#they deserve a movie even better than Rush

[silveryhill]

Alain Prost: Still, even as it turned out, it was a fantastic story, don’t you think? And I think, in a way, we’re missing a little of that today. (Motorsport, 1998.10)

There's a metaphor abt Senna's helmet in the vid. Inspired by an interview from Nuno Cobra(his coach)

it's possible to say that Senna had that kind of split personality. On the one side you had Ayrton, who is sensitive, loving, sweet, poetic, romantic, wise and careful. On the other side, there was Senna, who is explosive. Senna was very nervous, very agitated, stressed, bad tempered. He was often compromised and challenged. I think Ayrton suffered a lot in the hands of Senna.

So Ayrton was the human side of Senna. When he put the helmet on, he turned into a “stranger”, the ruthless Senna.

And before the imola accident, Senna took off his helmet in front of Alain.

On Saturday, after Roland Ratzemberger's fatal accident, that was not the Ayrton I used to know, he was really worried...

On Sunday, at lunch time, he went to see me and simply didn't say anything important. Everybody was watching that in slience. It looks like he just wanted to get close to me. And I really feel that he's so weak. That was the first time I saw him like that...

On that Sunday I thought, that's not Ayrton. He's fragile. He wasted five or ten minutes to come to me and say nothing. And then he went back to the garage.

So I finished my lunch and went to his garage...

Ayrton's ritual was to be completely focused on his thing in the car. He never took off the helmet, it was the first time he took off the helmet(before the races). He was doing some stretching in the garage...

I didn't want to bother him too much but he wanted me to stay, it seems that he just want to share a time with me.

he was happy that I came there to talk to him, and that was the last time.

In their last six months, Alain met the REAL Ayrton.

"There were three Ayrtons for me: the one before F1 when he was looking at my races, at everything I was doing, the way I was doing it; obviously the one when we were together, inside or outside the same team; and then the one when I retired." It was this last version that Prost says he grew to like adding he wouldn't have believed it existed "if I had not known this person myself."

But Ayrton was Senna, Senna was Ayrton. They're the same person after all. So still, he put the helmet on and went to his fate. As Ron Dennis said, "it's his obligation." Like an addiction, and he "can't drop it."

Jackie Stewart once said:

Ayrton Senna was the most dedicated racing driver I have ever met. He was totally immensed in his life of being a driver. It was what he lived for. I would say that in a high 90% range of Ayrton Senna's focus on Motor Racing. Stirling Moss, when he drove, was a man who had other likes in life. Niki Lauda had passions in life, Jackie Stewart had, Juan Manuel Fangio had. Ayrton Senna, I believe, was more focused than any of the names that I've just mentioned.

So I think for Ayrton Senna, life, or love, is seldom enough, and that's why we admire him so much as his pure spirit of racing. It's a beautiful paradox. He's different.

*thank you for reading my way too long thoughts <3

*please don't repost it to any other platforms(like ytb), on tbr is absolutely welcome!

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Touch Tank

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 5.5k (look it wasn't supposed to be this many- my characters got away from me)

Warnings: sheesh, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, creampie, Loki is very soft and worshiping, unprotected sex (be safe) I think that's it idk this is kind of mild compared to some of my other stuff- could be waaaay more raunchy lmao

Genre: fluff, smut

Summary: Loki is not the easiest person to get close to, but you're not deterred by his standoffishness. He deserves a friend in the tower and you're determined to be at least that much.

He's so pretty when he goes down on me // he tells me he's gentle when he wants to be // I think he wants to be gentle with me ~ Touch Tank by Quinnie

***

You rush down the hall, excited for your night out with a group of your non-Avenger friends. You make a point to see your other friends as often as you can to balance those relationships with your ones on the team. After all, living with the Avengers means that you see them all the time, but being an Avenger is not all there is to you. Walking into the main room you're surprised to see Loki sitting at the kitchen counter, just kind of staring at nothing.

"You alright Lo?" You ask him carefully. Your question seems to pull him out of whatever trance he was in.

"I'm fine." He says, though his face isn't convincing.

"Okay? Happy staring- I'm going out so- I'll see you later then." You frown heading over to the main elevator. Loki's not exactly close to anyone in the tower except Thor, and even that he'd argue is false but you always make a point to include him even when the others ignore him a bit. As you ride down to street level you can't help but wonder what has him so pensive up there by himself. On the street, waiting for a taxi to flag down, you can't get yourself to shake Loki from your mind so- reluctantly you dial one of your friends.

"Y/n!" Your friend's excited voice practically yells down the line.

"Hey! Listen, you know I hate to do this, and I wouldn't if it wasn't important, but I'm not going to be able to make it out tonight, something's come up. I'm okay, I just can't come. You guys have fun! I want loads of pictures and a play-by-play once one of you returns to life tomorrow yeah?"

"Aw we're gonna miss you!"

"Ditto! But I'll see you guys soon! Tell the girls I said hi!" You say.

"Of course! Take care, and call if you need anything!"

"Same to you!" You blow a kiss as you end the call and sigh. "Dammit Loki." You roll your eyes as you turn around and go back inside. You ride the elevator back up to the main floor where Loki is still sitting at the counter. You knock on the counter in front of him and grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Aren't you meant to be going somewhere?" Loki's eyes narrow at you.

"I was, but I called my friend on my way down and she's actually not feeling too hot so we decided it'd be best to reschedule once she's feeling better." You shrug. You know better than to tell him you cancelled your plans because you saw him moping at the counter. He'd flip at the first possible hint of you pitying him, even though that isn't what this is.

"I see."

"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" You offer.

"What?" He scoffs.

"Well- I was supposed to be spending time interacting with people tonight and that fell through but I'd feel kinda bummed if I spent the whole evening alone now after all the mental prep to be social so if you can be so terribly bothered to hang out for a bit I'd- value that." You say. Loki looks you over as he considers your words and then he sighs.

"I suppose I could spare a few hours, but only because I can't stand watching you mope around the tower the way you do whenever you're disappointed, it's pathetic. But this favor is a huge inconvenience to me I just want you to know that." He says and you have to fight the urge to smile. You know the show of bravado is for his own sake more than anything, and you're willing to let him have it, but it's funny to think of how much rationalizing he's doing to convince himself it's alright to spend time with you.

"Your sacrifice is both duly noted and greatly appreciated. I can offer you compensation in the form of a meal or freshly baked cookies." You say. Loki's eyes light up very briefly at the offer of cookies, he'll never admit it out loud but he loves your baking, he always eats almost half a tray when you make them.

"You know Midgardian food has very little appeal to me, but I suppose a batch of cookies will do." He says with feigned disinterest.

"Do you want them now or at a later date?"

"I have no interest in dragging this out, so now would be better."

"Alright, give me five minutes to change, I'll make you some cookies and we can throw on a movie." You smile at him. You change out of your dress and into a hoodie and shorts. Twenty minutes later you're sat with a tray of cookies and a few other small bites with some random sitcom on the TV.

"I don't understand the point of this. Is there even a plotline?" Loki scoffs.

"Yes but only a little one."

"A little one?"

"So there are a number of shows that you can throw on and watch out of order with little consequence. Like if you do watch every episode in order there is a throughline of like character development and life changes but if you jump into, let's say, season 3 episode 2, you'll just see some funny little antics that are mostly inconsequential and chances are will not come up again until maybe the finale where they recount all their little goofs over the years." You explain.

"Why?"

"Mindless entertainment? It's nice to have something to watch that you don't have to be aware of watching." You shrug. "Lots of shows have complex storylines and characters that need to be paid attention to in order to comprehend what you're watching. Sometimes you don't want to do all of that." You shrug.

"If you don't want to think about what you're watching, why watch anything?" He frowns.

"Pass the time, fill the silence, any number of things. Like we have one on but we're talking now so we're not really paying it any attention, but because it's a sitcom we're not missing anything vital because there's nothing vital to miss. And when this conversation lulls to a stop we'll just tune back in and pick up wherever it's at."

"Your Midgardian habits are very strange." Loki hums.

"What do you do when you're bored and want to be entertained without much effort?" You ask him.

"That specific phenomenon I'm not quite familiar with. If I'm bored, I read, practice spells, on Asgard there wasn't much time for boredom." He shrugs.

"Well, things are different on Midgard. And seeing as you hate everyone and everything about this place you may find yourself well acquainted with that specific phenomenon sooner than you might think." You say.

You gotta say you're pretty proud of your ability to interact positively with Loki. When he first started living here you never would've guessed you'd be watching movies and having silly conversations like this. He's always been rather closed off from the team but perhaps that's something you can actually work around.

*~*~*

"Loki!" You call when you catch him in the hall.

"What?" He rolls his eyes.

"Are you busy?" You ask.

"Why?" His eyes narrow suspiciously.

"Well I was meant to go to the aquarium with Thor today-"

"Thor is on Asgard." Loki says.

"Yes exactly." You nod. You weren't meant to do anything with Thor today, but it seems the key to the trickster god is minor deceptions.

"Did he forget you were going to this 'aquarium' today?"

"It would appear so. Which- I'm not mad about really but these tickets did cost money and I can't exchange them for another date so I was hoping you'd be able to replace him that way the ticket doesn't go to waste." You explain to him.

"You don't have anyone else you could ask?" He huffs.

"Not on such short notice." You shake your head.

"How short is short notice?"

"We need to be there in forty minutes."

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." Loki scoffs.

"If you come with me, when we get back I'll bake you a batch of cookies." You offer. It seems to be the easiest way to get him to do things. You watch Loki contemplate for a moment before he caves to his inner discussion although you're not sure there was much of a debate once you offered baked goods.

"Very well, I'll go so you don't waste your money, but you can't keep bringing your nonsense to me in exchange for cookies." He says.

"Of course not!" You smile knowing damn well you will be doing it again if you see fit. Loki will never admit to enjoying your company or wanting you to make him cookies, but considering he always accepts your offers and never truly complains when you're together, you know the irritation is only a front. "We'll leave in 15 minutes 'kay?"

"Very well." He says. You head back to your room to get yourself together and 15 minutes later you meet Loki by the kitchen.

"Ready Lo?" You ask.

"Yes let's get on with it." He says. You loop your arm through his as you leave the tower and you're surprised he doesn't protest the contact, but you won't bring it up. At the aquarium, you excitedly talk about all your favorite exhibits as you walk from section to section. "So what was the plan exactly?" Loki asks.

"What?"

"With Thor, why were you bringing him here in the first place?"

"Oh! Well because there's a lot he still wants to learn about Earth so I've been trying to take him places where he can learn a number of things at the same time." You shrug.

"And how is that going?"

"We've done the zoo and a couple of museums already so I'd say not bad. Oh, we're by the jellyfish, you should see the touch tank!" You say.

"The what now?" Loki frowns. You grab his hand and lead him to the shallow tank of water off to one side.

"This is a touch tank. These are jellyfish, they're like 95% water and don't have brains, some of them are dangerous, but these ones are pretty harmless and you can touch them! Only on the tops of their heads though. Like this." You lift his hand up and push down all but two of his fingers and then slowly, you guide his hand into the water. "You have to be gentle." You tell him softly as you let his fingers touch the top of a moon jelly in the pool. You turn to Loki with a small smile only to find him already looking at you very intensely.

"I'm quite gentle when I want to be." He says quietly. You step back a bit and clear your throat, dipping your own fingers in to touch a jellyfish for yourself.

"Well I hope you want to be gentle with the moon jellies. This is one of my favorite things here." You tell him.

"So anyone can just walk up and pet the jellyfish?" 

"Yeah! Isn't it cool?"

"Sure." He nods.

"Wait till you see some of the other Jellyfish they've got here! They're insane!" You take his hand again and walk further into the jellyfish exhibit.

"They have more open tanks of creatures?"

"Oh- no all the other Jellyfish are in closed tanks." You giggle.

"Just as well, you said some are dangerous, no?"

"Well, yes, but aren't they just so beautiful?" You say looking at one of the tanks.

"Breathtaking." Loki says before he can help himself. He clears his throat, lucky you're so captivated with the floating water creatures that you don't even notice his eyes on you as opposed to the exhibits.

"Thank you for coming with me." You tell him.

"You bribed me."

"True- but you still could have said no. Especially since you're not even a fan of our, how do you say it? 'Mediocre Midgardian food'."

"Yes well, you pout when you're disappointed and it's incredibly displeasing to see. The whole tower suffers your moods. And while Midgardian food is mediocre yours is- the least. Plus I can rub this in Thor's face."

"I see you really weighed those pros and cons." You chuckle.

"I must. If I'm to disrupt my entire afternoon on such short notice." He shrugs. You roll your eyes and pull him through to the next exhibit but the smile on your face can't be hidden.

~*~*~

You hum to yourself as you enter the tower library.

"Good morning Loki." You say immediately spotting him on one of the lounge chairs. He's always in here, it's like his sanctuary and over the last few weeks you've found it easy to interact with him.

"It's 3pm y/n."

"It's morning somewhere Lo, time is arbitrary, don't be a grump." You shrug.

"What are you doing here anyway?" He rolls his eyes.

"Utilizing the insane collection of books we have considering there's only like 3 people living here that would ever pick up a book for from here."

"You've been coming here a lot lately."

"Why should you be the only one taking advantage of this big otherwise undisturbed room?"

"The best part of this room is that none of you come here."

"If you want to not run the risk of having to interact with anyone who lives here to might I suggest your room which has a lock on it." You smile brightly.

"Very funny." Loki scoffs.

"I thought so too!" You snap back. Loki gives you a dry look.

"Must you be so-"

"Charming? Witty? Adorable?"

"Not quite the adjectives I would've chosen." He says.

"Well next time finish your sentence." You wink at him.

"Are you trying to get under my skin?"

"Of course not! But it's pretty easy."

"Why must you bother me?" His eyes narrow.

"Maybe because you like talking to me more than you want to admit."

"And why would you think that?"

"Because you always do."

"Do what?"

"I'm sure you can figure that out." You say turning to leave the library.

"Do what y/n!?" He calls after you. "You didn't even get a book!" He shouts as the library doors close behind you. Loki frowns to himself for a moment and then decides to contact the only person he'd ever go to for advice on any subject. A looking glass spell slowly brings Frigga to life above his palm.

"Mother." He gets her attention.

"Loki?" Frigga picks up her looking glass with a smile. "Hello my darling boy. So lovely to hear from you. Thor tells me you're well."

"In the physical sense, yes." Loki nods.

"What troubles you my dear son?"

"I think Midgardian women might be more confusing than those on Asgard." Loki says.

"A woman? Do you feel for her?"

"Don't be ridiculous mother." Loki's words come out as a breathless chuckle.

"It is not ridiculous. She plagues your mind. Why, if you do not feel for her?"

"Truthfully I'm not sure." He frowns.

"Have you considered that you feel for her?"

"How would I know?"

"I believe the fact that you are asking may perhaps be a strong indicator already. This girl, do you see her often?"

"She lives here so yes." He nods.

"I mean intentionally darling." Frigga smiles.

"What?"

"Walking past her in the hallways is not quite what I'm referring to."

"Oh- well she's the least insufferable person here so- sometimes, yes. Though it's usually her bribing me to do things when her other plans fall through."

"What do you mean?"

"Well she invited me to this water creature house they call an aquarium a couple of weeks ago because Thor forgot he was meant to go with her."

"Are you sure Thor was meant to go with her?" She asks.

"I don't follow." Loki shakes his head.

"I wonder if this girl is playing tricks on my trickster." Frigga smiles knowingly.

"Do you overestimate her or underestimate me to believe I could be outsmarted by a mortal?"

"It is not a blow Loki, be calm my son. She plagues your mind when she is not there, she has made her way to a spot many people never have the pleasure of knowing within you. I believe she has stolen your heart and even you do not know it yet."

"What makes you think that?"

"In all your years Loki you have never once asked me about a girl. And this one seems to have you quite... wrapped."

"I resent that notion." He scoffs.

"What made you contact me?"

"Well she was-" Loki stops himself, his mother has already decided Loki is a goner, perhaps he shouldn't feed her any more information.

"She was with you Loki?"

"I spend a lot of time in the library. She came by and we had a short conversation that's all."

"What did she say?" Frigga asks.

"She thinks I like her more than I do. Or rather more than I will admit. I asked her why and she refused to answer."

"Well- what would lead her to believe that?"

"I have no idea." Loki scoffs.

"How is your relationship with her different than with the others?"

"I don't speak to the others. I only speak to her and Thor."

"Tell me about her."

"She is- happy, but not like Thor- his happiness is loud and aggressive she is- a calmer happiness. She seems to be crucial to the peace in this madhouse. Not for me, for everyone. She's also frustratingly smart, she has a comeback for everything and- it's nice to feel as though someone on this dreadful planet can match me- even if I find it vexing at times. Also she bakes- I don't quite enjoy Midgardian food but her treats are quite good though I refuse to tell her that-"

"I'm sure she knows." Frigga says with a soft smile.

"Why are you smiling like that."

"If you could see your face when you speak of this girl you would know like I know that your heart is no longer yours."

"My heart is very much still-"

"No darling. You may not realize but your mind has already given your heart to her. Follow your heart to her. Allow yourself to go there. It will do you good and you deserve it."

"Mother I cannot." He shakes his head.

"You can, and I suggest you do soon. If you do not tell her she has your heart you risk her unknowingly breaking it. Though I sense she is more aware than you may think. Certainly she's more aware than you are."

"You keep saying that-"

"There was no day planned with Thor. I would bet money she wanted to go with you, but you are a tricky thing. To catch fox you must think like one."

"What do I do mother? If you are right and this girl does have me, what do I do?" Loki asks.

"Be kind, be honest, be true. Don't wait too long." Frigga warns.

"Don't wait too long?" He frowns.

"Yes child, that woman will not wait forever for you to wake up."

"What if she is not waiting?"

"You misunderstand. I'm not saying she is waiting on you to come to your senses what I'm saying is that affections change one day she may not enjoy your time as she does now, someone serious may woo her and you miss your chance entirely, stars forbid it but something could happen to her or you. Do not get in your own way Loki, you have a tendency to do that."

"I do not get in my own way."

"Loki." Frigga says, leveling her son with an unimpressed look.

"I will consider your advice mother thank you." Loki cedes.

"Good. I will expect an update soon so be prepared for me to check in."

"Of course mother. Take care."

"You too my son." Frigga sets her looking glass down and Loki disconnects his end of the spell with a sigh. If Frigga is correct, Loki has much to consider, and rather quickly based on her warnings.

*~*~*

When the door to the library opens you don't bother looking up. The book you're reading is far too interesting to stop mid-page.

"What are you doing?" Loki jumps when he walks passed you. You look up momentarily, debating how badly you want to make a stupid joke.

"I'm practicing my backhand spring." You say flatly.

"You're sitting on the couch?"

"I'm also holding a book and yet you asked what I'm doing. I don't know what answer you expected honestly." You shrug.

"I just meant you're not usually sitting around in here."

"Is reading in the library that odd to you?" You chuckle.

"Well- no. I was just expecting the library to be empty." He says.

"Would you like me to leave?"

"Why would you offer to leave? You were here first."

"Yeah but I can read anywhere. Your hermit tendencies limit your spaces far more than mine."

"I am not a hermit." Loki rolls his eyes.

"Of course not." You hum.

"I'm not. I just have no desire to waste my time having unintelligent conversations with the uncultured morons that live here."

"Well don't let me bother you then."

"Not you, the others. And you can obviously stay."

"Why thank you for deeming me worthy enough to stay in your presence." You quip dramatically.

"It's not as if you care what I deem anyhow."

"True, that was sarcasm. Happy reading." You turn your attention back to your book and though Loki would like the conversation to continue he can't think of anything to say to justify pulling your focus from the book you're so clearly captivated by. You're in the library with your book for a few more hours and during that time Loki cannot help the way his eyes wander to you every so often, he doesn't even realize it's happening at first but once he does his mother's words that have been in his head for the past 2 weeks ring even louder.

~*~*~

"Y/n!" Wanda practically sings as she walks, no from the sound of it she's skipping, over to you at the kitchen island.

"Yes Wanda my dear?" You chuckle, setting your sandwich back on its plate.

"You know our coffee shop?"

"Around the block?"

"Yep!" She nods.

"What of it?"

"Well I heard through the grapevine that someone who works there has a crush on you."

"You heard- through the grapevine?" You quirk up an eyebrow at her.

"Cassie told me."

"How did you end up in that conversation?" You chuckle.

"Not the point, we should go down there!" She suggests excitedly.

"I'm eating a sandwich-"

"Not right now, tomorrow morning."

"You wanna tell me- who this mystery crush is? Because I'm not going anywhere if you don't tell me." You say biting your sandwich.

"It's Elliot."

"Oh he's cute-"

"Wanda." Vision calls as the main elevator arrives.

"Soooo we'll game plan when I get back?" She asks walking backwards.

"Fine." You shake your head and chuckle as she disappears in the elevator with Vision. You take a bite of your sandwich, presumably alone again, only to hear a throat clearing from behind you. You look over your shoulder to find Loki the source of the sound.

"Oh hi Loki." You say covering your mouth.

"Hello." He mutters.

"What brings you out of hiding today?"

"I'm not a hibernating bear you know."

"Of course not." You hum. Loki opens the fridge to grab something to drink, although it's mostly just so he can convince himself to bite the bullet and confess to you before this 'Elliot' from the coffee shop has an opportunity to turn your head like his mother warned him of.

"Do you have a moment? I know you're- eating but I'd like to talk- about something." He says awkwardly.

"Sure. I can use multiple senses at once. What's up?" You ask taking another bite of your sandwich. Loki opens his mouth a couple of times before he frowns. "Is something wrong Loki?"

"I don't know." He says, brows furrowed as he looks at the floor.

"You don't know if something's wrong? Are you dizzy? Dehydrated? Feverish? Do you need to sit down?" You sit up, concerned.

"No, I don't."

"You sure? You look kind of- constipated. I think you should sit down."

"I don't want to y/n." He grits out.

"Okay, calm down no need to get angry with me for caring."

"You said I look constipated!"

"Well you do! But only a little bit!"

"This is not going at all how I planned it?"

"What are you on about Loki?" You frown.

"Nothing it was just way easier to do this in my head."

"Easier to do what?"

"Never mind. Enjoy your lunch." Loki pivots and you almost knock over your barstool trying to stop him from leaving the kitchen.

"Not so fast god of mischief tell me what it is you're so panicked about."

"It's nothing y/n." He rolls his eyes.

"Nonsense. If it were nothing you wouldn't have made such a big deal out of it in the first place." You tell him.

"Yes, I over reacted, which is what I just realized and why I'm no longer interested in having this conversation." He says completely avoiding your gaze.

"Don't be a coward Loki." You snap.

"I beg your pardon?" His eyes widen.

"Don't be a coward. I've never known you to shy away from sharing your thoughts even when nobody asked don't tell me suddenly you're incapable of speaking your mind."

"I am far from incapable." He says.

"So spill it." You push.

"And if I don't?"

"Then you're not who I thought you were."

"Over a personal thought?" His eyebrow raises.

"It's the principle. What have you got to lose that makes you so fearful of your own voice?"

"Something I didn't even realize was important to me until recently." He says quietly.

"What's that?" You ask. Loki's eyes scan your face for a long moment, and if not for how close you are you'd swear he's holding his breath for how shallow it is.

"You." He whispers.

"I'm not going anywhere." You shake your head.

"I'm afraid you may take that back if you hear that which I refuse to say." He says.

"Is the reward worth the risk?" You ask.

"If I'm lucky."

"I'm disappointed that you see me as someone so easily run off Loki."

"That's not what this is." He shakes his head.

"No? It sounds like it."

"Do you see me as somebody that could be loved?"

"Of course I do. Thor loves you unconditionally. Your mother too from what I've heard."

"Do you see me as somebody that could be loved, by you?" This question is far more hesitant.

"Is that what you want?"

"In time, yes." He nods and a stray giggle escapes your lips.

"That's what you thought would drive me away?!" You shake your head. "Maybe you haven't noticed but I put quite a bit of effort into creating time to spend with you."

"Oh come on it's mostly coincidence, your friends canceling or Thor forgetting you had plans."

"You silly trickster. I chose to spend that time with you." You say.

"To be clear- does that mean you're as taken with me as I am with you?" Loki asks.

"You're taken with me?!" You blink at him in shock.

"Yes was I not clear about-"

"I'm joking Loki I just wanted to hear you say it directly." You smile.

"You vex me." He breathes out.

"And yet you like me anyway. Even more than I expected."

"Don't boast."

"How can I not?" You ask.

"I can think of a few ways to stop you."

"You can try Loki but I'm not so easily swayed." You taunt. Loki's hand comes up to your cheek and he kisses you. His lips are soft and he kisses you as if he's got all the time in the world. When Loki pulls away your eyes flutter open with surprise.

"How's that for sway?" He smirks.

"I'll admit that wasn't a terrible start." You breathe.

"Oh yeah?" Loki lifts you into his arms suddenly and you squeal in surprise as he carries you to his room. He lays you gently on his bed and kisses you again. "Not a terrible start is not enough." He hums trailing to your neck, peppering your throat with kisses and light nibbles. Loki pulls your shirt over your head. "Stars above you're beautiful." He mutters trailing his fingers delicately across your newly exposed skin.

"I'm not a flower you know." You giggle, the soft touches making you feel ticklish.

"What do you mean?" He frowns.

"Nothing bad. You're just being much more gentle than I'd have expected." You tell him caressing his face. He pauses for a moment as you trace his features.

"Do you remember what I said at the aquarium?"

"About the hammerhead shark reminding you of-"

"No about being gentle you silly girl." He says with a disbelieving chuckle.

"Oh! Yes that you can be when you want to be."

"Precisely."

"I didn't realize it applied elsewhere."

"Do you not like gentle?"

"Gentle is good." You shake your head. "Just unexpected." You smile. Loki returns your smile and leans down to press kisses down your abdomen. He pulls your shorts and panties off together, kissing your calf ones you're freed from the fabric. Loki's eyes are on you as his lips glide up your leg, opened mouthed kisses until he reaches your thigh where he bites at the skin, just enough for you to feel it. With one last kiss to your hip, Loki buries his face in your heat. You gasp at the first feel of his tongue against your center. His movements are unhurried as he watches your reactions to his mouth. When he finds the rhythm that you react the strongest to he sticks to it, enjoying the whimpers and moans he pulls from you and the way your body grinds against him.

"Oh god." You pant, one hand tangling in his hair. When you feel two of his fingers slowly glide into your entrance and curl upwards your eyes shoot open with a whine that makes Loki hum against you. You glance down at him, surprised to see his green eyes peering up at you with something akin to adoration shining in them and despite the pleasure building in your belly all you can think about for a brief moment is how... pretty he looks. Of course, that train of thought is lost when Loki wraps his lips around your clit, focusing his attention on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Between his tongue and his fingers you don't have a chance of staving off the orgasm that washes over you soon after. Loki works you through it, only pulling away when your breathing starts to steady.

