I mean, come on. We both knew this would end one of two ways."

"We're better off as just classmates, trust me."

Cairo blinked at you for a moment, like you were the most confusing person she had ever met. Then she got up off of you. Your lap felt lighter, but also emptier, and you wanted to scream up at the stars for not being able to just indulge this one little desire.

"Fine," she said, and her tone caught you off guard. Most people would probably be upset or angry, but it just seemed like Cairo was challenged and endeared. Like she was going to work out your problem and get right back to this situation, only this time she'd get exactly as she wanted.

She wouldn't, you promised yourself. Never ever. The heartbreak wasn't worth it. Cairo checked her watch. "Could you come over tomorrow too? I'm not done with my story yet, and I want you to read it."

"Uh," you thought out loud. You didn't see why not. Maybe you wouldn't be lovers, but just innocent friends? You weren't so much a monster that you wouldn't be able to stop yourself if you hung out with her. Innocent friends were much easier to forget anyways. "Sure," you said, unknowingly giving her exactly what she wanted.

===+++===

You had gone to her house almost every night for the past week, laying on her bed while she sat in the corner in the same familiar chair, typing the same bloody story that she refused to be satisfied with. It was becoming a pattern, even an unconscious one. The next day had been entirely as awkward as expected, with you trying to act as unbothered as possible.

The friendship was going better than you had anticipated, and you were very pleased with your own self restraint. Winnie had come over too, once or twice, and you enjoyed existing within the context but still on the periphery of a friendship.

Cairo Sweet would hunt you down as her friend or as her whatever-you-were, so you figured giving into one would be the path of least resistance anyhow.

She must have been an insanely picky writer. She wrote every word with an overabundant caution, like she was trying so hard to craft perfection. It was like she wanted her keyboard to drip liquid gold onto the page, and the critics to all collectively clap when she finished a sentence.

"You're like George R. R. Martin with how slow you finish a story," you had said once, out of the blue. Cairo looked up at you, offended, and thrown a pillow in your direction that connected with your face.

"I'm trying to cultivate perfection of the written word," she said, and you rolled your eyes.

"God, writers are so pretentious," you wrinkled your nose. "The only people who like to read annoying writers' books are annoying people."

Cairo scoffed. "Yeah, what, you want to be surrounded by James Bond fans? Stephen King fanboys?"

"That's cool, though," you shrugged. "Gets the point across, isn't badly written, and makes a sometimes beautiful passage along the way."

"Oh, so your writing," she joked, smiling at you. It was an innocent smile, and one that so starkly contrasted the lustful one she had looked at you with only a few days ago. Even in memory, her eyes sent a shiver up your spine.

"Yeah, well, people seem to like it. I guess I’m doing something right," you said. Cairo frowned.

"I don't get it," she shook her head. "And you still won't let me read that first one you wrote."

"It's not exactly something I want to talk about to you."

"Why? Is it bad?" she asked, sitting up straight. You knew she meant 'tell me your dirty secrets' by that.

"I just don't want to."

"Hm," she grumbled, laying back in the chair. "And anyways, if what you say about that thing is true, I don't know why Miller liked it. His book is full of the flowery stuff you complain about."

"He wrote a book???" You were incredulous.

Cairo nodded. "A while ago. Apostrophes and Ampersands."

"Never heard of it."

Cairo shrugged. "It didn't exactly make massive waves. It was ingenious though. Grand and tragic."

"You read it then?" You asked, sitting up and turning towards her.

"Yes, I did," she replied nonchalantly. "I enjoyed it."

You looked out the window for a moment, then back to her. Friends should be friends. "Can I borrow your copy?"

===+++===

"God," you groaned, reading Mr. Miller's book with it held over your head, laying on your back. Cairo had given it to you two days ago and now you were slogging through it, waiting for it to get interesting. "'Human ruins of a madman's love,'" you mocked.

"It's gorgeous," Cairo said. She wasn't in her usual chair, she was sitting by the window with it cracked open, a cigarette in her hand.

"It's not— wait, are you smoking?" You asked, sitting up. Cairo rolled her eyes, grinning at you.

"No, I'm just sitting here with a cigarette lit in my fingers."

"God. Wine and a cigarette, what are you, thirty-four."

"Shut up," she said, putting the cigarette in between her lips and puffing out the window. "And anyways that quote is beautiful."

"Maybe," you challenged. "But what is it actually saying?"

"She means everything to him and he's going crazy for her," Cairo said, like it was obvious. You nodded.

"That's the thought and THAT'S what's good there. That's universal. He's losing the plot— getting lost in the sauce— of trying to sound like he's saying something, to the point where he's losing the entire meat of the message."

"Maybe," said Cairo. "But you said one of your books was If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. Not exactly the height of literature."

"And I stand by that," You said. "That's actually enjoyable. You don't enjoy reading this, you enjoy being clever enough to read this, when it's saying something you've heard a million times in a million more decipherable ways. And those ways end up being more beautiful, too.”

"Perhaps," she said. "Or maybe I think the writing is beautiful."

"Well then, I think you're crazy."

"You're welcome to do that," Cairo replied, smile still wide. "You probably will."

===+++===

You managed not to cave until a warmer day, about a week after that. Cairo Sweet had previously been a sweet exterior with absolutely nothing on the inside for you to feel a deep pull towards. Only now, after slowly becoming comfortable, was the magnetic pull becoming physically painful.

Winnie had been absolutely beside herself, miffed at Cairo coming down and swiping you for herself. For a friend or for something more, it didn't matter. You were indisputably hers. And after a life of belonging to no one, you thought maybe Cairo took some sort of glee over making you belong to her.

Class was boring, Mr. Miller was fine, your mom seemed to be doing better, and school seemed to drone on. So when you came back to Cairo's house like normal, you were entirely unaware of how quickly you would fail your mission.

You were barely in door before she was running down the stairs, and the look of worry and surprise in your face only worsened when she got so up close to you, just for a second, and then just as hungry and hurriedly as before, kissed you with a brutal ferocity.

You were taken aback. Something was off. You pulled your head away and Cairo's palms pressed to your cheeks, thumbs brushing against the side of your face. She pulled you back and you had to turn your head away. "Cairo, what—"

"Shut up for once, please. Just kiss me the way a girl wants to be kissed."

You could feel every neuron telling you to get away from her. This was exactly what you had said you didn't want. And then there was the other side of you. The one that wanted to take her right then and then. You swallowed.

"I can't do these kinds of connections, Cairo. I told you."

"That's fine," Cairo rushed, her hand resting on your shoulder blade now. "I need one thing from you, and that's it. I don't ask for much, but I really need this."

Your eyebrows furrowed at her. "What are you talking about?"

"You've said you don't want anything, and okay, that’s fine. At least give me your body for the night. No strings attached.”

You blinked. “What?”

���I don’t owe you anything, you don’t owe me. We just do whatever this is. You make me feel good, and that’s it.” Her fingers had slithered back up to your hair, scratching gently at your scalp in a way that pulled your focus.

It just took a final glance at her face, for the dam to break. Her cheeks were a dusty red, eyes dilated and staring at you, and though you cursed yourself and your idiot Cro-Magnon mind, your palms went to her legs, tugging her up harshly and wrapping her legs around your waist.

“Shit,” you muttered, highly aware this was probably a bad idea. Cairo wrapped her arms around your neck, kissing you with a smile, and then once that broke, a passionate fervour. It was so much but it was so good. You carried her like that, up the stairs to her room, throwing her down on the bed.

She flipped you over, sitting on your lap like she had been back when the both of you first tried this, and it was all too intoxicating. Cairo’s hands went to your shoulders, pushing you back against the mattress before she leaned over, kissing you softly for a moment until it grew into more.

“Wait—” You said, and Cairo sat up, glaring at you.

“You did not get me all the way up here just to back out now,” said Cairo, annoyed beyond belief. You shook your head, tugging her back onto you. Her hair fell around you like a shield to your little private moment.

“I’m not backing out,” you promised, whispering because you felt like you didn’t want to be too loud. “I mean I’ve never … before.”

Cairo smiled at you, looking into your eyes for a moment. “Me neither,” she whispered back.

“Really?” you asked. Cairo raised her eyebrows.

“Fuck you.”

“No,” you shook your head, hand reaching up to move some of her hair out of her face. That wasn’t how you meant it. “…Really?”

She paused, eyes boring into yours. Then she gently nodded, and lowered herself down onto you, placing her lips on yours for another divine moment. It was all too hot in there. She let out a gasp when you tugged down her skirt.

===+++===

It was about five weeks after you had arrived, and you had gone to Cairo's house almost every week day, to continue exactly what had latched around your throat and tugged you harshly towards her.

There, in the milky white lighting of Cairo's table lamp, with her body snugly laying back against you and her book out in front of her, you fell in love for the first time. Really, fell in love.

Not the kind of "love" that swirls around your head as a child and wraps around the leg of the pretty girl in your class who has shiny hair. That kind of “love” where you can't get out a real sentence while talking to her. In comparison to the heavy feeling growing in your chest like a tumour, that was a mild liking.

No, this was the real thing. Adults had always said cryptic things about love, like "when you know, you'll know," and it hadn't ever really made sense, until it did.

As you looked down to watch her nose scrunch from the Nabokov, those three little words took on a whole new meaning. Her dark hair tickled the bare skin of your chest where she laid. Unlike her you still hadn't put your shirt back on, and you shivered a bit, even from under her blanket and her body heat. Her eyes, dark and focused, scanned across the paper, before elegantly flipping past the page with her thumb.

It was one of those renaissance paintings people cried for, in the Louvre, only it was playing out right in front of your eyes. And with that sudden rush of messy emotion, came the dastardly realisation that you were truly fucked.

"You're staring," she said, pulling you from your thoughts. She looked up at you, curious eyes focusing on your own. "What're you staring for?"

You shrugged, the movement shaking her against you. "What's the book you're reading?" You asked. "You seem mad at it."

She hummed, leaving her finger as a bookmark and flipping the cover towards you. The cover read Pale Fire. "That's because it's mostly incoherent rambling," she said. "Makes no sense."

You raised your eyebrows at her. "You don't understand Pale Fire?"

She tilted her head back, challenging you. “And you do?" You nodded. You had written a report during the two months you were in Maine. "Of course you do,” Cairo groaned, rolling her eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked.

Cairo shook her head, patting the side of your leg with her free hand. “Nothing.”

You sat up. “No, seriously. What do you mean?”

She sighed, closing the book around her index finger to hold her page. Cairo shut her eyes for a second, choosing her words carefully. “I mean... you’re annoyingly clever at something you don’t really care about.”

You laughed. "Careful, Sweet. If I didn't know any better I'd say you're jealous."

"Well, I am," said Cairo. "I care about writing so much, and here you come along with literally no passion for it, and you're out-writing me."

"Uh, sorry?" You said with a smile. But the frown you saw on her face told you she wasn't really joking. Cairo scoffed, sitting up and turning towards you.

"No, I'm serious. You barely even try and you spill some amazing few paragraphs, and Mr. Miller loves you like you're his favourite student," she lamented, throwing her hands up in frustration.

"I promise," you sighed, "that I really don't mean to. I don't get it either, so—"

"—See, but that's what's so frustrating!" She cut you off. "You don't mean to. You don't mean to get in my way, but you do because you're so unbelievably perfect at everything, and Mr. Miller loves you so much."

"Okay, wait a minute," you said. "That's not fair."

"What's 'not fair' is me working my ass off until senior year to get to do what I've ALWAYS wanted to do, WRITE, and then you come along and pull all the praise and probably the recommendation letter too!"

You sat there for a moment, taking her words in, your mouth open in surprise. There had always been an inkling that Cairo was unhappy with having you in her class, but you had drowned the thought out with her lips on yours and treasuring every moment you made her smile with something stupid you said.

You cleared your throat and Cairo was already apologising. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," she said, reaching towards you. "It's just so important to me, I get really worked up..."

"It's fine," you rushed. You knew people screamed and said nasty stuff when they were mad. It's just how people were, and it made sense to you. Your mom was like that too, with the yelling and stuff. "Do you..." you mumbled, trying to figure out how to solve her problem. "Do you want me to stop trying?" You asked.

Cairo's eyes lit up within an instant at the idea. "That would be amazing," she breathed. "Thank you so much." She reached across the space between you, kissing with a softness that hadn't previously been there. It was sweet, just like she was, and you breathed a sigh of relief, with the confrontation being over.

You nodded. "Sure." Then your gaze went out the window, realising the sun was starting to set and rain clouds were starting to form. Your hand flew to your leg, having forgotten you were only in your underwear.

"You left it downstairs, remember?" Cairo said, almost playful. When the two of you had gotten to her house, her lips had been so firmly ravaging your neck that your pants hadn't even made it up the stairs before she tugged them off and flung them to the marble bust that stood nearby. You sighed.

"Do you know what time it is?" You asked, getting up from the bed and around to the other side to pick your shirt up off the floor. Cairo also got up, throwing the sheets off herself and walking right over to her closet.

"No, I left my phone at school on accident," she replied, opening the door and flicking through the hangers. You pulled the shirt on over your head and fixed the soft collar. On the opposite side of the room, Cairo pulled out the same cream-coloured dress she had been wearing when you first came to study with her. You paused.

"You're getting all fancy?" You asked, turning to her floor mirror and attempting to fix your absolutely messy hair in a way that it wouldn't be clear Cairo had run her hands through it and gripped on tight.

"Mhm," Cairo said. "Having a guest over tonight."

"Oh. They work with your parents or something?" You said, turning to watch her with curiosity over her answer. Cairo pulled off her shirt so that she was now completely naked. She turned back to you with a smile.

"Do you like what you see?" said Cairo, and it made you blush a bit. You nodded.

"You're absolutely beautiful," you said. If you weren't worried about getting home before dinner, you would have walked right over to her and tugged her back into her bed. Cairo waved you off.

"You're too kind," she said. "Now run on home, lover boy." Cairo disappeared into the bathroom with the dress in her hand, and you heard her rustling around with the sink, probably doing her makeup.

"I... I guess I'll see you, then," you said, left alone in the room.

"Mhm," she called from the bathroom. You frowned, but did a final scan for anything you needed to take before heading out her bedroom door and down the stairs, to where your jeans were clumsily thrown over the Roman statue's head. You tugged your phone and keys from the pocket.

"Fuck," you cursed. Only around thirty minutes to get the whole way across town to your house before your mom started worrying. You walked right over to the door... only to find it was also pouring down rain, now. Dammit. You tugged on your jacket from where it had been hanging on a steel coatrack by the door, pulling the hood up.

You walked out onto the porch, shut the door behind you, and took off running, going as fast as you could down the garden and then up the street into the woods. You got about a hundred metres from her house, that was, until you stopped.

Driving right past you, barely able to see him in the storm, was Mr. Miller. Driving right to Cairo's house in his little sedan. You froze, stopping dead in the rain to watch him go. Even after his license plate retreated in the distance, you felt a sickening sense of dread begin to pool in your gut, one that was already tarnishing your prior bliss.

===+++===

part three perhaps? i also have a tara carpenter one in the works and a lorraine day that's mostly done so hopefully i'll be updating more frequently

[iannmin]

HEAD OVER HEELS | p.sh 박성화

pairings + warnings: heels!obssessed!hwa x fem!reader, creampie, breeding kink (literally breeding everywhere >_<), just pure smut so mdni! 18+, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (?)

synopsis: “get hot on ya heels”

a/n: just got some inspiration looking at some of the reblogs from my previous works on hwa and one of them said that hwa may have a kink of loving to their s/o in heels, so credits to whoever who said that i love you

you owned a lot of heels, but “a lot” would definitely be an understatement. the heels came in tens, even dozens - from the classic YSL’s to the fancy Dolce & Gabbana’s, but regardless the type, it all boiled down to a single reason: park seonghwa.

hwa would always buy you heels everytime he goes out for shopping with his bandmates. his poor and innocent friends thought that it was “nothing more than an act of love” but oh,, you knew for sure that it wasn’t. it was simple, really, he loved how you looked in them when you two were having a lil baby making session <3. so when he hastily kicked off his shoes and fumbled his way over to the bedroom at one in the morning where you were just about to tuck yourself to bed,, you weren’t surprise at all.

“jagiya, look hehe” he shook the huge shopping bag, smug look smeared all over his face. “let’s do it now” don’t get mistaken,, hwa had his priorities set straight so he didn’t care one bit when he carelessly tore the luxurious Louis Vuitton wrapping in half like a spoilt child. you barely uttered a reply but he was already holding both of your ankles, slipping on the wine red heels on your feet. it took a few moments for hwa to soak in the sight - you in his plain white tee with your lace panties coupled with the pair of high heels….god,, and when it finally came to him, hwa could only mumble “f-fuck…s’pretty….gonna ruin you princess” before instantly reaching for the buckles on his belt.

jeans and belt pooling around his knees with his veiny cock slapping against his abdomen, he set you up in a mating press, hooking both of your legs over his shoulder. gently kissing each side of your ankles, he aligned his girthy tip against your hole.

“hah…fuck…wanna breed you so bad…you’ll be such a pretty mommy f’me” *schlop!* in an instant, his hips slammed tightly against yours and his girthy base came into contact with your folds. that’s it. seven-inch all in at once. this was the feeling you’d never seemed to get used to no matter how many times the both of you did it, so it got you instantly gripping on hwa’s shoulder blades. “nnnggh….hwa…feels s’full…s’good...” tears were threatening to spill from your eyes, so he reached in for a sloppy kiss, a string of saliva connecting from both of your coated lips.

but,, of course you were wrong to think that it was the end because hwa was pussy-drunk. extremely drunk with the thought of you. all he desired was to pound that tight pussy loose and watch it seep with his cum. so he did exactly that. with sweaty bangs sticking to his forehead, he buried his head into your neck, deep groans casting vibrations against your skin. with every hard thrust, your nails dug deeper into his shoulders, whimpers turning a pitch higher. "h-hwa...gonna cum..."

"hold on for me princess, i wanna try something.." hwa instantly flipped you on your stomach - ass up, face down in a doggy-style position, and when he entered your sensitive hole again to continue his pounding ordeal, you swear you felt his cock reach in about an inch deeper. oh boy,, you were going to lose your mind very soon.

it took the both of you no more than half a minute to reach your highs and when it did, it felt straight out of a porn scene. with hwa's groans turned into nothing but an endless chant of curses and high-pitched whimpers, and your moans turned into broken sobs, he pressed his hip as deep as it could have gone against yours, releasing loads and loads of hot white cum, filling you up full. and when hwa finally pulled out, his cum was everywhere - seeping out of your hole, dripping down your thighs and heels, coating your wine-red heels in a layer of translucent fluid. he hate to admit it but the sight of you nearly got him hard again.