"You are a vision in the heat of release you know." He says a hand on your chin to guide your attention.

"No, I did not know that." You smile reaching up to undress Loki. You pull his shirt over his head, littering his chest with kisses as you undo his pants but don't pull them down. You slip your hand into the waistband of his underwear stroking his hard hot dick.

"F-fucking hell you might be the death of me." Loki breathes out shuddering beneath your touch.

"I sure hope not. I quite like you alive you know." You joke with a giggle. Loki grabs your wrist and shakily pulls your hand from him.

"Right, if this goes on I'll embarrass myself." He says with a slight chuckle shifting to pull his pants down enough to free himself. He lines himself with your entrance and slowly works himself passed your walls with short rolling thrusts, deeper each time.

"That's nothing to be embarrassed about you know Loki." You tell him, admittedly a bit winded as he fills you.

"Maybe not, but I'll admit it's not ideal for our first time together." He groans as he bottoms out.

"Don't get caught up in expectations Loki." You tell him.

"Only my own darling." He says. Loki holds still for a few moments, allowing you to adjust to his size, only moving when you begin to grind against him.

"Move, Loki, please." You groan. Loki lets out a breath as he starts a steady rhythm. He's immediately a string of groans and curses in your ear as he fucks you, his sounds mingling with yours beautifully.

"Gods you feel even better than I could've imagined." He pants out between thrusts.

"Don't stop baby. God you feel so good." You moan, grinding up against his hips to meet his movements. Loki reaches between your bodies and his fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles against the bud that turn your quiet moans to loud whines.

"Come on darling, I want to feel you cum on my dick. Please y/n- let go for me." Loki coaxes, kissing at your throat again and it doesn't take long for your body to tense with the feeling of another orgasm. Loki groans deeply as your walls tighten around him from your release.

"Did you like that Loki? Feeling my pussy clench from cumming for you? You're close aren't you? Come on baby, cum for me."

Loki's thrusts speed up a bit, then falter, and stall altogether moments later as you feel the heat of his release inside you. Loki kisses your shoulder gently as he comes down from his orgasm, your fingers stroking his hair a comfort he wouldn't have thought he'd enjoy.

"You know- I know you were trying to get me to stop boasting but if boasting always ends with us like this I'm inclined to do it more often." You say after a few moments of silence and Loki chuckles against your neck.

"Boasting is not a prerequisite my darling." He says sitting up. Loki conjures a damp cloth and gently dabs first your face, then your neck, and carefully between your legs before helping you into his shirt.

"Well what is?" You ask.

"There isn't one you tricky girl." He chuckles pulling you into his chest.

"How am I the tricky one here?"

"You caught the fox, I think that's worth some tricky points."

"What fox? Are you the fox?"

"Mhm." He nods.

"Well- then that's by far the best thing I've ever caught." You smile up at him.

"The fox isn't complaining either." He hums and you cuddle closer to him. This hadn't exactly been your original gameplan with Loki but this is way better than any outcome you could've expected.

***

[les4elliewilliams]

Syrup.

making pancakes with Ellie ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

cw/wc: 3.5k ! loser!ellie, dry humping, fingering + oral (e!receiving), kind of sub!ellie? oilin' her up 'cause pretty girls deserve special treatment. [not really mentioned because I rushed it towards the end.]

!!mdni!!

daily click・palestine masterpost・neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks.

Skipping classes with Ellie usually meant sleeping in and cuddling the whole morning, basking in the soft glow of your favorite movie or TV show. But not when she was ovulating and going feral over you. Ellie was perfect, such a fucking good girlfriend, never pressuring you into anything you didn’t feel like doing—but there were times when all you needed to do was hide from her. Especially when she was ovulating, it was as if she were reliving the raging hormones of puberty all over again.

What kind of girlfriend would you be if you didn’t help your girl when she most needed you? Letting her ride your fingers whenever she needed, her moans filling the room as you praised her sweetly, or letting her sit on your face for an hour straight until her body couldn’t take it anymore and you could barely breathe. You didn’t mind; in fact, you loved it.

She tasted so fucking good, and knowing she had gotten all wet over something as simple as a few words you’d said or some dumb shit she found utterly irresistible—even when you thought it was stupid—only made it better.

That particular morning, she woke up much earlier than you, her body already humming with need. The poor loser tried to wake you up for cuddles before classes, something you usually did daily before parting ways, but you didn’t budge. Her soft whispers and gentle shakes eventually turned into hungry kisses and wandering hands. Her breath was hot against your ear as she murmured how much she needed you, her fingers tracing the curve of your jawline. 

But you still shooed her away, “Five more minutes,” you mumbled, but five minutes turned into an hour and then two. You were so sleep-deprived, burning the midnight oil on your schoolwork, that you wouldn’t even hear your alarm in the morning if it weren’t for Ellie. Patiently, she took time out of her morning to shake you like a cocktail until you finally woke up.

You could hear her sigh and huff, shifting around uncomfortably, perhaps bored. “So, you don’t want cuddles before class?” she asked, her voice tinged with disappointment. But you ignored her, too exhausted to respond. “Fine, whatever,” she muttered, slipping into a slightly pissy mood because you pushed her away every time she wrapped her arms around you and planted soft kisses on your neck to rouse or wake you.

“Ellie,” you grumbled, still half-asleep, “Let me sleep.”

“Wake upppp,” she drawled into the crook of your neck, her warm breath caressing your soft skin. “I wanna cuddle,” she repeated, pouting, though you couldn’t see it because your eyes remained stubbornly closed. Her desperation and neediness grew as she clung to you.

“Nooo—’s too hot for that,” you whined, scooting away from your girlfriend once again.

When you finally woke up on your own and suggested skipping classes together, she was more than excited at the idea. Of course, she didn’t complain. Why would she when she’d get to spend the whole morning with you?

Let’s say she had different intentions from yours. While you just wanted to sleep in and spend the whole day in your cozy apartment to relax, she stayed home with you hoping for morning sex—but she didn’t get it.

“Skip classes? Fuck yeah, I’m in,” she exclaimed excitedly, her arm hooking around your waist to drag you closer to her. “There are maaany more fun things we could do instead...” Her voice shifted from excited to teasingly sultry, her lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Hmm... like what?” you mumbled sleepily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Well, I could give you a massage,” she whispered, planting soft kisses into the crook of your neck, making their way up to your jawline. “Or we could make pancakes.”

She was a little disappointed when you picked pancakes over a massage, but you were so hungry that you didn’t even notice. You padded to the kitchen with her walking closely behind, her green eyes glued to your ass as she let out a sigh. 

She was starving. 

Ellie was usually never that blunt when it came to these kinds of things. You’d usually pick up on her body language, or she’d let you know subtly, always careful not to make you feel pressured. She was a gentlewoman, after all.

“Get the flour and the eggs. I’ll get the rest.” You instructed her quickly, bringing her back to reality and pulling her out of her thoughts. She quietly complied, gathering all the necessary ingredients and placing them on the white countertop in front of her. Meanwhile, you grabbed a bowl from one of the nearby cabinets.

“Okay,” You scooped up a handful of the fine white powder, your fingers brushing against the cool, smooth surface as you measured the exact amount needed. The powdery substance was light and fluffy, and its scent was faintly sweet as you poured it into the bowl. “Dry ingredients first,” you said out loud, mostly speaking to yourself. 

You’ve always been terrible in the kitchen, managing to burn everything you touched or getting the ingredients completely wrong. Thankfully, Ellie had been there to help you improve over the years, guiding you through the basics and teaching you little tricks to make your cooking less disastrous. 

“Mhm,” she hummed back almost proudly. You could feel her presence lingering behind you, her breath warm against your neck. Her hands rested on your hips, fingers tracing small, lazy circles. The intimacy of the moment was palpable, each touch sending a shiver down your spine. You could sense her frustration; her body pressed a little closer, making her need evident in every movement. 

You started by pouring the powders into the bowl, but as you did, she began to tease you, planting soft, innocent kisses on all your sweet spots, making your breath hitch each time her lips met your skin. 

“And then we add the wet ones…” 

“Yeah, I know, I remember,” you said casually, trying to focus on mixing the different powders in the bowl. But Ellie’s attentions made concentrating difficult, her teasing kisses and soft touches getting the desired effect; she knew what she was doing.

“Can’t wait to taste your syrup on my tongue.” Her whispered words made your breath catch in your throat, and your stirring motions slowed in response. Her mouth was right by your ear, her breath warm and teasing against your flesh. 

“Ellie.” With a frustrated huff, you scolded her, your wispy brows furrowing together as you tried to appear stern. You could feel her lips twitching in satisfaction at your reaction against your epidermis.

“What?” she asked, her voice full of false innocence. She pulled away from your neck, resting her chin on your shoulder as she watched you work on the pancake mix. “I meant the syrup that comes with pancakes.” Her voice shifted back to its usual playful tone as she spoke, her words casual and light-hearted. Her hands rested gently on your hips as she leaned against you from behind.

“Yeah, obviously.” You responded sarcastically, rolling your eyes at her comment. But you couldn’t help but suppress a small smirk that threatened to form on your face, grateful she couldn’t see your expression.

“We’ve gotta mix the dry and wet together, and then we’ve got the perfect…consistency,” The last word was an alluring melody whispered directly into your ear, her soft lips brushing against your neck ever so gently. One of her arms moved from your waist, her fingers trailing softly along your arm until they wrapped around the handle of the whisk in your hand, bringing your motion to a halt.

More kisses were pressed to the side of your neck, making you tilt your head to give her better access. Her tattooed arm was still wrapped around your waist, holding you close and rocking you slightly from side to side.

“Hmm—you’re distracting me.” You couldn’t help but sigh softly, surrendering to her damp smooches and touches. Despite your best efforts to maintain your composure, you felt your body melt like butter against hers, your muscles relaxing in response to her gentle ministrations.

“Still want to make pancakes instead of getting that massage? ’m good with my hands, y’know.” Her husky voice was like silk in your ear, rich and smooth. Every word that left her lips was soothing and comforting, her tone gentle and seductive, making your heart skip a beat. “You might need my touch more than you think…” Her hips ground gently against the plushness of your ass, a subtle motion that made your clit twitch. 

You could feel the heat of her body pressing against you from behind as she continued to kiss and nibble on your neck. The sensation was soothing and arousing, making you lean into her embrace, your eyes closing blissfully as you surrendered to her attention. Lost in her kisses and nibbles on your neck, you suddenly remembered the pancakes you were mixing,

The whisk still clutched in your hand. With a reluctant huff, you shook yourself back to reality, forcing yourself out of the trance she had put you in.

“You’re such a fucking horndog.” you jokingly chided her, swatting at her hand as it crept toward your chest, but truth be told, you loved the attention. It was comforting knowing how much she wanted you, how much she needed you.

“Like you’re any better,” She let out an exaggerated scoff, her hand returned to your waist, joining the other one. 

You added eggs and milk, intently stirring and mixing the pancake batter, when you suddenly felt her grind against you again. The sensation sent a thrill through you, and almost instinctively, you pushed your ass slightly into her, making her breath hitch.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, her hands gripping your hips as she guided your ass against her crotch.

“We’re supposed to be making pancakes,” you mumbled incoherently, letting her use your body to get off.

Ellie’s hands roamed your body with a growing urgency, her touch both gentle and demanding. She pressed herself closer, her breath hot against the back of your neck, the mixing bowl almost forgotten in your hands.

“But you feel so good,” she whispered, her voice low and husky, sending waves of desire coursing through your very core. Her lips brushed against your ear, planting soft kisses along your jawline, her fingers tracing the curve of your waist. “And I’m hungry for something else,” she purred, her cold hands slipping under your shirt, her touch making your nipples harden almost immediately. She moved against you, her hips creating a rhythm that left you yearning for more.

Despite your best efforts to focus on the bowl in your hands, you found yourself pressing into her embrace, “Ellie,” you uttered, barely recognizing your own voice, “we should really  finish making breakfast.”

She scoffed, her voice tinged with a playful defensiveness. “You’re the one pushing your butt into me like a cat in heat!” Her breath was already starting to come in labored gasps. Her cheeks were a beautiful sight, flushed with a delicate rosy pink hue that complemented her complexion, although hidden from your view.

“That’s because you sound pretty,” you argued with a pout on your face, making her whimper at your words. She was so sensitive it was ridiculous; she could feel herself getting wetter with each passing moment, the dampness in her boxers becoming impossible to ignore. Your ass pushed into her again, intensifying her need.

“And I’m the distracting one?” she quipped, her breath catching. “God, you’re just as distracting.” She added, her head dropping onto your shoulder as she continued to roll her hips against you, her hands squeezing your boobs from underneath her your shirt.

You snorted at her words and at the whole situation, finding it amusing. “What’s gotten into you today? You woke up horny or something?” you taunted her, your voice dripping with sarcasm, though the answer was obvious.

“You’ve got me all riled up,” she mumbled softly, a groan slipping past her plump lips. Her rough hands pushed your ass further into her as she began to suck purple marks on your neck, her eyes closing as her movements became more desperate and rushed.

“You’re a fucking loser, El,” you teased her, yet still letting her do as she pleased with your body. 

Her whimpers turned into soft mewls as she ground against you, the friction sending jolts through her and making your pussy ache agonizingly. Her breath felt like the sea breeze against your skin; her soft lips left a trail of moist, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. She was losing herself in the moment, her body responding to every push and pull, every tease and taunt. Ellie’s hands roamed all over your body, her fingers digging into your flesh as if she couldn’t get enough of you.

“Need you right here, baby.” She uttered as she guided your hips, her breath hot and ragged as she pressed her forehead against your shoulder. The fabric of her boxers clung to her wet folds, every movement making the dampness more pronounced. It was as if her walls were pulsing your name in Morse code, each beat a desperate plea for you, for your fingers. “God… feels so good.” her voice barely a whisper.

“Does it?” Her hands gripped your hips, guiding you with a desperate urgency that made your pulse race and your head spin. The smooth and unyielding countertop offered a reassuring stability for the both of you as you leaned into it, your fingers splayed wide, seeking purchase on the slick surface. Her movements were frantic. The dampness of her boxers pressed against your unfortunately still-clothed ass, and you could feel your own slickness seeping through. 

“Yeah… so… so good,” she breathed out, humping against the fat of your butt as she held you tightly in place, afraid that you might vanish at any moment. “My brain stops working around you.” You could feel her body tensing against you, her movements becoming more erratic and rushed as her orgasm approached.

“Does that little brain of yours ever work?” you shot back, a sly smirk playing on your lips—one she couldn’t see, but knowing you, she could sense it. She hated how easily you could turn her into this desperate, needy creature, and she hated even more how you always made fun of her when she got this weak for you.

“I swear to-” She released a frustrated huff, her voice strained and tinged with annoyance as she spoke through clenched teeth. Her nails dig into the soft skin of your hips, leaving imprints of crescent moons behind.

Her reaction only fueled your playful cruelty. “Aww… what? Is my baby mad?” you crooned, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. “So fucking pathetic.” you hissed.

“Shut up,” she muttered quietly, her voice low and uneven, her clit throbbing madly at each word that came out of your mouth, “I’m-’m close,” she whimpered into your ear, burying her face between your neck and shoulder, feeling the cold tip of her freckled nose press against your skin.

“That’s it? Gonna cum in your boxers from a little friction?” you chuckled, her grasp tightening on your hips, your eyes darting to the bowl of pancake batter, lying there, forgotten and abandoned.

At your small chuckle, her head rose from your shoulder, and she shot you a look that you would’ve missed if you hadn’t turned your head ever so slightly at her sudden shift in position. She gazed intently at you, her brows drawn together in a slight frown. Her mesmerizing green crystalline eyes seemed unusually dark, while a rosy flush adorned her face.

“What are you… what are you gonna do about it?” A valiant effort was made to gather her composure, but her attempts were in vain as she struggled to stifle the whimpers that involuntarily slipped from her trembling lips. The muscles in her abdomen tensed beneath the gentle fabric of the oversized shirt.

“Hmm… I could move and not let you finish.”

Ellie let out a shaky exhale at your playful threat, her pace becoming desperate, and she could feel her legs starting to give up. “Don’t you dare,” she warned, trying to sound intimidating.

You smirked at her words and slowly moved away from her grasp, making her whine like a lost puppy.

“No, no, no,” she repeated frantically, her mind and body instantly going into panic mode as she reached for your arm again, yanking your body back against her. “Please, please, I’m so sorry. So sorry,” she muttered out a series of apologies and sweet nothings, kissing your neck pleadingly, trying to get what she wanted.

You clicked your tongue and shook your head, a taunting chuckle slipping away as you edged just out of reach of your girlfriend’s frantic kisses. Her kisses, fervent and pleading, missed their mark, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the power you held over her at that moment. You had her wrapped around your fingers when all she wanted was to ride your fingers. 

“Only good girls get to cum,” she groaned at your words, “Now, how ’bout you help me make pancakes?” Your question was accompanied by a lively and playful tone, which starkly contrasted her frustrated mood. Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you gazed at her, fully aware of the turmoil you were causing within her and enjoying every second of it. She was desperate for touch, for release, but you denied it to her. So fucking cruel.

Ellie looked at you through dark, full lashes, her face a canvas of desperate need, adorned with a constellation of freckles that dusted her pale skin. “Whatever, be that way,” She grumbled and scowled as she moved out of your personal space, giving you attitude.

“Get to work, slave,” You joked, watching her saunter over to the stove. She turned the fire on, her movements smooth and practiced as she reached for the pan, the soft clatter of metal on metal filling the kitchen. As she poured some oil, its golden stream glistening in the morning light, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to what was to come.

In your mind’s eye, you saw her back on your bed, her skin slick and glistening, her breath coming in quick, heated pants as she begged you to fuck her hard, just as she needed.

The thought of her beneath you, oiled up and ready for you, brought a sly grin to your face and a flutter in your pussy stomach.

Breakfast was just the beginning, after all.

She gave you a constant onslaught of attitude throughout the breakfast. She pouted and glowered, her sour mood a bitter blend of disappointment and indignation. Occasionally, she huffed or muttered something under her breath, her annoyance growing with each passing moment. She gobbled down the fluffy pancakes as she shot you glares. Poor thing, all flustered and needy, sitting there, denied of something she craved so desperately.

It was more than obvious that you would satisfy her urgent needs right after satisfying your own appetite. After all, you were starving and would need all the energy you could get for the intense workout in store for the two of you. 

You pulled as many moans and gasps from her as you could, your manicured nails slipping on the soft, slippery skin of her thighs as you eagerly lapped at her folds.

You kept taking and taking, relentless and insatiable. Ellie was a fucked-out mess, babbling nonsense as she teetered on the edge of yet another release. You were fucking her dumb, and you weren’t even close to being finished with her.

“Another one, Els. C’mon, be a good girl for me,” you pleaded with a breathy voice, coaxing her with every word until she gave you precisely what you wanted. She was that good of a slut for you, and you loved every second of it. 

“I know, babe,” you cooed sweetly, your fingers knuckles-deep inside her, her moist and abused walls pulsing around them.

She was a whiny mess, squirming so much that you had to pin her down, her teeth harshly biting her bottom lip, her green eyes teary from the overwhelming pleasure you were giving her. “I know, I know- but it’s gonna make you feel better,” you murmured, knowing her mind was too far gone to focus on your words.

“Just need to cum on my fingers, ’s all.” and all she needed to do was just lay there and take it. Take what she had wished for the whole morning like a needy brat.

Only after about ten orgasms did you decide it was time to let your poor girlfriend recover. Her skin was flushed, and a fine sheen of sweat glistened in the golden light that tiptoed through the window, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Her whole body trembled like a leaf, and the sheets beneath her were damp, ready to be thrown into the washing machine. Your thumb trailed down her happy auburn trail, her bush glistening with her own juices; her pearlescent sweetness dripping down onto the mattress, just like syrup.

daily click・palestine masterpost・neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks.

[jobean12-blog]

Everything

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader (No!outbreak!Joel- friends to lovers)

Word Count: 4,359

Summary: You live next door to Tommy and fall into an easy friendship with him but then you meet his older brother and fall into a lot more than friendship but will Joel's struggles stand in the way...

Author's Note: This is for @the-slumberparty February Sleepover Challenge and Eight Types of Love. I went with Philia (deep friendship) again because I just love the whole friends to lovers trope and wanted to do something with Joel. This has a little of better off friends (in Joel's mind) too. Thank you loves for hosting and thank you all so much for reading! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: lots of tension, flirting, some light angst mixed in because Joel has his head up his ass, softness, fing-er-ing, o-ral (f rec), p in v, pet name, a curse or ten, Joel gets dom a bit- think that's it lol

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

You begin to wake to the quiet sound of Joel murmuring in his sleep, the room dark other than the flickering television. His arm is heavy across your waist and your back is pressed to his chest. The warmth from his body has seeped into every part of you and you can’t help but snuggle into him.

He whispers your name and his arm tightens at your waist.

“Joel?”

With no verbal answer he starts to slowly roll his hips, introducing you to the hardness between his legs.

You gasp and meet his movements. He groans and his hand starts to move, his fingers finding the hem of your shirt and slipping under.

His hand continues to explore your skin as he mumbles sleepy words but you can only catch some broken phrases.

“…a dream…you’re too good…but it’s all I…”

His words trail off but his fingers keep wandering and when his hand slips down the front of your leggings you grab his wrist and push it lower, wiggling your ass against him with a desperate plea.

“Please Joel. More.”

He tugs you closer, murmuring in your ear with another roll of his hips. You moan out his name and he suddenly goes still, his panting breaths echoing in the quiet.

“What the hell?” he says into your neck.

Everything comes back to him in a rush. The movie, you falling asleep first in his arms and then his own eyes closing as he gave in to sleep. And now he’s woken up with his hand halfway down your pants and his arousal digging into your ass.

But there was more. Your whispered pleas, his name on your lips...had he imagined it all?

His eyes widen and he lunges up from the couch, away from you.

“Fuck darlin.’ I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He rakes both his hands down his face.

“No. I’m fine,” you assure him. “It’s ok.”

“Were you even awake? Did you ask me to stop at any moment? Tell me the truth.”

He waits with a pained expression after his rush of questions, worry etched across his handsome face as he holds his breath.

“I was awake enough and I knew you were dreaming but I didn’t want you to stop.”

He swallows the growl that tries to burst from his throat.

“Why didn’t you want me to stop?”

He can’t help his question, can’t let his curiosity go unchecked even though he knows you’re too good. Too good to be true. Too good for him. That you deserved better.

You don’t hesitate when you answer. “It felt good, so good. I love having your hands on me.”

It’s too much, your confessed words already branding themselves onto his skin and as much as he wants to pin you back down to the couch and finish what he’s started he takes another step back.

“I thought I was dreaming…are you sure you’re ok?”

“I am and I should be apologizing.”

His hand runs forcefully through his sleep mussed hair and let’s out a quiet curse.

“We were both half asleep. It was nothing.”

He says the words without meeting your eyes and you withdraw with a sharp intake of breath and when he finally lifts his gaze to yours he nearly crumbles to his knees to beg for your forgiveness.

“Oh...I guess you’re right.”

You glance down at your hands and blink away the wetness in your eyes.

“I’m a guy darlin’…I fell asleep with you pressed against me, and I reacted. I’m sorry if you thought…”

“No. I didn’t think,” you whisper, standing and wrapping your arms around your middle like a shield.

“It’s late,” you say as you back away from him.

“Right,” he answers, having to hold himself back from reaching out for you.

He swallows hard before walking toward the door and slipping his boots on. He stares at you in silence before he quietly says goodbye.

You nod and wait for the door to close before collapsing back onto the couch.

Your first knock goes unanswered and when you catch the buzz of a saw on the other side of the door you knock harder. The sound stops and is replaced with the heavy footfalls of his boots.

He opens the door to reveal you standing on the other side in your pretty dress, cookie box in hand.

Once his initial shock wears off it’s replaced with the familiar intensity he holds only for you, as if you’re all he sees and it’s everything.

That’s why when he shouts, “what are you doing here?” you wince slightly.

“I’m here because I missed my friend,” you state. “And I brought you cookies.”

He wants to tell you he’s missed you for every second of the last three days. Wants to wrap you in his arms and keep you there forever but he remains silent.

When he doesn’t say anything you continue on. “Are you going to let me in?”

“If you don’t mind the mess, go right ahead,” he says, stepping back.

“I don’t,” you murmur and brush past him.

He sucks in a quiet breath when your scent wafts up to his nose and closes his eyes for a moment to savor it.

“Watch the tools,” he says. “You’ll get hurt.”

“It looks great already,” you tell him as you swivel on your feet, careful to mind any sharp tools.

Joel nods before rubbing the back of his neck. “I can show you around, since you’re here.”

He holds his hand out toward the steps and you start to walk up them. He keeps his eyes focused on your feet, willing them not to travel any higher to peek under the hem of your dress.

You walk from room to room as he explains what he’s been doing to the new house he’s renovating, your brightness emanating into every space and filling it up with new light.

“Why aren’t you at work?” he asks, his voice tight.

His foot kicks out at some saw dust, sending it dancing into the air, illuminated by the streaks of sunlight filtering in through the window.

“I took a long lunch,” you explain. “I have to go back soon, I just…”

“What? You just what darlin’?” he asks, hating his hard tone.

You place the cookies down on the work bench in the room and look him in the eyes.

“I hate that we haven’t spoken in three days. I hate not knowing if you’ll want to hang out with me again. I know you’re unhappy about what almost happened the other night, but I think you’re taking this a bit too far.”

He takes a step closer to you, keeping his hands on his hips, knowing if he reaches out to touch you, he won’t be able to stop.

“Back up darlin.’ Did I hear you say I was ‘unhappy’ about what happened?”

“Yeah…I know it was my fault. You left and I…”

“You did nothing wrong,” he states, moving closer. “Nothing at all. Are we clear?”

Your back presses to the wall when he’s close enough for you to touch and your brow furrows.

“But you were upset and I…”

His palms land flat above your head on either side of the wall, his teeth griding in his jaw.

“I’m warning you darlin’.”

Several seconds pass where your gaze lingers on his face before your lashes lower and fall between his legs to his obvious arousal pressed against the tight fabric of his jeans.

Your breathing quickens and you lick your lips, parting them to speak but your words and any coherent thoughts are lost when he kisses you.

You melt against him, pliant and willing and he moans into your mouth, crowding you against the wall until there isn’t an inch of space left between you. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck and takes a deeper taste before he feels your hands flatten along his chest with a gentle pat.

Breathe.

He breaks away with a groan and scans your face for any signs of regret but instead sees swollen lips and bright eyes and it’s everything…it’s achingly beautiful. He sears the image into his brain forever.

With a sigh he leans forward and rests his forehead to yours, squeezing his eyes shut.

“You do want me.”

Your words are husky and when he meets your eyes again, the hunger burning brightly in his morphs your expression into one of relief.

“Darlin’,” he murmurs, brushing his nose along yours, “want isn’t a strong enough word for what I feel…for what I want to do to you.”

You breathe out his name, grabbing fistfuls of his soft tee shirt when you ask, “which is?”

His lips meet the shell of your ear and the truth comes out in a rush of warm breath that makes you shiver.

“I want to fuck you so good you won’t be able to walk straight the next day.”

The evidence of his words pulses against your stomach and it gives you courage to ask your next question.

“Do you want to fuck me against the wall…or spread me out on your bed Joel?”

He hisses out a curse and goes still before pinning you with a glare.

“You should be telling me to fuck off darlin.’ I walked out on you after I gave you some bullshit excuse…you better tell me, or else…”

“Or else what? What are you going to do?”

His fist lands on the wall with a heavy thump. “You’re getting yourself into trouble here angel.”

Your eyes light up at the endearment and he takes note.

“What does that mean? Trouble? Are you all talk or are you going to show me…”

Your words end on a gasp when he drops his hand from the wall and reaches under your dress, the feel of his big, work-roughened fingers on your skin making you sink your teeth into your bottom lip.

You reach up and rake your fingers through his tussled hair, feeling empowered by the shiver than passes through him, his eyes closing.

“Joel. Please.”

His eyes pop open and he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your heard with one hand while the other remains hidden beneath your dress, teasing the waistband of your panties.

“You deserve better,” he rasps.

You shake your head side to side, moving closer until your lips are a breath apart.

“No one treats me better than you.”

It’s a whisper against his mouth and when you see the fierce look in his eyes you expect him to pin you against the wall again but it never happens.

He falls to his knees and lifts your dress, burying his face between your thighs. The hair lining his cheeks and jaw rub roughly against your skin and his calloused hands yank your hips closer.

“Is this what you want angel?” he asks. “Want me on my knees for you, begging to taste you.”

Your fingers land in his hair again and you give it a sharp tug.

“Fuck,” he growls before moving your wet panties to the side and sliding his tongue straight through you.

Your legs shake and your head rolls along the wall.

“Joel,” you whine.

When he flicks your clit with his tongue it sends you reeling, rolling your hips into his face as he repeats the motion over and over then sucks it into his mouth. You’re so close to the edge but when he abruptly stands and cages you against the wall again, you let out a whine of frustration.

His hand slips down your body and he teases you before sliding a thick finger inside, his head falling to your neck with a muffled curse. You fumble with his jeans, managing to pop open the button and pull the zipper down far enough to press your palm against his hardness.

His hips buck into your hand and you feel him thicken, your breathing heavy when you ask for “more.”

With a groan of satisfaction he pushes a second finger inside you, your name coming out in a strangled hiss when you tighten around them.

Without warning his hips stutter and you feel warm moisture coat your hand. You keep one hand locked on his broad shoulder, still feeling unsteady on your own feet. His fingers are still buried deep inside you when his lips press softly to your neck and trace a path to your mouth.

When his eyes finally meet your own he slowly pumps his fingers, drawing small gasps from your parted lips.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous angel. I can’t help myself…I can’t. I’m sorry.”

He pulls his fingers free and you whine at the loss, earning a teeth grinding warning from him.

“I’m not sorry,” you say and steady your gaze.

“Oh yeah,” he answers, his body still caging you in. “It’s not good enough. I’m not…”

“Don’t say it.”

You cover his mouth with your hand. “Don’t tell me what’s good enough for me. I know what I want.”

“Please angel,” he says, his voiced laced with pain. “I can’t stay away.”

“And I don’t want you to.”

The breath rushes out of him and he sags against you.

Sensing he needs some space and knowing you are running out of time you rise up to kiss the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering on his skin and breathing him in.

“I’m going to clean up and then go back to work…but I’ll see you this weekend.”

His fingers ghost along your arm and trace the curve of your shoulder before he takes your chin in his hand and tugs your mouth to his for one last kiss.

Lost in thought, Joel takes no notice of Tommy as he walks up to the truck window, the knock making him jump in the seat.

“What the fuck?” Joel mutters when he turns to see Tommy staring back at him through the glass, looking amused.

Joel pushes the door open and steps out, walking around Tommy without a hello.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” Joel asks when he reaches the back of the truck and opens the hatch.

“Hello to you too brother,” Tommy teases. “And you never answered your phone. I need to know if you can pick up beers for the party this weekend.”

“Are you really having a birthday party? Aren’t you too damn old for this shit?” Joel says with a shake of his head.

The corner of Tommy’s mouth lifts. “Listen, just because you’re a grumpy stick in the mud doesn’t mean the rest of us need to be. I feel like celebratin’.”

“What were you thinking about in there anyway?” Tommy asks. “You looked like you were on another planet.”

When Joel doesn’t answer Tommy just smiles.

“She’ll be there of course.”

Joel remains quiet and Tommy claps him on the shoulder. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, brother, but if my girl was going to be at a party, looking damn fine, I’d be there. And early.”

“My girl,” Joel muses as the rubs his scruffy jaw. “I’ll be there.”  

“And don’t forget the beer!” Tommy shouts as he walks back to his own truck and gets in.

You check the time and see that it’s still early before you have to get dressed so you walk over to the window and peek at Tommy’s house. Your thoughts wander to Joel and you wonder if he’s already at Tommy’s. As if you’ve summoned him he appears at the front door with a black garbage bag and starts walking toward the side of the house.

He’s wearing a button-down shirt instead of a tee shirt and it’s tucked into his tight-fitting jeans. It makes your breath catch in your throat and without thinking you rush to your kitchen garbage and pull out the half full bag, tying it quickly before tightening the tie of your robe.

You open your front door and keep your eyes forward as you walk toward the pails. The sound of a loud metal bang drags your attention toward Tommy’s house where you find Joel standing, hands on hips and eyes on you.

You throw him a wave before dropping the small bag of garbage into your pail and starting back toward the house. He moves in your direction, gently grabbing your wrist before you reach the door.

“Hi,” you say sweetly.

“Hey darlin’,” he murmurs, not letting go of you. “You wearin’ that tonight?”

At the teasing tone of his voice you feel relieved and smile, glad things aren’t entirely awkward since the last two times you were together.

“It’s comfortable,” you say. “But no.”

“But you look good,” you tell him. “Really good.”

He rubs the back of his neck and then using the hand still wrapped around your wrist, tugs you into his chest.

“Thanks,” he whispers.

You shift closer and he asks, “do you usually walk around in nothin’ but your robe?”

“Who said I had nothing on under here?”

He keeps his eyes on yours but drops a hand to the tie at your waist, giving it a light pull.

“Did you ever eat those cookies I made you?”

Your question catches him off guard and he barely has time to register his surprise before you continue.

“Or did you have enough dessert?”

You raise an eyebrow at the pained expression on his face and when he closes his eyes and groans you lift your hands to the collar of his shirt and toy with the fabric, pulling him closer.

“You’re not holding back at all are you?” he asks. “Not that I’ll ever forget how you taste.”

“Why should I?” you counter. “I know what I want.”

“Then say what you want, angel.”

You visibly preen at the nickname, wetting your lips before you speak and close the small space between you.

“I want you to fuck me, Joel.”

“Damn it,” he breathes, twisting the tie of your robe in his fist.

His mind instantly fills with filthy thoughts but he doesn’t respond with more than his initial curse.

“Say something,” you whisper. “I want to know what you’re thinking.”

“No you don’t,” he replies.

“Yes,” you counter with firmness. “I do.”

“I told you…one taste…it’ll never be enough. I want you every way I can have you. Every way you’ll let me. I want to do everything to you.”

You sway into him and your lips brush his ear just as you’re about to speak.

“JOEL!” Tommy yells. “Where the hell are you?”

Your eyes go wide as the haze lifts and you tuck your face into his neck, murmuring something incoherent. He echoes your frustration with a sigh.

“What time will you be ready?” he asks, his grip on you still tight.

“Just need another twenty minutes.”

“Good, I’ll pick you up then.”

You reluctantly pull away from him and give him a wry smile. “You’re going to pick me up? At my house? Right here?”

“Yeah,” he says, leaving no room for argument. “Why not?”

You open your mouth but he presses his finger against your lips. “Just let me come pick ya up darlin.’ Please.”

“Ok,” you breathe out before taking a step back.

“See you in twenty,” he says and watches until you’re safely inside.

Joel stands along the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he scans the room, avoiding Tommy’s prying eyes, but it’s to no avail.

“Don’t look so bored big brother,” Tommy drawls. “I’m sure she’ll be here any minute.”

Joel checks his watch. “Actually, she will be because I’m going to get her right now.”

“You’re picking her up? But she lives next door!”

Joel ignores Tommy’s comment and pushes off the wall with a huff.

When he reaches your door he knocks and hears your “come in.” He walks in and quietly closes the door, his eyes instantly landing on your couch as he relives the memory of the other night for the millionth time.

“I’ll be right there,” you shout from down the hall.

He rubs his palms on his jeans and tries to look relaxed even though it feels like he’s about to combust.

You walk into the living room and smile. “Ready.”

He stands up straight, hands clenched at his sides as his eyes sweep over you from head to toe and his voice a rasp when he says, “you’re not wearing that angel. You’ll have to kill me first.”

You look down at your form fitting dress with a frown then lift your eyes and chin. “Oh yes, I am!”

“The fuck you are.”

Your irritation wars with the blaze of heat trailing across your skin but you manage to walk forward toward the door and past him.

But his arm shoots out and grabs you around the waist, spinning you until you’re plastered against his hard chest.

“Fuck angel.” His hands flex on your hips. “I don’t think you understand. If anyone sees you in this…anyone but me…”

“It’s just a dress,” you say. “And I like it.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Please. Go change.”

You soften at his gentle pleas but you can’t help to push a little harder, knowing he’s about to give in.

“Make me.”

His eyes darken with warning and you lean closer, invitingly.

“You want to show off his gorgeous body,” he murmurs, slipping his fingers under the thin strap at your shoulder. “You’ll show it off to me.”

“Joel…”

He pushes the strap until it slides down then drags his rough fingertips along the neckline of the dress, stopping at the swell of your breasts.

“You were just going to walk into that party wearing this…what do you expect me to do?”

“I told you what I want you to do Joel.”

“Say it again,” he growls.

“I want you to fuck me.”

You enunciate all the right words even though your breathless by the end of it.

His fingers continue to your other shoulder, dropping the strap there and circling your soft skin.

“You’re a tease. You’re driving me insane.”

“I’m not the tease,” you shoot back. “You’re a tease and I’m tired of it. Either you want me. Or you don’t.”

He lifts his hands and cradles your face between them, brushing his thumbs across your skin.

“All I want is you angel. I want to be yours. I want to know all your favorite things, in and out of bed. All of it. I want it to be mine.”

With a concentrated effort you remind yourself to take a breath, seeing that means every word of it, his expression daring you to contradict him.

You reach out with the intention of unzipping his pants, but he catches your wrist. “Not yet angel. If you touch me, I’m going to need to get inside you and I need to taste you again first.”

He walks you backward toward the kitchen table and you collapse back with his gentle push. Your dress is hiked over your hips to reveal your panties and a hungry sound hums in his throat as he takes you in. Slowly he drags the delicate fabric down your legs then stuffs it into the back pocket of his jeans before he spreads you open.

His tongue drags over you teasingly at first until something inside him breaks and costs him his discipline. The calloused hands that hold your thighs apart grow rougher, his throaty growls vibrating right through you as his tongue circles your clit.

Your fingers find purchase in his wild curls and he makes an appreciative noise so you give them a tug.

“So good, Joel. Oh my god.”

Already your muscles start to tighten and you know it won’t be much longer. He slides two thick fingers inside you, sucking your clit into his mouth at the same time and it sends you tumbling over the edge with a cry of his name.

His hands are soft and delicate as they caress your skin and he takes you in his arms, sitting you upright. You hold on to the edge of the table and watch him as he frees himself from his pants and palms his cock. The sight makes your mouth water and it takes all your restraint not to reach for him.

“Fuck angel,” he murmurs as he slips himself between your legs. “Do you have any idea how you’re looking at me right now?”

“How?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Like you’d beg for it if I asked.”

You work your hips in a slow circle, coating him in your arousal.

“Is that what you want?” you purr.

He groans and grits his teeth.

“Please, Joel. Please.”

“Fuck, stop. I can’t take any more,” he hisses, before he thrusts into you hard.

The sudden, perfect fullness of him makes you whimper and when he starts to move your eyes roll back in your head.

His lips find yours and he swallows every moan of pleasure as each pump of his hips drives you closer to your release. You pull his bottom lip between your teeth, begging him for more. Harder. Faster.

He gives you what you want and the pressure that builds inside you is threatening to swallow you whole and when his hand smooths over your thigh and slips between your legs, pressing right where you need it, you lose control.

His fingers dig into your skin, hard, as you clench around him, hips moving so fast they start to stutter.

“So good, angel. You feel so fucking perfect.”

You feel him thicken before his warmth fills you up and he chants your name in a breathless whisper. He falls against you, cradling you in his arms and tracing the line of your neck with his lips.

You tremble in his embrace as your hands dip inside the open buttons of his shirt to feel more of him. He whispers your name, his mouth moving along your skin, hot and wet.

“No one else does this to me angel. I already want you again. Fuck.”

@lizette50 @kmc1989 @lorilane33 @littleseasiren @hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814

[loveyourlovelysoul]

Choose a number 1-30 and read a sentence for you in time of needs. You can ofc read them all.

1- You're braver than you think. You can get through this too. Just take a breath and then start again. Do not give up.

2- You're not alone even if at times it feels so. Don't worry about being a burden or annoying others: ask for help, talk about your needs and feelings. You don't have to deal with all that by yourself. Keep asking even after being rejected. Someone will answer you.

3- Look inside and see your real worth. No one else can compare to you. You're you, and you're enough and deserving already as you are. Don't let others' harsh judgement make you think otherwise.

4- Life is made of light and dark and so are you. Find your balance again among the two and keep going. It'll be fine, no feeling is going to last forever.

5- Things look scarier and rockier cause they're changing (you're changing too). It's okay to feel uncomfortable and a bit loss or overwhelmed: give yourself time until you find a new balance in your new reality. It won't be bad, I promise.

6- Go slow, take your time. Nothing and nobody is rushing behind you. It's okay to take breaks, it's okay if you're taking a bit more time than you thought in doing something. Focus on the journey not on how much time you're using or thinking you're wasting. You're not wasting time when you use it for yourself. But worrying will make you lose a part of it and hurt you even more.

7- Try to believe that things can change. Be open to them, even if you cannot control this process and see how it is gonna be, chances are it will be great. Trust yourself too (not your fears though, separate from them).

8- You're on the road of success, whether you see it or not. Keep learning, keep welcoming (your feelings in particular): the more grounded and stable you will be able to be, the more opportunities you'll be able to see and make yours.

9- Always be kind and compassionate with yourself: the mistakes you made today won't ever be the mistakes of tomorrow. Making mistakes is a way of learning, not a confirmation of you not being enough. Nobody ever has made no mistakes while trying or becoming better at something. Be patient and give yourself another chance (and even more).

10- Remember the last decision in your life is always up to you: you're the protagonist of your life, don't let it pass you by. Even if at the moment you cannot see a way out, it will come to you. Keep staying hopeful. Keep focusing on what you can actually control, be it even just your feelings.

11- You're not responsible for anyone's feelings or emotions. Remember you cannot control how they react to you or anything really, and you don't have to necessarily make everything better for others. Respect yourself too.

12- Be confident in your abilities and knowledge. Do not second guess yourself cause you were somehow taught you're not good enough: you are. And you can be wrong here and there too and it won't change your worth ever. Trust yourself whether you're right or wrong and soon you'll be just right.

13- Remember that as you give, you also need to receive from others as much. Stay open to that. You don't have to just empty yourself in order to get crumbles or the bear minimum: that's not what healthy relationships are about.

14- Set your boundaries and stand up for yourself. You're not being selfish for this, as you're not imposing on or taking advantages of others. You're just putting yourself on the same page as them, you need as much respect and love as them.

15- Take care of you: stay hydrated, make your bed, take a shower, go for a walk, enjoy a nice book or video or movie, sing, dance, paint... prepare yourself a nice cup of tea and treat yourself with a little gift here and there. You deserve all this, especially when things get rocky and too much to bear with. Celebrate your little successes too.

16- Surround yourself with the right people for you. If you cannot get away from some negative people, try at least to build boundaries and find other people with whom you can share nice moments of peace and growth, and that can get your feelings too. It's important to communicate with people that can understand us.

17- If you feel alone, try to go out and go visit place where you may find like-minded people. Join a volunteering association, go to a movie teather, a park or a library, or start a course of something you're passionate about. Sometimes we need to be the one creating opportunities to ourselves instead of waiting for others to approach us first.

18- It's okay to feel lost while trying to figure out what to do or where to go. Take a breath when this happens and focus on just doing things you like. The more you'll get to know yourself and work on something you enjoy, the faster you'll get to understand more about the next steps to take. Ask to someone trusted for their advice as well: many times people around us can see us better than what we do. Just remember that not everyone can really do that anyway so trust yourself first.

19- You don't have to work on your fears anytime you get triggered or feel overwhelmed. Take a break, focus on something else and come back to it another day. Taking breaks is part of the healing process as much as working with your shadows and triggers, so take time to enjoy your present life away from that too.

20- Help yourself liberating from the excess of energy, caused by anxiety and overthinking, that you may have stored in your body. Move your body: walk, dance, do yoga or any little light exercise (as much as you body allows). Go back to yourself, get in touch with your body and release what is not serving you anymore.

21- Journaling can help you wording and throwing out your confused thoughts, in order to clear them from the inside. You don't have to write them reasonably, this will come later: just focus on freeing yourself first and foremost. At times we just need to pour emotions/events out to process them.

22- Trauma may have caused you to detach from yourself, so take time know yourself again. Know your values and what you can compromise on and why. List things you like and dislike, what you think are your strengths and what may be your flaws (be objective here, don't let others or your wounds decide for you) and so on... you make the rules. Making lists of pros and cons for something may also be useful.

23- As we never stop learning, we never stop making mistakes and growing. Share everything you got around you, keep welcoming and understanding yourself and the world around you. Keep spreading your talents: yes you do have talents, and no they're not negative ones. Allow yourself to try anything you want: who cares if others do it too? They are not doing it better than you, they're doing it differently. See yourself where you can get just by trying with no pressure.

24- You can also try something new and different from what you're used: getting out of your comfort zone can be very inspiring both for your creativity, your mind and your life in general (and in knowing yourself). Share your finds, share your passions. Don't be shy.

25- Having being judged so harshly during your life has probably made you more insecure and willing to close off from the world: please try and allow yourself to see that even if it hurt you so much, it wasn't on you. You weren't the real object of those judgement. It is always all in the head of the person judging, it's never on the object. Be nicer with you, you're worth much more than that.

26- What is really stopping you from trying what you have in mind? Fear of making or not making? Either way, take your fear by the hand and take it to see how is it gonna be for real. Our minds want to keep us safe and try to make things look worse than they actually are just cause they want to keep us in a known zone. But what if that's not where we're supposed to stay? Or where we want to stay?

27- Don't fear: you won't be let down forever nor you won't be alone forever. Your people are coming, try to get ready to meet them and let them in. You're not made for everyone and, if your past has been tough, you may fear not being good enough for the relationship (any type) of your dreams, but you are. And you'll have the chance to build it the moment you'll be ready for it.

28- You may not trust others much out of past hurt, but the fact is that it's never your fault what others do with your trust. You don't have to feel guilty or any less cause you trusted the wrong people. It wasn't your fault.

29- Take your time when you need to bring yourself closure about an event or a relationship. Go slow and try to welcome and nurture each of your emotions and feelings, of whatever type they may be. Ask for support, talk about how you really feel, write, and slowly go back to your passion. Act according on what you feel like doing. Do not make sudden decisions and also, take time to grieve and cry. Grieving is complex, you'll experience ups and downs: it's okay, give yourself time and space to deal with all that at your own pace and conditions.

30- Healing is not about not being triggered anymore and feeling like nothing can scare you: healing is about learning how to recognize your triggers before they hurt you and taking action so that these emotions won't overcome you as they did. It's about learning to not let your fears decide your actions, but taking actions even if not knowing the results feels really uncomfortable and scary. It's about learning to be in discomfort and not letting this ruin your whole life.

---

I hope these short texts can help you in your journey. I hope you take care of your whole being even if you don't really love yourself. I hope you can see yourself as someone you may end up liking after chatting a bit or as someone in need and that you may want to support. Start with that. And be open to see your good sides too, cause you have plenty even on your darkest days (they never disappear).

[austinbutlerslovers]

Benny Cross The Bikeriders Fantasy Part 5

Label Mature 18+

One shot/ Story Continuation

Chapter 5 Broken Promises

🔗 chapter 1 🔗 chapter 2 🔗 chapter 3 🔗 chapter 4

Summary 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.

♠️ Passionate Smut ♠️ Benny injured kink •fingering you while he’s hurt •oral on Benny for ego• riding Benny while he’s in pain • size kink• clit play • nipple play •Benny pushing his limits with sex• Benny claiming you • breeding kink • multiple orgasms •multiple creampies • aftercare

📖 Proof reader @purejasmine @burnthheparaphilia

Heavily Based on the Bikeriders Movie 🩸 Mentions of Blood (Benny beaten severely)

🏍️ Inspo: Anonymous Requests Combined • Benny injured weak & helpless • Benny needing constant care/ depending on you entirely •Benny whimpering and begging •Oral on Benny to make him feel better •Sex with Benny while he’s hurt to make him feel better •Benny pushing his limits during sex while while injured

Broken Promises

Benny drives his bike aimlessly, the roar of the engine and the rush of wind barely dulling the ache in his chest. There’s no plan, just the need to escape the storm of regret swirling inside him. He fucked up—like he always does. The thought gnaws at him, relentless and cruel. You’ll leave him, he’s sure of it, and he’ll be nothing more than a fleeting mistake in your otherwise perfect life.

He shakes the thought away, trying to convince himself that you love him, that you have to be completely in love with him. But deep down, he knows he’s messed up in the worst possible way.

He exposed you to the side of him that’s driven others away, and what’s worse is the realization that you deserve better—someone with a respectable life, someone who could offer you stability, not a rough-edged fucked up biker like him.

Benny’s mind races, but he doesn’t want to think anymore. He just wants to drink, to drown out the sorrows that threaten to swallow him whole. He’s been riding aimlessly for so long that he doesn’t even know where he is.

He finally pulls up to an unfamiliar bar and dismounts his bike, his legs heavy, the pain from the fight at the rally taking its toll.

He glances down at the bandage on his hand the pain of it dull compared to the hurt in his chest.

You would’ve taken him to the hospital gotten him fixed him up, cared for him tenderly. But he’s sure that’s over now. He looks at his wedding band, the images of you smiling radiantly in your wedding dress flash through his mind, the happiest day of his life. Tears almost well in his eyes but he blinks them back he doesn’t deserve you he knows it he has to let you go.

He slams the bar door open, the force of it matching the turmoil coursing inside him.

“Whiskey and a beer, and when I’m done, keep em coming,” he orders at the bartender, who nods silently.

Benny slumps down onto a stool, once settled, he quickly downs the whiskey, the burn in his throat a welcome distraction, and chases it with a cold beer that does little to quench the fire in his gut.

As the bartender goes to refill his drink, two men approach. The scent of sweat and stale beer hits Benny’s nose as one of them snarls, “Hey, shithead, you can’t wear that jacket in here.”

Benny barely glances at them, but the second man steps closer, his voice louder, more aggressive. “Hey, shithead, you hear my brother? You can’t wear that jacket.”

Benny’s eyes narrow as he looks at one, then the other. He’s itching for a fight, and if proving his loyalty to the club will numb the ache in his heart, he’s ready. Anything to take his mind off you. His blood pressure rises as he calmly sets his glass down. “You’d have to kill me to get this jacket off,” he says, his voice low and dangerous.

Without warning, Benny feels a sharp, heavy blow to his back, a cheap shot that knocks him forward, sending pain shooting through his spine as he sees the broken wood from the barstool that was used.

He stumbles from his seat with the breath forced from his lungs, kneeling on the floor. Before he can recover, another vicious kick slams into his stomach. The force of it bends him double, his insides twisting in agony.

“Fuck,” he gasps, trying to suck in air, but there’s no time. A third kick lands hard against his ribs, a sickening crack reverberating through his body. The pain is blinding, his vision blurring as he goes down, his cheek scraping against the grimy floor. The scent of sweat, beer, and blood fills his nostrils, mingling with the sharp, metallic taste in his mouth.

He tries to crawl, his blood soaked palm slipping against the wooden floor, but the two brothers aren’t done. Benny feels a brutal kick connect with his side, the impact sending him sprawling against the barstools. His body spasms as he spits up blood, the taste of copper thick on his tongue.

The bar is spinning around him, the dim lights flickering as his head throbs in time with his heartbeat. The next thing he knows, rough hands are gripping his jacket, lifting him only to be thrown toward the front door. He crashes to the pavement outside with a bone jarring thud, the breath knocked out of him again.

“He won’t stay down!” one shouts in disbelief. Before he can even think to defend himself, another boot kicks into his face. The pain is explosive, a white hot flash that leaves his vision swimming. He knows they’ll kill him if this keeps up, they’ve gone too far.

Benny’s pushes himself up, only to collapse again under the crushing weight of his injuries. Blood drips from his mouth as he struggles once more, his body trembling with the effort. This time he manages to get one knee under him.

“He’s getting back up!” one of them shouts in frustration as he looms over Benny.

“I’ll keep him down“ the other snarls off to get something to maim him with. The taste of blood is sharp on Bennys tongue, his vision wavering with the strain to stay conscious.

Desperation surges through him, adrenaline cutting through the haze of pain. Bennys hand scrambles to his boot, fingers wrapping around the handle of the knife hidden there.

With a wild burst of energy, Benny pushes himself to his feet and slashes out, the blade slicing across the man’s face in front of him. The man screams in agony, clutching at his bloodied cheek.

“Oh shit, Henry!” the other man yells, his eyes widening in horror at the sight of his brothers mangled face.

But that horror quickly twists into fury. His gaze locks onto Benny with murderous intent, and he grabs a nearby shovel, his knuckles whitening around the handle as he barrels forward.