"fuck...princess, i love you so much, could do this everyday"

[austinbutlerslovers]

Benny Cross the Bikeriders Fantasy Part 4

Label Mature 18+

Chapter 4 Till Death

🔗 chapter 1 🔗 chapter 2 🔗 chapter 3

Summary You and Benny tie the knot in a biker-style wedding, surrounded by your closest friends and his Vandal club members. The celebration is filled with love and support for your whirlwind romance.

As newlyweds, you take full advantage of your time enjoying every moment together. Little by little, small cracks begin to surface in Benny's gentle behavior.

You initially brush it off as the stress of Benny adjusting from biker life to married life, until his charming personality completely falls revealing a side of him you've never seen before.

The turning point comes when the illusion shatters completely. The love you once felt is replaced by heartbreak, leaving you to pick up the broken pieces and face the painful reality of who Benny really is.

♠️ Passionate Smut ♠️ morning sex •fingering • sex on a counter • claiming • dirty talk•size kink•oral on female •squirting • cum eating • nipple play • foreplay •wedding night sex• multiple cream pies •multiple orgasms •extreme after care

Proof Readers 📖@purejasmine @burnthheparaphilia Smut Consultant 🫦@butdaddyilovehim99

Heavily Inspired by the Bikeriders Movie 🩸Mentions of blood (Benny gets into a fight)

🏍️ Inspo: anonymous requests combined 🏍️ •Marrying Benny cross full detail •Benny can’t stop thinking about you at all times •Benny turns overly protective seeing you get hurt •Benny claims you before and after the wedding •You and Benny have sex out doors •Benny breaks your heart

Til Death

You awaken in the morning, still basking in the afterglow of your engagement party. As you stretch with a contented smile, you hear the sound of running water as Benny washes his face and brushes his teeth.

The sunlight begins filtering softly through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the room as Benny finishes and quickly climbs back into bed with you.

His warm body presses against yours and he wraps his muscular arms around you, pulling you close. His smile is infectious as you lay staring into each other’s eyes.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says his voice still rough from sleep.

“Good morning, handsome,” you say in return, your fingers trailing along his jawline as he smiles.

“Last night was something else, hm?” he asks, his fingertips caressing along your shoulder.

“I still can’t believe we’re engaged, Benny,” you reveal warmly.

“I believe it,” he grins softly, resting his hand on your cheek. “I’ve never been this happy before.”

“I’ve never felt this way either, Benny,” you confess, your eyes filled with affection.

 Benny smiles warmly, brushing his thumb gently across your chin. 

“You’re everything I ever wanted,” he reveals, his voice soft and tender as he gazes deeply into your eyes.

“And I’m lucky,” he continues, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw with a featherlight touch, “because I get to spend the rest of my life proving it to you.” He says and the intensity of his eyes makes your heart skip a beat.

You feel the familiar blush creeping up your cheeks and you lower your gaze. But Benny doesn’t let you shy from him and gently tilts your chin, guiding you to look back at him.

He leans in, capturing your lips in a deeply passionate kiss. His soft, plush lips moving against yours as his fingertips trail down the curves of your waist.

He pulls your thigh closer, lifting your leg over his waist and pressing his firm cock against you. The intimate contact makes you gasp, your body responding with a surge of anticipation.

“Need to be inside you, baby,” he whispers with desire, as he tilts your head back pressing soft kisses along your throat.

“Y-yes, Benny…” you pant, your voice trembling with need as you surrender. His movements are deliberate a he takes his time kissing and sucking the sensitive skin of your neck.

The firmness of his body presses against yours as he glides his hard cock your through wetness, slicking your arousal along his shaft with every pass. The sensation is euphoric, making your breath catch as your body reacts.

“You’re so wet for me” he says gently pressing the tip of his cock to your entrance. He pauses just long enough to let the moment linger before he pushes his large cock into you, inch by inch with a slow insistent thrust.

His gaze is locked on yours, watching every pleasurable emotion on your face as you feel him guiding deeper inside.

“You feel…so good, baby,” he rasps, his voice filled with raw desire as your walls tighten around his cock drawing him in . “I’m going to take you all the way.” He promises, claiming you completely.

“Yes, Benny,” you moan, your body arching against him as he fills you entirely. Each thrust heightens your pleasure as Benny holds you steady guiding his large cock through your tight walls.

You start to move in rhythm with him, your leg wrapped around his waist, pulling him even deeper. His breath comes out in a heated sigh as he feels you moving with him.

“Feels so good …when you push on me, baby,” he rasps, his voice a blend of awe and affection as he feels the tightness of your walls on each thrust. “Keep …that up for me,” he breathes his voice strained in pleasure.

“I won’t stop, Benny,” you promise, your voice breathless as you push your hips in time with his, meeting each of his deliberate thrusts. You gaze into each other’s eyes, feeling the endless pleasure as you moan in unison your bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

Benny captures your lips in a searing kiss, the passion between you intensifying with each thrust. You melt into him, your bodies moving as one. The feel of him against you and the taste of him on your tongue make you surrender completely, letting Benny consume you entirely.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours, filled with a burning devotion that makes your heart race. “I love you,” he breathes, his voice heavy with emotion.

“I love you too, Benny,” you reply, your voice trembling with sincerity sending a thrill through him. His face shifts to one of pure surrender as his love for you overwhelms him.

His muscles tense as he pushes harder driving his cock deeper into you with every thrust. The sound of your soft cries mingles with his ragged breaths, as you surrender to his relentless pace.

Each stroke is raw and possessive, his thrusts harder and faster leaving you gasping for air. His muscles flex with each powerful movement, every shift aimed at bringing you to the peak of ecstasy.

“Your gonna come for aren’t you baby?” he asks, feeling your walls tighten around his thrusting cock.

“Yes, Benny!” you cry out, your voice trembling with the intensity of pleasure building inside your body.

“I’m close,” he rasps, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he feels you tightening around him, driving him closer to his own release. “I want to feel you come with me, baby,” he whispers, his voice filled with anticipation, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your moans grow more frantic as you nod, and he thrusts into you with relentless force. His cock sliding in and out with of you with an intensity that pushes you to the edge.

His guttural groans blend with your cries of pleasure. The sensation of his hips clapping against you makes your walls flutter until you can’t hold back.

“Benny I——!” you cry out, your voice breaking as the overwhelming orgasm crashes over you, your walls tightening around his cock as you moan in ecstasy.

“Oh fuck,” he gasps, his pace faltering as he watches you feeling the intense pleasure of his cock. “I’m gonna come,” he yells, his voice strained with effort.

With a final thrust , he releases deep inside of you, his cock throbbing as it pulses rope after rope of cum, each surge sending a new wave of pleasure coursing through your body.

The world falls away as you orgasm together, his guttural groans and your loud cries filling the air. The intensity of your orgasms leaving you both breathless, lost in the shared ecstasy of the moment.

He shudders heavily, his entire body trembling with the force of his release and he holds you close, his grip almost desperate as he begins to roughly kiss you, his lips capturing yours holding on to the connection you just shared.

He moves back from the kiss and you remain entwined, hearts pounding in unison until the room fills with the soft sounds of your mingled breaths. As the aftershocks of pleasure fade Benny holds you close as you stare at him in awe.

“I’m so in love with you Benny,” you reveal the words escaping your lips.

His eyes wander over your face, remembering every detail as you give your heart to him and he slowly smiles softly stroking your cheek with his  thumb.

“I’m so in love with you too,” he responds, his voice sincere and filled with tenderness. He leans in, brushing his lips against yours in a gentle, loving kiss, and you close your eyes, savoring the intimacy of the moment, feeling the depth of his love for you.

You both rest a moment longer, your bodies intertwined in the afterglow of the passion you just shared. Fully satisfied, he begins to carefully pull out of you. The gradual withdrawal of his large cock sends a final shiver of pleasure through your body, making you gasp softly.

He rolls onto his back and pulls you close to his chest, his fingers gently weaving through your hair as he savors the intimacy of the moment.

You gaze up at him, your eyes soft and loving as you admire his handsome features. His strong jawline softened by stubble, his vibrant blue eyes holding a depth that makes your heart flutter. The curve of his full lips, resting in a confident, teasing smile. You adore Benny and can’t help but smile to yourself, feeling a surge of love and contentment being his fiancé.

“Come shower with me, Benny,” you whisper, as he almost sleeps in the warmth of your embrace.

“I’d like that,” he grins becoming more alert, savoring any intimate moment he can share with you. He releases you from his embrace, and you both slowly untangle from the sheets. The cool morning air brushes against your warm skin as you head to the bathroom ready to start your day together.

As you turn on the water, letting it warm up, Benny looks over your naked form, his hand slowly trailing down your back,“Your irresistible baby,” he says, squeezing your hip.

“And you’re insatiable Benny,” you tease, stepping under the shower and pulling him in with you. The water cascades over your bodies as you lean into him.

“You bring it out of me,” he says gently, brushing your wet hair back with one hand while the other cradles your face. You gaze up at him, and his lips meet yours in a soft, affectionate kiss that radiates warmth and love.

You wrap your arms around his neck, savoring the moment as steam rises around you, feeling both the heat of the water and the warmth of his kiss. You take turns washing each other’s bodies, enjoying the closeness and intimacy with the excitement of being engaged lingering between you.

After you dry off and head to the bedroom Benny slips on his jeans and a beige shirt while you choose a comfortable button up summer dress. You both move in sync, exchanging occasional smiles and touches as you prepare for the day an once ready, you head downstairs together.

In the kitchen, you make a simple breakfast, eggs, toast, and tea then sit at the counter together, sharing bites and light conversation about the excitement of your party last night. After breakfast you pull the calendar from the refrigerator, returning to sit next to him.

With the engagement successfully announced, you and Benny have an even bigger task ahead; planning the wedding.

“What date would you like for the big day?” you ask, flipping through the pages for the following months.

“Tomorrow,” Benny says with a sly grin.

You give him a playful look. “Benny, we can’t possibly do it tomorrow.”.

“End of the week,” he confirms without hesitation as he walks away to put the dishes in the sink.

“Benny, that’s too soon,” you protest.

He walks back to you, his eyes softening as he approaches. He wraps his strong arms around you from behind, his embrace warm and reassuring as you sit at the counter. 

He plants a kiss on your temple, then glances over the dates flipping back to the current month.

“I want to marry you as soon as possible” he says gently against your ear. “I don’t want to wait a moment longer,” he says with a depth of emotion.

You sigh, hearing the dedication in his words and feeling the same. “Maybe we can do it end of this week if the wedding is really small,” you suggest with a hopeful smile.

“The wedding will be big well included the entire club of Vandals,” he confirms with a grin,  excited to share the momentous occasion with his brotherhood.

When you look to him unsure he smiles holding you tighter into his embrace. “I’ll call Johnny and Betty they were already planning to help anyway, they’d love to do this for us.” He reveals m.

You smile, feeling a sense of relief and excitement. “They would do that?” you ask in surprise, and after a moment of thought Benny nods.

“Yea they know everyone, and this is a big deal for us. They’ve always had my back” he says reassuringly.

“What about the venue?” you ask, trying to think of a location in town.

Benny smiles, already knowing the answer. “We’ll do it right, hire a pastor and get married at the lake,” he says softly. You look over your shoulder, trying to hold your resolve at his sentiment, and he holds you tighter, seeing your pleased expression.

“That sounds wonderful Benny,” you confirm and place your hands on his forearms as he holds you.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” he whispers, his voice filled with love and anticipation.

You smile, your heart swelling with love in return. “I can’t wait to marry you either Benny” you respond and he smiles his eyes filled with affection as he plants a kiss on your lips.

You and Benny spend the rest of the afternoon making various calls to set the arrangements for the upcoming weekend.

As word gets around the Vandals and your friends excitedly offer their help in various ways to be part of the spontaneous celebration.

Benny chooses Johnny as his Best Man with Brusy and Cal as his groomsmen and you Chose Sarah as your Maid of Honor with Donna and Emily as your brides maids.

Benny, not being traditional chooses to wear his colors for the wedding proving his loyalty to the Vandals, and for your dress, you already have the most sentimental gown imaginable.

Wedding Jitters

The next day, you invite your maid of honor and bridesmaids over, ensuring Benny will be out with Johnny, working on the beverage order for the afternoon.

As your friends arrive, you share greetings and offer them glasses of wine in the kitchen, exchanging pleasantries before bringing them into your mother’s sitting room.

The space is cozy and nostalgic, with a large window facing the garden. A plush, floral-patterned sofa sits against one wall, complementing the room’s warm, inviting colors. Directly across from the sofa is your mother’s well-loved sewing machine. A full-length mirror stands in one corner next to a changing partition, and in the center of the room is a mannequin proudly displaying your mother’s wedding dress.

The gown is a stunning satin white, its fabric smooth and lustrous, with delicate straps that gracefully frame the shoulders, leading to a low-cut neckline. The bodice is fitted, accentuating the waist before flaring out into a full, flowing skirt that sweeps the floor.

When Emily and Sarah see your mother’s gown upon entering the room, they quickly become emotional, their eyes welling up with tears. The sight moves you deeply, and you find yourself tearing up with them. The four of you hold each other, sharing a heartfelt moment as you look over the gown together.

“It’s perfect,” Sarah says, wiping away happy tears. “Try it on for us,” Emily requests, and you nod in agreement. They each take a seat on the sofa, wines in hand, ready to see you wear the dress.

Though you’ve tried it on after pulling it from the trunk in the attic, something about wearing it in front of your friends makes it feel real. You nervously unbutton the silk gown from the mannequin, your hands trembling slightly as you struggle, and Sarah immediately gets up to help you.

“I’ve got it for you,” she says, taking over. Once she has the dress down, you step behind the partition to remove your clothing, and she hands the dress to you.

When you emerge, the dress fits you perfectly. Emily and Donna gasp, their eyes shining with emotion. Sarah helps you button up the back and delicately fastens the veil in your hair. She steps back, and they all admire you, their faces reflecting a mix of awe and affection.

“You’re going to be such a beautiful bride,” Sarah says, her voice full of admiration.

You smile, looking at yourself in the full-length mirror, feeling the weight of the moment and the significance of wearing your mother’s dress for your special day. The reality of your upcoming wedding sinks in, filling you with an overwhelming blend of excitement and longing.

“I wish they were here,” you blurt out, suddenly overcome with emotion. You kneel down, trying to hold back your sobs. Emily and Sarah immediately rush to your side, wrapping their arms around you in a comforting embrace, offering their support and understanding.

“Oh, sweetie,” Emily whispers, her voice filled with empathy. “They are here with you, in spirit and in your heart.”

“Your mom would be so proud of you,” Sarah adds supportively. “You look absolutely beautiful, and she’s watching over you, smiling.”

Donna softly strokes your back. “We’ll make sure your day is perfect, just like you deserve,” she confirms.

“We love you so much,” Sarah says, squeezing you tightly. “We know your parents would have loved to see you in this dress, marrying the man you love.”

They all look to you with supportive smiles. Donna steps away momentarily before coming forward and nudging you gently with your glass of wine. “Drink all of this down,” she orders, lightening the mood and as you laugh, you all lift your glasses for a toast.

“To love and friendship,” Donna says, her voice warm and reassuring.

“To marrying the love of your life,” Sarah adds, smiling through her tears.

“To the most beautiful bride,” Emily chimes in, her eyes shining with affection.

You all clink your glasses together, cheering in celebration.

During the week, you hand Benny several checks and envelopes of cash, which he distributes to cover all the expenses, making everything flow smoothly.

With the final detail of a local pastor confirmed, Benny looks at you with a triumphant grin. “I think we did it,” he says, pulling you into a tight embrace. “We’re getting married this weekend!” He says excitedly.

You smile, feeling joy and anticipation rising inside of you. “I can’t believe we made it happen, Benny,” you say, excitement surging as you tiptoe up and

press an appreciative kiss on his lips. Benny grins warmly and pulls you closer. “You’re gonna be my wife, baby,” he says affectionately.

One Night of Fun

The day before the wedding is filled with excitement and a flurry of activity. Betty and the older ladies meet with your maid of honor and bridesmaids to plan a surprise for you, while Johnny and the Vandals do the same for Benny.

You and Benny spend the day running last minute errands, making sure everything is ready for the next day.

As evening arrives, you begin to feel the wedding jitters setting in and decide to calm your nerves by cooking dinner together, a comforting ritual you both enjoy.

“Do you think we’ve forgotten anything?” you ask, perfectly browning a chicken breast in the skillet.

Benny stands beside you, chopping vegetables at the kitchen counter. “I don’t think so. I double-checked the list this morning,” he replies, concentrating on his task. “But if we did forget something, I’m sure it’ll work out.” He reassures you with calm confidence.

You nod, taking a deep breath. “You’re right, Benny. I guess it’s just the nerves talking,” you admit, feeling a bit anxious.

Benny leans over, smiling, and gently kisses your forehead. “We’re going to have an amazing day, baby. Everything will be perfect,” he says. His voice is steady and calming, and you smile, appreciating the way he grounds you.

Once dinner is ready, you sit down at the table together, trying to focus on the moment rather than the whirlwind of thoughts in your head.

“The chicken is amazing,” Benny says as he takes another bite, looking up at you affectionately.

You smile, finding comfort in the familiar routine of having dinner together. “I’m so glad, Benny,” you say, feeling a surge of emotion. “I want to do this with you forever.”

He gives you a look filled with understanding, getting up and walking around the table to kneel beside you. His eyes filled with warmth and love as he gazes into yours. “I want you forever,” he says softly, his voice full of sincerity, and leans placing a kiss on your lips and sealing his promise.

After dinner, you decide to relax on the couch together watching a show to distract your minds and calm your nerves. You settle in, nestled against Benny’s side, as the television flickers softly in the living room.

Benny’s holds you around your shoulders, his thumb gently stroking your arm in a soothing rhythm. The warmth of his body and the steady rise and fall of his chest easing your nerves.

Neither of you really pays attention to the show playing in the background. Instead, you sit in thoughtful silence, your minds drifting through the anticipation of tomorrow.