Benny finally feels a surge of triumph grinning as the man wails in agony clutching his blood streaked face. The small victory doesn’t last long. The second man crashes something heavy against the back of his skull.

The impact rings through Bennys head, disorienting him, and he drops to his knees, the world spinning violently as he slips to the ground clutching his head wet with fresh blood. “This’ll keep him down!,” he hears the man sneer.

Before Benny can react, the spade of a shovel sharply snaps through his ankle, the bones crunching beneath the weight. The pain is excruciating, a bright, searing agony that radiates up his leg as he groans seething through gritted teeth. it’s the final blow for his battered body as he begins losing consciousness.

The last thing he feels is the cold, hard pavement beneath him and the taste of blood in his mouth with all the pain of his injuries. Just before the darkness claims him, fleeting thoughts of you cross his mind, your smile, your touch, your voice but it’s all too late. The world fades to black, and his tormenting pain finally recedes into nothingness.

Decisions

You burst through the hospital doors, heart pounding, breath coming in ragged gasps. Fear gnawing at your insides, pushing you forward. Your eyes dart frantically across the lobby until they land on a group of bikers huddled together, faces grim. Spotting Corky you rush over, your voice cracking as you blurt out, “Where’s Benny!?!”

Corky exchanges a glance with Wahoo, who sighs heavily. “They won’t let us in, only family,” Corky says reluctantly.

Without a second thought, you practically sprint to the front desk, the words spilling out in a frantic rush. “I’m Mrs. Cross—I’m here for my husband, Benny Cross!” you almost shout, your voice trembling and rising, barely holding back the storm of panic threatening to overwhelm you.

The receptionist behind the desk gives you a sympathetic nod and quickly checks you in.

Within minutes, a nurse leads you down a long, sterile hallway, the fluorescent lights flickering above as you pass. Your hands instinctively cling to your arms, as if trying to physically hold yourself together.

The dread sits like a heavy weight in your chest, tightening with each step, but there’s also a fragile hint of relief—Benny is stable, he’s alive.

When you finally reach Benny’s hospital room, the nurse pulls his clipboard from the wall and begins reading his list of injuries, her voice low and clinical.

“Mrs. Cross, when your husband was brought in, he was severely attacked. He suffered fractured ribs, a fractured orbital socket, internal bleeding, blunt force trauma to the head resulting in a concussion, and the most pressing of his injuries—a severed Achilles tendon with a broken talus bone in his right ankle due to blunt force trauma. The injury is so severe that the surgeons are discussing the possibility of amputation.”

Her words hit you like a sledgehammer. Your breath catches, and a sharp pain stabs through your chest as you clutch the wall for support. The hallway spins, nausea threatening to overwhelm you, but you force yourself to stay upright. You can’t afford to be weak, not now.

The nurse continues, her voice gentler as she sees the look of shock and devastation across your face, as you struggle to process the gravity of the situation.

“Your husband is on a heavy medication for the pain now and has been treated for his injuries. The surgeon will discuss the options with you both regarding how you would like to proceed with his amputation in the morning.”

You nod, barely registering her words, your focus solely on the door as she pushes it open for you. With a deep breath, you gather your strength and step inside.

The room is dimly lit, the only sounds the steady beeping of monitors and the soft hum of medial machinery. Your eyes fall on Benny, lying motionless in the hospital bed.

His once strong, commanding presence now looks so fragile, covered in bruises and bandages. His face, usually so ruggedly handsome, is almost unrecognizable swollen and discolored under his right eye. His right leg is encased in a heavy white cast, elevated slightly above the bed, and you can see the bulk of bandages peeking out from under the sheets.

He looks so vulnerable, so different from the man who always seemed indestructible. The sight of him like this breaks your heart all over again.

You approach him slowly, your footsteps silent on the cold, tiled floor. As you get closer, Benny stirs, his eyes fluttering open. When he sees you, a flicker of something crosses his face relief, happiness, maybe even disbelief. He weakly smiles, twisted by pain.

“Benny,” you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.

He shivers, his battered body tensing as he tries to shift, to reach for you. But the pain is too much, and he winces, his breath hitching in his throat. Seeing him like this, struggling even to move, brings tears to your eyes, but you push them back. He needs your strength now, not your tears.

Carefully, you search for a place to touch him, a spot not covered by bruises or bandages. Finally, you find a small patch of uninjured skin on his arm and gently place your hand there, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead.

“I’m here,” you whisper, your lips brushing against his skin.

He closes his eyes in relief as he exhales shuddering a breath. “I thought… I thought you wouldn’t come,” he rasps, his voice hoarse from pain and medication.

“Of course I came,” you reply, your voice heavy with emotion. “I’m here, Benny. I’m not going anywhere.”

Benny’s eyes open again, and he looks up at you with a mix of guilt and gratitude. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “I fucked up….I let you down …and I left you.” He chokes out.

You shake your head, blinking back tears. “No, Benny. You didn’t let me down. You’ve never let me down, and Im still right here for you.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, his eyes searching, desperate to believe your words. Then, slowly, he reaches up with his good hand, his fingers brushing against your cheek. You lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your own, and despite everything, it gives you comfort.

“I don’t deserve you,” he mutters, his eyes closing as exhaustion takes over.

“You deserve more than you think Benny,” you reply softly, your voice barely a whisper.

As the minutes pass, Benny drifts in and out of consciousness, the pain and medication pulling him under. You stay by his side, holding his hand, careful not to disturb the IV line or the bandages. You watch over him, your heart aching with love and worry.

Morning breaks with a muted glow through the hospital blinds, casting long shadows across the sterile room. You haven’t slept a wink, your eyes never leaving Benny as he lay beside you, his face pale and drawn with pain. You’ve spent the night doting on him and holding his hand, determined to be there for him, no matter what comes.

A gentle knock on the door draws your attention. You stiffen, knowing the doctor’s visit will bring the news he’s not ready to hear. Benny is sitting propped up with the help of pillows, his eyes closed as he rests against the headboard still groggy from the medication and pain. You squeeze his hand a little tighter to wake him as the doctor enters.

The doctor exchanges morning greetings as he walks over to Benny’s bedside, flipping through his medical chart in hand, his expression solemn. He takes a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before speaking in a low, steady voice.

“Mr. Cross, I’m afraid the injury to your ankle is extremely severe. The spade of a shovel penetrated deeply, causing extensive damage to your Achilles tendon and the surrounding soft tissue fracturing your tibia and breaking the talus bone. The prognosis for functional recovery is poor, walking without significant assistance or support will be highly unlikely. After assessing all available options, the only viable course of action is to proceed with a below knee amputation.”

The words hit Benny like a physical blow. You feel his entire body tense beside you. His eyes widen in shock, disbelief washing over his face.

The doctor continues, explaining the necessity, the risks, the slim chances of saving the foot, but Benny’s face is frozen in that same look of shock.

Bennys lips part slightly, as if trying to form words, but nothing comes out. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable and utterly devastated. This man, who has faced down danger more times than you can count, is now staring down a future he never imagined possible.

When the doctor finally finishes, he gives you both a moment, quietly excusing himself to let you process the news. The room falls into a heavy silence. You’re still holding Benny’s hand, but he’s not gripping back, his eyes distant, staring at a point far beyond the hospital walls.

You watch as the reality of what he just heard begins to sink in. His strong, handsome face starts to crumble. Tears well up in his eyes, and before you know it, they spill over, down his cheeks. The sight of Benny crying, breaks something inside you. He’s never cried, not in front of you, not ever and it’s as if the weight of the entire world has come crashing down on him in this single, moment.

He lowers his head, unable to look at you, his shoulders trembling as he begins to sob covering his face. Not just a tear or two, but deep, gut wrenching sobs that shake his entire body. You can’t bear it and move closer sitting beside him on the bed, wrapping your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you can.

You stroke his hair avoiding the bandage there and hold him close to your chest as his fingertips weakly cling to your dress.

Minutes pass before the sobs start to subside, leaving Benny breathless and shattered. His face is streaked with tears, his eyes red rimmed and haunted. Finally in a voice that’s barely a whisper,he looks you in the eyes as he pleads, “Please… don’t let them take my foot off”

You meet his gaze, your heart breaking all over again as you see the depth of despair in those blue eyes, the same eyes that have always been so strong. You gently caress his cheek, feeling the roughness of his stubble under your fingertips as he struggles to say more. Finally, he chokes out what he’s really been dreading, “If they take my foot off I can’t ride any more,” he shudders, his words heavy with sorrow and fear.

His confession surprises you, the full weight of his words sinking in you as you hold him close. Benny’s loyalty to the club runs so deep that the thought of losing his brotherhood is more terrifying to him than the loss of his own limb. Above all else, Benny is a Vandal, and without that, he fears he will lose himself entirely.

Burn it down

Word spreads like wildfire through town, whispers and rumors reaching every corner until they finally land at the Vandals’ clubhouse where everyone gathered after the rally. The air inside is thick with smoke and tension, the usual hum of conversation hushed as the members sense something brewing beneath the surface.

Cal is the first to get the call. The landline phone on the wall rings sharply, cutting through the heavy silence. He picks it up, his expression growing darker as Corky’s voice crackles through the receiver from the hospital. The news hits him like a punch to the gut. Benny had been jumped by members of a rival gang at a bar in Lakeside. The beating was so severe that they nearly severed his foot, leaving him in a hospital bed, fighting to keep his leg.

Cal’s hand tightens around the phone, his knuckles going white as he listens to the details. His eyes narrow, a dangerous glint flickering there as the full weight of the situation settles in. When the call ends, he slams the phone down, the sound echoing through the clubhouse, catching the attention of everyone around.

Without a word, Cal strides across the room to where Johnny is sitting, a cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. Cal leans in close, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge as he whispers the confirmation.

Johnny’s face hardens immediately, his eyes darken, with a burning rage that simmers just beneath the surface his jaw tightening as he absorbs the full weight of the news. In his chest, he knows he’ll never let this go. One of his own was hurt, and someone was going to pay dearly for it.

Without a second thought, Johnny gathers the Vandals. There’s no need for words they can see the fury in his eyes, the way his jaw clenches, the barely restrained violence in his every movement. They mount their bikes, the roar of engines filling the air as they ride with purpose, their destination clear.

The bar comes into view, a building that now holds the weight of their wrath. The Vandals pull up in front, engines roaring as they line the street, the deafening sound echoing through the air. The bikers stay mounted, revving their engines menacingly, a warning to anyone inside that trouble has arrived.

Johnny dismounts first, his eyes narrowing as he strides toward the entrance, Cal and Brusy flanking him like shadows. The door swings open, and the atmosphere inside shifts immediately. The tension thickens, the air heavy with the unspoken threat as the patrons turn to see who just walked in. Everyone can feel the danger that now hangs over the room, knowing that the men standing in the doorway have come for retribution.

Johnny’s gaze sweeps the room before locking onto the bartender. His glare is enough to freeze the man in place. “I don’t want any trouble here,” the bartender stammers, fully aware of the reason for this unexpected visit.

Johnny pauses, already knowing exactly how he wants to exact revenge for Benny, as he steps closer to the bartender.

“Young kid got beat up in here real bad,” Johnny begins, his voice low and menacing, carrying the unmistakable promise of violence.

“I need you to tell me who did it. Write the names down, tell me where they live, and I’ll let you leave.”

The bartender, eyes wide with fear, doesn’t hesitate. He grabs a piece of paper and a pencil with shaking hands, scribbling down the names as quickly as he can. The presence of Johnny and the Vandals is overwhelming. When he finishes, he hands the paper over, his hand trembling.

Johnny takes it, glances at the names, then hands the paper to Cal. “Send a few guys, make sure they don’t walk again,” Johnny orders, his voice cold and unforgiving.

Cal exits the bar on his mission of retribution for Benny and gives the signal for the Vandals to head inside.

As the Vandals enter the bar and surround Johnny, their sheer presence amplifies the already building tension in the establishment. Sensing whats next the patrons begin to flee.

Johnny lights a cigarette, the flame flickering as he inhales deeply, the smoke curling around him.

“You can leave,” Johnny says to the bartender, his voice calm but filled with menace.

Desperate to save his livelihood, the bartender asks, “What about my bar?”

Johnny doesn’t even glance at the bartender, his gaze distant as he exhales a cloud of smoke. “Burn it down,” he orders to the Vandals coldly, flicking the lit match onto the floor.

The bartender barely has time to react before the Vandals spring into action. They trash the bar with ruthless efficiency, smashing tables, shattering glasses, and ripping bottles from the shelves. Liquor spills everywhere, creating a flammable torrent that they quickly ignite, setting the entire place ablaze.

Johnny, Cal, and the others step outside, lining the street as the flames take hold. The fire spreads quickly, its flickering light painting the night sky in ominous shades of orange and red. The heat intensifies, and the sound of crackling wood and shattering glass fills the air as the bar is consumed by the roaring blaze.

Johnny stands at the front, his expression unreadable as he watches the building burn. The flames dancing in his eyes, reflecting the rage that still simmers within him.

To his left, he notices the fire department arriving, their lights flashing. To his right, the police pull up, their cars blocking off the street. Yet, both the fire department and the police take no action as the building is consumed by the fire ignited by the Vandals.

Brusy, standing beside Johnny, glances nervously between the two groups. “Why aren’t they doing anything?” he asks, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Johnny smirks, the corner of his mouth curling up as he watches the flames devour the building. He doesn’t take his eyes off the blaze as he replies, -“Because they’re scared.”

The fire rages on until the bar is reduced to nothing more than a pile of smoldering rubble. Johnny knows that the message has been sent. This is what happens when you mess with the Vandals. This is what happens when you hurt one of his own.

Long Road

When Benny is finally discharged from the hospital, he’s a shadow of the man you once knew. The powerful, confident presence he always carried has been stripped away, replaced by a hollow shell of uncertainty and pain.

His eyes, once so full of life and defiance, are now dim, the spark of confidence deadened by the trauma of his injuries. Benny struggles to navigate the world on crutches. His right leg remains, encased in a heavy cast with no promise that he’ll ever walk normally again. Each step up the stairs a painful reminder of how much life has changed for him.

You’ve already prepared the downstairs guest bedroom, anticipating that the stairs would be too much for him to handle. The room is decorated in deep, soothing shades of blue, with a large window offering a view of the garden.

All his clothing and medications are neatly arranged, and you’ve even brought a television into the space, knowing how much he loves to lose himself in movies and shows.

You wanted to create a space where Benny could feel comfortable, even if everything else in his life feels like it’s falling apart.

At first, Benny tries to hold onto some semblance of independence, but little by little, you watch as his dignity is stripped away. He can barely navigate the house without help, and you find yourself taking on the role of caregiver, administering his medications, changing his bandages, preparing his meals and changing the linens on his bed.

You help him every time he’s too weak to manage on his own, and each time you do, you see the shame flicker in his eyes.

When you dress him in the mornings he doesn’t even look you. With his body so tender and weak he does his best to pull his body through his clothing but always turns away in shame once you fully dress him, feeling unable to face you.

The hardest moments come when it’s time to bathe him. The once proud, strong man who could have easily overpowered you in the shower, now stands in silence, his foot propped on chair to keep his cast out. He watches you with a mixture of gratitude and deep, aching sadness as you carefully clean his body, avoiding the tender spots and bruises.

“You don’t have to do this,” Benny mutters one evening, his voice barely audible over the sound of the water. His head hangs low, his gaze fixed on the floor, avoiding your eyes.

“Benny, I want to,” you reply gently, wringing out a washcloth and carefully wiping down his arms. “You know I’m here for you, no matter what.”you warmly smile.

He swallows hard, his throat tight with emotion. “I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you,” he says, bitterness creeping into his voice. “Not like this… not like some goddamn invalid.”

You pause, your heart aching at the raw vulnerability in his words. “You’re still you, Benny,” you say softly, trying to meet his eyes. “This doesn’t change that. You’ll get through this, and I’ll be right here with you.”

He finally looks up at you, his eyes filled with a pain that’s deeper than any physical wound. “But what if I can’t?” he whispers, the fear and self-doubt he’s been hiding finally spilling out. “What if this is all that’s left of me?”

You reach out, taking his hand in yours, squeezing it gently. “We’ll face it together, Benny you’re not alone.”

Benny closes his eyes, his jaw clenched feeling his emotions they are inescapable. The strong, invincible man he used to be seems like a distant memory now, replaced by someone who’s been forced to confront his own fragility. And yet, even in his weakness, you see the man you fell in love with, the one who’s willing to fight, even if he doesn’t believe in himself anymore.

When the shower is over your dry his hair and body, wrapping the towel snugly around his waist. You help him out offering your hand as he struggles to step. The flickering memory of how powerful he used to be, how he used to pull you close, lifting you off your feet, flashes through your mind. Now, he’s unsteady, relying on your strength to make it back to bed.

“Thank you,” he murmurs as you guide him to the bed, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and sorrow.

You smile at him feeling a sense of comfort knowing how much he needs you. “I’m going to take good care of you Benny.” you promise him.

He doesn’t respond, just nods weakly, his head hanging low. You gently remove his towel and his hands rest on your shoulders for support as he carefully lifts his good leg stepping into his pajama pants. His other leg, encased in cast remains stationary. You kneel lower and guide the fabric over his foot, maneuvering it gently around the cast, ensuring not to jar it.

Benny bears most of his weight on his good leg, trying to keep his balance as you inch the pants up, past his thighs, and finally over his hips. His muscles tense with the effort, and you can see the strain in his expression as he tries to suppress the discomfort.

As you reach for his white tee, your eyes linger on the bruises expanding across his chiseled physique. The once smooth, unblemished skin is now a patchwork of deep purples, sickly yellows, and angry reds, the marks of his brutal attack etched deeply into his flesh. The bruises that spread across his ribs and abs are the darkest and most menacing you’ve ever seen.

You pull the shirt over his head, and as he lifts his arms, he winces, a sharp intake of breath escaping him. The severe pain is evident in his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability that he tries to hide, but it’s there, unmistakable.

The simple task of bathing and dressing is exhausting, and he lowers himself onto the bed ready to rest. You pull the covers over him, smoothing them down gently, and sit beside him, running your fingers through his hair.

“You’re still my Benny,” you whisper, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Nothing’s going to change that.”

For a moment, he closes his eyes, letting himself believe you, letting himself hope. But the road ahead is long, and you both know it.

Days turn into weeks and the independence Benny once cherished seems like a distant memory now replaced by the reality of his current limitations. But slowly, very slowly, there are small signs of progress.

As the bruises gradually fade, little by little he begins to regain strength in his movements. With each task he manages to do on his own, a flicker of determination returns to his eyes. The Benny you know is still there, fighting to reclaim his life, one small victory at a time.

One afternoon when he’s feeling able, you take him for a walk in the garden. The sun is warm on your skin, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves, and the scent of blooming flowers fills the air. You hold his arm, guiding him carefully with his crutch along the stone path. His steps are cautious, but he’s moving, and that alone fills you with hope.

As you walk, Benny’s eyes scan the garden and his gaze falls on a patch of overgrown weeds, beginning to overtake the roses. You can see the frustration flash in his eyes. In the past, he would’ve bent down and yanked those weeds out without a second thought, his strong hands making quick work of the task. But now, he just stands there, his hand tightening on your arm.

You see the pain in his expression, the way his jaw tightens, and you reach up to lovingly touch his face, whispering softly, “Soon enough, Benny.” You smile, trying to reassure him, but his gaze remains fixed on the task he can no longer fulfill.

You gently pull him close, resting your head against his chest, inhaling the familiar scent comforting and uniquely him.

You run your hand softly down his arm, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. For a brief moment, he looks down at you, his eyes meeting yours and catching the warmth in your gaze. But then he quickly looks away, his eyes growing distant again.

Your heart sinks, aching for the intimacy you’ve lost. You miss the way he used to hold you, the way his hands would roam your body, claiming you with a passion that left you breathless. Now, his touches are faint and suppressed as if that piece of him is missing.

Still, you cling to the small signs of his returning strength, feeling a thrill each time he manages something on his own. But the distance between you remains, a silent barrier that grows with each passing day.

At night, he sleeps with his back to you, the warmth of his body just out of reach, and you lie there, staring at the ceiling as you have for weeks, yearning for the connection you once had.

Your mind often drifts to those intimate moments in the dark, when his body would press against yours, his breath warm and reassuring against your neck. You remember the way his hands would roam over your skin, tracing every curve of your body seeking you out with a need that matched his own. His kiss, once so erotic and all consuming, would leave you breathless.

Even now, with him only inches away, lying with his back to you, those memories stir something deep within. Your breathing becomes unsteady, your heart racing as the desire forms, the familiar ache building with every thought of how he used to take you.

Without thinking, you suddenly reach out toward him, your hand hovering just above the space between you. The temptation to touch him is almost overwhelming. But then you notice the unevenness in his breathing, labored as he sleeps in pain.

You know all too well how damaged he is, barely able to move without wincing, and the thought makes you pause. The urge to touch him is strong, but the memory of his pain holds you back.

You remind yourself that he needs rest, not another reminder of what he can’t fully engage in right now. With a deep breath, you pull your hand back, feeling the ache of unfulfilled desire settle in your chest.

Whimpers

The next evening, as you prepare to bathe him, Benny catches your hand. “I can do it,” he insists, his voice firmer and there’s a look in his eyes that you haven’t seen in a long time. You hesitate, unsure whether to push back or let him try.

You nod slowly, watching as he stands inside the tub, his knee bent to keep his casted foot elevated on the chair placed just beside it. He’s determined to prove something, to you, and to himself. You know you should leave him to it, give him the privacy he needs, but something keeps you there, lingering just out of sight and you slowly realize you want to do more than just care for him.

Benny begins to wash himself, his movements slow and deliberate, the warm water cascading over his body, highlighting every ridge and curve of his muscular frame.

His broad shoulders, marked by dark bruises of purple and yellow, glisten under the light, the water tracing the powerful lines of his torso.

As he runs the cloth over his chest, the defined ridges of his abs become more pronounced, slick and firm beneath the sparse bruising.

His strong arms, glisten with water, his biceps and triceps flexing slightly as he carefully cleans around the tender areas. The water flows over his skin, accentuating every hard line of his muscles, making his body look both powerful and vulnerable in its raw strength and beauty.

Your breath catches as you watch him, a rush of arousal flooding through you making you quickly turn away, trying to suppress the heat rising within.

The memories of how powerful he used to be in bed flood your mind, the way he would take control, leaving you weak and trembling beneath him. The feel of his mouth on you, the way his hands would explore every inch of your body. You squeeze your knees together, your breaths coming faster unable to suppress your overwhelming arousal.

“Hey,” Benny’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn back to see him struggling to reach the towel. “Can you…?”

You’re at his side in an instant, handing him the towel. Once he’s dried off he wraps the towel around his waist and you help him to the sink.

He stands on his own, bearing more weight on his good leg while holding the counter’s edge. You watch as he brushes his teeth, the mundane task somehow taking on a new significance.

You join him, the two of you side by side, as you spit and rinse. He leans down to wash his face and you reach out, placing your hand soothingly on his back. You can feel the muscles flexing beneath his skin, still strong despite everything else, and you trail your fingers along his spine, lingering longer than you should.

When he dries his face and stands up, you both look at each other in the mirror. Benny’s hair is slicked back, still damp from the shower, and though his tan skin has paled from weeks spent indoors, he’s still so handsome that takes your breath away. The sharp lines of his face are softened by exhaustion, but there’s a ruggedness to him that you’ve always loved.

“You look very handsome, Benny,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turns to you, and you stare at each other in the intimate space. The words he wants to say make his breath catch in his chest as if the thought of speaking them aloud is too much to bear.

His eyes flicker with uncertainty as he reaches out, his hand trembling slightly. He places it gently on your chest, his thumb lightly tracing over your skin in with a reverent touch, and before you can reach out to touch him, he lowers his eyes and pulls his hand away, the moment slipping through your fingers like sand.

The brief contact leaves you aching for him, a deep all consuming longing settles in your chest. When Benny reaches out to you again, your heart flutters, hope surging through you. But his voice soft and filled with hesitation as he breaks the silence. “Can you help me to bed?”

For a moment, dismay flickers through you, quickly replaced by a wave of guilt as you hear the tenderness in his request.

You push your physical thoughts of desire aside understanding how wounded he is and gently take his arm, guiding him with care toward the bed.

His weight bears heavily on you, the strain in his muscles evident as he struggles to maintain his balance.

He places one hand on the nightstand for balance as you hand him his soft pajama pants and a thin white undershirt. You watch for a moment as he pulls them on with slow, deliberate movements. A small smile tugs at your lips, seeing that he doesn’t need your help this time. Satisfied, you turn and head to the dresser, quickly slipping into your silk nightie.

You return to his side, carefully picking up each vial of his medications from the nightstand and dispensing the correct dosages into your palm.

Once he’s dressed, you bring him a glass of water, holding it steady as he takes his pills. You watch him swallow them down, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drains the glass. There’s a quiet intimacy in the moment, a routine you’ve fallen into, yet an aching distance lingers between you, a gap you can’t quite bridge.

Once he’s finally settled on his side with the covers pulled up to his waist, you climb into bed beside him, reaching over to click off the light.

As you’ve done all month, you lie back, staring at the ceiling. The guest bedroom is directly next to the garden, so you can watch the shadows of the trees sway above you. Their branches move gently in the night breeze, creating a dance of light and darkness across the ceiling.

The room is filled with the soft swaying of leaves outside, a sound that usually calms you, but tonight it only amplifies your desire for Benny.

You glance over at him, his back turned to you, his body tense even in the darkness. Your heart aches as you reach out, and this time your hand hesitantly touches his shoulder. His skin is warm beneath your fingers tips, his muscles tight and tense.

He doesn’t turn to face you, but his voice breaks the silence, low and heavy with an emotion you can’t quite recognize. “I don’t want to be like this anymore,” he whispers, his words so soft they almost disappear into the air.

You keep your hand on his shoulder, feeling the conflict within him, the war between his pride and his vulnerability. You know what you’re about to do is impulsive, but you can’t stop yourself. The need to reconnect with him, to feel that intimacy again, the thought is overwhelming. Slowly, you slide closer, turning and wrapping your arms around him from behind.

You press a soft kiss to Bennys neck and his body tenses at your touch, his breath catching in his throat. “…Baby...” Benny whispers, his voice shaky, filled with uncertainty and apprehension.

“Shh,” you whisper softly, pressing your lips to the back of his neck again feeling the slight tremor that runs through him “Let me take care of you Benny.”

Your hand moves down, sliding beneath his waistband, your fingers brushing against his warm skin as you reach between his legs. You find his thick shaft, soft and unresponsive gently curling your hand around it. As you begin to stroke him softly, his hand suddenly rests on top of yours, stopping you.