Occasionally, Benny leans over to plant a soft kiss on your temple or cheek, grounding you in the moment with his gentle affection. His fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your thigh, the touch both calming and reassuring.

“Tomorrow’s the big day,” he finally says, voicing what’s on both of your minds as he looks down at you with a warm smile.

You tilt your head to meet his gaze. “It feels like a dream, Benny,” you say softly.

He smiles deepens as he rests his head gently against yours. “It’s a dream come true,” he says warmly.

You both lapse back into a comfortable silence, the only sound in the room the show on the television. Being together in your shared space bringing a sense of peace.

Suddenly, the phone rings, breaking the tranquility, and you sit up. “I wonder who that could be at this hour,” you say, rising from the couch.

You answer the phone to hear the familiar voice of Johnny.

“How you doing, sweetheart?” he asks with genuine curiosity, and you feel your nerves begin to rise again.

“I’m fine, Johnny,” you say quickly.

“Put Benny on for me, would ya?” he asks.

“Of course,” you reply, handing the call to Benny. He takes the phone and gently squeezes your hand before you leave to give him privacy.

Once Benny finishes talking, he hangs up and finds you in the kitchen. “Hey, um,” he says, scratching the back of his head, “The guys want to take me out tonight,” he says with a sly grin.

You bite your lip to contain your smile. You are well aware of the kind of night they have planned for him. His cheeks flush as he realizes you know, and you head to your purse in the kitchen to hand him a small stack of bills.

“Have fun,” you say, walking past him in a playfully dismissive manner, but he grabs your wrist, holding you in place as he pockets the money.

“What do you mean, ‘have fun’?” he grins, pulling you back to him. “You’re my fun,” he says, pressing a kiss to your ear. “I want to have fun with you right now,” he whispers, nudging his nose against your cheek.

“Benny, go,” you say, trying to sound serious through your smile.

“No, I want you now,” he says, his voice lower tinged with desire as he guides his large hands down your body. “I want you satisfied while I’m out,” he whispers, reaching his hand between your legs and squeezing gently.

You gasp at his insistence, your heart fluttering with anticipation. “Try to behave yourself tonig—” Benny leans in, kissing you deeply, savoring the warmth of your mouth and cutting off your words before you can finish the thought.

His kiss is all consuming, his lips moving against yours with an insatiable hunger and you melt into him, losing yourself in the moment, his touch and presence enveloping you completely.

He pulls back, his eyes dark with desire as they wander your body. “I’m going to misbehave right now,” he promises, unfastening his belt.

“Oh god, Benny,” you gasp, feeling chills at his intensity.

He holds your waist and lifts you onto the counter’s edge, kissing you hard as he unbuttons your top. He unclasps your bra, letting it fall to the tiled surface as his large hands grab your breasts, kneading and squeezing them as his tongue explores your mouth.

Your thighs instinctively tighten around his waist, your arousal pooling from his touch as you feel him becoming hard between your legs.

“Gonna make you feel so good baby,” he promises and you feel the heat of his breath as he kisses down your neck, the warmth of his mouth sucking, licking, and leaving a trail of sensation as you pant above him.

“Please, Benny,” you sigh, your fingertips running through his hair as his lips move lower, licking and kissing across your hardened nipples. He takes one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the peak before sucking it hard, drawing it in deeply. The pressure of his warmth tonge makes you moan, your wetness increasing with every pull of his mouth.

“Benny..that feels so good,” you moan, your walls clenching around nothing as he releases your nipple with a wet pop.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he whispers as his hands gently cup your breasts and his warm mouth returns, softly licking and firmly sucking each nipple. The sensations are overwhelming, each flick of his tongue and squeeze of his hands drawing a moan from your lips.

“I need you Benny,” you say breathlessly, your body aching for his touch. He responds by reaching his hand between your legs, sliding his fingers against your panties feeling them soaked through.

“God, you’re so wet for me,” he breathes, the heat of his words matching the intensity of his touch. His eyes lock onto yours as his fingers trace soft circles on your clit through the fabric.

Your hips push instinctively into his hand, and he slides your panties aside, his fingers gliding through your wetness, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you moan.

He teases your entrance with gentle circles and firm strokes, the sensation are overwhelming leaving you breathless. “Benny, please…” you whisper, spreading your legs wider, silently begging to be filled.

“You want more, baby?” he asks seductively.

“Y-yes, Benny,” you whisper.

“I’ll always give you more,” he promises and glides his fingers through your slickness before pushing them all the way inside of you.

“Oh God, Benny,” you gasp, your body trembling as he curls them upward pressing against a sensitive ridge. The sensation is exquisite, sending jolts of pleasure through your body as he moves his fingers in and out.

“Does it feel good baby?” he asks low and teasing.

“Yes, Benny!” you moan, “Please don’t stop,” you cry out with desperate need.

“I won’t stop until you’re satisfied,” he vows.

His other hand begins to knead your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple in time with his fingers thrusting below, creating a symphony of sensations that makes you cry out his name.

“Benny, yes,” you moan as he plunges his fingers deeper curling them expertly against a a soft ridge that has you seeing stars

He returns his warm mouth to your breast, sucking and licking with intensity. The combination of his skilled fingers and the suction of his warm mouth pushes you to the brink, your body arching as you cry out his name.

“Benny....-I’m going to come,” you cry, the pleasure becoming so great you can no longer withstand it. Your body trembles with force as your orgasm crashes over you, your walls clenching around his fingers as waves of ecstasy ripple through your core.

He releases your nipple with a wet pop, and his eyes lock onto yours as he watches you come.

The slick sound of your wetness increases as his fingers thrust faster and harder making your cheeks flush a deep pink. Your breaths come in ragged gasps as the sensation intensifies, the euphoria overwhelming as you become lightheaded.

Benny slows his fingers as your thighs quiver against his hand and watches with a satisfied grin as you come down from your high.

Once you regain your breath, he removes his fingers from you bringing them to his mouth and tasting you with a satisfied hum.

His eyes roam over you as he decides what he wants to do next, finally locking his intense gaze with yours making your heart race.

His expression darkens with a mix of pride and hunger. “I need more,” he says, his voice rough with desire. “I want to taste you, until you come in my mouth.”

A shiver runs through you at his words and your heart races as he places his hand on your chest, gently guiding down to lay on the counter.

You let out a soft, breathy moan as you settle onto the cool tiles, the reality of his promise sinking in. Your skin tingles with anticipation as he prepares you for what’s next, tracing his fingers lightly over your skin.

“I want this off” he says and you feel a surge of excitement as his hands slide lower to your hips, tugging your skirt down and slipping off your panties. With you fully naked before him his gaze lingers on your curves, taking in every detail with a look of appreciation and desire.

“Spread your legs for me,” he commands, his voice tinged with pride and admiration as you do, his eyes locking onto the glistening arousal between them. He reaches out, his fingers grazing the slickness, savoring the effect he has on you.

“So wet for me” he praises with a smile and his hands slowly push your thighs wider apart. He lowers his face between them, and you shiver at the heat of his breath fanning against your skin.

He slowly traces his tongue along your wetness, savoring your taste, each stroke deliberate and intense as he enjoys every moment.

“Benny!” you gasp, your body tensing and releasing as the motions of his tongue become faster, your breath hitching as the pleasure radiates through your core. He flicks his tongue against your clit with an intensity that has you moan into the air.

“Benny, god!” you cry, your body arching toward his mouth and he grips your thighs, thrusting his tongue in and out of your entrance. The wet, sloppy sounds of his mouth fill the room as your hips begin to move of their own accord, each plunge of his tongue sending shockwaves through your core.

Your breaths come in ragged gasps as he works his tongue deeper, your moans unending as he consumes you. He groans against in passion and the vibration intensify your pleasure, spreading it from your core outward, tingling along your skin and making your thighs tighten around his head.

His hands grip your thighs and gently pull them apart, keeping you in place as you surrender to every exquisite sensation of his mouth devouring you.

“Benny I’m gonna come !” You moan your walls tightening on the brink of release. He maintains the perfect rhythm the sensation dizzying, each thrust and flick of his tongue drawing you closer to climax. Your hands grip the counter, desperate for something to hold onto as you feel yourself about to come.

When the tension snaps, you cry out in euphoria as another powerful orgasm crashes over you, the sheer intensity of your release leaving you utterly at his mercy.

Benny continues sloppily kissing and licking you as you come, determined to drive you beyond the edge of ecstasy.

Desperate cries escape your lips as he firmly slips two fingers inside of your sensitive walls, thrusting hard, creating an intense dull ache that builds, coiling tighter and tighter with every deep stroke.

“Benny, oh god!” you whimper as he thrusts faster, making the pressure build until you feel a demanding need for release.

You cry out as you reach the brink, and he slips his fingers from you, circling them against your clit. The sudden shift in sensation causes your body to respond with a powerful release, warm liquid squirting freely from your core with each stroke of his fingers.

Benny leans in, capturing your release with his mouth, his tongue eagerly lapping in as you push against his face. Your moans are unending as you come, completely overwhelmed by Benny.

Your body gives out, going limp as you lay flat on the counter, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

The overwhelming pleasure leaves you dazed and blissfully exhausted as you bask in the afterglow of your earth shattering orgasm. Benny stands with a satisfied smirk, clearly pleased with his handiwork, and slowly licks the taste of you from his lips.

“I love to make you come like that,” he grins at you in satisfaction.

You weakly smile, your mind clouded in complete euphoria. “I… I love it too,” you manage to say, unable to form an another thought.

He watches you with a contented smile, his touch lingering softly on your thighs as you come down from the high, the aftershocks of pleasure still rippling through your body.

His eyes are filled with admiration as he takes in your blissful state, his thumbs gently stroking your skin, grounding you in the moment as you slowly regain your composure.

“I want to satisfy you even more,” he says, tightly gripping your hips and pulling you to the edge of the counter. “Need to feel you tight around me” he rasps “I want to thrust until I can’t hold back anymore,” he reveals his voice rough with need.

“Oh god Benny,” you softly moan, your eyes pleading for him.

He unzips his jeans, lowering them as his large, hard cock springs free. You watch as he wraps one hand firmly around the base, his other hand resting on your hip to hold you in place.

He presses the tip against your entrance, sliding it through the slick wetness of your arousal and the sensation causes waves of intense pleasure to course through your already overstimulated body.

“I want you so much,” he whispers as he aligns himself with you. “Do you feel how hard you make me, baby?” he asks, gripping both of your hips possessively.

You moan feeling the heat of his tip press into you, and with a deliberate, steady push, he thrusts himself inside. Your body arches as he penetrates, your walls throbbing as he stretches you around his size.

He places his large hand across your pelvis, holding you in place as he sinks deeper, the sensation drawing moans from you both as he bottoms out, filling you completely.

“You feel so good on me,” he groans softly, his voice thick with desire.

You gaze into his eyes, completely consumed by the size of his cock. “Benny…you’re so deep” you whine, the fullness so intense that you can’t move.

“Every inch of me belongs inside of you,” he confirms, holding you steady as he begins to thrust, his head immediately tilting back in pure bliss as he enjoys in the tightness of your walls squeezing him.

You whimper and moan beneath him, your sounds mingling with the wet, rhythmic slickness of his cock as he roughly pushes into you, each firm stroke accompanied by his grunts and pants.

Your fingers grasp desperately at the edge of the counter, the only thing to brace yourself felling every inch of him pushing deeper, the fullness and pressure sending shockwaves to your core.

He glances down at you, captivated by the sight of your eyes fluttering closed in bliss as you take him.

“Look at me, baby,” he says affectionately and when your eyes meet, the intensity of your gaze sends a jolt of desire through him as his cock twitch inside your walls.

“You’re all I’m going to be thinking about tonight,” he confesses, his words a promise as he drives his cock into you with a newfound intensity.

You respond eagerly to his words, your moans growing louder and more desperate as you feel yourself spiraling toward another climax. The tension coils tighter within you, your body straining toward release, every thrust reinforcing the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Oh god Benny!” You finally cry as his pace increases to a dangerous rate, thrusting faster, driving deeper and holding you in place. He begin to pounds into your walls with a relentless rhythm. His groans fill your ears as your pelvic muscles contract around his large cock squeezing it tightly.

“S-so good,” he stammers, losing his ability to think, the sounds of your wetness mingling with the slaps of his skin, driving him insane as he nears release.

Your walls begin to flutter, drawing him in deeper with every thrust, and you feel the familiar tightness building within as you gasp, and moan reaching your peak of your pleasure.

“Don’t come yet, baby,” Benny rasps, his voice commanding and filled with control.

You strain not to come and he presses his hand down firmly on your pelvis, the force sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core as he thrusts intensifying the sensation beyond your limits.

Your hips buck up against him, your cries of his name spilling from your lips like a desperate prayer.

“Benny, god Benny please!” you moan incoherently, your voice trembling with desperation.

“Fuck,” he gasps, he falters, nearly losing control, but he quickly recovers, determined to give you an earth shattering orgasm. “Not yet, baby,” he commands, holding you firmly in place as he begins flicking his thumb over your clit.

Your cries are foreign to your ears as he relentlessly thrusts and sweetly tortures your clit. The combination drives you to the brink, your body instinctively pushing against him, completely overwhelmed and overstimulated.

Your orgasm crashes over you with full force, your vision blurring as waves of pleasure radiate through your core. Your walls spasm around his cock, and you moan his name, feeling the warmth of your release coating his cock as he continues to glide in and out of you.

He groans as the rush of warm liquid makes his thrusts sloppier and more desperate. He falters slightly, the pleasure all consuming. “I’m gonna come,” he relents, keeping his hand in place, feeling himself thrusting harder under his palm as he chases his own high.

He lets out a guttural moan, his body tensing as his cock pulses inside of you. The sensation of his warm cum filling you makes you moan beneath him. His cock throbs in sync with the contractions of your walls and the intensity of your orgasms leaves you both breathless and satisfied.

He waits as the throbbing of your walls subsides, savoring the feeling of being completely connected to you.

He brushes soft touches along your sides, his eyes taking in your blissfully surrendered form. “You’re incredible,” he says with a soft smile as his fingers trace gently over your delicate skin.

You manage a weak smile in return, still overwhelmed from the intensity of the moment . “I’ve never felt anything like that, Benny,” you admit, your voice filled with awe.

He smiles, a look of satisfaction in his eyes. “I want to make you feel like that always,” he says softly, his hand gently guiding down your leg.

With your bodies calmed he places a hand on your thigh bracing himself and carefully pulls out of you. The sensation of his large cock withdrawing leaves you feeling both empty and relieved as a warmth spreads through your core.

He takes your wrists and gently pulls you up to him, guiding your arms around his neck as he wraps his strong arms around your waist, holding you close.

He gazes into your eyes, a playful grin on his lips. “What if I don’t go?” he asks, his voice teasing with a hint of genuine reluctance.

You smile, leaning in to kiss his lips softly. “Go play with your boys,” you whisper against his mouth, knowing full well he’ll be thinking of you the entire time. The connection between you is undeniable, and you both linger in the moment, unwilling to let it end.

Suddenly there is a loud knock at the front door startling you both due to the hour.

“Who could that be?” you ask, glancing at Benny.

“I don’t know,” he replies, quickly helping you off the counter. You scramble to get dressed, pulling on your top and buttoning it up, while he tucks himself away, adjusting his jeans. He collects your skirt, kneeling to help you step into it.

Once you are both dressed, Benny heads to answer the front door.

He pulls it open to find all the old ladies from the club, along with your friends, waiting in anticipation. Their faces flushed with excitement as they yell and cheer. Bennys eyes widen in shock at the sudden visit and they scream and catcall at him, clearly there to celebrate. With a mix of surprise and amusement, he steps aside, inviting them all in.

They pour into the entryway, each one touching and patting his firm arms and chest as they pass him by.

“What are you still doing here, Benny? You’re supposed to be at the club!” Gale yells with a grin.

“This is girls’ night!” Donna teases as their laughter and chatter filling the house with infectious energy.

They make their way to the kitchen, and feeling exposed, you quickly try to compose yourself but Gale spots your bra on the counter, picking it up with a sly grin.

“Looks like this is why Benny hasn’t left yet,” she teases, waving your bra playfully around making you and Benny turn bright red as he enters the kitchen seeing what she’s discovered.

Despite the teasing, Benny walks over to you, wrapping his arms around you in a warm embrace.

The girls gather around, intensifying the moment as Benny cups your jaw in his hand, placing a soft, lingering kiss on your lips. “I love you” he says tenderly, his eyes locking with yours as he smiles.

“I love you too,” you reply softly, feeling shy under the gaze of your friends as they catcall and cheer around you.

Benny then pulls on his jacket, turning to the group with a grin. “Take good care of her tonight,” he says, his tone a mix of affection and humor as he waves goodbye.

The girls respond with playful teasing and laughter, filling the room with their vibrant energy as Benny finally heads out the front door. The noise and energy in the room continue to buzz as your friends settle in, ready to celebrate the night away before your big day.

You usher everyone into the living room, with their bottles and glasses in hand, heading over to the record player. You carefully select a popular record, gently sliding it out of its sleeve. Placing it on the turntable, you set the needle down with precision, hearing the soft crackle as it finds the groove.

The music fills the room, and you and your friends begin to dance and drink singing along to the entire record, the atmosphere buzzing with energy and joy bringing you all closer together.As the record comes to an end, the energy begins to wind down, and everyone gathers around to start handing out the traditional bridal gifts for your wedding.

Betty is the first to step forward, presenting you with something borrowed, a Vandals biker patch. The old ladies of the club grow sentimental as she places it in your palm and you trace your thumb along the familiar stitching, recognizing the symbol that means so much to Benny.

“You’re one of us now,” Betty says, her voice heavy with emotion as she pulls you into a tight embrace. Her words, filled with deep meaning, make your friends feel a touch out of place, but they smile warmly, sharing in the moment.

Next, Sarah approaches, her excitement barely contained as she hands you something new, a large, ribboned box with ‘Lily of France’ written across the front. You can’t help but gasp as you open it to reveal a stunning white lingerie set, complete with garter belts and fasteners. The women around you clap and cheer, their eyes sparkling with delight.

“That’ll get you pregnant faster than a horse in heat!” Gale shouts, and the room erupts into fits of laughter. You blush deeply, and carefully place the lingerie back into its box, nodding your appreciation to Sarah, who beams with pride.

Emily steps forward next, holding a tiny bag in her hands. You open it to find a small, gold-engraved black box, and inside, nestled on a bed of satin, are a pair of exquisite sapphire earrings.

The room falls silent for a moment as everyone admires their delicate beauty. “Something blue,” Emily says softly, her voice shy but filled with warmth. A lump forms in your throat as you smile at her, deeply touched by the thoughtful gesture. “They’re beautiful, thank you,” you say, your voice catching slightly.

“Thank you all so much,” you say to the gathered women, suddenly tearful as you feel overwhelmed with gratitude for the love and support surrounding you. Donna begins refilling everyone’s glasses. “Let’s do a toast,” she says once everyone is holding a full glass.

“Wait!” Sandy says, running to her purse and retrieving her camera. “Everyone gather in front of the fireplace around the future bride!” she says excitedly, and all the women surround you as Sandy prepares to take the photo.

“Everyone cheers to the future bride!” Sandy yells, and the camera flashes, capturing you and all of your friends for the wonderful memory.

The night continues with laughter and stories, the warmth of friendship surrounding you as you celebrate the eve of your wedding day.

Den of Wolves

Benny arrives at the Vandals’ biker club, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. He’s seen his fair share of wild nights with the boys, but tonight feels different he knows they’ve got it in for him. He sucks in a deep breath to prepare himself for the inevitable mauling by the den of wolves waiting inside.

Benny pushes open the doors to the sound of Blues blaring from the jukebox, as soon as he steps inside, the crowd of bikers turns their attention to him and rush to greet him. “Benny!” some yell out as they playfully assault him with rough pats on the back and ruffle his hair.

Cal, wraps an arm around Benny, pulling him into a side hug. “Here he is, the man of the hour!” he yells triumph making Benny laugh as he ushered into the club.

Johnny grins from the bar and yells  out, “Glad you decided to show up Benny ! Trouble with the Mrs?” He says pointing at the clock above the bar.

“No, quite the opposite,” Benny yells, flashing a grin.

Then men erupt into laughter and Wahoo grabs Benny by the shoulders . “That poor delicate woman Benny, your gonna break her if you can’t stop being such a dog” he yells and the men erupt  into a fit of laughter as Benny pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to contain his bashful smile of embarrassment.

“Get this man drunk and quick!” Corky shouts, and the men all cheer in agreement, raising their glasses in a toast.

They settle into the familiar routine of playing pool and smoking, the camaraderie easing Benny’s nerves. As he chats with Cal, enjoying the normalcy of the night, he finally begins to relax.

Suddenly, Wahoo and Corky grab Benny by the arms, pulling him backward and landing him in a chair. Benny laughs, playfully fighting to get up, but Corky yells, “Hold him down! I paid good money for this!” and the other bikers join in, holding Benny in place despite his protest.

“C’mon, guys, don’t,” Benny pleads, but his words fall on deaf ears as Wahoo folds a rag and blindfolds him.

“It’s not cheating if you can’t see it,” Wahoo says with a cackle, drawing laughter from the crowd. “Touching’s free, looking will cost ya!” Corky adds, and the bikers laugh at his clear misinterpretation.

Benny, unable to move, relents knowing that whatever they have planned, it’s all in good fun.

The men begin to whistle, and Benny hears the distinct sound of high heels clicking on the wooden floor. His heart rate increases, and his blood runs cold as he realizes it’s real—they’ve in fact hired a stripper.

“Who’s the one getting treated here?” she asks with a sultry voice, trailing her hand up his leg as the room erupts in cheers and laughter “Benny” they yell in unison.

She lifts the hem of his shirt, taking a peek at his abs. “Tsk, tsk, tsk Benny what a lucky woman,” she says, leaning in close enough for him smell her perfume. “Too bad we’re going to ruin all that for a night of fun,” she teases.

On her cue, a rock song starts playing, and Benny can hear the men lower their chattering with growing excitement as she begins to dance.

They begin whistling as she strips down to her bra and panties and walks closer quickly straddling Benny’s lap. Her hips rolls against him to the rhythm of the music and the bikers can’t contain their excitement, hooting and hollering at the spectacle.

She runs her fingers through Benny’s hair and down his chest, her touch light but teasing. Benny keeps his composure, though inside he feels a wave of humiliation setting in as his face flushes. Seeing this, the men around him grow rowdier, egging her on to do more.

“Relax, for me handsome,” she whispers in his ear, her lips grazing his skin. “I promise I don’t bite—unless you want me to.” She teases

Benny finally chuckles, his face turning bright red from the sheer embarrassment of the ordeal. “I’m good, thanks,” he replies, keeping his voice light.

“Are you sure?” she asks playfully and removes his blindfold. As the cloth falls away, she is the one stunned, seeing his handsome face. “What a looker,” she says, flashing him a mischievous grin. “Let’s make sure you have an extra good time tonight.” She winks.

With that, she begins to dance on him with practiced ease, her movements fluid and confident. She holds his knees her body moving  with the rhythm of the music, her long hair cascading over her shoulders as she leans back maintaining eye contact with Benny, her smile playful and teasing. The bikers continue to cheer, tossing dollar bills at her in every direction, the room filled with hoots and laughter.

“C’mon, Benny, enjoy the show I paid good for this!” Wahoo yells, raising his beer to celebrate and the men erupt into more laughter and encouragement, adding to the wild atmosphere.

Benny endures the lap dance, grateful for his friends’ enthusiasm but relieved when the routine finally comes to an end.

“Thanks for playing along, handsome,” she says with a teasing smile. With a smooth, practiced motion, she climbs off Benny’s lap, gathering the scattered bills into a neat stack. As she struts across the room, she glances over her shoulder at Benny, flashing him a flirtatious smile and blowing him a kiss before disappearing into the crowd.

The bikers erupt into applause, slapping Benny on the back and congratulating him on surviving the spectacle and  Benny relaxes, grateful that the unexpected show is over.

As the men let Benny up, he sighs in relief, shaking his head as they continue to tease him.

More girls enter the bar, and Benny groans, thinking the night isn’t over yet and Johnny chimes in seeing his dismay “Nah, nah, Benny, you’ve had your fun. This is for the boys.” He yells and the room erupts into cheers as the women begin selecting their bikers, each one pulling her chosen man along with playful gestures and flirtatious smiles. A brief scuffle breaks out over one of the girls, but it’s quickly broken up by the others, who laugh it off and return to the festivities.

As the party continues, Benny sneaks out front to have a smoke, needing a moment of peace. The only thing on his mind is you and what you’re doing tonight without him. He knows he won’t see you until tomorrow, and the thought tugs at him.

He leans against his bike, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep drag, the smoke curling into the night air as he stands deep in thought.

Johnny steps outside, spotting Benny resting against his bike. “There ya are! I’ve been looking all over for ya,” he says, pulling out a cigarette of his own and lighting it as he joins Benny.

They stay in complete silence for a moment as they smoke, the only sounds being distant laughter and music from inside.

Johnny pulls a drag and exhales, finally glancing over at Benny. “What’s going on in that head of yours kid?” He asks.

Benny exhales slowly, watching the smoke dissipate. “Just thinking about her. She’s all I can ever think about, even with all this going on.” He admits.

Johnny nods, understanding. “She’s special, Benny. You’re lucky to have found someone like her. Don’t let anything muck that up.”

Benny smiles weakly, appreciating the sentiment. “I know. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I just worry, you know?”

Johnny claps him on the shoulder. “We all worry. But you can be a good man Benny. Just be that for her and everything else will fall into place.”

Benny takes another drag of his cigarette, mulling  over Johnnys  words as he exhales. “Thanks, Johnny.” He says appreciatively.

Johnny grins, flicking his cigarette butt to the ground. “Anytime, kid. Now, let’s get back inside before they send out a search party.”

Benny grins and with a final nod, they head back inside, ready to rejoin the chaos of the night.

‘Til Death 

The day of the wedding unfolds under a perfect sky, the sun shining brightly as a gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the towering trees surrounding the serene lake. The setting is idyllic, the grand expanse of water providing a stunning backdrop to the ceremony, its calm surface reflecting the lush greenery and the clear blue sky.

A beautifully decorated flowered awning stands at the center of the ceremony space, its arch adorned with cascading white blooms. The delicate flowers exude a subtle fragrance that mingles with the fresh scent of the lake, enhancing the romantic atmosphere.

The guests are seated in rows of white chairs, all facing the flowered awning. The excitement in the air is undeniable , everyone chatting quietly as they await the start of the ceremony. The guests are a diverse mix of your friends and their families, with dates, and the Vandals with their families and partners. All of the vandals are dressed in their club colors, adding a unique dedicated touch to the gathering.

An elegant runner, lined with petals, stretches from the entrance of the ceremony space to the pastor standing beneath the archway.

Benny stands at the forefront of his groomsmen on the left of the archway, all donned in their Vandals colors. His heart is pounding in his chest with excitement and anticipation as he prepares to marry the love of his life. His mind only focused on seeing you again as he looks out into the crowd of gathered guests, feeling the significance of the ceremony.

A guitarist begins to play a soft melody, the gentle notes floating through the air and the music sets the perfect tone for the ceremony, its soothing rhythm adding to the peaceful ambiance.

As the music continues, the excitement builds. All eyes turn expectantly toward the start of the aisle, awaiting the bride’s entrance.

In the curtained bridal tent, the air is filled with excitement and nervous energy.

You glance at your self in the mirror as Betty stands beside you, giving you a last minute look over. She gently adjusts your veil, ensuring it drapes perfectly over your shoulders, and steps back as she and Gale admire her handiwork.

“You look absolutely stunning,” Betty  says with a warm smile, her eyes shining with pride. 

“Benny’s a lucky man, and he knows it.” Gail adds 

Their words fill you with warmth and reassurance, helping to calm your nerves. You take a deep breath looking to Betty. “Thank you for everything,” you say sincerely, grateful for her arrangements and planning.

Betty smiles warmly and hands you your bouquet, a beautiful arrangement of flowers that perfectly complements your dress. “Go get him sweetie,” she says with an encouraging wink.

She and Gail hold open the curtains of the tent, and you step out from the secluded area surrounded by towering oak leaf hydrangeas.

Your heart swells with emotion as you reach the clearing, pausing for a moment to take in the breathtaking scene at the lake before you. 

Your eyes are immediately drawn to Benny standing at the archway, looking as handsome as ever in his Vandal colors.

Your heart races with a blend of excitement and love as you see Benny waiting for you in front of all the wedding guests.

The moment he smiles at you, a surge of confidence and happiness fills your heart, and you begin your walk down the aisle, the significance of the day washing over you with every step. As you approach, Benny’s nervousness melts away, replaced by a radiant smile that spreads across his lips, his love for you evident in every glance.

Johnny nudges him gently, whispering with a grin, “Damn, Benny, she’s gorgeous.”

Benny, unable to take his eyes off you, nods. “I know, Johnny. I can’t believe she’s mine.”

Johnny chuckles softly, leaning in closer. “You’d better take good care of her, or the whole club’ll be on your ass,” he teases.

Benny grins, his gaze never leaving you as you approach. “I will, Johnny. She’s my everything.”

You look ethereal, a vision in white as your eyes lock onto Benny’s. The members of the club, their faces usually hardened by years of rough living, soften as they watch you. Johnny Cal,and Brusy stand proudly as his groomsmen, their leather cuts a stark contrast to the delicate flowers decorating the awning. 

As you walk down the aisle, the old ladies of the club’s eyes glisten with a mix of pride and nostalgia. They have seen Benny through his darkest times, and now they are witnessing a moment of pure joy, seeing him truly in love. You nod to Sara, Emily, and Donna as you reach your place in front of the archway, their faces barely able to contain their emotions.

Standing before Benny, you marvel at how handsome he looks, his blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. As his lips curve into a tender smile, you see the depth of his emotions, reflecting the profound commitment you’re both about to make,and your heart swells with love and anticipation for soon being his wife.

The pastor stands between you, his presence a comforting anchor in the profound moment of your commitment. His voice is calm and reassuring as he begins the ceremony, guiding you through each step with a gentle authority.

Benny takes your hands in his, squeezing them lightly, sending a rush of warmth and joy through you. As he speaks, his voice is steady and filled with affection, making the moment feel incredibly intimate and profound.

“I promise to stand by you through every adventure and challenge,” he says, his eyes locked on yours, filled with gratitude and sincerity.

“I vow to love and cherish you every day of our lives, to protect and support you, and to be your partner in all things.” His voice continues, filled with emotion and passion. “You are my heart, my true love, and I will cherish every moment we share. I promise to be faithfully yours now and forever.”

As Benny finishes, his eyes glisten with excitement barely contained. He takes a deep breath, smiling widely, his whole being radiating warmth and love. He squeezes your hands gently, drawing you closer.

His emotional vows touch you deeply, and you can feel tears well up in your eyes and train your focus on the feel of his hands in yours swallowing hard to compose yourself.

You take a deep breath, feeling a rush of emotions as you prepare to say your vows in return.

“I promise to love you with all my heart,” you begin, your voice gentle yet firm. “To be by your side in everything, sharing our joys and facing any challenges together. I vow to fill our lives with devotion and love.”

You take a moment to gather your emotions, your voice shaking slightly as you continue,

“I promise to support your dreams and encourage you every step of the way, to create a home filled with warmth and understanding.” You pause, your heart full as you look at him. Taking another deep breath, steadying yourself as you finish “I will be your confidant and your partner. And I promise to be faithfully yours now and always.”

Benny’s eyes, usually confident and steady, are visibly touched by your heartfelt vows. As he gazes at you, his eyes soften, reflecting the deep blend of love and admiration he holds for you.

He gently squeezes your hands, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles, offering a silent affirmation of his love and gratitude.

Your guests, bearing witness, exchange knowing smiles filled with admiration and approval. A few shed tears, touched by the sincerity and love in your shared words.

With the vows exchanged, the pastor nods and gestures toward the small velvet box held by the best man, Johnny, who opens it to reveal the ring. Benny takes your ring, a delicate handmade band he created that matches his own.

“Benny,” the pastor prompts gently, “please place the ring on her finger and repeat after me.”

Benny slides the ring onto your finger, his touch warm and sure. “With this ring, I thee wed,” he says, his voice filled with emotion. “I give you this ring as a sign of my love and faithfulness.”

You feel the cool metal settle against your skin, a tangible reminder of the bond you now share. Then it’s your turn. Sarah, as maid of honor, opens the velvet box she’s holding, revealing a simple band that matches yours. You take Benny’s ring, feeling its reassuring weight in your palm.

“Please place the ring on his finger and repeat after me,” the pastor instructs.

You slide the ring onto Benny’s finger, your hand steady despite the excitement fluttering in your chest. “With this ring, I thee wed,” you repeat, your voice filled with sincerity and love. “I give you this ring as a sign of my love and faithfulness.”

With the rings in place, you both take a moment to admire the symbols of your commitment, feeling the significance of the exchange settle in your hearts. The pastor smiles warmly, sealing the moment with a nod of approval.

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife,” the pastor asks Benny, “to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?”

Benny looks into your eyes, his voice steady and filled with emotion as he responds, “I do.”

The pastor then turns to you. “Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?”

You meet Benny’s gaze, your heart full of love and certainty. “I do,” you reply, your voice clear and strong.

With the vows exchanged, the pastor smiles warmly and says, “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Benny’s eyes are filled with joy and excitement as he steps closer, lifting your veil with a mix of tenderness and urgency.

His hands cradle your jaw as he leans in and kisses you, his lips moving against yours in perfect harmony, reflecting the love and commitment you’ve just vowed to each other. The kiss is full of passion and promise, and the crowd erupts into cheers and applause around you.

As you and Benny gently part from the kiss, everyone stands, celebrating the beautiful moment with enthusiastic applause.

Benny looks at you with a beautiful smile, feeling elated and deeply in love. He takes your hand, squeezing it gently as you both turn to face your cheering friends.

You see Sandy capturing the moment with a quick flash of the camera, and Johnny gives Benny a playful clap on the back. “Welcome to married life, kid,” he says, grinning.

Sarah rushes over to you, caught up in the excitement. “I’m so happy for you two!” she exclaims, looking at you and Benny, her eyes glistening with tears of joy.

The pastor then steps forward to complete the ceremony and announces.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Cross.”

Benny holds your hand firmly as you exchange elated smiles walking down the aisle together for the first time as husband and wife. The crowd erupts into cheers, the air charged with excitement and joy as your friends surround you, celebrating your new life together.

After the ceremony, the festivities move to the outdoor dance floor set up under twinkling string lights. The live band strikes up a tune that fills the air with rhythm. Guests mingle around the tables their laughter and chatter adding to the joyful atmosphere.

The first dance is a magical moment. As the sun sets behind the lake Benny leads you onto the dance floor as the band plays a slow, romantic song.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you sway together, lost in each other’s eyes. The world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you in bliss. Your friends surround the dance floor, watching with smiles and snapping photos to capture the beautiful moment.

After the dance, Johnny takes to the stage delivering a speech. His words are filled with humor and heartfelt sincerity, making everyone laugh and tear up as he finishes. “Benny, you’ve found yourself a real gem,” he says, raising his glass. “May your life together be full of love, laughter, and endless adventures.”

Every one raises and clinks their glasses in cheers. Johnny takes a drink before he continues with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“And Benny,” he adds, pausing to let the crowd settle down. “Now that you’ve got yourself a wife, you need to remember just one thing—”

The bikers, anticipating his line, all join in with a loud chorus: “Always ride her harder than your Harley!”

The entire crowd erupts into laughter and cheers as the bikers pound their fists on the tables in unison. Benny lifts his glass of whiskey high, grinning from ear to ear. “To my beautiful wife!” he calls out and the crowd echoes with cheers as you look to each other unable to contain the immense happiness you feel for one another.

Sarah follows with her emotional speech, sharing stories of your childhood friendship and expressing how happy she is and how proud your parents would be to see you so in love. By the end, she’s tearing up, wiping her eyes as she finishes with a toast, “You two amazing people are even better together and I’m so glad you found each other,” she says her voice shaking with emotion as she smiles.

You nod to her, overwhelmed with gratitude, and Benny gently places his arm around you, seeing you become emotional. As you begin to tremble, he hands you a handkerchief, comfortingly caressing your arm.

Your tears well up as you wipe your eyes, feeling the warmth of the moment. “I love you, Sarah!” you yell out, your voice filled with affection and appreciation.”