“I can’t..” he whispers, his voice breaking, the words filled with so much pain and defeat that it tears at your heart. You can almost hear his pride shatter, the sound of it reverberating in the stillness of the room.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper softly feeling the depth of his anguish. You withdraw your hand, placing it instead on his back, rubbing soothing circles over his tight muscles, trying to comfort him the only way you can. “It’s alright, Benny. We don’t have to do anything. I’m here for you, no matter what.” You say reassuringly.

Benny doesn’t respond, but you can feel how he shakes slightly with each breath. The vulnerability he’s showing is both heartbreaking and precious, a side of him he’s never allowed anyone else to see.

You continue to rub his back, your touch gentle and soothing gradually feeling the tension in his muscles begin to ease under your hand as his breathing starts to slow.

The warmth of his skin under your fingertips and the scent of him so close stir something deep within you, the familiar ache forming involuntarily between your legs.

You quickly lay back, squeezing your thighs together, a soft sigh escaping your lips trying to calm yourself. But in the heat of the moment, driven by impulse, your fingers slip over the silk of your nightie and reach into the lace of your panties.

You find your aching clit, swollen and sensitive, and begin to circle it with a feather light touch. Each gentle stroke sends waves of pleasure through you, blending with the soothing caress of Benny’s back.

Your breaths grow rapid, heart pounding as you chase the edge of release, your fingers dancing over your sensitive skin. The weight of your emotional turmoil heightening your desire, leaving you craving the sweet relief of climax.

You keep your movements soft and quiet, not wanting to disturb Benny but the need is all consuming.

Benny shifts slightly, and at first, he seems oblivious, lost in his own pain. But then, you feel him turn over, his eyes locking with yours as he notices the subtle movements beneath the sheet.

Your hand slows to a stop feeling the uncertainty creeping in. For a moment, the room falls into a hush, the tension undeniable as you take a breath. His gaze lingers, full of curiosity and something deeper, as he takes in the sight of your flushed cheeks and the delicate rise and fall of your chest.

Without a word, Benny slowly pulls the sheets down, exposing your body to the cool night air. His gaze dark and intense as his eyes fixate on your hand nestled between your legs.

He looks back into your eyes searching and understanding what you need. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he reaches out, his hand hovering just above yours for a moment, the anticipation building between you.

Then, with a delicate touch, he guides his hand gently slipping it over yours within your lace panties.

The warmth of his touch sends a wave of arousal through you and your heart skips a beat as his fingers press lightly against yours, guiding your movements and urging you to continue.

You feel a sense of surprise and relief as his hand squeezes yours, intensifying the pressure on your clit.The room fills with the soft, slick sounds of your wetness, his fingers moving seamlessly over yours feeling the rhythmic thrust of your fingers into yourself as your arousal spreads across your inner thighs.

Your heart races, and your breath hitches as he begins to guide your hand faster, pressing your palm against your swollen clit harder. Soft moans begin to escapes your lips and the sound ignites something deep within Benny.

With a steady hand, he gently removes your fingers, and replaces them with his own. His fingers glide up and down your soaked folds until they are slick with wetness then he slowly eases them deep inside of you.

A desperate moan falls from your lips being deprived of his touch for so long, the feeling of his fingers is profound as they fill you with a satisfying depth that makes your breath catch.

Your wetness coats his thrusting fingers as he moves them expertly within you , his touch is steady despite his injuries and the sound of your slickness fills the room, mixing with your pleasurable soft moans.

Benny is fully focused on you and slowly moves closer pressing his body against yours. You can feel the heat radiating from him, intensifying the connection between you even more.

His fingers glide in and out of you with deliberate firm strokes, expertly teasing, and coaxing you toward release. Your core throbs with need, tightening with each pass of his fingers, until you’re overwhelmed by the way he knows exactly how to bring you to the brink.

You moan loudly feeling your body quivering as the pressure builds inside you and Benny moves his fingers faster.

He is focused entirely on you and the way your body responds to him, driving him to push you even further, making you feel everything you’ve been missing.

He presses his thumb to your aching clit and circles it with relentless precision building the pleasure so high it’s almost unbearable.

Your legs tremble as your hands clutch the sheets, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you endure the overwhelming sensation. The pressure inside of you coils tighter and tighter, until you’re at the brink of inevitable release.

“..Come for me baby ” Benny finally says having a surge of confidence knowing he’ll be able to satisfy you. “Show me how much you need me” he says craving your pleasure to rebuild his own.

And with a final, expert thrust of his fingers, you shatter. Your climax hits you like a tidal wave, crashing through you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. Your body convulses, your core tightening around his fingers as you cry out, the sound echoing through the room.

You pant heavily, your chest heaving as you come down from the high, your body trembling with aftershocks. The release is so powerful, you feel lightheaded, your mind spinning from the intense pleasure.

Benny withdraws his fingers slowly, his touch gentle as he pulls them from your throbbing core and he looks at you, his eyes dark with a desire you haven’t seen in a long time.

For a moment neither of you move, the silence only being broken by the sound of your labored breaths.

Benny’s eyes lock onto yours, a silent plea lingering in their depths as he glances down at your lips. The intimacy undeniably as he leans in, closing the distance with a slow, deliberate kiss.

His lips are warm and soft against yours, moving hesitantly at first, almost cautiously, as if he’s rediscovering something precious. His kiss deepens, and you feel his tongue slide gently into your mouth, coaxing a moan from you as explores with a slow, deliberate rhythm making your heart race.

The taste of him, and the way his lips and tongue move against yours, send sparks of pleasure racing down your spine.

Your hands finally reach him, roaming over his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his skin and you find yourself wanting to give him back the pleasure he’s just given you.

Your hand moves lower, slipping beneath his waistband, seeking out his cock. Your touch is gentle at first, your fingers wrapping around his thick shaft with a tender reverence. He’s only slightly hard, a stark contrast to how he used to be fully erect at the mere sight of you.

You can feel the hesitation in his body, the way he tenses, the lingering effects of pain and doubt clouding his response. You stroke him softly, trying to coax him to full arousal, but his cock remains the same, the weight of his injury hanging over him, holding him back.

Benny breaks the kiss, his eyes searching yours, trying to find the right words, the right way to explain why he’s not quite ready. You meet his gaze, your voice soft and filled with understanding, “Teach me how to please you with my mouth, Benny,” you say with a blend of tenderness and desire.

His eyes darken with a mix of conflict and lust. For a moment, he hesitates, then slowly nods, the need in him beginning to overpower his reservations. “Yeah,” he says, his voice hoarse. “I’ll show you.”

Benny sits up, easing himself back to rest against the headboard. You gently slide your fingers to the hem of his undershirt, slowly lifting it over his head. As you pull the shirt off, your eyes trace the contours of his muscled body, each bruise telling a story of his pain, but also stirring something deeper inside you, a desire to make him feel good again.

The sight of him, strong yet vulnerable ignites a longing in your core. You place a pillow behind his back and with gentle hands, you begin to remove his pajama pants, easing them over his cast. Once fully naked Benny spreads his legs apart, making room for you as you settle between his thighs.

His body tenses with anticipation as you take in the sight of his cock, long and thick, though not yet fully hard, resting with an impressive weight between his legs. When you look up at him, there’s a mix of vulnerability and desire in his eyes, a silent plea for what’s to come.

You start slowly, kissing the sensitive skin along his inner thighs, feeling the slight tremor in his muscles as he reacts to your touch. Your lips trail closer to his cock, building the anticipation.

Benny watches you intently, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as you finally kiss the head of his cock. Your warm tongue swirling around the tip, teasing him as you glance up at him through your lashes, silently asking him to guide you.

“That… feels good” he praises, his voice low and breathy. “Keep going…” he urges, his eyes filled with a raw intensity experiencing pleasure for the first time in what feels like forever.

You take his cock into your mouth feeling him harden against your tongue. His hips twitch involuntarily as you create a delicious suction, making him groan. You swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting a hint of saltiness that quickly dissipates, and he groans again, louder this time, the sound desperate and raw making your core throb with need.

“That’s it…” Benny mutters, his voice filled with satisfaction as his hand rests gently on your head lacing his fingers gently through your hair.

He lifts his hips slightly, wanting to push himself deeper into your mouth and you can feel the power shifting within him, his desire overtaking his initial hesitation.

“Take it …deeper” he urges, his hand tightening in your hair, guiding you as his cock fills your mouth completely causing an ache in your jaw.

You continue to glide your mouth along his heavy cock and it throbs against your tongue, growing harder with every suck.

“K-keep going, baby…” he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper, his need evident in every word as he savors the way you suck him off.

His tip brushes the back of your throat, and you slightly gag, the sensation causing your throat to tighten around him. The feel of it draws a deep groan from him, the pleasure undeniable.

Staring down at you, his eyes darken with lust as you try to take more of his cock and he groans in pleasure, savoring every gag of your inexperience as you keep going.

His grip on your hair tightens his breathes sharp as he begins to guide your head up and down on his throbbing cock.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you struggle to keep up, driven by the need to satisfy him, to give him everything he’s silently demanding.

His cock swells even harder and the pressure becomes too much, making it difficult for you to go on. A desperate whimper escapes your throat that vibrates his shaft and he groans in pleasure watching your body begin trembling with every effort.

His grip on your hair tightens as he fights the urge to take more from you realizing you’re giving him everything, pushing yourself to your limits and it makes his cock throb with an almost painful intensity.

His eyes go dark with a deep, simmering arousal craving more than just the pleasure of your mouth.

The thought of claiming you, of burying himself deep within you, overtakes him, and with a sudden, urgent need, he pulls your mouth all the way off his cock.

“I want all of you,” he confesses, his voice weaker and filled with urgency. You’re so desperate to feel him inside of you after pleasing his cock , that you don’t hesitate for a second.

His breath catches in his throat as you eagerly climb from between his legs, your excitement and longing undeniable as you straddle his lap feeling how wet you are as you position yourself on him.

He winces from the sudden movements and you see the pain you’ve caused, but your desire for him overtakes everything as you capture his mouth in a heated kiss.

He whimpers against your lips as your fingertips glide down his ribs over his bruises.

His body weakened from the beating he endured, makes every movement take more effort than usual, but having you like this, so eager and willing, makes him feel something special something powerful despite his condition.

It’s more than just desire, it’s the realization that even in his vulnerable state, you still want him, you still crave to have him.

You begin slowly grinding against his hardened cock, feeling the friction through the thin fabric of your panties and it makes Benny moan in your mouth.

He tries to continue kissing your lips, but the sensation of you moving on top of him is almost too much to bear and his body trembles slightly beneath you.

His hands slide up your sides, creeping under your nightie. He breaks the kiss just long enough to pull the nightie over your head, tossing it aside with a flick of his wrist. His eyes darken with lust as he takes in the sight of your breasts cupping each one with a tender squeeze. His fingers linger on your skin before they trail down, finding the waistband of your panties

Without a second thought, he digs his fingers into the lace and rips them apart. The sound of the fabric tearing makes you gasp, his lust for you intensified by his unrestrained need to take you.

He pulls you back into a searing kiss, wincing briefly as his battered ribs protest, but he doesn’t let it stop him. The intimacy between you is intense with the blend of vulnerability and raw desire making every touch, every kiss, feel profound and deeply intimate.

You break the kiss and rise slightly, allowing his hard cock to spring free and you both look down to watch it sway. Now painfully hard and thick it stands proudly. His shaft taunt and veiny, throbbing with need his tip red and swollen with arousal.

He shudders suddenly feeling his blood coursing so quickly, his breaths heavier, each one a mix of anticipation and the lingering pain from his injuries.

“I don’t want to hurt you Benny,” you say softly, your heart pounding with a mix of longing and regret.

You can hear his uneven breaths as his chest rises and falls, fighting to push past the discomfort. The strain in his eyes is evident, one still darkened by a bruise, revealing the toll his injuries are taking on him.

You reach up gently and lightly rub your thumb over the bruise, your touch tender as you try to soothe him, offering a silent comfort in the midst of his struggle.

“You won’t hurt me, baby,” he promises, and there’s a determination in his blue eyes that tells you he’s not backing down. He wants this as much as you do.

“Alright, Benny,” you whisper, surrendering to the pull of your desire. You cup his jaw, your touch gentle but filled with an urgent need as you bring your lips to his. The kiss is both tender and consuming, and you can feel the heavy breaths of exertion spilling into your mouth as his hands slide up to your waist.

Despite the pain radiating through his body, Benny’s resolve doesn’t waver. He’s determined to fulfill both your needs, to reclaim what you’ve both been missing.

His hands slide down your hips grasping firm, as he slowly begins guiding you down onto him.

His cock presses against your entrance and the resistance is immediate, your body sealed tight without him for so long. You can feel his breath hitch as he tries again, this time with force. His hands shake on your waist as he pushes into you with raw determination.

A shared moan tears from both of you, the sound raw, and desperate, as his cock finally penetrates, solid and unyielding, your walls gripping him with an unforgiving tightness.

You bury your face into his neck, moaning as his grip on you tightens, his hands steadying you as he pushes deeper, breaking himself into you, inch by inch.

“It’s alright, baby,” he breathes, his voice strained but reassuring, each exhale warm against your skin. His body trembles beneath you, his muscles tensing as he fights through the pain, but he refuses to stop. There’s something driving him, a need to claim you, to bury himself inside you until the pain is a distant memory.

You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pushes deeper. A loud moan spills from your lips as he finally fills you completely, holding you firmly in his lap, his control relenting as he waits, letting the initial discomfort melt into a wave of intense pleasure. You can feel him throbbing inside of you, every pulse sending jolts of sensation through your core

“I missed you baby,” Benny confesses, resting his forehead against yours, his breaths ragged and uneven as he feels your walls pleasurably tighten around his cock.

“I missed you too, Benny,” you pant, your lips brushing soft kisses against his, enduring the throbbing ache and the intense fullness of having him deep inside you again.

His hands move down to your hips, his grip firm and steady as he guides you in a slow, deliberate rhythm pulling you against him pressing you deeper into his lap as he curses under his breath.

“Fuck ….you feel good,” he whispers, his words heavy with raw desire as his blue eyes meet yours, filled with a vulnerability and intense yearning.

You bring your hands to his jaw, cradling his face as you kiss him softly. Your lips brushing over his filled with longing and he guides your hips to roll down in his lap harder, making you take every inch of his cock deeper.

You both moan into each others mouths feeling the waves of ecstasy surge through your core and Benny feels every inch of him consumed by the overwhelming pleasure of gliding tightly inside your walls again.

His moans turn into soft whimpers as you increase the pace, riding him harder clinging to the back of his neck. You pull him closer, using him for leverage as you glide down faster and harder on his cock.

The sharp sting of his injuries and the soreness of his bruises intensify each time you settle on him, but he holds on to the overwhelming pleasure wanting more despite the pain.

His breaths come in short, shallow gasps as he looks at you with a mix of desire and vulnerability in his eyes, his body protesting, strained from each painful effort.

“Don’t stop,” he pants, his voice weak, almost pleading, as his hips push up against you, his body chasing the pleasure you’re giving him. His cock is rock hard and throbbing with need as he grabs your hips, pulling you deeper into his lap, making you take him fully.

“Yes, Benny!” you cry out, your body arching into him as he guides you to ride him harder, his hands gripping your hips almost painfully, driving his cock deeper, claiming you completely.

The sound of his light breathy and whimpers resonate within you, sending a thrill through your entire body as you watch him trying not to lose himself.

You lean in kissing him deeply and his whimpers are muffled against your mouth as you feel the pleasure of his thick cock gliding in and out of your walls.

His grasp tightens on your hips his fingers digging in desperately, determined to stay with you despite the pain, his need for you overriding everything else.

You grind down on him with force, feeling his cock push deeper inside you and a loud, desperate moan tears from his throat

His heart pounds wildly as he struggles to hold on, the pleasure of being inside you driving him to the very edge.

Every thrust, every touch, every gasp shared between you feels like a reclaiming of something lost. You feel the press of his chest against yours, the frantic beat of his heart, and the desperate way his hands grasp your body.

“I-I’m close… n-need to come…,” he pants, his voice trembling, each word filled with the sound of his struggle to hold on just a little longer.

You hold him closer, your breath warm and seductive against his ear. “Come for me Benny,” you whisper pressing your body closer, moving in perfect rhythm with him, intensifying his pleasure and urging him toward release.

His touch lightens momentarily, his hands guiding your movements to ride him slower, the weakness in his body clashing with the desire raging inside him.

But then, with a deep, guttural groan, he tightens his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he fights to reclaim control.

“I wanna… feel you come for me,” he breathes, his voice rough with determination. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he places one hand on the bed for stability. He bends his un-injured leg for support and thrusts his cock into you such precision it sends shockwaves of pleasure surging through your core.

“Benny oh god!” you scream in pleasure your walls clenching with every thrust of his cock, driving him to push you further.

“Fuck!” he cries out, his hands gripping you tighter as he drives his cock even harder, reclaiming a depth that makes your eyes roll back in pleasure. “That’s it…” he says through gritted teeth, his breath ragged. “Take it all,” he says with effort, his voice thick with intensity.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as you moan loudly against him, pulling him closer as he fills you over and over again with a depth that has you seeing stars. His breaths are shallow and ragged against your neck filled with every effort it takes for him to keep going.

His eyes remain locked on you, watching every flicker of pleasure that crosses your face, his own need to see you unravel consuming him, pushing him to hold on just a little longer, to push you over the edge.

You can hear the change in him, the way his voice catches with every thrust, his moans breaking into breathless pants. The deep, primal groans and the whimpers of pleasure that slip out when he can’t hold back.

“Let me feel it,” he pleads, his voice strained, his blue eyes locked on yours with a desperate intensity. “I need to feel you come.” He breathes, the need in his eyes is unmistakable he’s silently begging to be taken with you.

Your pleasure builds to a peak, and with one final thrust, he hits that perfect spot deep inside of you, sending you spiraling into an intense orgasm.

Your body tenses, your nails digging into his shoulders. You cry out his name, your muscles clenching rhythmically around his cock.

Benny can feel every pulse and shudder of your release, and his groans become louder, more uncontrolled against you, the pain that once held him back replaced by the overwhelming sensation of pleasure.

His cock throbs inside your walls, and you can feel his entire body tensing, every muscle coiled tight as he nears his release.

With a final, broken moan, Benny gasps, “I’m gonna—” his words are cut off by a strangled moan as his orgasm crashes over him. His hips jerk violently against you and he releases, his cock pulsing as he spills into you.

You moan loudly, feeling the warm rush of his cum flood your walls and his body trembles with the intensity of his climax, every ounce of pain gone, replaced by the addictive high of pleasure.

His breaths come out hot and ragged against your neck, each exhale trembling with the remnants of his pleasure. He buries his face there, nuzzling against your skin as he softly pants and whimpers next to your ear.

You stay there, still connected, as the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through your bodies, entwined in a profound connection of intimacy. Every exhale of his breath against your skin a testament to his determination, a silent promise that he gave you everything he had left.

You gently trail your fingertips along his shoulders, feeling the tension slowly melt away as he rests into you, his body still trembling slightly from the exertion.

As he holds you in his lap, you can feel the rapid, wild beating of his heart against yours, his sharp breaths the only sound in the quiet room, echoing softly against your neck.

“I love you so much Benny,” you whisper, your voice tender and filled with emotion as you feel him relax even more, his grip on you softening as he sinks deeper into the comfort of your embrace.

“I love you too, baby,” he murmurs softly against your skin, his voice warm and affectionate, his breaths weak uneven. With a gentle exhale against your skin he places a soft, lingering kiss on your shoulder.

His body rests heavily against yours as his breaths become softer and the weight of him begins pressing down on you as he struggles to stay awake.

“Benny, you need to rest,” you whisper gently, trying to rouse him from exhaustion.

“Alright,” he relents and his voice barely audible as every muscle in his body seems to weaken, the weight of fatigue pressing down on him.

Carefully you sit up, feeling the lingering warmth of his embrace as you place your hands gently over his chest. You slowly lift your hips up sliding his large cock from deep within your walls, hearing a faint slick sound as the tip finally slips out making both of you moan softly from loss of contact.

He gazes up at you affectionately, and you notice a look of deep satisfaction in his eyes one you haven’t seen in a long time.

“You feel good, Benny?” you ask with an affectionate smile. His blue eyes are dark, pupils blown wide as he looks up at you, his full lips parting as he pants for breath.

“Yeah” he breathes with a smile. You grin gently threading your fingers through his hair cradling the back of his head in your hands. You lean in and place a kiss on his forehead filled with pride and deep satisfaction.

The warmth of your touch and the gentle press of your lips make his eyes flutter closed as a soft sigh escapes his lips relaxing completely.

His arms hold you close as he presses his face against your chest, savoring the safety and comfort you bring him. The connection between you feels deeper than ever, a silent understanding that speaks volumes of your love for each other.

As Benny slowly releases you from his embrace, his arms tremble slightly with exhaustion. He shifts his body lower, his movements slow and unsteady as he places his palms on the bed for support.

You give him space as he lowers himself down, the effort leaving him almost too weak to move as he settles on the bed next to you.

With his final moments of strength, Benny pulls you into his strong arms, wrapping them around you in a protective embrace. You can feel the strain on his muscles, the way they tremble slightly, as if he’s trying to convey everything he feels through the simple act of holding you close.

His chest still rises and falls with soft breaths, a reminder of how much he’s given, how deeply he’s pushed past his own limits just to be with you.

“It’s okay, Benny,” you whisper softly, your thumb tracing comforting patterns along his cheek. “Just rest now… I’m not going anywhere.” You say softly, hoping to soothe the lingering tension in his body.

A soft sigh escapes his lips as he relaxes against you, his body slowly giving in to the exhaustion. His eyes flutter closed as sleep finally overtakes him. His grip on you loosens but his hands still hold you close, even in sleep.

The tension and pain that had been etched on his face gradually turn into peaceful serenity, and the faintest hint of a smile forms on his lips, a quiet sign that tonight a part of Benny has been reclaimed.

His Resolve

You and Benny are fully aware of Johnny’s fiery retribution with the Vandals after the injuries Benny sustained, it was impossible to miss.

The news had been plastered all over the papers and television, detailing how the Lakeside bar had been burned to the ground while Benny recovered in the hospital.

As Benny lay in bed, fresh out of surgery, it was the first time you heard him laugh since his injuries. The sound was weak and raspy, filled with a mix of satisfaction and respect for what his brotherhood had done on his behalf. It was a glimpse of the old Benny shining through.

Now, with Benny slowly regaining his strength over the past few weeks, it’s no surprise when you hear the faint rumble of a motorcycle in the distance as you wash the dishes.

You quickly go to collect Benny’s plate from lunch in the living room. He’s resting back on the couch, his leg propped up comfortably on an ottoman as he watches I Dream of Jeanie.

As you reach for his empty plate, you pause to observe him. The moment Benny hears the familiar rumble of a motorcycle approaching the house, he sits up, his eyes lighting up with unmistakable excitement.

“That has to be Johnny,” Benny says, a grin spreading across his face. You manage a weak smile, but inside, you can’t shake the resentment that’s formed, knowing Benny’s injuries were caused because he was beaten for wearing his colors.

Benny quickly tries to get up, grabbing the couch for support, but he struggles to gain his footing, his heart racing with too much excitement. In his haste, he knocks his crutch to the floor, reaching for it in futility, unable to pick it up.

“Benny, sit,” you say warmly, guiding him back down onto the couch. “I’ll bring him here. You’ll have plenty of time to run around once you’re fully healed,” you add, placing his crutch to rest on the arm of the couch.

“Alright, baby,” he says, and you look into his eager blue eyes as he tries to contain his excitement.

You reach the front door just as Johnny knocks. He grins as soon as he sees you. “Hey, sweetheart,” he greets, his voice carrying that familiar teasing tone. “Where’s the crippled old man?” he adds playfully.

“He’s in the living room,” you gesture with a warm smile. Johnny follows you inside, his boots echoing softly against the floor as he makes his way down the hall.

As you both enter the living room, Benny is relaxed with his arms spread across the back of the couch, practically vibrating with excitement. He’s trying to play it cool, but you can see how much he’s been looking forward to this moment.

“Look at you, all propped up like the queen,” Johnny teases, his eyes flicking to Benny’s casted foot resting on the ottoman.

“Who you calling Queen?” Benny shoots back, grinning broadly, his tone playful but carrying a hint of the old fire that’s been missing.

Johnny grins as he plops down next to Benny, pulling out a carton of cigarettes. He hands one to Benny and places another between his own lips. With a flick of his lighter, they’re both soon smoking together, the air quickly filling with the familiar haze.

“You look good, Benny. You look alright,” Johnny compliments, but then he notices you still standing in the entryway.

“Oh, you mind if we smoke in here, seeing as Benny’s all fucked up?” he asks, glancing at you.

“That’s fine, Johnny,” you reply, feeling a bit out of place. You walk over to the television and turn the volume down, trying to make yourself useful.

Johnny quickly turns his attention back to Benny. “The guys thought you might be really out of it,” he says, nodding toward Benny’s cast.

“He is out of it. He can’t walk, Johnny,” you interject, crossing your arms.

“What did the surgeon say?” Johnny asks, completely ignoring your comment.

Benny takes a drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling up as he exhales. “They cut through a tendon,” he says, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.

“Jesus,” Johnny exclaims. “They tie it back together or what?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Benny replies, exhaling a stream of smoke.

The tension of feeling unwanted in the room makes you uncomfortable, especially as you see them both deep in conversation. With Benny clearly not needing you for anything you quickly excuse yourself, heading to the kitchen to make them drinks and give them space to talk.

The banter between Benny and Johnny flows easily and naturally, you hear Benny laugh loudly several times the sound echoing through the house as he has a fit.

You smile hearing him so happy and then feel a bitterness rising that you’ve never made him laugh that way.

The thought gnaws at you, and before you realize it, you’re squeezing the lemons more aggressively, the juice splattering as you make the lemonade.

When you enter the living room with the two glasses, the air is now thick with smoke. Johnny and Benny are just finishing their conversation as you hand Benny his fresh lemonade.

“We’d sure love to see you out there. It’s gonna be a big one, maybe the biggest one yet!” Johnny says enthusiastically.

“Biggest what?” you ask, curious, as you offer the other glass of lemonade to Johnny.

“I’m good, thanks,” he says, waving it off, still engrossed in their discussion.

“It’s a picnic,” Benny explains to you. “Johnny says they’re going all out for the Daytona one,” he continues, before turning to Johnny. “How long is that, eight weeks away?”

“Yeah,” Johnny confirms.

“I mean, I’ll still be in a cast by then, but—”

“A cast?!” Johnny interrupts. “Nah, nah, you can shift with your left foot. You can always use your front brake if ya can’t put no pressure on it,” he says, gesturing to Benny’s cast.

Benny thinks it over as he takes a drag from his cigarette and Johnny seeing his hesitation uses the brotherhood to lure his decision.

“You know the guys..the guys would love to see ya out there. They’re all really worried about you.”he says earnestly

Feeling irritated by the smoke and being ignored, you place Johnny’s untouched lemonade down on the mantle harder than you intended, the glass clinking sharply.

You walk to the window, sliding it up forcefully and hitting it into place with several loud whacks as the fresh air immediately rushes in.

Hearing their conversation halt mid-sentence, you turn to see both Johnny and Benny looking at you with their brows raised in concern.

The weight of their gaze makes you feel exposed, as if they’ve noticed the frustration you’ve been trying to hide all along.

Benny then turn to Johnny and makes his decision without you. “I’ll be there,” he says with certainty, his tone final.

“Alright” Johnny says with a wide grins clearly pleased with Bennys decision. “ I’ll get out of here,” Johnny says as he gets up. “You rest,” he adds, pointing at the cast. Benny smirk as he takes another long drag from cigarette.

Johnny gives you a brief nod, “sweetheart” he says his eyes barely meeting yours before he turns and heads for the door. He leaves without another word, his abruptness toward you making you feel slighted.

The front door slams shut, the sound grating on your nerves, amplifying the irritation that’s already boiling inside of you.

You stand there for a moment, piecing together the conversation and the choice Benny made without consulting you. The tension in the room thickens, your earlier discomfort now edged with frustration.

You walk closer to Benny, crossing your arms as you look over him relaxed against the couch smoking his cigarette with a careless ease.

“You wouldn’t really ride your motorcycle injured with a cast would Benny?” you ask, concern lacing your voice.

“I dunno,” he replies, waving his cigarette hand through the air dismissively. “Turn up the TV, would you?” He says in irritation hating that his injury prevents him from doing the simplest things himself.

But you stand firm, unmoving. “I don’t want you riding, Benny,” you say sternly.

He slowly glances over at you, raising an eyebrow at your firmness.

“Yeah, it scares me especially this soon after surgery. I don’t like it,” you continue, doubling down on your resolve.

Benny’s eyes narrow, his head tilting slightly. “You don’t like it?” he repeats, his voice carrying an edge as he squints at you.

“I get worried!” you say louder, the thought of him permanently injuring himself just to prove something to Johnny and the Vandals making your heart pound with anxiety.

The silence that follows your words is heavy with tension, and you can feel the growing distance between you and Benny with each passing second.

Benny takes a long drag from his cigarette, staring off into the distance, lost in thought as he weighs his options. His jaw tightening as you watch the internal struggle playing out in his mind.

“I should just go,” he finally says, exhaling a slow stream of smoke, his voice steady tinged with an underlying sadness.

His eyes flicker with a cold, distant determination, as he nods slightly. “I should just leave,” he repeats, the words heavy with finality.

His words hang in the air, and you feel your heart drop, the realization hitting you hard that he’s considering genuinely leaving again.

“What?” you respond, your voice rising in pitch as your resolve begins to soften.

He nods his head, a look of realization crossing his face as he stares off blankly into the distance.

“It’s better this way. You’d be better off,” he finally says, his voice low and steady. He raises the cigarette to his lips with a deliberate slowness, taking a long, drawn out drag, the smoke lingering as he exhales, solidifying the weight of his words.

“Stop it! Stop it!” you cry out, your voice trembling with desperation as the fear creeps in gripping your heart.

The memory of the last time he abandoned you abruptly flashing through your mind, he left you without a second thought once his mind was set, leaving you shattered and utterly alone. The panic begins to set in, a cold, suffocating sensation that makes it hard to breathe.

Benny continues, the hurt in his voice becoming more evident, “You wouldn’t have to take care of me, worry about me…”he says revealing the truth he’s been harboring.

You shake your head frantically, tears welling up in your eyes as you tremble at the implications of what he’s saying.

He takes a long drag from his cigarette, letting his words sink in before exhaling slowly.

“When I heal up, I’ll leave,” he says with cold finality, his voice flat and devoid of emotion, as if the words are a sentence he’s already decided on.

The statement hits you hard, knocking the breath out of you, and you take a moment to gather your resolve.

Benny doesn’t say anything more and leans forward to stub out his cigarette, the action slow and deliberate, like he’s putting the final seal on a decision that’s been weighing on him for far too long.

He leans back, arms outstretched, a look of painful acceptance on his saddened face, torn between what he feels is right and what he desires.

In a moment of quiet understanding, you slowly sit on the couch beside Benny, finally able to see what he has always needed most of all. Your acceptance of his resolve, the need to do what he feels he must even when you don’t agree with the decision.

As you look up at him, your eyes are filled with a mix of sorrow and reluctant understanding, fully grasping that he’s been struggling with.

Benny meets your eyes with a look of determination and coldness, his emotions buried deep behind a wall of detachment.

Knowing exactly what he needs in this moment you lean against him and wrap your arms gently around his torso holding him closely and providing him the love and comfort he so desperately needs.

You nestle into him and press your face gently against his chest as he looks down at you with a sternness and confusion in his gaze but then, gradually, his expression softens and he wraps his strong arms around you and pulls you close with a grip that is both possessive and protective.

His face buries into your hair, and you can feel the tension in his body slowly begin to ease, knowing that even though you don’t agree with his decision, you still accept him for who he is.

His hands thread through your hair, cradling your head as he holds you against his chest. The silence between you is heavy with unspoken words until you finally break it.

“Benny, I don’t want you to go,” you relent, your voice soft, filled with a final act of surrender, understanding that he will do what he feels he must.

He plants a soft kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering as he deeply inhales your scent, something so beautiful and sweet, something that anchors him when he feels lost.

His thumbs gently trace reassuring circles on your back as he rests his head against yours, no longer torn between his loyalty to the brotherhood and his love for you.

In this moment, the conflict within him fades away,and he feels completely at peace in your embrace more grounded and connected than he has ever felt before in his life.

Just you

At night, as Benny stands in the shower, the warm water cascading over his tired muscles, he has only one thing on his mind…you. The steam fills the small bathroom, clouding the mirror as he steps out, dries off, and brushes his teeth.

He uses the door frame to steady himself as he makes his way to the nightstand, his movements slower as he balances on his uninjured leg but he’s determined to do everything himself to prove himself to you.

He quickly takes his medications, and climbs into bed, the cool sheets a welcome relief against his warm skin.

When you enter the bedroom, Benny’s heart skips a beat at the sight of you. You’re wearing a silk robe, which you slowly slip off to reveal a delicate nightie underneath. The fabric clings to your curves in a way that stirs something deep within him, awakening a longing to create something passionately between you.

As you glance around the room, you notice that Benny has already taken care of himself. He’s brushed his teeth, taken his medications, and is already tucked in, waiting for you.

“Do you need help with anything, Benny?” you ask softly, your voice tinged with pride, knowing he managed to take care of everything on his own.

Benny’s eyes lock onto yours from where he’s resting in bed. For a moment, you see a flicker of something …lust, perhaps, but then it’s gone, replaced by a steady, confident gaze. “Just you,” he says, his voice low, the words laced with an undertone that sends a thrill through you.

A smile plays on your lips as you nod feeling a sudden blush creeps up your cheeks from his words. “Alright, Benny, I won’t be long,” you say sweetly, heading to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face for the night.

Benny watches you go, a spark of desire igniting in his chest, seeing the soft sway of your hips, the gentle curves of your body. He aches with longing, his eyes following your every step, craving the closeness that’s just out of reach.

He lays back against his pillow, wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms, to show you how much he needs you, how deeply he loves you. His cock is already swelling with desire, hardening at the mere thought of you.

When you return and climb into bed with him you reach over and click off the light, plunging the room into the darkness of moonlight. With a small, sigh, you settle in, your body turned from Benny as you prepare for the usual nights sleep.

But Benny shifts in bed moving closer, his hand reaching out gently brushing against your hip. His touch soft and tender, a silent request for intimacy as he waits for your response.

You feel the eagerness in his touch and feeling a bit slighted from your argument earlier you teasingly ignore him.

He grows bolder, his fingers gripping your hip with a firm but gentle pressure, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles along the curve. Despite his advances, you stay unyielding.

“Baby,” he finally says softly, his voice low and pleading with desire. “I need you…”

His hand lingers poised on your hip awaiting for your response and you cover your mouth unable to stifle the soft unmistakable sound of a giggle that escapes.

Benny smiles understanding your playful challenge.

“You gonna make me work for it tonight, hm?” he asks, his voice low and teasing as his hand trails slowly along your side, the warmth of his touch sending a thrill through you.

A soft sigh escapes your lips as you nod, feeling the spark of anticipation growing between you. You bite your lip, knowing exactly what you’re doing to him. “Mm-hm,” you confirm with a nod.

Benny’s smiles slowly trailing his finger tips down your shoulder, his touch tantalizing and deliberate, sending a warm shiver through your body.

“I can’t get enough of you, baby,” he murmurs, his voice filled with longing. “Seeing you in your little nightie and now you teasing me like this..,” he says, pulling gently at the silk strap, his fingers brushing against your skin.

“Now I need you, more than anything,” he confirms, his voice thick with desire as he leans in closer. His breath is soft against your neck. His chest presses firmly against your back as his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you intimately against him. “Don’t tease me like this baby,” he breathes into your ear, his lips grazing your skin.

You close your eyes, trying to hold onto your resolve, but the heat of his body and the intensity in his voice start to warm you up to his touch as you slowly give in. “Benny…,” you begin, your voice soft and breathless, but he shushes you with a quiet “shhh,” his breath warm against your ear as his hand slides down your side, the silk of your nightie gliding smoothly under his fingers as he teasing the edges of your panties with a feather-light touch.

“Mm Mmn, you wanted to tease me remember?” he says, his voice laced with a hint of satisfaction. “Now it’s my turn,” he continues, his tone deepening as his fingers widen their grasp, exploring your body with a possessive touch keeping you on edge. He draws out your anticipation with every firm deliberate squeeze. “Let’s see how much you can take,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine

His words break through, and you can feel the wetness increasing between your legs. You glance over your shoulder, meeting his gaze, the heat in his eyes making your heart race. “You’re not playing fair Benny,” you whisper, your voice breathless.

Benny’s lips curve into a knowing smile as his hand continues its slow exploration, sliding under the silk of your nightie. “Who said I was playing?” he whispers, his voice heavy with desire. The look in his eyes is one of pure, unrestrained lust, and it sends a wave of heat through your body, making you ache to give in to him completely.

“Benny…” you begin softly, your voice tinged with need, but he silences you with a kiss on your lips, slow and deliberate. The tip of his tongue teasing yours, sending waves of heat through your body. You moan into his mouth, unable to contain the pleasure building inside you.

His hand slowly slips under your nightie, gliding over your heated skin. He finds the edge of your lace panties, his fingers slipping inside to explore the slickness of your arousal. His touch is teasing and slow, his fingers glide through your wetness, each stroke making you crave him even more.

Benny’s lips leave yours, trailing a line of kisses down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers continue their exploration as he slips them deep inside of you, finding that sensitive spot within and stroking it with a rhythm that makes your body tremble. Your whimpers mix with your gasps, each sound growing more desperate as the pleasure builds inside you.

“You’re so wet for me,” he whispers against your neck, his voice low with desire. “I love feeling you like this baby,” he praises.

As his fingers curl inside you, he increases the pressure, his thumb circling your clit in time with his strokes. The sensation is overwhelming, every touch sending you closer to the edge. Your hips begin to move against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction, your breath coming in short, heated pants.

“That’s it,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice filled with encouragement. “Let go for me baby. I want to feel you come.”

The combination of his skilled fingers and his his words send you spiraling closer to the edge, the pleasure mounting with each passing second. Your body quivers in anticipation, overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch.​

Benny’s kisses travel down your throat, his tongue flicking against your pulse point as his fingers continue their relentless rhythm.

You feel every nerve in your body lighting up with desire, your whimpers turning into needy moans as you get closer and closer to release.

Your breathing quickens, your body tightening around his fingers as you teeter on the edge of release. His other hand moves to your breast, squeezing gently, his thumb brushing over your nipple, sending even more sparks of pleasure through you. The intensity is almost too much to bear, and you can’t help but moan loudly as the tension coils its tightest within your core.

“Benny-!” you cry out, your voice breaking with pleasure as your walls clench around his fingers as you moan feeling the intensity so powerful it makes you see stars.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Come for me… soak my fingers, just like that.”

His words push you over the edge, and with a final stroke, you shatter. Your orgasm crashes over you, your body convulsing with waves of pleasure that seem to go on forever.

Your moans are unending, filling the room as Benny holds you close, his fingers continuing to coax every last tremor from your body. Your panting and whimpers become breathless gasps, your entire being lost in the overwhelming ecstasy that courses through you.

He presses his lips to your neck, whispering softly, “That’s it, baby… so good for me ” his voice full of satisfaction knowing he’s given you exactly what you needed.

You come down from your high, your body trembling and weak and Benny withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips with a satisfied smile. He licks your arousal from his fingers, savoring the taste with a look of deep satisfaction.

Then, with a gentle yet insistent touch he guides your lips to his for a soft, lingering kiss.

The taste of pleasure on your lips sends a thrill through Benny as you struggle to catch your breath, feeling completely spent and utterly fulfilled. But the lingering intensity in his gaze tells you he’s far from done.

His hand slips under your nightie, his fingers tracing slow, sensual patterns around your navel. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, “I want to fill you up baby,” his voice heavy with desire, sending shivers of anticipation through your body.

“I want to create something lasting with you,” he reveals, his voice laced with intent. He lets the gravity of his words linger between you, his breath warm against your neck as his fingers trace slow, deliberate circles just below your belly button, lingering there with purpose.

His lips graze your ear as he leans in closer, “I want to have a baby with you,” he confesses, his voice tinged with longing, a deep need to create something permanent, something that binds you both in a way that nothing else can.

His touch feels different now, more intimate, as his hand moves gently across your stomach. The thought of carrying his child, of creating something lasting and beautiful with Benny, fills you with a deep profound sense of connection and love.

You turn your head slightly, your lips barely brushing his as you whisper, “I want that too, Benny.” Your voice is breathless, filled with anticipation and desire. You place your hand over his, pressing it more firmly against your stomach, silently encouraging him, letting him know you’re ready.

Benny’s eyes darken with intensity at your response, his fingers tightening their hold on you. “It’s all I want now,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with raw emotion. He leans in, kissing you softly at first, savoring the warmth of your lips. Then, his kiss deepens, growing urgent and passionate, making your heart race.

He pulls back just enough to say, “I’ll show you how much I want you,” his breath hot against your lips. Then, with deliberate slowness, he pulls you closer pressing his hard insistent cock firmly against your thighs. The sudden, powerful contact makes you moan, revealing in the strength of his desire that he’s been holding back, waiting until this very moment to let you feel just how much he needs you.

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Let me show you how much I love you,” he whispers, his voice low and filled with longing.

His hand glides up your side, fingers tracing lightly over the silk of your nightie and he hooks his finger under the strap, slipping it off your shoulder.

You help him with the other strap, feeling his breath warm against your neck as he guides the fabric lower. He presses soft, lingering kisses to your shoulder, each one more tender than the last, as he pulls the nightie down as far as he can.

You lift your hips, allowing him to hook his thumb into your panties, sliding them down along with the delicate nightie. He glides the fabric over your legs slipping everything off completely, leaving you naked and exposed beneath his gaze.

His hand finds your arm guiding you from your side onto your back and the away his hands move with such reverence and desire, makes your heart race.

“I know we can’t have a baby yet,” Benny says, his voice tense with lust, his eyes roaming over your body.

“But I’m going to practice tonight like it’s for keeps,” he promises.

Benny lifts himself over you, his movements controlled and steady. His body hovers above yours, the intensity in his eyes never wavering as he positions himself to take you completely

You reach up, trailing your hands along his broad shoulders holding them for support.

“Benny, I’m going to make sure we have that baby,” you promise him, your voice filled with resolve. “I’m stopping my pills tonight.”

His eyes gaze into yours with a strong sense of fulfillment and a slow satisfied smile forms at the corners of his lips.

With his strong arms braced on either side of your head, he lowers himself down, his lips capturing yours in a deep, sensual kiss, savoring every second, every touch, as if he’s determined to make you melt beneath him.

He settles between your thighs and his body is a delicious weight on yours. The sensation of his firm chest pressing against yours sends a thrill through you as the heat of his skin and the hard planes of his abs fit perfectly against your soft curves. It’s intoxicating, the strength of him surrounding you, making you feel both protected and utterly desired.

His hardened cock teasingly presses against your wetness,and the sensation makes you moan into his mouth which he captures in his heated kiss.

Your hands instinctively slide down his back, trailing over the firm muscles that tense beneath your fingertips. You reach down to the curve of your own hips, grasping the hem of your panties, desperate to remove the final barrier between you.

Benny’s lips trail down your neck, his kisses hot and lingering, and he helps you, his fingers brushing against yours as you tug at the delicate lace.

He grips the fabric firmly and there’s a brief pause, just enough time for you to feel the anticipation build, and then, with a sharp, satisfying tear, he rips the delicate lace apart. The sound of threads snapping fills the air, mingling with your soft gasp.

Benny slips the lace from your body and flings it aside, his mouth capturing yours in a heated kiss that is both raw and possessive. His body presses harder against you, his cock throbbing with need as he nudges it insistently against you.

His hands slide up your sides cupping your breasts as he circles your nipples with his thumbs, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

You moan softly into his mouth, arching your back, pressing your chest against his hands, craving more of his touch, more of him.

Benny pulls back, breaking the kiss his breaths heavy and uneven as he presses harder against your sensitive nipples, rolling them slowly under his thumbs. He watches you intently, savoring every cry, every moan that escapes your lips, taking his time to draw out your pleasure.

“I want to hear more of those sweet sounds,” he rasps, lowering his mouth to take one of your nipples between his lips. His tongue flicks teasingly over the sensitive peak before he sucks gently, working his lips and tongue in unison as your moans turn into soft, breathless cries.

His free hand continues to knead and tease your other breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers and pinching with just enough pressure to make you gasp. Your walls clench around nothing in response to the sensations he’s pulling from you.

Every lick, every pinch is planned, deliberate, keeping you teetering on the edge as he takes his time, savoring the way your body responds to him.

He shifts his body against yours, his hardened cock sliding through your soaked folds, spreading your wetness across your thighs. The slick heat between you only amplifying your physical need for each other.

“Baby, you’re so wet for me,” he groans, his voice thick with desire as he feels the slickness coating his length. He nudges his tip against your entrance, making you cry out, your hips lifting in response, seeking more of him.

His hands slide down from your breasts, gliding over your waist and settling firmly on your hips. His grip is possessive as he spreads your legs into the perfect position.

His cock is hard, throbbing with an almost painful need as the tip presses against your entrance. He looks down at you, his eyes dark with lust as he slowly pushes his hips forward.

His large cock eases into your slick tight walls sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body, your moans blending with his low, guttural groans as he pushes you to take it deeper.

He moves with deliberate slowness, savoring every inch as he fills you up. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pressure that has you arching into him, craving him as he continues to push. Benny groans, the sound deep and primal, as he buries himself into you completely his body trembling with the effort to hold back.

Your moans fill the room, mingling with his ragged breaths as he begins to move, each thrust measured, designed to push you closer to the edge. His hands grip your hips tight, guiding you to meet each of his thrusts , the rhythm between you building, intensifying with each passing second.

“Baby.. you feel so good,” Benny pants, his voice rough with desire. His lips find yours again, capturing your moans as his pace quickens, the pleasure coursing through you both. You can feel the tension building, the sweet, unbearable pressure signaling your impending release. You cling to him, your nails digging into his back as you surrender completely to the overwhelming sensation.

He breaks the kiss, his breath warm and uneven against your ear.

“I’m gonna fill you up soon,” he whispers, his voice heavy with desire. “Gonna make you big and round, carrying our baby.” His hand slides possessively to rest on your stomach, his touch lingering and firm. “Everyone will know… how much I wanted this, how much I wanted you,” he breathes, his lips grazing your ear with each word

Benny’s other hand moves down, slipping between your legs his fingers brushing over your clit with deliberate, teasing strokes.

His fingers circle your clit, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure through your body as his words sink in, heightening the intensity of the moment. “You want that, don’t you?” he breathes, his voice deepening with desire.

You moan in response, your breath hitching as you manage to say, “Y-yes!…Yes I want that Benny.”

“Good “ he says grinding his hips harder and pushing his cock deeper, as his hand continues its relentless assault on your clit. “I want you to come baby,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear, “come knowing what we’re going to make together… knowing how much I wanted to get you pregnant tonight.”

His words, his touch, and the deep, steady rhythm of his thrusts drives you to the edge. Your orgasm builds coiling the tension tighter and tighter until you can’t hold back any longer, it crashes through you, a tidal wave of pleasure that leaves you breathless, your body convulsing around him as you cry out his name.

“Take it deep for me” he groans with exertion feeling your walls tightening around his cock and a final, powerful thrust, Benny follows you into oblivion, his groans are guttural and raw, as he comes inside of you, his cock pulsing as his body trembles with the force of his release.

His breath comes in short, ragged pants as his hips gently grind against you, savoring every last moment of pleasure. Each spasm of his cock sending waves of warmth through your body.

He softly collapses against you, his breaths hot and ragged “The next one’s for keeps,” he says, his voice filled with exhaustion and excitement making a shared grin spread across both of your faces, knowing your mutual desire for the real thing.

He plants a tender kiss on your forehead, both of you spent but utterly satisfied, lost in the afterglow of a moment that feels like a new exciting path on your life adventure.

He’s Mine

After making sure Benny is settled in the morning, his breakfast finished and his medications taken, you sweetly kiss him on the forehead and tell him you’re going to make a quick dash to the grocery store.

As you get behind the wheel of your Mustang, you decisively head toward the Vandals’ club the grocery run was a rouse you had planned. The roar of the engine beneath you revs in the background of your focused thoughts. Your mind is set on a single goal: getting Benny out of the Vandals and claiming him all for yourself.

Once you arrive at the club you park the Mustang with precision, ensuring it’s securely locked before striding across the street. Dressed in a fitted crop top and high-waisted jeans, with a purse casually draped over your shoulder, you project confidence and determination. Each click of your heels against the pavement resonates with purpose as you approach the Vandal club.

With a deep breath, you push open the front door, your resolve unwavering.

The interior is dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of smoke and stale beer. Only a few members are scattered around, some lounging, others staggering with drunkenness. Their eyes follow you as you enter, faint whistles being heard some looking you over with curiosity and others something darker.

One of them, a long haired man with tattoos creeping up his neck, steps forward, his eyes narrowing as he gets a closer look. “Well, well, what do we have here?” he drawls, his gaze lingering on you in a way that makes your skin crawl. “You lost, little lady? Or maybe you’re just looking for some company?” he adds with a sly grin.

You don’t hesitate, your voice cutting through his sleazy haze like a knife. “Where’s Johnny?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest, your stance firm and unyielding.

The man holds up his hands in a mock gesture of surrender, a smirk playing on his lips. “Easy pretty lady. Johnny’s in the back. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Within minutes, you find yourself sitting face-to-face with Johnny in his office. The tension in the room is thick. You are leaned back in your chair, arms and legs crossed, barely concealing your irritation. Johnny, with his elbows resting on the table and fingers interlaced, has a look of avoidance on his face as he tries to gauge your mood.

You lock eyes with Johnny, your gaze unwavering as his eyes dart around, deliberately avoiding yours.

Beneath the surface, your anger simmers, but you keep it in check, your voice firm and resolute.

“You can’t have him, the club can’t have him,” you state, each word carrying the weight of your decision, leaving no room for argument.

Johnny raises an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. “Who?”

Your voice sharpens, cutting through the tense air. “You know exactly who I’m talking about. Benny!” you snap, sitting up straighter as your arms cross tighter against your chest.

Johnny’s smirk fades, replaced by a cold, calculating look as he finally grasps your intent. Before he can respond, you press on, your voice steady but charged with emotion.

“He’s mine,” you declare with a possessive edge staking your claim on Benny with every ounce of determination you have.

Johnny’s eyes lock onto yours, recognition dawning that you’re not to be taken lightly. Benny was right you are tougher than you look.

Johnny remains silent for a moment, absorbing the weight of your words. A flicker of respect crosses his face as he realizes you’re not backing down.

You lean in further, frustration and fear making your voice rise.

“If he keeps riding his motorcycle for the club, he’s going to die one way or another. It’ll kill him, and you know it!”

Johnny meets your eyes with mock concern, his voice dismissive. “What am I supposed to do about it?”

You don’t back down, your eyes brimming with the intensity of your emotions.

Johnny looks away from you, thinking it over, trying to convey the nature of Benny’s independence.

“I don’t own Benny, just like you don’t own Benny,” Johnny says, his tone hardening to emphasize the point.

“Ain’t nobody can tell that kid nothin’,” he continues, as if the matter is settled but your eyes still lock onto his undeterred.

“He’s grown,” Johnny adds, his tone firm as if that finalizes everything.

As you continue to stare him down Johnny makes Bennys independence clear.

“If he wants to ride a bike, he’s gonna ride a bike,” Johnny says with a shrug, the finality in his voice knowing Benny’s choices have always been for himself.

You lean forward, your voice firm and pleading. “Not if you tell him not to. Not if you tell him he’s out of the club.”

Johnny scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “C’mon,” he mutters.

Your anger flares, your eyes locking onto his.

“I’m his wife, NOT you,” you snap, each word sharp and pointed.

Johnny’s eyes narrow. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” he quips

You meet his gaze, unwavering and full of raw emotion. “Oh, I know you love him, I love him too,” you confess, your words hanging in the air. “That’s why you’ve got to help me.”​

For a brief moment, something flickers in Johnny’s eyes, something like hesitation or guilt, but it’s quickly replaced by his hardened expression. “Are you done?” he asks, his voice cold, his brows easing as if trying to brush off the weight of your words.

You shake your head, the tension still thick between you. “I don’t know, am I?” you retort, challenging him with your defiance.

Johnny leans back in his chair, his patience wearing thin, his eyes filled with a mix of frustration and something deeper, something he won’t name. “You got anything more to say?” he asks, his voice tight with barely contained annoyance.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you. “No. I said it,” you confirm, your voice final.

The silence that follows is heavy, an unspoken showdown as you both stare at each other. Finally, Johnny looks away, his expression twisted with annoyance . You stand abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor as you push it back, your heels echoing in the small office as you head for the door.