She smiles warmly, making her way to your table to give you a quick hug. “I love you too,” she whispers “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make is cry “ she says smiling through happy tears as she helps you pat dry the makeup under your eyes with a gentle touch.

When the food is served, the guests enjoy the meal, mingling and sharing stories as they eat. The mix of bikers and locals creates a vibrant and unique atmosphere, with laughter and conversation flowing freely.

Later, as it’s time to cut the cake, you and Benny approach the tiered confection, adorned with flowers that match your bouquet. With laughter and playful banter, you cut the first slice together, feeding each other big bites earning cheers and applause from the crowd. The guests look on, delighted by the sweet and lighthearted moment, capturing the joy and love shared between you and Benny.

As the night goes on, the bouquet toss becomes a highlight. You gather the single women onto the dance floor and turn your back to them, tossing the bouquet over your shoulder. Donna is the one who catches it and laughs, holding it up triumphantly as everyone bursts into applause.

The festivities continue, with guests dancing and enjoying themselves until they’re thoroughly tipsy, most of the Vandals already drunk, as the band plays energetic songs and the dance floor fills with people letting loose and celebrating.

With the evening drawing to a close, the Vandals prepare for a biker send-off. They line up near the dance floor, engines rumbling, as Benny climbs onto his bike, kick-starting it with a roar.

He offers his hand to you, and you carefully gather your wedding dress climbing onto the back. You can’t help but admire how valiant Benny looks, sitting tall and confident on his bike. His strength and presence fill you with satisfaction, and as you wrap your arms around him tightly , feeling utterly devoted and completely in love with him.

A “Just Married” sign is attached to the back of his bike, and a corsage of roses decorates the wheel mount, adding a romantic touch to his rugged Harley. Emily stands ready with her camera, capturing the moment as you wave goodbye to your guests and everyone cheers.

You ride down the line of roaring engines, your veil blowing in the wind, the cool night air filled with excitement and promise as you and Benny ride off into the night, ready to begin your new adventurous life together.

Honey Moon Phase 

As you ride home from your wedding on the back of Benny’s bike, the engine roars beneath you, the feeling vibrating through your body. You hold onto him tightly, your arms wrapped around his waist, feeling the thrill of the ride and the wind rushing past.

The excitement of being married to Benny is overwhelming, and you let out a scream of pure joy, unable to contain your exhilaration any longer.

Benny laughs hearing your excitement, “I love you baby” he yells over the wind and you lean against him closer “I love you too Benny” you say loudly as you cling onto him tighter.

He speeds up weaving through traffic with the precision of a seasoned rider. Some cars honk as they spot the “Just Married” sign on the back of the bike, their drivers waving and cheering as you pass by.

As you reach the streets near your home, it’s well into the night. Benny slows the bike, the roar of the engine fading to a gentle purr as he parks in front of your home. He helps you off the bike, and instead of letting you stand, he lifts you up effortlessly, cradling you in his arms.

“Mrs. Cross, we’re home now,” he says with a handsome grin, and you giggle in his embrace, feeling a thrill as he carries you in his strong arms. “I’m your wife now, Benny,” you smile, and as he smiles in return, you see the warmth in his eyes deepen.

He carries you to the front door, shifting you slightly in his arms as he pulls out his key and unlocks it. With a smooth motion, he carries you over the threshold and sets you down gently inside with hands around your waist.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a tender kiss before softly pulling away. “I can’t believe we’re finally married, Benny. It feels incredible,” you say, gazing into the depths of his blue eyes.

He affectionately touches your veil then smiles gently as he caresses your cheek. “It is incredible,” he says, his eyes filled with warmth. “And I’m so glad I get to spend the rest of my life with you,” he adds, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips.

You gaze up at him, your eyes filled with admiration, before lowering your gaze to his lips, your mind racing with anticipation.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, searching your eyes with a playful curiosity.

“I have a surprise for you, Benny,” you reply, looking up at him through your lashes with a seductive smile.

“Show me,” he whispers, his voice filled with desire, his eyes locked onto yours with anticipation.

You take his hand and lead him upstairs, feeling the excitement building between you two. He gathers your dress as you walk, careful not to let it drag. Once in the bedroom, you click on the lights and turn your back to him so he can unbutton your gown, holding the front to keep it from falling once he does.

After he finishes, you turn to him with a playful smile. “Take off your clothing and wait for me on the bed, Benny,” you gently command, your eyes filled with desire as you point to the bed.

Benny grins, catching the hint of naughtiness in your expression, and readily complies, starting by eagerly taking off his boots.

You walk to the closet as he undresses, pulling the Lily of France box from its place on the shelf. With the box in hand, you head to the bathroom, eager to slip into the lingerie within.

Just as you reach the door, you let your wedding dress glide down to the floor, revealing your body adorned in nothing but a pair of delicate lace panties.

Glancing back, you see Benny already watching you intently, his eyes filled with desire as he takes you in. He slips off his jacket, sliding it over his broad shoulders, then lifts the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head to reveal his toned chest and abs. He tosses it aside, his gaze never leaving you, his expression hungry and filled with longing, making it clear how much he wants you.

You smile at him seductively, enjoying the effect you have on him, then slip inside the bathroom, locking the door behind you to ensure he won’t ruin his surprise.

You take a moment to collect yourself, the anticipation heightening the thrill of the what you have in store for him.

As you open the box, you feel a rush of excitement upon seeing the beautiful lingerie set inside again. You run your fingers over the delicate lace and silk, imagining the look on Benny’s face when you reveal yourself wearing it. The thought makes your heart race with anticipation.

After quickly rinsing off and slipping into the lingerie, you take a moment to admire yourself in the mirror, feeling both confident and excited. The set fits perfectly, accentuating your curves and adding a touch of elegance and allure.

With a deep breath, you unlock the bathroom door and step out, ready to surprise Benny. His eyes widen as he takes in the sight of you, appreciation and desire clearly written on his face.

“Wow,” he breathes, sitting up on the bed, his eyes traveling over you appreciatively. “You look incredible,” he says, his voice filled with genuine awe.

You smile, feeling both nervous and empowered by his reaction. “I wanted our first night as husband and wife to be special.” You admit biting your lip and sliding your hands down your curves.

Benny reaches out to you, his eyes filled with lust and admiration. “It already is. Come here.” He says eagerly

You step toward him, your eyes drawn to the sheet draped loosely around his waist, barely concealing the size of his large cock. The sight sends a thrill through you, and as soon as you’re within reach, he gently takes hold of you, his hands warm against your skin as he lays you down on the bed.

“You’re so beautiful,” he compliments, his voice filled with admirations as his hands caress down your body, feeling the delicate lace under his fingertips.

His full lips press onto yours, kissing you softly at first, then deepening the connection you’ve both been longing for. The anticipation of the night melts away, leaving only the shared intimacy that draws you closer together.

His lips trail down to your collarbone, then up the side of your neck. He cups your breast, his hand resting on the delicate silk as he pauses, his breath warm against your ear. “I want you to wear this while I’m inside of you,” he whispers, his voice low and thick and you nod in feeling the intensity of the moment.

Benny takes his time, tracing over every curve as his fingertips glide over the lace. He kisses along your neck and shoulders, his lips trailing down to the swell of your breasts, teasing and tasting as he goes, drawing soft moans from your lips.

His eyes wander over your body, appreciating every curve in the delicate silk. Then gently rests his hand on your chest, feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat beneath his fingertips, his blue eyes softening as he looks into your eyes.

“I knew from our first night together that I wanted you forever,” he reveals, his touch becoming more intimate as his hand caresses your skin. “Now that you’re mine, I’m going to fulfill you in every way possible,” he promises, his words resonating deeply in your heart.

A soft smile spreads across your lips gazing back at him. “I want you forever too Benny” you reply staring into the depths of his blue eyes.

Your response makes him smile as his eyes darken with desire. “I’m going to make good on my word ,” he vows.

You breathe a soft sigh as his fingers lower the lace of your bra, exposing your soft nipples to the cool air. He takes one into his mouth, lightly sucking as his tongue gently circles the sensitive skin.

His hand kneads the soft flesh of your other breast in his large palm, squeezing gently and drawing a gasp from your lips.

His warm tongue continues to trace circles and flick your nipple until it is wet and sensitive then he releases it with a soft pull.

You moan as he cups and squeezes your breast making your nipple more pronounced.

He quickly gives equal attention to the other, breast, every swirl of his tongue and pull off his warm mouth sending pleasure directly to your core.

He releases both of your nipples, each glistening with wetness, and squeezes your breasts firmly in his hands making you moan before continuing to kiss down your body, leaving a trail of warmth and anticipation in his wake.

His hands trace the curve of your sides as his lips brush lightly against your ribs, his touch slow and deliberate, teasing you as his hands glide down your sides, trailing his fingertips along your soft skin.

Reaching your hips, his hands spread wide, his thumbs gently stroking the delicate curve of your waist as his lips press tender kisses down your navel.

He moves lower down to your panty line and your breath catches in anticipation as he pauses, savoring the moment.

His tongue flicks out, teasing the sensitive skin just above your panties, drawing a soft moan from your lips as your body responds to the exquisite torment, craving more.

His fingers skim along your inner thighs, knowing exactly where your skin is most sensitive and a gasp escapes your lips.

He brushes his thumb lightly across the front of your panties and you clench in response, the anticipation making you moan.

He leans in closer, his warm breath caressing your skin, sending shivers up your spine.

“You’re so special to me,” he whispers breathlessly, his voice thick with emotion as he presses soft, lingering kisses to your inner thighs, savoring every inch of your delicate skin.

“I want to worship every part of you,” he praises, his voice becoming more hushed as he kisses higher, closer to your core.

His tongue traces a line of heat up to your panties, his breath warm and heavy against your skin and the sensation leaves you breathless.

Your sighs of pleasure are like music to his ears as he gently sucks the tender flesh of your inner thigh into his mouth.

The gentle suction of his mouth, paired with the softness of his lips, contrasts sharply with the rough scrape of his stubble.

His teeth graze your sensitive skin, just enough to make your inner muscles clench in anticipation as a soft moan escapes your lips.

“Benny, please,” you whisper, your voice breathy and filled with need, the warmth of his breath and the lingering sensations from his teeth driving you wild with desire.

He hums in satisfaction, savoring your reaction and softly releases his bite. “I’m always going to satisfy you, baby,” he promises, sliding his hand between your legs.

His fingers press against the silk of your panties, feeling the wetness seeping through.

You gasp as he finds your clit, deliberately flicking it through the soft fabric. His touch sends waves of pleasure rippling through your core as you moan, your voice trembling with need.

“Benny… please, more,” you beg, your voice barely a whisper and he responds instantly, quickening his pace, flicking his fingertips faster on your clit. The increasing pressure sends surges of pleasure jolting through your core.

Your moans grow endless with the sound of your wetness squishing as he teases you.your panties soaking through until they are drenched.

“Is this what you want baby? He asks but he has built the tension so high that you’re sent spiraling into a state of overstimulation.

Your hips roll as if he is inside of you, and your inner walls rhythmically clench around nothing, desperately needing to be filled.

“Benny, please, I need you inside me,” you beg loudly your voice almost breaking. Your hips lift from the bed, your body aching with an overwhelming force, desperate for his penetration.

With a confident smile, Benny pauses and repositions himself above you, his intense desire reflected in his gaze. “I’ve got you,” he assures you and captures your lips in a searing kiss fulfilling his promise and slipping your panties aside pushing his fingers deeply within you as you moan into his mouth.

He curls his fingers expertly, finding the perfect spot within, and your moans of pleasure are swallowed by his kiss as waves of ecstasy radiate through your body. The precise movement of his fingers leaving you trembling.

Feeling how soaked you are, he grins and leans down to whisper in your ear, “You want more, don’t you, baby?” His voice is teasing yet full of promise.

You nod, your breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps and he feels your need as every inch of his fingers thrusts in and out of you. He intensifies the sensation, adding his thumb to circle your clit and the relentless teasing drives you wild, keeping you hovering on the brink of release.

“… Benny please,” you cry out, your voice filled with desperation and pleasure, his name spilling from your lips as you struggle to hold on under the merciless assault of his touch.

Then, just as you begin to gasp and moan, pushing your hips in time with his hand, he withdraws his fingers with an agonizing slowness.

“Benny, you can’t!,” you cry, your voice breathy and filled with need as the sensation of him slipping his fingers out leaves you aching and quivering with desire.

“I know, baby,” he soothes, positioning his hard throbbing cock to your entrance. “I’ll always give you what you need,” he promises.

He places his hand firmly on your hip, guiding his tip into your entrance and then with a deliberate heavy thrust, he begins gliding the rest of his large shaft inside.

The warmth and hardness of his cock eagerly push into your sensitive walls, drawing moans of pleasure from your lips. His eyes are locked onto yours, revealing just how much he’s savoring the moment as he fills you slowly, claiming you with his size.

“God, you feel so good,” he breathes, his fingers digging into your hip as he pushes a little deeper. “You’re going to take every inch of me, aren’t you?” he asks, his voice thick with desire.

“Y-yes, Benny” you moan, your voice trembling with need as you feel every inch of him stretching and filling your walls tight around his cock.

“Good girl,” he groans and pushes deeper, pressing his hips firmly between your legs as his cock fills you entirely. “Feel every inch of me,” he rasps, his voice thick with desire

He begins to thrust slow and steady each movement hard and powerful, driving his cock deeply inside of you as his muscles tense.

Your eyes lock onto each other, the connection deepening with each precise thrust of his hips. The sensation of him filling you completely leaves you breathless, your body straining to accommodate his size.

“Tell me… how good I make you feel,” he whispers against your lips, his breath warm and tantalizing on your skin.

“Benny…you feel incredible!” you moan, the depth of your pleasure unmistakable.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his hand slipping between your bodies. His thumb expertly finding your clit, circling it in a perfect rhythm with each thrust.

The dual sensations cause your body to arch against his as he moves within you, his relentless pace on your clit sending you spiraling toward the brink of ecstasy.

His gaze softens with admiration as he locks eyes with you, drinking in the sight of you moaning in pleasure.

“There’s nothing better than this,” he breathes, his voice thick with raw passion, “nothing better than feeling you like this, knowing you’re mine.” He whispers

You respond with a breathless moan, your body trembling with the intensity as your fingers tangle in his hair.

Every powerful thrust pushes you both closer to the edge, the overwhelming pleasure amplifying with every deep stroke of his cock.

“You gonna come, baby?” he rasps, his voice thick with urgency as he thrusts harder.

“Yes, Benny,” you cry out, your voice filled with desperation and need.

Benny thrusts falter and he almost loses control his breath hitching as he feels himself about to come.

A low groan escapes him, the intensity almost too much to bear and he suddenly withdraws his cock out of you completely.

“Benny!!” you cry out in disbelief , the loss leaving you breathless, your core aching for him desperately.

He lowers himself between your legs, his breath hot against your inner thighs. “Let me taste you, as you come in my mouth. Then I’ll be back inside you, giving you everything you need.” He promises

He rolls his thumb around your clit, stroking it with expert precision, making you arch from the bed and latches his mouth onto your folds, flicking and circling his tongue with an intensity that sends you spiraling over the edge.

“Benny, oh god!” you moan, your hips pushing against his mouth as he plunges his tongue deep inside you. He explores with a firm, rhythmic motion, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your core. Your vision blurs from the intensity as you let go completely, crying out his name in pure ecstasy.

Benny holds you steady as you come, your warm release squirting directly in his mouth as he eagerly laps up every drop continuing to savors your taste with his tongue. His hands squeeze your hips holding you steady as you ride out the aftershocks of pleasure.

When you begin to catch your breath, Benny climbs back up your satisfied body, his lips brushing softly against yours. “I’m going to make you feel that pleasure all over again,” he promises, his voice rough with arousal.

A soft cry escapes your lips as he grips your hips and firmly pushes into you with one powerful stroke. The penetration of his large cock glides into your eager walls, and you gasp in pleasure as he begins to thrust deep and deliberate, each motion driving you closer to the edge once more.

The sound of his hips rhythmically clapping against you begin filling the room, echoing loudly with each powerful thrust. The bed creaks beneath you as his forceful movements push you both to the edge of control. His grip on your hips tightens, guiding you to meet each thrust of his cock sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

“Take it all, baby,” he urges, his pace unrelenting, his hands hold your hips steady as he drives into you again and again.

His grunts mingle with your cries of pleasure and you feel yourself spiraling toward another climax, the intensity building until you can’t hold back any longer.

“Benny!” you scream in ecstasy, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your muscles clench his cock as you reach your peak, the sensation overwhelming. “Yes, Benny, yes!” you cry out, your voice trembling and filled with sheer pleasure as you orgasm.

“That’s it, baby,” he groans, his voice rough with satisfaction. He shudders against you, reaching his own peak as your bodies collide in the throes of passion.

“You’re gonna make me come so hard,” he rasps, his eyes filled with desperation and desire as he looks at you.

With a deep, guttural groan, his cock throbs inside you, his entire body tensing with each pulse of his release. His grip on your hips tightens as the warmth of his cum fills you, each surge sending waves of heat through your body.

You both moan together as he continues to thrust slowly, prolonging every last moment riding out the waves of pleasure, unwilling to let it end.

As he slows his movements even more, he gazes into your eyes feeling the deep connection between you both, cherishing every second.

With his body completely weakened from the powerful orgasm, he carefully lays down on top of you his body heavy with exhaustion.

His breaths of exertion brush against your face as he leans in, capturing your lips in an erotic kiss, savoring every ounce of passion you just shared.

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, holding him steady as you both come down from your incredible high.

Benny rests his forehead against yours, and his eyes close, as you simply breathe together. The intimacy of the moment is profound and he pulls back slightly to look at you, his eyes soft and filled with emotion.

“I love you,” he says gazing into your eyes, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. “And I’m going to make sure you know that every day for the rest of our lives,” he promises, the intensity of his words making your heart swell.

“I love you too, Benny,” you reply, your voice full of sincerity as your fingertips gently trace his jawline.

Your touch lingers as he caresses your cheek with his thumb, and he leans his head against your hand letting you cradle his face in your palm. A warm smile spreads across your lips, feeling the deepening connection between you both.

He moves in gently and kisses you slowly, sliding his large cock from your warmth. As he pulls out, a soft sigh escapes your lips, his absence leaving a subtle ache. His hands move skillfully down as he takes off your lingerie, tugging at the waistband of your panties, gently working with the straps and fasteners to slip all of the delicate fabric from your skin.

Once you are completely naked he gently lays back on top of you, his body a warm comforting weight. You stroke his hair, your fingers running through the soft strands as he lays his head on your chest and his heartbeat is a steady rhythm against yours, as you feel the warmth of his skin.

His hand rests on your hip, his thumb lightly drawing slow, soothing circles as he savors the closeness. “I could stay like this forever,” he murmurs againt your skin, as his eyes drift shut with a contented smile.

You gently pull your fingers though his hair as you warmly smile. “Me too, Benny,” you say, feeling the profound sense of peace and love in the moment

The exhaustion from the wedding and the exertion from your intimacy finally take hold. You both begin to drift into a deep and peaceful sleep, the world fading away, leaving only the warmth of Bennys against you wrapped in your loving embrace.

Honeymoon Phase

The weeks following your ceremony are pure wedded bliss. You and Benny spend every waking moment together, cooking, planning, riding, passionately love making whenever the mood strikes. The devotion between you two increasing every day, creating a world where it seems to be just the two of you.

As the weeks pass, Benny slowly begins to accept that this is his home too, and with your permission, he transforms your father’s garage into his true biker’s haven.

Benny fills the workspace with bike parts. He buys toolboxes and creates a lowered workbench so he can work conveniently alongside his motorcycle. He inherently becomes another mechanic just like Cal, often fixing bikes for members of the Vandals.

The garage becomes a testament to his love for motorcycles, each corner filled with tools and parts that reflect his passion and skill.

When you check on him from time to time, he is always surrounded by the scent of oil and metal, with the low hum of rock and roll softly playing on the radio in the background.

Whenever he sees you, his eyes light up, and that radiant, beautiful smile of his spreads across his face, always expressing his appreciation and gratitude for being able to work in his element. You can tell how much it means to him to have a space that’s truly his own, where he can hone his skills and pursue his passions. It fills your heart with happiness, knowing that you and Benny are creating a home where both of you can fully be yourselves.

One day, feeling sentimental, you finally ask Benny the question you’ve been holding back. You ask if he would like to come with you to pay respects to your parents. Benny readily agrees, throwing on his jacket and riding out with you to the hillside cemetery.

As you stand before the headstones, there’s a moment of quiet reflection, Benny feels a deep ache in his heart for you, imagining what it must be like to have parents who loved and cared so much only to be taken away.

He learns for the first time that your parents passed away in a car crash, the revelation leaves him reeling. As you step forward to place flowers on their graves, he quickly collects you in his arms as you step back, pulling you into his comforting embrace.

He wraps his arms around you with a fierce protectiveness, holding you so close that it’s as though he’s trying to shield you from the pain.

“Your parents ..were …real nice folks,” he says gently,and his hands grip you so tightly it makes you look over at him, seeing him struggle to find his words.

“Benny, it’s alright,” you say, gently patting his hand, noticing the stress etched on his face. You can see him caught between his instinct to protect you and his uncertainty about how to help.

“I’m alright, really Benny” you assure him, squeezing his hand and he breathes a sigh of relief, unsure of how to comfort you.

“My mother and father would’ve loved you, Benny,” you reveal with a warm smile. “Especially you being into repairing your own bike. My dad would’ve enjoyed your company greatly.” You assure him.

Benny, still at a loss for words, offers a light smile as he holds you close, his hand gently stroking your arm in a comforting gesture.

Together, you pay your respects in silence, a shared understanding forming between you two. After everything else in this world the teo of you will only have each other.

Domesticated

One afternoon, during a ride back into town with the Vandals, Benny feels a confidence to invite the crew to his home. The house quickly fills with laughter and the clinking of beer bottles as the group admires Benny’s surprisingly affluent living conditions.

When you arrive home from the grocers and see all the bikes parked haphazardly on the lawn, you blink in disbelief.

As you step inside, balancing the bags of groceries in your arms, the sight of so many unfamiliar faces becomes intimidating.

“Benny?“ you call out warily as the bikers step aside allowing you to reach the kitchen, but it is Johnny who sees you first. Noticing the bags in your hand snaps his fingers and whistles.

Without hesitation the guys the guys jump to action rushing over to help, taking the bags quickly from your arms. They bring all of the groceries inside, not letting you lift a finger, and you step back, smiling at the unexpected show of enthusiasm in your kitchen.

Benny soon joins you, beer in hands. He takes a swig watching as the bikers bustle about, putting away groceries and making themselves useful.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he says with a sly grin as he wraps his arm around your waist.

“We all just came from a long ride, and our house was on the way back. We’ve got plenty of beer, and I wanted the guys to see where I live.”he says candidly.

You look up at him, touched by his excitement. “Of course, I don’t mind, Benny. This is your home too,” you reply warmly, resting a hand on his chest.

He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close looking over with a sense of pride. Johnny walks over to the two of you as the kitchen activity begins to wind down.

“These guys, huh?” he says, jerking his thumb.” All of a sudden they got manners.” he jokes making you and Benny smile.

“I know you two lovebirds are building a nice little nest here, but it’d mean a lot if you both could make it to the rally next week,” Johnny requests, his tone a mix of teasing and genuine invitation.

Benny looks to you, awaiting your response with a hopeful look on his face.

“It’d mean a lot to Betty and the old ladies to see you again,” Johnny adds with a grin seeing your reservation.

You look to Benny and seeing the anticipation in his eyes you readily confirm. “We’ll be there,” placing a reassuring hand on Bennys arm. He smiles, taking a sip of his beer, clearly pleased with your decision.

“Good,” Johnny says, nodding in approval. “It wouldn’t be the same without you,” he says, directing his words more at Benny, with a knowing look.

As the afternoon continues, you start the laundry. The bikers’ rough presence is a stark contrast to your quaint house, and as you walk by the living room carrying the hamper, you notice eight bikers scattered throughout the room, their imposing figures making your home appear even more delicate by comparison..

They drunkenly banter and aggressively play fight, occasionally knocking into a bookshelf or a lamp, their laughter and booming voices filling the space add adding a rowdy energy to your home the unsettled you.

Knowing they must he hungry you head to the kitchen and decide to bake two batches of cornbread as a light snack for them. Once the batch is done, you carefully remove the pan from the oven and brush the golden top with melted butter. You cut the cornbread into generous squares, arranging them neatly on a large serving tray.

With the tray in hand, you walk to the dining room, seeing Benny and Johnny already sitting at the table as you approach. Wahoo picks out one of the teacups from the China cabinet with an exaggerated delicacy, holding it with his pinky finger outstretched as he smirks.

“Look at you, Benny! A real kept man now, huh? Living the high life with these fancy dishes,” Wahoo teases, eliciting a chorus of laughter from the others.

Corky leans in, sniffing dramatically at Benny’s shoulder. “Yep, I can smell it on him—the scent of domestication!” he declares with mock seriousness.

Benny rubs the back of his neck, a bashful grin spreading across his face. “Aw, come on, guys. It’s not like that,” he protests, though there is no denying the blush creeping up his cheeks.

Observing the banter, you enter the room with the tray of freshly baked cornbread, “Are you boys hungry?” you ask, placing the cornbread in front of them with a warm smile.

Cal’s eyes light up as he quick reaches for a piece. “Now, this is what I’m talking about!” he exclaims, taking a big bite. “Benny, you’ve got it too good, my friend,” he says as he chews.

Johnny looks up at you with a grin. “Don’t let these hooligans get to you, Benny. None of them even know what it’s like.”

Corky nods in agreement, his mouth full of cornbread. “Yeah, man, if this is what domestication tastes like, count me in!” he adds, drawing more laughter from the group.

Benny shoots you a grateful look, his embarrassment giving way to appreciation. “Thanks, baby,” he says, reaching out for you. As you take his hand, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close as he sits and his thumb gently caresses your hip. You feel a warm sense of belonging among his friends, who you realize are like Benny’s family. The teasing banter continues, but all in good fun, a testament to the strong bonds that define Benny’s world.

Thrill Ride

During week, Benny decides to take you out to one of his favorite spots in the countryside and make a day of it. You happily agree, getting swept up in his excitement, knowing how enthusiastic he is to share his biker lifestyle with you.

The ride starts off like any other, the sun shining brightly and a gentle breeze cooling your skin as you and Benny head out of town. The roads are familiar, and you relax into the rhythm of the bike beneath you, enjoying the scenery as it flashes by.

As you reach the outskirts of town, Benny turns his head slightly and shouts over his shoulder, “Hang on tight!”

Without hesitation, you squeeze him tightly, your arms wrapped around his waist. Suddenly, Benny accelerates, speeding through a red light, the thrill of the moment taking you by surprise. You hear the blaring of a horn as a car screeches to a halt.

“Benny!” you chastise him, your voice a mix of exasperation and concern as you glance back at the car continuing through the intersection.

He laughs, the sound full of mischief and excitement. “Did you like that?” he asks, his eyes sparkling with adventure.

You can’t help but feel the rush of adrenaline coursing through you. “I don’t know whether to be thrilled or terrified Benny!” you reply, your heart racing from his unexpected actions.

Benny grins, clearly enjoying the excitement . “I like things like that,” he admits, his voice filled with the thrill of pushing boundaries.

“They make me feel alive”

Benny has been waiting to drive the bike as fast as it will go with you, something that sends a thrill through him. He’s been eager to share this experience with you for quite some time, knowing how much you’ve grown to love the freedom of the open road.

Now that you’ve become accustomed to his bike and settled into your role as his riding partner, he feels that his favorite stretch of road is the perfect place to exhilarate you. The countryside opens up before you, a long path that promises excitement and adventure.

As the landscape rushes past, a blur of green fields and blue skies, you can’t help but feel a surge of adrenaline as he pushes the bike faster.

“Do you trust me, baby?” he shouts over the roar of the engine, turning his head slightly so you can hear him.

“Yes, Benny,” you say, the wind catching your voice and carrying it away. His question seems odd, but there’s an underlying seriousness that makes your heart skip a beat.

“With your life?” he asks, and you feel a flutter in your stomach, a momentary pause as the reality of his question sinks in. Still, you nod, your voice firm. “Yes, Benny.”

He reaches back, pulling your hands tighter around his chest. “We’re maxing the bike,” he announces, and you can feel the excitement in his voice. Your heart races with a mix of thrill and light panic as you cling to him.

“Don’t let go of me,” he commands, making sure your hands are securely in place. “You have to promise me,” he says, squeezing your hand reassuringly before returning his to the handlebars.

“I won’t let go, Benny, I promise,” you say, trying to quell the anxiety rising in you.

As Benny accelerates, the bike roars to life, the engine’s growl deepening as you pick up speed. The world around you blurs, the scenery transforming into streaks of color as you surge forward. The wind lashes against your face, tearing at your clothes and hair with an intensity that steals your breath away.

You rest your cheek against his shoulder, but the sensation of speed is still overwhelming. The bike vibrates beneath you with a powerful force. The sound of the engine is deafening, a constant roar that drowns out all other noise, leaving only the rush of adrenaline and the pounding of your heart in your ears.

As you reach an incredible speed, everything changes. The world becomes a tunnel, a narrow corridor of motion and sound. Your grip on Benny tightens, your fingers digging into his sides as you fight against the fear rising within you. The wind is relentless, an invisible wall that presses against your body, threatening to unseat you with every gust.

Your hands grow cold despite the heat of the sun, the chill of fear seeping into your bones. Tears well in your eyes, not from emotion but from the sheer force of the wind, blurring your vision and making it difficult to see.

“Benny!” you call out, frightened, but your voice is inaudible over the roar of the engine. Benny howls with exhilaration, and you can feel his body tense with excitement, a stark contrast to your own tension and fear.

The bike sways slightly, each movement now amplified by your speed, and you cling to him with more desperation, squeezing your eyes shut tight, your entire body rigid with the effort of staying on as your heart pounds in your chest like a drum.

In that moment, caught between fear and trust, you realize the risk and the danger—the sheer recklessness of it all, and it is terrifying. As the speed levels out, the world slowly begins to reassemble itself. The blur sharpens back into fields and sky, and you find yourself breathless but alive, heart pounding with a mix of terror and exhilaration.

The roar of the engine diminishes, replaced by the softer hum of the bike as Benny eases off the throttle. Your breath is ragged, each inhale a struggle as you try to calm your racing heart and steady your trembling hands.

“Oh my God, Benny, I couldn’t breathe,” you gasp, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. Your voice is shaky, a mix of exhilaration and fear as you hold onto him, your body still pressed tightly against his.

Benny chuckles, a sound full of thrill and satisfaction. “I love that feeling,” he says, his voice filled with an undeniable passion for the experience.

“How often do you do that?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady. Beneath your curiosity is concern, realizing this wild ride is more than just a one time thrill for him.

“Whenever I can,” he replies casually, the words sending a chill down your spine. His nonchalance worrying, a testament to his love for living life on the edge.

You swallow hard, processing his answer. “Benny, that’s dangerous,” you say, the concern in your voice unmistakable. “The thrill of the ride is exciting , but the risk is something  that you can’t ignore.” You say with concern.

He turns his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours. “I know, baby, but it’s what makes me feel alive,” he admits, a hint of vulnerability in his tone. The truth of his words hangs in the air, a reminder of the thrill seeking nature that drew you to him in the first place.

Your heart aches with a mix of love and worry, understanding that this part of him is something you have to accept. It’s a side of Benny that both excites and frightens you, a reflection of the wild, untamed spirit you fell in love with.

As Benny slows the bike to a stop under the shade of a large oak tree, the world seems to exhale with you. The fields around you are a sea of yellow, stretching far and wide, their beauty softened by the afternoon light. Benny dismounts with ease, his movements fluid and confident, while you feel almost frozen in place, still processing the adrenaline and fear from the ride.

Benny grins turning to help you off the bike, his hands gentle and reassuring. You feel weaker than expected, your legs shaky as you dismount. Instead of jumping into action as you usually would, you sink down beneath the tree, resting your back against its sturdy trunk, lost in contemplation.

Benny busies himself with setting up, rolling out a blanket on the grass and arranging a small picnic. He nudges you with a bottle of beer, his expression a mix of concern and playful energy. “Hey, you did great,” he says, trying to lighten the mood.

You take the bottle, grateful for the chance to ground yourself. “That was intense, Benny,” you reply, your voice still catching in your throat.

He sits beside you, stretching out his legs. “One of the best feeling in the world.” He says smiling to himself. You glance at him, your heart torn in frustration.

“Benny It’s too dangerous, I don’t want to lose you to something like that.”

His eyes meet yours, and there’s a flicker of surprise. “I know it’s risky, but that’s part of the thrill, baby,” he tries to explain again.

You sigh, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down. “Benny, I love you so much. I’ve already lost people I care about, and I can’t go through anything like that again,” you reveal your voice cracks slightly, and he fully understands the unspoken truth behind your words. The loss of your parents still echoes in your heart.

Benny’s expression softens, guilt and understanding washing over him. “Come here baby.” he murmurs and holds your waist pulling you into his lap. He wraps his strong arms around you pulling you close, burying his face into your neck. “Im so sorry” he whispers.

The warmth of his touch, the strength of his embrace, calms you and you rest your head onto his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent of leather and wind.

“I’ll never leave you,” he whispers, his voice firm and sincere. “I promise. I’ll be more careful next time, okay baby?”

His words, and the reassurance in his tone, calm the storm within and you close your eyes, letting the sound of his heartbeat steady your own. The fear and adrenaline gradually fade, replaced by a profound sense of love and connection as his hands gently stroke your back.

You tilt your head up after a moment of quiet reflection and meet his gaze. “Thank you, Benny,” you say softly and press a kiss to his plush lips.

It’s a kiss full of love and forgiveness, and before you can pull away he deepens it, his hand cradling your jaw holding you in place as his lips move over yours with a tenderness that melts all the remnants of your fear away.

He gently breaks the kiss as he holds your gaze. “I’ll make you forget all about it,” he says, his voice a soothing promise.

His hands wander down your body, gentle and familiar, slipping between your legs with a teasing touch. The intensity of the ride fades into the background as a new thrill takes its place. “Some part of you likes it,” he says with a smirk, his fingers circling your wetness, and you respond by leaning close and biting his lower lip, giving him a playful look that feigns disapproval.

“Maybe just a little bit,” you tease, and he slips your panties aside pushing his fingers deeply within of you. The sudden sensation makes you moan as a jolt of pleasure courses your body and you realize just how aroused you are, the tension melting away as you cup his jaw kissing him deeply, letting your desire take over.

He continues to thrust his fingers within, feeling your walls tighten against them as your breaths become short uneven gasps against his lips.

He savors every moment watching you moan and kiss his lips as he fulfills you with desire

His cock grows harder in his tightening jeans the sensation causing him to palm himself to relieve the tensions.

“You need me baby?” he asks, his voice low and full of desire.

“Yes Benny always ” you breathe, your words a strong admission.

“I need you, too” he says suddenly slowing his fingers inside you.

His gaze is intense as he sits back, ready to give you everything you desire.

“Take me out,” he commands, and as you undo his jeans, he leans forward, kissing you and deeply thrusting his fingers within you at a steady pace.

The sensation makes you moan in his mouths feeling the jolts of pleasure course through your body.

As you finally free his erect cock from its confines, he guides your hand to his hard shaft, letting you feel the warmth and smoothness of his skin. His hand covers yours, urging you to grasp him firmly, and together you begin to stroke his large cock. The sensation of his shaft pulsing and gliding through your palm

Intensifies with every stroke as lose yourselves to the overwhelming desire of pleasuring each other. Your breaths come in quick gasps as you attempt to kiss each other trying to maintain the rhythm drawing both of you closer to the edge. His fingers push against the delicate ridge inside making your hips buck and you stroke him harder, feeling his cock twitch in your hand.

You begin moaning into each others mouths on the verge of release and he pulls back, locking eyes with you, his gaze intense and filled with desire.

“I want you to ride me, baby,” he says, his voice breathless and filled with need. You nod and he slowly, slips his fingers from you, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean.

He grips your hips, guiding you onto your knees as you straddle his lap.

“Ride me hard,” he commands, his voice low and full of intent. His eyes lock onto yours, seeking confirmation as he slips your panties aside.

“I will benny,” you promise your skin flushing with heat as the overwhelming need to feel him inside you takes over.