Before you leave, you turn back one last time, your voice sharp and definitive. “You can’t have him. The club can’t have him. he’s mine”

The door slams shut behind you, leaving Johnny alone with the truth he doesn’t want to face: you’re determined to separate Benny from his life, as a Vandal and he can’t allow that to happen.

🏍️ To be continued 🏍️

Part 5: For Keeps

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 life at risk, his decision is finalized changing both of your lives forever.

🔗 Master 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

[iheartyvesss]

boyfriend joel miller hcs

joel miller x younger!reader

i love southern men with my whole heart - a texan w a thing for her own accent ♥︎

this was very rushed bcs im working on a bigger joel and miguel fic right now so i just wanted to put something minor out while i did this

sfw & nsfw hcs! mentions of: breeding, dumbification, age gap (reader is 28, joel’s 34), pussy eating & fingering, that’s all i think?

post outbreak hcs here!

boyfriend!joel who feels his pretty young girlfriend is too good for him. he sees the way your eyes light up at the most miscellaneous of things and simply adores the way you’re the sunshine to his rainy day. he feels that you should have a chance to get settled and be happy, not be with your neighbor that just-so-happens to be an old man in need of a break. his feelings don’t matter, though, because everytime you come back from work you’re immediately at his house, smiling sweetly at him and pressing the softest of kisses to his lips.

boyfriend!joel who can’t take his eyes off of you while you take care of his sarah. the way you cook breakfast for her in his shirt and some shorts and dance around with his little girl while listening to “hey ya!” by outkast. sarah dances while mixing the pancake mix you’d ask her to, and you take care of the eggs and bacon. joel’s heart hasn’t felt this full since sarah was born. it’s on this day that joel realizes he wants to marry you. give you the kids you wistfully speak about while watching sarah fall asleep between the two of you. he wants to give you the family you deserve.

boyfriend!joel who glares at sarah’s soccer coach that keeps ogling you everytime you come to watch his little girl play. he doesn’t care what you wear, the short shorts and replica of sarah’s jersey are the least of his concern. it’s the eyes of the coach, amongst other fathers attending the game, that pisses him off. he knows not to make a scene because sarah would kill him, probably wouldn’t speak to him for days, but he can’t help the way his fist clenches and his teeth grind together. his anger clears when your sweet giggle floats through his ears, and your free hand that you’d been holding a sprite in tangles with his own. “you can’t possibly be jealous, baby.” you’d purred, grinning up at your boyfriend. “i’m goin’ home with you and my little girl after this. don’t worry about who’s lookin’ joel, they can look all they want.”

boyfriend!joel who takes pride in his girlfriend having a better job than him. you’re 28, fresh out of medical school with a doctorate in orthopedics. you work at the hospital down the street from sarah’s school and joel swears he has never been this attracted to scrubs before. he remembers the time you had to bring him lunch because he’d left it, and he can only presume you were on break or didn’t have any patients because you’d arrived in your scrubs with a happy smile on your face. “joel ‘s that your girl?” “mmmhm, that’s my doctor.”

boyfriend!joel who cannot for the life of him keep his hands to himself. it doesn’t matter what you’re doing, joel is going to have this hands on you! when you’re going grocery shopping his hand is settled on you waist, walking in step with you as you browse the aisles. sarah usually trots ahead of you two while talking about soccer or her school day if you’ve gone afterwards. when you’re at home, even if you’re just watching a movie or cooking, he’s kissing the side of your head and asking you the most miscellaneous of questions. you’ve discovered his love language is physical touch. (as if you could miss it)

nsfw headcanons ↓

boyfriend!joel who eats you out like he’s never eaten before. he’s dragging his tongue through your folds while his fingers busy themselves with rubbing your puffy clit. he’s made you cum once already by ordering you to use him, to move your hips as you needed to cum on his face. now he’s ignoring your cries for him to slow down, your soft cry of “‘s too much” only fuels him further, makes him eat your pussy like a madman. joel knows what makes you tick, he knows what spots to hit to make that pretty cunt clench and he does it for you every. single. time.

boyfriend!joel who can’t help but to fuck you dumb. he’s never trying to overwhelm you, to make you go stupid on his cock. no that’s never his intention. but he can’t deny how pretty you look with your eyes glossed over, fingers digging into his back, and your lips parted in nothing but ecstasy. he enjoys the way his smart girl loses all her senses with a little dick. he enjoys knowing his smart girl is just a slut with a degree, and it makes him harder the more he thinks about it.

boyfriend!joel who couldn’t control himself after you mentioned wanting kids. you’re talking with your friends that’d come over for a bit, and the statement comes out soft and sweet. “i want kids, i just don’t know if joel wants to start over.” you’d hummed, smiling softly at your friend’s 6 month old daughter. the evening passed quickly after that, and with sarah gone with her friends, joel has the entire night to make sure you have that baby you want so badly. it isn’t long before you find yourself in full nelson, pussy gushing and tears falling from your eyes. “joel- oh-” you gasp out as your eyes roll and your pussy tightens around your boyfriend’s dick. joel groans from above you, pulling his hips all the way out to snap them back against you. “aht, baby, you gotta take it all. you wanted a baby, i jus’ gotta give it to you. take it pretty mama, take this dick.”

boyfriend!joel who talks you through every orgasm. either the sweetest of phrases leavehis lips or the nastiest. joel likes to watch you fall apart with a satisfied grin on his face. “that’s it, my good girl. mmhm, let go f’me sweet girl. that’s it- jus’ like that baby.” and he’s leaning over to kiss you softly while your body shakes from your orgasm, your eyes are closed to prevent them from rolling and he finds it cute because he can still tell. he knows how good he makes you feel. it’s his pride and joy.

boyfriend!joel who knows how to use his accent. he knows you aren’t originally from texas and that southern accents simply do something to you. you believe it to be the huskiness of his voice mixed with the deep rumble of the sheer power of his voice, it all melts over you like a blanket. joel likes to whisper in your ear, deep and low. “thas’ my pretty slut, hm? takin’ this dick like she’s a professional.” and you’re moaning, clenching the sheets as he presses down on the middle of your back. his voice only becomes clearer with each stroke, and he’s practically splitting you down the middle while whispering in your ear. “come now, darlin’. there’s no way you’re cumming offa listening to me.” he laughs this low and raspy laugh that is so sexy to you. you can only whine in response, glancing over your shoulder with a little pout decorating your puffy lips. “can’t help it, baby.” you whimper out, not a thought going through your mind save for joel joel joel.

back to the website !

[billybob598]

Consequences of Our Actions (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

2 fics in one day whaaaa?????? Double whammy bitches. Anyways here's part 2! Next fic will be pt2 to How Many People? Again, any feedback good or bad welcomed! Enjoy reading!

Part 1 here

Word Count: 1.3K (kinda short but who cares? (me))

“And it’s another goal for Y/N Y/L/N! Wow! She has been blossoming here at Bayern Munich.” Alexia tries to ignore the game playing on the TV in the team's common area.

“Could you shut that off, gracias,” she calls out to her teammates.

“Oh, come one Ale. Just because she’s not our teammate anymore doesn’t mean we can’t support her,” Mapi says back as she watches Ingrid dance around happily at another one of your goals. You had transferred to Bayern a little over a month ago, breaking Alexia’s heart while simultaneously repairing yours. It didn’t help that you were performing better than you had ever at Barca. Everyone at Barca understood your decision, you were not getting the playing time you deserved and the few close to you knew that it was tearing you apart to be around Alexia every day. Moving was for the best, for everyone. Everyone except Alexia, it took her days, a lot of movies, and her mother’s home cooking before she recovered from walking into your bare apartment. While she had thought about contacting you numerous times, Ingrid and Keira had advised her not to, stating that it would only make things worse. The captain missed you. She missed how whenever she called you’d be there, she missed how happy you looked when you were playing football, she missed how you’d give her kisses on the forehead before she fell asleep, she missed everything about you. While you were out there, playing and looking better than ever, Alexia was kicking herself over how she let you slip through her fingers. Her teammates were starting to become concerned, they’d never seen Alexia so hung up on anyone, not even Jenni. 

Almost two months since moving to Germany and you were thriving. Everyone was so kind, the team welcomed you with open arms, the fans were already calling you an integral part of the team, everything was going perfectly. Yet, you still felt this emptiness in your heart. You knew what you were missing, but the whole point of moving was to get over her. You’d be damned if you let yourself fall down that rabbit hole again. So, you went on dates, sometimes they’d be mutual connections, sometimes they were from dating apps, and sometimes they were set up by your friends. None of them made you feel like Alexia did. None of them gave you that certain rush of adrenaline that she did. You were trying everything to get over her, but no matter what, at least once a day your thoughts would wander back to her. Reaching out to her was something you contemplated regularly however, the few friends you had made in Germany had told you not to. They said that you were there to heal. They were right, of course. But, everything just seemed off without her, Alexia gave you balance. As weird as it sounds, she was your everything even if you weren’t hers. 

Once again Alexia’s finger was hovering over your contact. Once again she sighed and turned her phone off. Instead, she decided to shoot her mom a quick text asking if she could come over. Ten minutes later, Alexia is settled on her mom’s couch with Eli sitting across from her with a concerned look on her face.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong, carino,” Eli asks delicately. Alexia groans in frustration.

“I don’t know, mama. I thought I would be okay, but every damn thing reminds me of her. She just won’t get out of my head. I can’t believe I lost her!” She exclaims, her hands running down her face. Eli just looks sympathetically at her daughter.

“Maybe you haven’t lost her, bebe.”

“What?”

“I mean, you could always go after her, eh? Don’t you have a few days off anyway? Go see her, tell her how you feel about her,” her mother tries to convince her. Alexia shakes her head,

“Mama, what makes you think she would want to see me? I broke her heart. I’m the reason she left! She probably wants nothing to do with me,” she mumbles out the last part sadly.

“You don’t know that. You won’t know that until you talk to her,” Eli reasons, trying everything to get her daughter to shoot her shot. Slowly nodding her head, Alexia starts to come around to the idea. Whipping out her phone, she quickly searches for flights to Munich.

The next day, Alexia walks through the streets of Munich. Surprisingly, your face is everywhere. Billboards, bus benches, store windows, apparently the people of Germany adored you. This doesn’t ease Alexia’s nerves at all. She had it all planned out, after reaching out to one of the Bayern coaches she had a connection with, she was able to discover what time your guys’ training ended and what coffee shop you frequently visited after. So, she waits inside the coffee shop for a few minutes until you walk in. You looked perfect, your hair was still damp from the shower, the Bayern Munich hoodie you donned fit you just right, and the veins on your hand popped ever so slightly when you removed your backpack from your shoulders. There was only one small problem. You weren’t alone. Accompanying you was Klara Bühl. She was standing a little too close to you, her hand a little too close to yours, her laugh a little too loud at your joke. Alexia wanted to sink into her seat. She wanted to disappear. You had moved on. God, she was stupid for thinking you would wait around for her, clearly you had not. She pushed the cap resting on her head further down. Now she had to get out of there. Taking one last sip of her coffee, she stood up as inconspicuously as she could. Her feet moved swiftly carrying her towards the exit, she was almost there, so close. 

“Alexia?” Your voice stopped her dead in her tracks. She did not want to turn around, she was begging that you would let her go. You did not. “Is that you?” Taking a deep breath, Alexia spun around on her heel with a forced smile on her face.

“Y/N? Hey!” Her voice was about two octaves higher than normal.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, Klara sitting behind you was smiling softly.

“Umm, nothing. We had a few days off,” she tries to work her way out of the situation. 

“So you came to Germany? Really?” Your eyebrow was raised slightly. You did not buy it. 

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Just enjoy your time with your girlfriend,” Alexia snapped, gesturing towards the German behind you. Your eyes widened at the insinuation that Klara was your girlfriend, but before you could say anything Alexia turned around and stormed out of the quiet cafe. You stood frozen to the spot, dumbfounded.

“Go get your girl, dumbass,” Klara, your friend, speaks up from her spot. Didn’t need to tell you twice, you shake out of your trance and sprint through the doors before searching down the sidewalks. Klara watches in amusement while sipping her coffee. Your neck was starting to ache from how quickly you were whipping it around looking for Alexia. Finally spotting her blonde streaked hair in the crowd. You push your way through many groups of people until you reach the Spanish player. Alexia jumps in surprise at your hand suddenly making its way onto her shoulder. 

“Y/N? Wha-” 

“Shut up and let me speak,” you cut her off. She immediately stops her question. “I’ve missed you, Ale. Like, a lot. I tried to move on, I did, but for some unfathomable reason, I can’t. I know you said ‘no’ before but if I’m right in thinking that you flew over here to see me then, I think I can ask again,” You take a deep breath, “Would you like to go on a date with me?” Alexia’s face breaks out into a blinding smile. She looks at you, her heart beating like crazy inside of her chest.

“I would love nothing more.”

[gatorbites-imagines]

Was wondering if I could maybe do a hobbie brown request?

I was thinking of something like M!reader being an alternate universe version of Miguel's child who, rather than dying himself, had to watch his dad die, basically becoming a smaller version of Miguel but with some key differences (ie like having difficulties with controlling his powers when he’s emotional or having authority issues) and Hobbie seems to take a liking towards him?

Hobie Brown x O’Hara male reader

Headcanons

Theres really not enough hobie gifs,,,,

I literally got a spidersona whose Miguel’s son lmaooo, not movie Miguel, but like, the Miguel from a different earth. So, the reader is based off of him in this :3c

You would have joined the spider society after an abnormality appeared in your world. Everyone had expected to meet another version of Miguel, since it was set in Nueva York. But instead, they got you.

You were younger, angrier, had less control of your powers, and had little to no respect for authority. And though it pained you deeply to see Miguel, he didn’t have a similar reaction, since he had a daughter and not a son.

Others started to avoid you since you had a tendency to snap at others and your powers made it even harder for you to get close to anyone. Like your dad, you kept to yourself and let yourself stew in your misery.

The first time you met Hobie was during on of your common arguments with Miguel. You two were way too alike, meaning you two butted heads, a lot. You each had your own way of doing things and didn’t like change. Maybe it was the O’Hara in your blood, but you never backed down.

It became a common sight to see the two of you hissing and snapping at each other, you because Miguel looked exactly like the dad who had abandoned you, and Miguel because you were like a reflection of himself and all the things he hated about himself.

After another one of your explosive arguments, you stomped out of Miguel’s “office”, but before you could get fat Hobie fall down from the ceiling and started walking beside you, giving you some compliment about how you never seemed to back down against authority.

In the beginning Hobie had annoyed you a lot, you had tried to chase him off like you had everyone else, but Hobie didn’t seem to act like everyone else.

He had a feeling that you chased off anyone who might like you because you feel you don’t deserve it, and after a long time of needling and prodding, you two became closer. At this time, you were both developing feelings, but you didn’t accept you liked someone, and Hobie felt no need to rush it.

As you became good friends, your image at hq became lighter, as having a friend seemingly was what you needed. Someone who’d talk you down when you fell back too much on your anger and spidery biology, and someone who’d listen when you needed to talk, and Hobie was a great listener.

Hobie ends up learning about your situation. You father was Miguel O’Hara, your earths version of him, and he was spiderman. He had you with your mother, and when you were young he left and never returned. Apparently, he believed that abandoning you would save you, or he felt he didn’t deserve a family.

When he left you had been old enough to know he abandoned you, and seeing spiderman on tv screens and on the internet only made you and your mother feel worse.

And then one day Spiderman died. Not long after that your mother got remarried and you started developing your powers. They had stayed dormant until you reached a certain age, and your mother and her husband had reacted horribly to this.

They turned horribly abusive, and you had to run away when you were a teen. One thing led to another, and Miguel’s brother Gabriel helped you onto your feet. He hadn’t known you existed until then.

Together he taught how to control your powers, he had helped you become spiderman, and then he died. He was your uncle ben you could say, but you held his words close to your heart to become a better spiderman, even though your powers became too much sometimes.

Talking about your issues ended up helping you a lot, and even though you do rage sometimes, its much less now, and you start to get closer to the other spiderpeople around your age.

At some point, when you and Hobie are hanging out in your dimension, sitting on a rooftop and eating something you got from a food truck, Hobie turns to you.

You both have your masks pushed up, or rather Hobie has his pushed up, and yours is a hologram and has just disappeared from the bottom of your face.

 Before you can react, Hobie has leaned over and kissed you. You don’t even get to return the kiss before he’s pulled away and returned to his food, acting as casual as ever. Its only when you shake him demanding an answer that he tells you that he likes you.

Thanks to all the growth you’ve done as a person you are able to admit that you like him too, and another kiss is shared between the two of you. And after that, you two became a thing.

Hobie was never one for labels, but hed accept the label of being your boyfriend. He happily told anyone who asked, almost bragging that he was able to get you to agree to date him, which always leads to you rolling your eyes at him but smiling, just a little.

Miguel almost has a heart attack when he learns you and Hobie are dating, because after all this time hes started to see you in a familial light, and you have started to see him in a similar way. He will never be your original dad, and you will never be his daughter, but that’s okay.

Hobie is very proud of you for making such great progress, so he takes you out on a date. He isn’t one for big expensive dates, so it would be something like swinging around his city together, or cuddling in his apartment as you watch a movie.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to join the spider society as you thought it was.

[aerinaga]

can you pls write something for paige inspired by the song ‘good luck babe’ by chappell roan💕

goodluck, babe!

paige bueckers x reader

warnings: none

you and paige have been in a “situationship” for a while. its been on and off. she would go around and hang with girls, kiss them and go off somewhere else.

but you’re here, being so loyal to her. you don’t even know why, not even realizing that you’re hurting yourself.

you and paige agreed that you would meet today, have a movie and wingstop date together.

its been 30 minutes since you’ve arrived at the cinemas, tickets in hand. you texted her multiple times, even called her a few times. what did you get? nothing.

in fact, she was the one who asked you out, yet she was the one that ditched you.

you watched Inside Out 2 alone, and you saw paige outside the cinema.

her hair was disheveled, clothes not put on right, lips puffy.

oh you knew.

you didn’t even know what to call yourself anymore, your feelings were lingering around. paige rushed to you, apologizing so much. it made you think that this isn’t worth it. this society has so much more to give than just paige.

“paige, it’s okay. i think this is it for us, i deserve better than being ditched. goodluck, babe.”

you gave her one last hug and a kiss, leaving her dumbfounded.

[mountainficss]

hii oomf (its hannieehaee hii<3) i think u rlly wanna write some subby vernon blurb/oneshot 🌀🌀🌀 anyways ilu love ur writing hope u have a nice day<33

!! mentions of: sub!vernon, oral sex, marking, overstimulation

omg hi hannieehaeee!!! i love you so badddd omg i’m so sorry it took me so long!

i would looove to write sub vernonnnn 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 i honestly think vernon is so cute ughhh. honestly i’ve been thinking about taking care of vernon after he’s had a bad day. he just deserves to be taken care of he’s so precious.

he’d send you little texts throughout the day, telling you how much he misses you and how today isn’t really his day. he spilled his drink all over his clothes on his way to work, and he had sent you a picture of the huge stain on his shirt. then he had managed to lose his wallet, but thankfully someone had found it on the ground and returned it to him (with $20 stolen from it). to add insult to injury, his shift ended a bit later than usual, causing him to get home later than he would like. by the time he arrived to your apartment, he was tired and hungry and fed up, wanting nothing but to see you and forget about his unsatisfactory day.

and luckily for him, you just make everything better :) you could tell from the tone of his texts that he wasn’t himself today, and you never fail to jump into protective mode when vernon is feeling a bit vulnerable. you had just finished cooking his favorite meal by the time he arrived home, seating him down at the table and placing a plate of warm food in front of him. he’d feel so grateful, thanking you with the sweetest smile ever as he eats quietly. you’d scoot your chair close to his, running your fingers through his hair as he ate. he loves it when you play with his hair :) he finds it so soothing. after he finishes his meal, you’d clear his dishes for him and usher him to the couch, making him plop down and sitting right next to him. you’d turn on the tv as he stretched against the cushions, turning on a random movie just to help him wind down. you’d scoot closer, snaking your arms around his body to massage his tense shoulders. he’d immediately lean into your touch, letting out a relieved sigh as you release the tension from his muscles.

as the sounds from the tv lull him into a peaceful state, vernon can’t help but wonder how he got so lucky with you. you had squashed all of his gloom at the door as you dragged him inside; he swears it all evaporated the moment he laid eyes on you. on top of that, you were thoughtful enough to make his favorite meal when you knew he wasn’t having the best day. filling his stomach after a long day, especially with a warm meal made with love, always made him feel better. and now you’re sitting next to him, rubbing his aching shoulders as you hum quietly to yourself. he’d feel so loved, so cared for underneath you, and he couldn’t help but want more. you’re so good to him, and thinking about it would make him restless. he’d squirm a bit beneath you, leaning into your touch a bit more. he needed you, and he’d hope you take the hint. “feeling okay?” you’d ask gently next to his ear, your soft voice sending a chill down his spine. he’d only be able to respond with a rushed “mhm,” his eyes shut tightly as he focuses on your touch. even though he never vocalizes it, you could tell when vernon was needy. his cute clinginess is one of your favorite things about him.

vernon would feel your hands straying away from his shoulders, instead traveling down his arms languidly. the sensation of your hands exploring his body never fails to excite him, and he’d become restless under your touch. your fingers would graze the skin of his stomach as you reach around, toying with the bottom hem of his shirt. “can i take care of you, vernon?” you’d question, leaning in to press a little peck to his cheek. he’d crane his head back in an attempt to chase your lips, only nodding after receiving a kiss from you <3 you’d litter kisses down his neck and jawline, savoring the tiny sounds vernon is trying so hard to hide from you. you’d find his sweet spot immediately, sucking lightly on the skin when he whimpers louder than usual. leaving pretty marks on vernon was one of your favorite pastimes; decorating his skin like your own personal canvas is something you’d never get tired of. and he’d love it, always whimpering when he feels your lips and tongue on his flushed skin. and of course, your other favorite pastime was having vernon’s length in your mouth, feeling the weight of his erection on your tongue and tasting the saltiness of his arousal. so that’s what you’d do :)

you’d sink to your knees beneath him, nestling onto the carpet and staring up at him lovingly. he always looked so pretty, but tonight he’d look different. he looked spent, worn from an exhausting day of mishaps, yet his eyes were so full of desire. his excitement did nothing but fuel your ego, and his disheveled state made you want to take care of him even more. you’d toy with the buckle of his belt, finally undoing it and tugging his pants and boxers down in one go. his cock would smack against his stomach, a string of precum connecting to the fabric of his button up. he’d let out a small exhale as he gazes down at you, watching as you lick a teasingly slow stripe up the underside of his cock. he’d throw his head back at the feeling, a loud whimper clawing up his throat as you repeat the action. “i’ll make you feel so good,” you’d reassure him, landing a small kiss on his leaking tip. “i—i know,” he’d choke out, groaning as you completely envelop him in response. you’d swallow his length, your mouth completely full of him as you try to relax your throat. vernon wasn’t the vocal type, but tonight he must’ve been feeling extra sensitive. quiet whimpers and moans would tumble from his lips mindlessly as he throws his head back, free hand traveling to your face to settle on your hollowed cheek. you could tell he was close already, his eyes cutely rolling back into his skull before he squeezes them shut. you loved when vernon got like this, loved when he lost himself in the pleasure you give him. he’d be restless too, legs squirming slightly as you fuck him with your mouth. vernon wouldn’t be able to hold back. you were bringing him to a blissful high, and he’d be so far gone by the time he even gets a word out. “i c-can’t. gonna—” he’d splutter, only feeling your bobbing head increase the pace. your hands would grasp his inner thighs, squeezing slightly as you feel his hips buck up into your mouth. the lewd squelching sounds and your lustful gaze combined would tip him over the edge, a needy moan escaping as he spills into your mouth.

you’d keep sucking, swallowing down all of his release and helping him ride out his orgasm. he’d twitch above you, letting out a whine as he grabs your hair. wouldn’t pull you off or push you down, he’d just settle there, taking everything you’re giving him despite the overstimulation. you’d let up after a little while, not wanting the pleasure to border on pain. after releasing him with a satisfying pop, you’d gaze up at vernon with a grin. and he’d give you a blissed out smile in return, a cute little breathy laugh slipping from him. “thank you,” he’d whisper, eyes following your form as you clamber back onto the couch. “you really know how to make a bad day a good one.” you wouldn’t answer, would just go back to running your fingers through his hair as he dozes off in your arms </3

taglist: @jeonghanpill , @bangantokchy , @caratboy , @bewoyewo , @luvseungcheol , @wonvsmile , @haolovre , @aaniag , @writingbarnes , @dokyeomkyeom , @allieyaaa

[incogrio]

k.th - escape with me

pairing: taehyun x gn! reader

genre: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort except i’m bad at writing the hurt part

synopsis: taehyun tries to make up for not being able to go out in public w u. ends up trying to act tough in an escape room.

warnings: poorly written all around, angst, tae is kinda mean, reader is cringy, members make fun of tae

w/c: 1.5k+

a/n: okay so. this took so long to write bc ya boy has been STRUGGLING w both motivation and the wifi in costa rica. i kinda gave up at the end, pls forgive me :( once im back in the states, ill be writing much better fics! and i’ll be accepting requests for enhypen too!!!!! (might be a little inaccurate as i am currently getting into them) ANYWAYS LOVE YALL I HOPE YOU DONT KILL ME FOR HOW BAD THIS IS!!!

taehyun was, in many ways, your dream boy. he was affectionate, protective, caring, funny, and he always listened.

except for when he couldn’t.

you were currently in your third fight of the week with your boyfriend of a few months. the topic of your arguments never wavered: you could never be seen in public with him. actually, scratch that. you could be in public with him. it’s not like you wanted a huge display of affection right in the middle of the streets of seoul. you did, however, want to feel like your relationship with your boyfriend wasn’t so one sided.

“tyun, please, stop.” you cried, resting your head in your hands whilst seated on the couch.

“no, you have to listen! i can’t give you what you want, y/n. if only you stopped being so selfish.”

and then, footsteps. a door slamming. blood began rushing to your ears and manifesting itself as tears cascading down your cheeks. he never called you by your real name. he never left you in the middle of a fight. he never made you sob without consoling you. he never.

it wasn’t until two days later that you heard from taehyun in forms other than ‘did you eat?’ texts and doordash notifications. three heavy knocks erupted from the side of taehyun’s fist and the wooden door. the same door that you had been seated at everyday for hours, awaiting his return.

“angel, are you there?” he asked, his voice clearly strained from sobbing or yelling, or both. you didn’t respond, but he noticed your shadow sitting on the ground via the slit between the door and the floor.

he sighed as he slowly adjusted himself to sit with his side and head leaning against the wood.