Your hands grip his shoulders, your nails digging in slightly as you slowly lower yourself onto him. Your wetness allows him to fill you inch by inch until the stretch makes you gasp, your heart racing.

“I’ve got you baby “ Benny’s says taking over. He places his hands firmly around your waist, guiding you down onto his cock and stretching your walls to their limit until he’s fully seated inside you.

A deep moan of pleasure escapes your lips as you settle into his lap, feeling every inch of him. “Benny… you feel so good,” you praise, your voice trembling with desire as the size of his cock makes your walls pulse with anticipation.

Benny groans beneath you, the sound deep and primal, echoing the intensity of your connection. His eyes roam over your body as his hands quickly move to unbutton your sundress.

“I want this off,” he demands, his voice tense with desire as he tugs the fabric “I want to see all of you,” he says, sliding the dress from your shoulders, revealing your soft skin beneath. His eyes wander your body with awe and reverence as he cups your breasts gently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

His hands grasp them firmly and he uses them to guide you against him as you a find rhythm that makes both of you moan with pleasure at every push of your hips. Benny looks at you in pure bliss savoring every sensation of you riding him. His eyes never leave yours, filled with a deep, tender love that makes your heart swell.

Each movement of your hips is met with a gentle, encouraging squeeze of your breasts in his hands, guiding you with care as you find your rhythm.

“Faster, baby,” he urges, his voice strained with pleasure.

“Yes, Benny,” you pant, moving your hips in a quicker rhythm, pushing down on him with a newfound intensity. The sound of your bodies moving together, wet and slick, fills the air, with your shared pleasurable moans.

“Harder,” he breathes, his voice a mix of authority and desperate need. His hands tighten on your breasts, guiding you to ride him deeper, until you find the perfect angle that makes you both cry out.

“Just like that,” Benny groans, his voice filled with satisfaction. “You feel so good on my cock“ he praises as you ride him.

The intimacy between you deepens as his hands move to caress your back, his moans loud and desperate vibrating through his chest as he watches you glide up and down on him. His lips are parted and his pupils are blown wide with desire as his hands move up to cradle your face.

His thumbs tenderly brush across your cheeks as he leans in, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His lips move against yours in a rhythm that intensifies with each passing moment, deepening the connection between you.

His hands move to your breasts as he kisses you. His fingers skillfully pinching each nipple, tugging gently as his thumbs sweep across, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

Your moans grow louder against his mouth as you feel the tension coiling tighter inside of you, drawing you closer to the edge with every thrust of your hips. “Benny, I’m close,” you breathe, your voice trembling with need. “I’m gonna come.”

Benny feels you begin to tighten around him, and he can’t hold back his own desperation. “Come for me, baby,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel you come all over my cock.”

His words push you beyond our limits and you ride him hard. The force of your movements is so intense it causes your breasts to bounce with each jolt. Benny groans, pulling you tight against him, his breath hot and ragged against your skin as his cock throbs within you. The rhythm between you is relentless, your body grinding down on him with a wild, untamed need the pressure building to an unbearable peak.

Benny’s hand slips between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in time with your hips, pushing taking over the edge.

“Benny, oh god, I’m coming!” you scream, your body tensing with overwhelming pleasure as your orgasm crashes over you.

Benny feels your walls fluttering around him, as a desperate moan escapes his lips. His hips begin bucking against you involuntarily as his cock surges, emptying himself deep inside, filling you with his warm cum. Each pulse of his release intensifies your own pleasure, drawing moans of ecstasy from you.

“Fuck, I love you,” Benny breathes, his voice raw with emotion as he pulls you close, his body trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he holds you tightly, grounding himself in the intimacy of the moment.

As your breaths mingle, the closeness brings a sense of calm, your heartbeats gradually slowing as the pulsing and throbbing of your joined bodies begin to subside.

As you try to lift yourself from his lap, Benny’s hands tighten around your waist, holding you in place. “Stay with me,” he whispers, his voice filled with longing as his eyes look onto yours with a deep unspoken need.

His hands move to gently cradle your face, his thumbs tenderly brushing over your cheeks memorizing every curve and detail of your beautiful face.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispers, his voice heavy with emotion as his blue eyes lock onto yours. The weight of his words settles between you, and he draws you into a deeply passionate kiss, pouring all of his love into it. He holds you protectively in his embrace as he kisses you possessively never wanting to let you go.

You and Me Kid

The morning of the rally arrives, and it’s a momentous occasion. You have the honor of riding for the first time in the pack of Vandals with Benny. You ride out from the Vandals’ clubhouse holding tightly to Benny on the back of his Harley. Your heart pounds with excitement as you look around at all the familiar faces you’ve come to know in his club.

Leading the pack is Johnny, with Betty holding onto him tightly. Brusy rides a pace back alongside him, Gail’s arms wrapped securely around his waist. Just behind you is Cal, with Sandy clutching him closely.

Benny rides at the head of the pack alongside Johnny, his presence powerful and commanding. You can feel the pride emanating from him, not just for the Vandals, but for having you there with him in this moment.

As you hold Benny tightly, his hand reaches back to give your thigh a gentle squeeze. The simple gesture sends a thrill racing through you, the blend of excitement and intimacy making your heart race even faster.

The biker group is so large that locals stop to stare as the vast number of riders rumble past. The sound of the bikes creates a symphony of power and freedom, a deep, thunderous roar that vibrates through the air, commanding attention and respect.

The sheer power and presence of the pack creates a spectacle as you finally arrive at the rally. The display of strength and unity from the Vandals commands attention, showcasing their bond and dominance within the community.

Several other biker and car enthusiasts are in attendance, and the edge in the air is amplified as they scowl upon the arrival of the Vandals.

The crew rolls in and parks their rides, kicking down stands and dismounting with practiced ease. Engines cut, and the air is thick with the scent of exhaust and the low rumble of idling machines. The Vandals spread out, claiming their spot for the day, laying out blankets, setting up coolers, and popping the tops off beers.

The usual dogs are sizzling on the grill, the smell of charred meat mixing with the tang of motor oil as the Vandals settle in. Some of the brothers wander off, checking out the iron lined up by the other clubs, nodding in respect at the rides that catch their eye. They swap tales of the road and close calls,the kind of trouble only bikers understand easing the tension in the air.

As the afternoon wears on, the men get sloppily drunk, their laughter echoing through the park rally as they share even wilder stories.

Zipco, the most adventurous Vandal , has everyone entertained with the most captivating stories of all. While the men gather around, hanging on Zipco’s every word, you and Benny sit a short distance away at a picnic table, enjoying a quiet moment together. When Benny finishes his hot dog, you smile at him affectionately and stand to get him another beer.

Just then, Corky, caught up in a wild game of keep away, crashes into you as he snatches Wahoo’s lighter out of the air. The collision makes you fall and clip your chin directly onto the edge of the park bench with a sharp, jarring pain.

The impact renders you senseless, and you fall to the ground in a daze. The laughter and noise around you evaporates into a stunned silence as everyone stares, startled by the sudden turn of events. But no one is more shaken than Benny, who leaps to his feet in a fury. “You didn’t see her?” he yells at Corky, his voice cracking with rage.

Corky stands stunned knowing he’s made a cardinal mistake and Bennys eyes blaze with anger as he shoves him out of the way and rushes to your side.

Panic overtakes Benny as he kneels beside you, watching you struggle to breathe. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice trembling with desperation as he searches your eyes frantically for a sign of reassurance.

“Benny, I’m fine,” you try to reassure him, your voice shaky feeling the disoriention and as you sit up and that’s when he sees the small cut on your chin with a thin line of blood beginning to drip. He clenches his fists in a silent rage, his eyes flashing with such a dark intensity l it startles you.

Without warning Benny gets up approaching Corky and snatching him by the collar, yanking him down to your level. “Look what you did!” Benny yells, his voice seething with fury.

Corky stammers his apologies in vain, his eyes widening in fear as he sees the cut on your chin. “I’m sorry, Benny, I’m so sorry!” he repeats desperately and Benny shoves Corky away feeling despair and anger you were hurt so badly from such a careless mistake

Benny, focused solely on your recovery, remains by your side, pulling his riding rag from his back pocket. He gently wipes the blood from your neck, his hand trembling slightly as he moves up to your chin.

When he reaches the bruise already forming, he bites his lip, his heart sinking as he realizes how deep the cut is, knowing it will leave a permanent scar on your beautiful face.

The thought fills him with a simmering fury, barely contained beneath the surface. By then, most of the Vandals have gathered around, drawn by the commotion, their concerned gazes fixed on you both.

Betty steps in to defuse the situation seeing Benny hovering over you unable to let go.

“Benny, let me see if she’s alright,” she asks gently, trying to calm him. But Benny’s demeanor changes suddenly, his eyes filling with guilt. “It’s all my fault! Fuck!” he curses, his voice breaking as he holds your chin, staring in disbelief at the blood that continues to seep from the cut.

You manage a small smile, trying to comfort him, seeing his worry. “Benny, I’m fine,” you insist, reaching out to touch his wrist. With the dizziness subsiding, you only feel a throbbing pain on the bone of your chin.

“Let the girl breathe, Benny,” Gail says softly, seeing his desperation and takes Benny’s arm pulling him back a little. “Let Betty get her cleaned up. It was just a knock to the chin. She’ll be alright,” she reassures him.

Betty helps you to your feet and guides you away from the crowd to tend to your cut. As she cleans the would Benny watches anxiously as you wince in pain. His guilt is undeniable as he paces back and forth, refusing to leave the area as Gail tries to console him.

You offer Benny a reassuring smile to let him know you’re alright, but there’s an unsettling look in his eyes you haven’t seen before, and it doesn’t fade.

“Good as new,” Betty says once the bleeding stops and she places a bandage carefully over the cut.

“You’re gonna have a really funny story to go with that scar,” she says to lighten the mood but Benny is not amused. As Betty steps aside he rushes in checking your chin.

“How do you feel baby?” He asks softly and you smile at him. “ It hurts now Benny but I’ll feel better later” you answer and his jaw clenches,as his expression remains tense. Betty noticing Bennys unchanged demeanor immediately goes to get Johnny’s attention.

“Come with me” Benny says taking your hand and helping you up from the picnic table. He leads you away from the others without saying another word.

Once you’re out of earshot, Benny pulls out a cigarette, his hands trembling slightly as he tries to light it. His brow furrows in frustration, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he clicks the lighter several times, each attempt ending in failure.

“Fuck!” he yells, his voice strained, his eyes flashing with anger when the flame refuses to catch.

“Benny, it’s alright,” you say softly, trying to soothe his aggravation. But he shakes his head, his frustration boiling over. “It’s not alright… This whole thing…” he mutters, his voice tense with regret. “Bringing you here…”

He bites his lip, his fists clenching as he struggles to keep his emotions in check. “I’m supposed to protect you… I’m supposed to keep you safe…” His voice trails off, and you realize Benny is still battling with the guilt over your injury, unable to shake the feeling that he’s failed you.

“Benny, it’s alright,” you say again softly, trying to soothe him.

“It’s not alright!” he snaps, his voice sharp and trembling with anger. “You’re gonna have a fucking scar because of this shit! I never should’ve brought you here!” he yells, his eyes darkening with rage as the frustration pours out of him.

Benny’s voice carries with intensity, drawing the attention of all the nearby Vandals who exchange knowing looks seeing Benny temper.

“Hey, Benny!” Johnny finally calls out, his voice steady as he arrives with Betty at his side. “Come here kid” he says, gesturing for Benny to join him, his tone firm, leaving no room for argument.

Benny hesitates, his anger still simmering beneath the surface as his eyes flicker between you and Johnny, his protectiveness over you is unrelenting.

Betty slowly steps forward her presence a soothing contrast to Benny’s fiery demeanor and she gently takes your arm “Come with me, sweetheart,” she says softly. Her eyes looking to Benny “I’ll keep her safe. You guys talk,” she says to him with confidence.

Benny’s jaw tightens, his hesitation evident as he watches Betty lead you away. His eyes follow you, brow furrowed with concern, before he finally exhales, forcing himself to let go as he walks over to Johnny.

As you walk away with Betty, she tries to reassure you. “I haven’t seen Benny like that in a very long time,” she confides quietly. “You’ve been the best thing for him, honestly. I think he just needs a moment to cool down.” Her words are meant to put you at ease, but you can sense a hint of worry in her voice

Johnny takes Benny aside, giving him a knowing look. “What’s up, kid?” he asks, pulling out his lighter and offering it to Benny. Benny takes it and finally lights a cigarette. “Nothin,” he says flatly, but Johnny raises his eyebrows, unconvinced.

“Come on, kid, I know that look,” Johnny says, taking a drag from his cigarette. “This isn’t just about today, is it?”

Benny takes a drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling into the air as he exhales slowly. “It’s just… I feel like I’m failing her already,” he admits quietly, the tension in his voice softening. “She shouldn’t have to deal with this kind of shit.”

Johnny nods, understanding the weight of Benny’s words. “You care about her a lot, and that’s good. But accidents happen. You can’t control everything kid” he says, his tone steady and reassuring.

Benny shifts uncomfortably, his gaze dropping to the ground as he kicks at the dirt with his boot. “I know, but it’s hard. She deserves to be happy and safe, and, y’know… after a while with me everything just …” His voice trails off.

Johnny takes a final drag from his cigarette, flicking the butt to the ground before putting it out. “She’s happy with you Benny. She’s tough, and she loves you. Give yourself a break,” he says, placing a reassuring hand on Benny’s shoulder, giving it a firm, grounding squeeze. Benny stares at the ground, still unsettled.

“Come on, let’s go listen to one of Zipco’s wild ass stories. That’ll take your mind off everything.” Johnny grins and Benny looks up reluctantly following Johnny over to the group of Vandals still sitting around Zipco.

Johnny hands Benny a beer and they lean against a truck to listen in as Zipco speaks, but Benny’s mind keeps drifting back to you.

The words of the conversation around him fade into the background, his eyes drifting over to you, sitting with the old ladies.

Your usual lively smile is gone, replaced by a distant, hollow expression as you gently touch your chin. The sight of you, subdued and vulnerable, sends a fresh wave of anger and guilt crashing through him. The bruise is already darkening on your skin and the permanent scar that will be left behind, refuels all of Benny’s anger.

He clenches his jaw, the muscles twitching with suppressed rage as he chugs down the last of his beer, consumed by frustration and guilt.

“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Benny angrily mutters, tossing his empty beer bottle, which shatters on the ground. Johnny watches him walk off, sensing the turmoil that’s raging inside of him.

Just as Benny steps away, Cal and Cockroach walk back to the group, followed by an irate set of bikers from another club who are hurling insults. “You scratched my bike shit head !” one of them yells at Cal who vehemently denies it.

“I looked at the piece of shit, and I guarantee I couldn’t do any more damage.” Cal says with sarcasm.

Hearing Cals insult the biker Without warning, he shoves Cal hard, the force of the push sending him back a step. “The fuck you say?” he says stepping up.

“You wanna get salty, motherfucker? I’ll get salty,” Cal snaps back, his voice dripping with venom as he squares up to the biker, his fists clenched and ready for a fight.

The other Vandals, noticing the commotion, start to stand up one by one, their expressions darkening as they prepare to back Cal up. The bikers from the rival gang respond in kind, their own members stepping forward, ready to throw down.

Zipco and the others circle around, the atmosphere thick with tension, as both groups face off, a powder keg ready to explode at any moment.

Just as things seem about to boil over, Johnny steps in, pushing Cal back with a firm hand. “Nah, nah, nah, none of this,” Johnny says, his voice calm but authoritative as he places himself between the two groups.

He turns to the other biker, trying to diffuse the situation. “Where you from?” he asks, his tone steady as he looks the biker in the eye.

“Gary,” the biker responds, his voice still edged with anger, but the directness of Johnny’s approach seems to catch him off guard.

Johnny nods, his expression softening just a fraction. “You know a guy around there named Shitty Pete?” he asks, a hint of familiarity in his voice.

The biker blinks, the tension in his stance easing slightly. “Everyone knows Shitty Pete,” he replies, some of the aggression fading as recognition flickers in his eyes.

“What’s your crew called?” Johnny continues, keeping the conversation going, his voice steady as he works to keep things from escalating.

“The Gary Rouges,” the biker answers, his voice losing some of its earlier hostility.

As Johnny and the leader of the other gang begin to bond, Benny returns with a fresh beer, immediately noticing the way everyone is facing off sensing a fight about to ensue.

Gail, observing the tension, chuckles near him, trying to lighten the mood. “You leave for one second, and your boyfriend’s getting in trouble,” she quips. But her words have the opposite effect on Benny, intensifying the rage that’s been building inside him all day. Without hesitation, Benny, fueled by his unrelenting anger, immediately darts to the confrontation.

Jonny and the leader of the Gary Rouges continue to talk out, almost calming things to be cordial.

“How many are in your crew?” Johnny asks with a hint of recruiting curiosity. But before the conversation can go any further, Benny rushes in and socks the Gary Rouges biker directly in the jaw dropping him instantly to the ground fueled by unchecked rage.

“Guess not enough,” Johnny chuckles, and an all out brawl erupts between the biker clubs.

Benny unleashes all of his aggression, fighting with a ferocity that even two bikers struggle to contain. He barrels through them, his fists flying with brutal precision. As one biker throws a punch, Benny deflects it with a sharp twist, slamming his own fist into the man’s jaw, sending him crashing into a parked truck. The impact reverberates through the air, but Benny doesn’t stop.

He grabs the second biker by the collar, slamming him against the truck’s door with a force that dents the metal. Without hesitation, Benny begins to pummel the man’s chest and gut with relentless blows, each punch landing with a sickening thud. The biker’s eyes widen in terror as he realizes Benny’s intent. Desperation kicks in, and he barely dodges as Benny aims a devastating punch at his face.

The force of Benny’s missed punch shatters the driver’s side window, sending shards of glass scattering. The crash of glass is so loud and jarring that even the other bikers, still locked in their own fights, pause in shock.

Benny doesn’t flinch instead he pulls his fist back, now dripping with blood his knuckles pierced through with a large shard of glass. With adrenaline surging through his veins, Benny yanks the glass from his knuckles without a second thought, his eyes locked on the opposing biker.

The man’s fear is undeniable and Benny’s rage is all consuming. Benny rushes forward, tackling the biker to the ground with a slam, his bloodied fist delivering blow after bone crushing blow. The intensity in Benny’s eyes leaves no doubt, he’s a man possessed, unwilling to stop until he’s unleashed every ounce of his fury.

You watch the fight unfold in horror with the old ladies, frozen at first, then suddenly standing from the picnic bench, your face a picture of shock as you witness Benny’s brutal assault.

Instinctively, you begin to rush toward him, desperate to stop the violence, but Betty and Sandy grab you, holding you back with firm grips.

“Oh no you don’t,” Sandy says urgently, struggling to keep you in place.

“He’s hurt! I have to help him” you cry out, your voice trembling with fear and desperation.

“They’re men!” Betty tells you, her voice a mix of urgency and concern. “They’ll handle it. You’re the one whose gonna get hurt ”

But Benny doesn’t stop. His fist continues to beating the biker’s face in, each punch snapping the man’s head back with a sickening force. The man’s gurgles turn into silence as he goes limp, but Benny lost in his fury, is oblivious to everything except the need to keep striking.

The sight makes you feel sick to your stomach, dread pooling in your chest as the only sound left is the sickening snap of Benny’s fist against the man’s bloodied face.

The blood splattered across Benny’s own face makes him look deranged, as his features express his uncontrollable rage.

Seeing Benny about to commit murder Johnny springs into action. He tackles Benny off the biker, wrestling him to the ground holding him back with all his strength. But even held down, Benny doesn’t stop. His legs kick out wildly, his arms thrashing, attempting to break free from Johnny’s grip. His eyes, are wild and unseeing completely lost in the rage that consumes him.

As you get closer, Johnny looks up at you, his voice sharp and commanding. “Get back!” he yells, his tone sharp and hostile. You feel a terrible wrench in your gut, seeing Benny so out of control.

“Betty!” Johnny shouts, seeing you unable to snap you out of your shock and she rushes in, pulling you away as tears of frustration and fear well up in your eyes.

Betty and Sandy hold you tightly, guiding you away from the chaos, while Johnny struggles to keep Benny restrained.

As they take you back, you catch one last glimpse of Benny, just as Johnny finally manages to calm him, releasing his grip and patting him on the chest in a gesture of reassurance.

Your heart breaks for the man you love, seeing the raw pain and turmoil etched in his features. You know that beneath the anger and violence, he’s hurting, grappling with something far deeper.

The sight of him like this, so lost and vulnerable, leaves you feeling helpless, knowing there’s nothing you can do to ease his suffering in this moment.

The fight ends as quickly as it began, with the Vandals and the Gary Rouges’s pulling back, settling down to tend to their wounds. Despite the chaos, a sense of friendship begins to form between the two groups, their shared ordeal forging an unexpected bond.

As the adrenaline fades, Johnny pulls Benny aside from the club and they sit a distance away on the grass feeling the soreness from the fight settling in. Without a word, they light up their cigarettes, taking a moment to breathe as the smoke curls into the evening air.

Johnnys expression is curious yet concerned as he hands Benny a bandage for his bloodied knuckles. “What were you thinking back there, kid?” He asks, his voice carrying a hint of reprimand.

Benny takes the bandage, wrapping it around his hand in frustration. “Nothin. I saw you squaring off with those guys—what more was there to think about?” he mutters.

Johnny shakes his head offering Benny a bottle of whiskey. “You and me both, kid,” he chuckles.

Johnnys eyes remain sharp on Benny studying him as he nods and takes a swig from the bottle before handing it back.

“What about the Mrs.?” Johnny asks, his tone firmer. “You think she needed to see that?” he gestures before taking a swig of the whiskey.

Benny’s jaw tightens, and he looks away feeling the weight of Johnny’s words sinking in. “I didn’t think,” Benny admits, his voice quieter.

Johnny places a firm hand on Benny’s shoulder. “I get it, kid, but you gotta remember, you’ve got more than just the club to think about now. You’ve got her, and she needs you whole, not broken. You gotta learn to keep it together, for her sake.”

Benny nods, the weight of Johnny’s words pressing down on him. “I can’t let anything happen to her… but I’m scared I’m gonna lose her.” His voice tightens as he picks at the bandage on his injured hand. “It’s like there’s this fire inside me, and I can’t control it. I know I’m just gonna wreck it all.” His voice cracks, the admission cutting deeper than he expected.

Johnny gives Benny a knowing look. “That fire’s part of who you are, kid. But you’ve got to learn to channel it, not let it control you.”

As Benny and Johnny sit together, sharing whiskey and cigarettes, you watch from a distance as Johnny’s experienced understanding of Benny is evident in every gesture, every knowing nod.

You suddenly feel like an outsider in your relationship with Benny and the bitterness of that realization stirs deep emotions within you. There’s a fracture in the bond between you and Benny, a hidden weakness you can no longer ignore.

You are rested back against the picnic table as you watch them, arms crossed over your chest, legs crossed tightly with one foot tapping impatiently betraying the weight of your emotions pressing down on you.

Betty noticing your discomfort approaches with a reassuring smile. “They’re just being men,” she says, trying to ease your mind as she offers you a beer. “They always find a way to handle it.” She says. But you shake your head, declining the drink and her words.

“I’m just going to wait for Benny,” you reply, your voice flat and she nods understandingly leaving you to your thoughts.

Several minutes pass, each one dragging longer than the last, until finally, Benny walks toward you. His posture is tense, his eyes refusing to meet yours. Without a word, he drops down next to you at the picnic table, his gaze fixed on some distant point, his expression unreadable.

You take a deep breath, your heart heavy with a mix of concern and confusion. “Benny… what was that?” you ask, your voice tight with emotion, struggling to understand the intensity of what just happened.

Benny wipes his hand under his nose with a sniff, the bandage on his knuckles already beginning to seep with blood. “I don’t know, I just… lost it,” he mutters, his gaze fixed on the distance, unable to meet your eyes.

“Lost it?” you repeat, trying to keep your voice steady. “Benny, you nearly killed that guy! I… I’ve never seen anything like that in my life! What if something worse had happened?” You panic the fear of losing him to something so reckless tightening your chest.

Benny finally turns to look at you, his eyes filled with guilt and frustration. “I wasn’t thinking… I saw Johnny in trouble and… I just reacted. I know I messed up,” he says, his voice laced with regret.

“Messed up?” you repeat, your voice rising with anger and hurt. “Do you even know how much that scared me, Benny? Seeing you lose control like that? Do you even care how that made me feel?”

“Of course I care!” Benny shouts, his frustration boiling over. “I hate that you had to see that, that you had to worry. But I’m not perfect. I can’t just flip a switch and make this all go away!” he yells, his voice echoing with the tension between you

By now, all of the surrounding Vandals and their old ladies are invested in your argument, unable to avoid the intensity of your voices and you can feel the weight of their stares.

“That’s right, you’re not perfect Benny !” you snap back, the sting of your words evident as you see the pain flicker in his eyes.

“But you don’t have to be perfect…because …I want you just the way you are Benny” you say your voice lowering as your heart aches with the depth of your feelings.

“I’m the one supposed to be by your side, the one helping and caring for you, not watching from the sidelines.” You say in frustration and sadness.

Benny looks at you, his eyes filled with regret and guilt, the weight of your words hitting him hard.

“You shut me out Benny,” you confirm crossing your arms as you look to the ground in silence unable to hide the hurt that’s tearing you apart

Benny looks to the ground feeling the weight of your words and understanding . “I…I didn’t mean to shut you out,” he admits, his voice lower and filled with regret . “I just never wanted you to see me like that,” he says, looking away in shame. “It was ugly…”

“I don’t care about ugly, Benny,” you reply, your voice filled with concern. “I only care about you, and I want you to know that you trust me, that you can let me in even when things get mess—” Your words trail off as your eyes catch sight of the blood slowly dripping down his wrist.

“Benny, your hand!” you exclaim, noticing the bandage completely soaked through.

Benny glances down noticing the blood and a look of sorrow washes over his face “Yea it was a pretty deep cut” he admits.

Your eyes widen in concern as you carefully unwrap the crimson soaked bandage. The sight of the large gash in his knuckle, still leaking blood, sends a wave of shock through you.

“Oh my god, Benny,” you gasp your voice filled worry, and soon the old ladies of the club gather around, their faces mirroring your concern.

Betty takes a quick look at his hand, tilting it gently to examine the wound. “Benny, it’ll heal but you’ll have one ugly scar,” she confirms.

Benny starts wrapping his hand back up, trying to diminish everyone’s worry. “It’ll heal up in a few weeks,I’ll keep it bandaged til then” he says with certainty, having survived his fair share of injuries.

You stare at him in disbelief, unable to understand how he can be so dismissive about something so serious.

“A few weeks? Benny Cross! We’re going to the hospital right now. That cut is so deep, you’ll need stitches!” You say with rising concern.

“It’ll heal,” he says with a slight aggravation in his tone, his anger simmering beneath the surface unable to understand why you’re making such a fuss.

He knows you’ve probably never dealt with anything more than a paper cut, and it grates on him to no end.

“It’ll heal?” you repeat your voice rising sharply. “Benny, you’ll probably get an infection and never be able to use your hand again if you don’t treat it!” You say in frustration as you stand up.

“Get up Benny we’re going to the hospital right now!” you command him.

For a moment, it seems like Benny might respond, but the words die on his lips, and he remains silent. The reality of the situation sinks in and the heaviness in your chest becomes almost unbearable. The distance between you and Benny growing like a void.

“Get up, Benny,” you repeat more forcefully, and this time he reluctantly stands, but there’s a coldness in his eyes, a resentment building.

All eyes are on you as you assert your authority over Benny, and he can’t help but feel a sting of humiliation realizing everyone in the club is witnessing this moment. The Vandals watch in silence, sensing the drastic change that has suddenly taken hold.

Without a word Benny turns and walks to his bike his expression hardening. He kick-starts it up, the engine roaring to life as he waits for you. When you approach, it’s the first time he doesn’t offer you his hand, and you try to hide the hurt in your eyes as you climb on behind him but the tension between you two is undeniable.

As you both ride away, Johnny, Betty, and the rest of the Vandals watch with concern on their faces. They all sense the significant shift between you and Benny, the tension hanging heavy in the air as you disappear from view.

In a Bad Way

Benny drives to the hospital at a jarring speed, the engine roaring beneath you as he accelerates. The highway becomes a blur, the lights and traffic blending into a chaotic stream of color as he weaves dangerously between cars. The sheer speed of the bike makes your breath catch, the risk and adrenaline mingling with your anger, momentarily overpowering it.

Instinctively, your arms tighten around his waist, clinging to him for dear life as the wind bites at your skin, each subtle movement of the motorcycle making your heart leap into your throat.

As you approach the exit for the hospital, Benny speeds right past it, ignoring the turn. Panic rises in your chest, and you shout over the roaring wind, “Benny, where are you going?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, just accelerates faster, the lights blurring past as he weaves through the traffic at a dangerous speed. “I’m taking you home,” he finally replies, his voice cold and distant, filled with a quiet, simmering anger.

You speed through town, the city lights streaking past in a dizzying blur as Benny pushes the bike harder. The rhythmic thrum of the engine vibrates through your body, each twist of the throttle sending you hurtling forward with relentless momentum. Your surroundings become a chaotic whirl of color and noise, the familiar streets of the town fading into a disorienting haze.

As you approach your neighborhood, the world begins to slow, the frantic pace easing as the bike glides through quieter, more familiar streets. The comforting sight of your treelined avenue with warmly lit homes contrasts sharply with the turmoil churning between you and Benny.

Finally he pulls in front of your house, stopping the bike abruptly, the sudden halt almost throwing you off balance.

You slide from his bike, your legs shaky, your emotions in turmoil. Benny doesn’t even look at you, his jaw is clenched and his expression hard as he dismounts and heads inside without saying a word.

You anxiously follow him inside, your heart racing with the hope of talking things through, of mending whatever just broke between you. But as you step into the house, you see Benny heading straight upstairs.

You assume he needs to shower and cool down after the day you’ve had and you head upstairs to do the same.

As you push open the bedroom door and walk inside, the sight of him packing his rucksack determined and tense, shocks you to your core.

“Benny…what are you doing?” you ask, your voice trembling with worry, but he doesn’t respond. He continues stuffing his clothing and personal items into the bag, his silence speaking louder than words ever could.

Finally, he slings the rucksack over his shoulder and turns to leave, his eyes filled with a cold determination that sends a chill through you. “You’re better off without me,” he says flatly, his voice devoid of the warmth you’re used to.

Without even glancing back, he walks past you, heading downstairs and out the door, leaving you standing stunned silence.

You gather your thoughts and quickly rush outside to try and catch him, your heart racing as you process what’s happening. Benny throws his rucksack onto the bike and kick-starts it with a loud roar. The sound of the engine drowns out everything else as he rides off leaving you standing in the street, stunned and utterly alone.

As the roar of his motorcycle fades into the distance the emptiness he left behind feels overwhelming.

Your head spins, a dizzying mix of shock and confusion, as you try to comprehend why he left so abruptly and why he said everything with such severity.

Then, the sudden realization that Benny is actually gone hits you like a ton of bricks, the weight of it crushing your chest, making it hard to breathe.

You immediately run back into the house, your heart pounding as you grab the phone and dial a number with trembling fingers. The ringing seems to stretch on forever until, finally, a voice comes through.

“Johnny,” you say frantically, your voice cracking with desperation, “Please, tell me if you see Benny.”

There’s a pause on the other end as Johnny understands your concern. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll have everyone keep an eye out.” He says with a somber reassurance.

“Please,” you beg, your voice trembling as you fight back tears, “Please don’t tell him I asked about him.” You can’t even finish the call as you quickly hang before the dam breaks. You begin to sob, feeling the overwhelming confusion and guilt setting in.

You quickly wipe back your tears feeling vulnerable and unsure of what to do. Ultimately thinking you both over reacted and that he will return, that he has to return. The silence of the house amplifies your despair, the absence of Benny leaves a gaping void within your heart.

You quickly decide to cook supper trying to put on a brave face knowing that when he does return he will be hungry, and maybe after you’ve both eaten he’ll realize it was a mistake made in the heat of the moment.

You take your time carefully preparing a meal adding each ingredient with the hope that Benny will walk through the door at minute. You bake a casserole and set the dish on the kitchen counter, waiting for him to arrive. But as the casserole cools, the realization that he’s not coming behind to sinks in.

You are unable to eat feeling the overwhelming absence of the person you made it for and quietly put the meal away in the refrigerator.

Hours later, the phone rings, shattering the oppressive silence. You stumble into the living room, snatching the receiver from the hook with trembling hands. “Hello?” you say, your voice raw with emotion.

“Hey…” Johnny’s voice comes through, hesitant and heavy. Your nerves rise instantly, dread knotting in your stomach.

“Have you seen him? Have you seen Benny?” you ask frantically, the fear clawing at your chest.

“I, um, I’m sorry to have to say this,”Johnny begins, his voice filled with undeniable remorse, “Benny was beaten near to death, he’s in a real bad way, they got him hospitalized over in Midtown—”

The words hit you like a freight train. You slam the phone down, the sound echoing in the empty room.

A scream rips from your throat as you collapse to the floor, hyperventilating overwhelmed by a mix of fear and shock.

For a moment, you’re paralyzed, the weight of the news crushing you. But then, through sheer will, you force yourself to get up, knowing you need to be there for Benny.

You grab a jacket and your keys, your movements frantic and disjointed as you rush out the door.

Moments of Benny flash through your mind each one more painful than the last. His radiant smile, the way his intense blue eyes lock onto yours, the look on his face as you walked down the aisle, the warmth of his voice, the gentleness of his kiss that made you feel like the center of his entire world.

Each memory stabs at your heart, reminding you of what you had, and what you fear you might lose forever.

The tears you’ve been holding back finally spill over as you drive, your vision blurring with an overwhelming flood of emotions.

Your only focus is getting to Benny, knowing deep down that you need him and that he needs you and you’ll forgive him, care for him, and love him for as long as you live.

🏍️ To Be Continued 🏍️

Chapter 5 Broken Promises

When Benny is beaten to near death you tend and care for him night and day. The confident and strong man you once knew now seems lost forever in the unsure and frail Benny leaving you to put all the pieces back together.

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 his decision is finalized changing both of your lives forever.

🔗 Masters List

🏍️ Benny Cross Tag List 🏍️

@finley-08 @ashleybutler-26 @ifuckindontknow @landlockedmermaid77 @jvanilly @oceanablue @12joeywheelerfangirl @autumnleaves1991-blog @presley1992 @rose-deathman @sillylittlethrowaway @lillypink @faephoria @butdaddyilovehim99 @nostalgichoya @ausssbutlershortstories

🏷️ Always Tags Me List 💌

@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

[raguiras]

Burton-fied TWST, kinda?!

aka the Haunted Victorian Mansion AU

Something entirely different from my usual content for once ^^ Might do a 2nd part if y'all like it! // reblogs are extremely appreciated ~

This AU was created and developed by @althea-and-alcestris and I helped her with the lore! I was also able to include my Yuu OC Allen and his ship with Deuce 🫶

NOTE: The AU description won't go too much into detail for now in order to avoid potentially triggering topics.

About the AU

The Haunted Victorian Mansion AU combines elements from Ghost Bride (my friend's base concept/inspiration for this AU) with ones from Identity V (my influence).

A group of detectives are lured into a haunted mansion in promise of money, other valuables, and secret information on criminal cases if they "solve a riddle". Said mansion is inhabited by the ghosts of people who died tragic deaths and can no longer remember any details about how or why they died.

While they do automatically want to uncover the secrets of the dead, the detectives aren't aware of what the "riddle" on hand is. Nobody told them that if they don't figure out the reasons behind every single ghost's death until sunset, they're going to be trapped inside the mansion forever...

Hint: You may be able to guess why Malleus, Riddle, Floyd and Jade died in this AU based on their designs.

Canon cast

Detectives:

Deuce, Trey, Cater, Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Kalim, Rook, Epel, Silver

Ghosts:

Riddle, Ace, Azul, Jade, Floyd, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Ortho, Malleus, Sebek, Lilia, Baul

♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤

Intro for 2 out of 40+ AUs done! I created more than 20 of those AUs and will likely make many of mine collaborative (= you can officially put your OCs and ships into them), so stay tuned!

I'll likely talk more about the Haunted Victorian Mansion AU in the future if y'all like it, sooo 👁👁