“you don’t have to open up. just listen, yeah? can you listen for me, doll?” he asked rhetorically. “i am so sorry, angel. you… you deserve so much more than i am able to give you. so much more than hiding and sneaking around and figuring out disguises. you deserve your praises shouted from the rooftops.” taehyun sighed.

a pregnant pause. “i talked to hybe. that’s… that’s what i’ve been doing. i told them how much it’s been hurting us. and i think we can make this work! if you want to, angel… please, please want to.”

you sniffle. “i do.” taehyun closed his eyes and sighed dreamily at the sound of your voice. he allowed himself to cry for a moment, biting his lip to quench his whines.

“thank you, baby.”

a few days later, taehyun is in the back of txt’s van, accompanied by all the members and you. he had promised you that you’d be able to go on actual dates, as long as they were slightly modified. restaurants would be cleared out of people, and staff were to sign an nda. parks were to be closed off to the general public due to “maintenance”. movie theaters were to be kept completely dark at all times, with only you two and the staff not even being allowed to know who the famous person was. it was not a normal relationship, far from it, but it was yours. and he cared enough to try for you.

today, you were on your way to an escape room. txt were already filming a “to-do” episode in this specific location, and taehyun managed to convince the staff to give him a separate escape room to do with you after the filming had ended. you were ecstatic when he told you, and he was ecstatic that you were no longer crying because of him.

except, for a few days ago, when he told his beloved members of the plans.

“you’re taking… them… to an escape room? you’re a scaredy cat.” soobin noted with a scrunched up face in confusion. tyun’s happy smile slowly deflated, his eyes uncrinkling as he thought about what he said.

beomgyu immediately burst out laughing, “you’re gonna embarrass yourself! oh my god- you should record it too!” taehyun immediately rolled his eyes, and pretended his members words didn’t get to him. kai immediately went up to him and patted his back silently.

so now, as he sits next to you he’s fidgeting with his shorts, looking out the window as his sweat becomes more frequent. would you think he was a loser if he got scared? would you break up with him? make fun of him? prefer kai because of his calmness when it comes to jumpscares?

he began bobbing his leg up and down, gnawing at his lip as the van finally pulled up to the filming location. taehyun tried his best to calm himself for the filming, but found that the members had to say his nerves were from fear of the jumpscares.

what felt like too long and too little time passed, and suddenly you were both being told the synopsis of your goal by the escape room manager.

as you both walk inside the dimly lit, extremely decorated gigantic cage, you slip your hand into taehyuns.

“i’m a little nervous…” you muttered, and he felt a glimpse of both hope and bravery blossom in his chest.

a small smile graced his lips, “don’t worry, i’ll protect you!” he said with his teeth sticking out from behind his lips. he looked adorably unthreatening. immediately after, a booming recording welcomed you into the chamber.

“WELCOME LAB RATS!” it shouted, causing you both to jump, “DONT WORRY! YOU WONT BE IN THIS CAGE SOON! SOON, YOU’LL BE JUST LIKE HIM!” and suddenly! the roof pops open and a giant, fake rat corpse falls to the ground. you immediately shriek and hide behind taehyun, and he gulps in fear as he tries his best to maintain his composure.

he reaches behind him with one hand, holding your waist softly as he tries to simultaneously comfort the both of you, and uses his free hand to stuff his closed fist into his mouth in a desperate attempt to stifle his scream.

you slowly creep out from behind him, realizing how obviously fake the rat was and that you had missed all of the clues the fake doctor had given you during the rest of his monologue. oh well, you think, and look to tae.

“are you…” you laugh a little, “are you okay?” you ask incredulously as you witness his biting on his fist. he looks up, immediately dropping his fist and shoving his tough guy act back on.

he nods, clenching his jaw and trying to keep a straight face.

oh, you think. oh this is going to be fun.

you insist on splitting up, looking around a comically food bowl and finding various clues and seemingly random items.

tae is behind you on the other side of the cage. he reaches his hand inside the giant pile of fake hamster shavings, straining his neck to keep his eyes barely looking at the scene in front of him. as he combs through the shavings, his hands wrap around a small, cylindrical object. he shrieks in fear, launching back and landing on his butt before crawling over to you.

he clears his throat pointlessly, “um… something is over there…” he says, voice wavering despite his want to seem fine.

you have to bite your lip in order to hold back your laughter. you walk over, kneeling at the shavings.

he whined out a small, “ahh!!!” as he closed his eyes and turned away, only hearing you reach inside. you pull out what looked to be a kaleidoscope. you decide to have some fun.

“i got it,” you mutter, and he slowly turns back towards you. “wait what the… AHHHHH!!!!” you start screaming in faux terror when you lifted it up to look through it, throwing it across the cage. taehyun, despite his fear, rushes up next to you, holding your cheeks in his palms and squishing them together slightly.

“are you okay?” he asked, nervousness obvious in his boba eyes.

you shake your head and pout dramatically, “you look and see!!” you insist.

he sighs, pressing a kiss to your forehead and slowly going up to the kaleidoscope as though it would reach out and bite him. he brings it up to his eye, and tilts his head.

“there’s nothing?” he remarks in tiny english, to which you grow genuinely confused at. you were being dramatic, yes, but before you saw a beautiful design with letters and numbers throughout.

“what?” you walk up, looking through it. and again, darkness. you slowly lower it from your eye, bringing a hand to cover your mouth in shock. “oh my god i broke it.”

“huh?”

“TYUN I WAS BEING DRAMATIC SO I COULD SCARE YOU BUT OH MY GOD I BROKE IT.”

he stares at you in disbelief, before letting out a few giggles and looking up at one of the cameras in the room.

“can we still complete the escape room?” he asked, scratching the back of his head as he ignored your cackling.

they only hear a sigh, before being promptly kicked out of the building.

long story short: next time, just ask your beautiful boba eyed boyfriend to take you bowling. he’d still embarrass himself, but at least the props will stay intact.

comment, dm, or ask to be added to the taglist!

requests are open for both enhypen and txt!! ask to your hearts content :3

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[dontbesoweirdkira]

“I’ll keep you safe in these arms of mine”

A/N: A short ooc drabble of Kung Lao comforting a partner with insomnia/slight noctiphobia leaning towards somniphobia. This is totally not personal at all….

Warnings: none

Requests: always open for my bbgurls

Masterlist

Nights have always been rough on you for as long as you can remember. Was it the fear of something sinister and mysterious lurking in the corner of your room while you slept? Or was it the worry of a horrible dream coming to torment your mind all night?

It wasn’t clear, but what you did know is that as the night drew near and it was time to rest, you increasingly became uneasy.

It didn’t help that most nights, Kung Lao was gone, tirelessly training around the clock. You’d rarely see him these days and missed him greatly through the daunting nights alone. He didn’t know about your nightly troubles. You never really wanted him to worry about your wellbeing more than he already does, especially now with him being away from home.

Usually you’d keep on all the lights in the house while he was gone and drown yourself with “positive” overststimulation. You’d stay up throughout the night watching childhood movies, playing music, and doing various activities. Honestly just anything to try to keep your mind occupied and off of your crippling anxieties about the world around you.

Tonight though, your partner was going to be home which meant that maybe..for the first time in a while you could actually sleep through the night. Excitedly, you waited in your shared bedroom for Kung Lao to arrive. Only to be left there waiting, hours past his supposed arrival time…

“Sorry I took so long, dear. I needed to stay back and help a struggling student out—“

Your Kung Lao had finally come through the door and began talking his hat and gear off

“—how was your day? Better than mine I suppose?.”

He smiled weakly over at you while he tirelessly threw his shoes off.

“It was nice. I’m very happy that you’re back because I-“

Cutting you off, leaned over the bed and planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Me too, I missed you…and this bed. I’m absolutely beaten.”

He let out an exhaustive sigh and apologized for cutting your reunion short but that he could barely keep his eyes open much longer. Turning out the light, he sheepishly laid the rest of his body onto the bed and shortly thereafter he was fast asleep.

You felt for him. He was doing extremely taxing things with little to no breaks. He was passionate about his new found work with the Shaolin. Eager to do great things. But anyone, even someone as talented as he, is destined to be this tired after all of that effort. You could hardly blame him for rushing to get some actual rest for once.

It just kind of sucked though. You hoped that he would've been home a lot sooner so you guys could’ve chatted a little longer. You planned for a movie, maybe some snacks or some other activity to hopefully help with your anxiety before actually having to go to bed …but it’s okay. He was here and that alone made a huge difference in your comfortability. Enough so that you were able to get in a bit of shut eye before jolting up from a night terror.

You panted and panickedly looked around the room. Frightened that whatever that was happening inside your dream, might’ve followed you back inside your room. Looking over to your right, you saw Kung Lao safe, and still peacefully sleeping. You took a moment to breathe and ground yourself back into reality. Trying to ignore the utter darkness around you and the eeriness of it all. You knew how much it wanted to devour you alive.

You couldn’t do your late night ritual of overstimulation of media and lights, as to not wake your boyfriend up from his long deserved slumber. In a childish attempt in desperation, you tossed the covers over you both and curled up into a ball. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you tightly wrapped your arms over your arms over them. Holding onto them for dear life and whispering encouragements in an attempt to soothe yourself from your own insanity.

“I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m safe—“

You stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, waiting for the night to just go away so you’d be fine again. You thought about going into the living room so you could watch your shows there but, that’d mean you’d have to go out from your safety cocoon and into the darkness to get there…no way

Even thought about just scrolling on your phone but only God knew where it was right now— many possible solutions bounced around your head as you thought of a way to make things better when something tugged on your clothes.

Snapping out of the trance of your mind, you turned your head over towards the direction of the tug and faced your boyfriend. You started to apologize for having thought to disturb him when surprisingly, a light chuckle was let out

“Are you scared, my bunny?”

You softly let out shaky no. As much a you did want his comfort, you decided against it. He was tired enough as it is, last thing he needed was to be kept up by your foolishness.

Even though Kung Lao was half asleep and barely had one eye open, he was fully aware of your current state. Your white lie was easily seen through and he spoke once more,

“Don’t have to lie about it. I could feel you shaking...Come’re—“

He used whatever bit of strength he had left in his to motion you over and pull you in close his body. He then engulfed you with his big arms and Kung Lao’s once lethal hands, turned gentle as they rubbed your back. His entire being was warm, especially the crook of his neck where your head rested. Though a bit musky from training, his scent was a subtle woodsy spice. One that made you instantly sink deeper into his embrace and faded away your previous anxieties.

“You don’t have to worry about anything. The Great Kung Lao is mighty enough to protect you in his sleep.”

With him you were always safe. Even in the darkness parts of your mind, he’d come to save you from it.

[ode2rin]

all of you, all of me intertwined

pairing. itoshi rin x gn!reader

genre. fluff | pro-athlete!rin | established relationship | light angst (it’s light, trust me) | a bit of hurt/comfort

warnings. 1.4k+ wc | characters are aged up ! | heavy in narration | profanity | pet names

note. i laughed a lil bit too much reading abt rin’s morning routine but then became completely sappy at the thought of it changing as he found love ;) | not proofread pls forgive me  | it’s inspired from another ts song i owe her my life i’m sorry 

in which: rin finds solace in the present with you, as the memories of his past mornings gradually fade away

itoshi rin, a man of routine, is always up before you, like clockwork.

perhaps it's the athlete in him, or perhaps it's because you slumber like a log. regardless, he never moves an inch after waking up. he remains still, holding you so close, taking in the sight of your peaceful form beside him.

gone are the days when he would rush to the window to let in fresh air or head straight to his closet for his yoga routine. gone are the days that he would relive all the rage and hatred that sits freely in his heart. and, gone are the days of being consumed by the darkness that once plagued his mind.

now, his first thoughts are of you. he revels in the warmth of your skin and the gentle rise and fall of your chest, basking in the tranquil moment of your shared existence.

it's moments like these that make rin marvel at the divine forces that must have sent you in his way. because frankly speaking, he believes that he didn’t deserve you at all. not with his snarky and prideful demeanor did he deserve any of the bright smiles you threw at his direction. rin is not a believer in fate, but sometimes he can't help but think that the universe must be conspiring against him. 

after all, how else can he explain the intensity of his love for you? he loves you so much that sometimes it physically hurts.

it physically hurts to be away from you, it aches to not hold you so close, it cuts not to hear your laughter at the end of a tiring practice. and maybe he’s being dramatic, but can you blame him? 

he loves you so damn much that it scares him. rin knows, in his heart, that if he fails to protect the life you share, he'll never be able to recover from it. the universe be damned because there is no way in fucking hell would he be able to wake up and breathe the same way again. he’ll not only revisit rage and sadness but live every single day of his life revisiting moments with you. he'll be haunted not just by anger, but by every memory of you. 

your love scares him to that extent, and yet he chooses to live with this fear rather than live a life that there is no you. a life where he doesn’t wake up beside you sounds so much scarier than being benched at a game, more terrifying than all the horror movies he's seen combined.

this same fear was even louder in the beginning of your relationship. that, he admits. so loud that it spoke to you in the form of harsh words coming from rin’s lips. he threw so many lines of poison made in sadness and insecurity mistakenly draped in anger.  the rin you first met was just twenty-one, young and full of anger. or was it really anger? maybe he thought so. or maybe he couldn't admit that it was betrayal and sadness. maybe he chose anger to mask his sadness, and somewhere in between, he forgot the difference.

at sixteen, rin started living a life grounded with rage and vengeance. stopping at nothing to prove himself better than his brother. at twenty-four, he can't help but wonder how a life driven by hatred and ego brought him to this safe haven, this sanctuary in your loving arms. perhaps it took that much rage to find this serenity.

he wouldn't change a single thing that led him to you, but if there's one regret, it's that he didn't let himself to love you sooner. he wishes he let himself bask in the radiance of your eyes more willingly. 

because the younger rin deserved just as much as what he’s having right now.

as you slept soundly, rin found himself lost in thought, reflecting on the past and the many mistakes he had made. feeling a bit nostalgic, he leaned more into you and held your jaw to trail kisses on your face. as his lips touched your skin, you stirred in your sleep and opened your eyes to see your teal-eyed lover gazing at you dreamily. you couldn't help but tease him at how uncharacteristic he’s looking at you right now.

“is this your new way of waking me up?” you asked, a playful smile on your face. sleep still evident in your hoarse voice.

rin looked a bit shy at being caught, but he replied with a chuckle, “no, of course not.”

you knew he was lying, though. rin was a man of routine, and he always left kisses in your face in the morning, like clockwork. you decided to let him keep his secret, though, and snuggled up closer to him, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.

“why are you still in bed, baby? what happened to yoga and keeping your body healthy and all that?” you asked with a grin, knowing how much rin prided himself on his health and fitness.

“is this your new way of making me leave?” rin countered, mimicking the playful tone you used at him.

you looked up to meet his eyes, “it’s too early to be this sassy, rinnie,” you playfully booped his nose which earned you a scoff from him, “besides, don’t you have practice today? you’ll be late.”

rin didn't say anything in response, but instead, he reached out to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. you felt his body mold to yours, as he intertwined his legs with yours and draped all of his weight on you. you let out a contented sigh as you leaned back into his embrace.

you could feel rin's warm breath as he hid his face in your neck, and his chest rising and falling with each breath. the softness of his skin against yours, the warmth of his embrace, and the steady beat of his heart were all consuming your senses. 

something is wrong.

rin clinging to you like this no longer surprises you because, much to his chagrin, rin is a closeted clingy lover and enjoys being held. but the tightness of his hold, and the rather slow beat of his heart is telling you that there’s something wrong.

slowly, you placed your hand on the nape of his neck and began to stroke his hair in a soothing motion. you could feel his body relax slightly under your touch, but there was still an underlying sense of unease.

“what’s on your mind, baby?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

rin hesitated for a moment before answering, “i was thinking of skipping practice today.”

“why? are you feeling unwell, rin?”

“no. i just miss you.” he says, his voice becoming softer at the end.

you felt your heart swell with his response. “i’m here, rin,” you reassured him, wanting him to feel the depth of your presence.

“i know,” rin paused, “you’re here.” he continued, sounding more like he was convincing himself rather than responding to you. 

as you looked at rin, you couldn't help but feel that there was something he wasn't telling you. you knew that rin was someone who valued his routine and getting ready for practice, so his behavior was unusual. you wondered if something had happened to shake him out of his usual rhythm. you pushed aside your thoughts, knowing that rin would tell you in his own time.

for now, you just have to hold him through it. “alright, baby. what do you want to do?” you asked.

rin's response was simple. “nothing, just want to be close to you,” he said, his gaze locking with yours.

a smile played on your lips. “not a problem for me,” you replied, pulling him close and cherishing the moment of closeness between the two of you. almost instantly, rin felt his body relax under your touch, as if all his troubles had melted away.

itoshi rin was definitely a man of routine, but forgoing his morning routine he would, if it meant more mornings like this, with his body and soul intertwined with yours.

because with you, gone were the days when he would stare out the window with a haunted look in his eyes, lost in his own thoughts. gone were the days when his mind was consumed by a vortex of rage and sadness. and gone were the days when he spent his mornings shrouded in darkness.

now, rin had found a new routine, one that revolved around you and the love you shared. and as you held him, he knew that this routine would last a lifetime. 

for as long as he could remember, rin felt his mornings become brighter with you by his side, like the first light of day after a long dark night. because with you, everything seems brighter, like daylight.

another note. this is super self-indulgent btw hehe i was having an awful week and just wrote this on top of the uni work whooping my ass. anw all is good ! i hope u enjoyed it as much as i did love writing this, i actually think i got a lil bit carried away... def not my best but oh well live love laugh rinnie lovers !!

[billskeis]

hiii! i really love your writings and im excited to see the new ones!

i was wondering if you could do a tom kaulitz fluff?

also no rush, i saw the new post so take your time!💜

ᡣ𐭩 shopping w tom

you and tom were out shopping at the mall, stepping into one of the stores, you look around to all the unfamiliar fabrics around you.

everything was so, tight-fitting.

you and tom had been dating for a while, and it has been going so well. you love him so much. however, for the time you have been dating tom, one of your biggest concerns as of now is that not once have you really wore anything feminine around him.

not that he cared.

tom was selfish, and very selfish in the fact that he wouldn’t want anybody else seeing the body you hid under the oversized clothes you wore everyday. in comparison to all the other girls tom has dated, they wore clothes that hugged their body snug, curves out on display 24/7.

not to say that you weren’t confident in your body, you very much were. you just found comfort in wearing clothes that didn’t have to suffocate you, comfort over anything. there were countless times you have been mistaken for a boy wearing clothes as such.

but for tom, he was the only person who could see your perfect body.

he was the only person who could relish in the true beauty you hid under all the layers of bagginess. he also adored how similar your styles were and that matching with each other was so easy, always buying two of the same shirts or sweaters for one another. he loved it a lot.

“what’s the matter?,” tom stands beside you as you hold the small, black body-con in your hands, the straps dangling off your fingers. “i don’t know if i like this, if we’re going out for dinner i want to be able to eat quite a lot. but this dress is soo gorgeous..”

he laughs at you and squishes your cheek between his thumb and index finger, you try to swat away his hand but he’s already dodging you.

“you are quite the eater,” he chuckles as you jokingly elbow the side of his body, smiling. “but whatever makes you most happy and comfortable, i will always love you and what you wear regardless.”

this man has you in a chokehold.

his way of words was so clever, whatever he said and did was always able to make your knees weak, you tilt your head at tom, staring, “i do want to be able to dress up for once..” biting your lip, tom’s eyes widen as he looks at you, the dress, and then quickly looks away. “mm, but baby you know how i feel about men.. they have no shame.”

“they can’t help but gawk their eyes at you even when you’re mine.”

he’s recalling the night were you were both out on a date, coming out the theatre from the movies. it wasn’t even anything dressy you were wearing but instead of a baggy t-shirt like you’d normally wear it was a crop top that showed off your midriff.

let’s just say it didn’t end well for that stranger, tom made it very clear who you were to him.

you pout, you weren’t upset at tom’s possessiveness, if anything it was quite hot. but you wanted to doll yourself up for your man. after all, he really deserves it for being the best boyfriend ever. “aw, but i really wanted to wear this tonight, it IS more for you than it is for me.” you smile innocently at tom who swallows hard, a little speechless at your words because you usually praise how you hate clothes like this.

what’s changed?

he imagines you in the dress, staring at your reflection in the full body-length mirror as you adjust the dress by the spaghetti straps. the dress sits right above your upper thighs, the whole thing showing off your cinched waist and chest. black was also such a sexy color, and it made tom go insane.

you definitely looked good.

as you fix your lip gloss, you bend your body a little closer to the mirror to see better, dress rising up a bit to reveal a bit of your butt.

snapping out of his imagination, tom stands behind you, snaking both his arms around your waist under your shirt, his arms warm. you feel yourself feeling a little hot and panic a bit as you’re in public. trying to escape the grip from him but to not cause a scene in the shop as you almost drop the dress on the floor doing so. he laughs at your attempts to get him off you and kisses your cheek quickly.

you grin at him, what is he doing? tom finally loosens his grip on you as he snatches the dress you were once holding and runs towards the cash, “hey—! what changed your mind?” you ask following behind him as you have a hold on his sweater like a pet-owner trying to control their dog. he stops in his tracks to look at you while the cashier rings up the dress.

tom brings both of his hands to each side of your waist, caressing it a bit while you simply just allow him. his touch is so familiar and comforting you cannot help but not stop him. did the both of you forget that you were in public? “hello? tom? you didn’t answer my question,” crossing your arms as he stops the movement of his hands now just staring at you and smiling brightly.

“wear that dress tonight, i can fight.”

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

𝗖𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗴

this one's pretty gross ngl lol

Summary: You thought you could get away with one more adrenaline rush before the mission kills you.

Warnings: DARK NONCON, SMUT (MINORS DNI), mentions of murder, rape, torture, and necrophilia, serial killer!reader, sexual violence, slapping, punching, misogyny, blood and pain kink, degradation, humiliation, oral (m!receiving), (painal) anal, ass to pussy, forced orgasm, creampie, and death

word count | 3.2k🤙🏻

As you sat staring at your own reflection in the two way mirror across from you, your hair a mess and dried blood lightly splattered across your face, sticky hands cuffed to the cold metal table, you started to wonder what led you here in the first place.

You were never abused or neglected. You didn’t have any head injuries growing up. In most ways, you were a perfectly normal girl. Your parents loved you, you had friends, a steady job that made you good money, so how the hell did you end up here?

You thought back to your childhood. You had witnessed many of your parents’ arguments, perhaps that was the cause? Or maybe seeing one too many horror movies? Listening to the wrong type of music? Were you just born with a screw loose? There had to be some sort of explanation for why you would have committed such horrid, atrocious acts. Maybe you’d never know. Perhaps it would be better if you didn’t. Maybe there was no need for closure. Maybe you just wanted an answer more for your loved ones than for yourself. You could live without it, but your parents? You knew they definitely would need one.

You felt as though you should be terrified at the fact you were being held in a police station. Any moment some detectives would walk through that padlocked door and expect you to give them all the answers as to why you did what you did, to give them some sort of clarity and insight. But you still had no idea what you would say, sitting in that uncomfortable stiff chair for what felt like hours you couldn’t even come up with an answer to yourself.

That wasn’t the worst you were dreading.

How do you look your mother or father in the eyes after something like this? How can you even be in their presence? It’s a different kind of pain when your mother or father is crying because of you, because of something you did. The disappointment, the disgust, the fear. How do you go from your father’s little girl or mother’s precious baby to this, a murderer? Would they blame themselves? Probably, even though it wouldn’t have been their fault. You knew this too, it could never be your parents’ fault. They did the best they could, which is all anyone could ask for. But facing them would be the hardest thing you would ever have to do. You saw the way they looked at you, like you weren’t their daughter anymore. You weren’t really, the daughter they knew wouldn’t have done what you did, had been doing for months. They didn’t raise you to be this way. You were an anomaly. You weren’t their child anymore, you were nothing to no one. Just another killer that needed to be behind bars, or better yet, a lethal injection.

You were destined to die, from the minute you were born. You probably deserved it, you did deserve it. Though death didn’t come by way of a lethal injection or prison violence like you assumed it would, no, it was much more interesting.

You never thought about what space was like, pondering the what if questions was never something you wasted your time on. But upon being assigned a space mission as a punishment, you were forced to wonder what it would be like. It didn’t seem like a punishment to you, you didn’t really care what happened to you mostly. It would be an elaborate way to die, that much you were sure of. Theatrical, is one of the first words that came to your mind. You weren’t scared, not much did scare you after all. What did slightly worry you, however, was the fact you’d be on this mission with several other individuals, most if not all of them there for the same reasons as you. Murderers, rapists, terrorists. What a motley crew it would be.

You knew Monty, through word of mouth. The two of you were in the same prison, segregated by gender of course, but you had heard of him. You could appreciate a familiar face in a very unfamiliar environment. He didn’t talk to you much, only when you both got assigned the same work detail. You both had strong similar opinions about the witch that played doctor and mad scientist that was on this mission with you all. You may or may not have made an agreement to eat her first if the station ran out of food. You might’ve considered him a friend, if you had the emotional availability for friends.

Who you never talked to, or even wanted to, was Ettore. Some kid done in for all kinds of sexual assault and violence, even some corpse fucking. I mean, if you’re desperate enough, you guessed. It’s not like you had any room to judge, considering. But even you thought the guy was a bit over the top. You were subtle, tried leaving no traces; Ettore was messy, no condom, coming inside every girl he forced himself on, his bloody fingerprints everywhere. Some people just weren’t smart enough to think of those things. Men hardly ever think things through. You didn’t know what he went through, but you didn’t find it in yourself to care. He was a monster, just like you.

Ettore stared at all the women on board, even the men sometimes, but you always felt his eyes on you. Maybe it was because you were closer to his age than all the others, but he just liked your appearance the most, but you didn’t appreciate it nevertheless. You thought about how pretty his shiny crimson blood would like coating your hands every time he made eye contact with you. Thought about how his gurgles would sound if you slit his throat, choking on his own blood.

You make promises to yourself. You say, you’re never going to do this thing again. You won’t ruin your life like this, you can’t. But then like all promises, you break them and you continue to destroy yourself and everything around you. It’s inevitable, like death. You crave and you ache and you feel like you can’t live if you can’t carry on with this obsession, you need to drown yourself in it. The pain of living with knowing that you’re a monster seems more appealing than the pain of never being able to fulfill that craving ever again. It’s a sacrifice you have to be willing to make. But the difference between people like you and normal people is that your cravings supersedes the want to be normal and live without guilt or remorse. You can’t have it both ways, and you understand that better than most. You figured Ettore knew that too, and that’s the only reason you started to take an interest in him.

Ettore never seemed remorseful for what he did, not like the others. The others had regrets, they wished to go back in time and change what happened, they never wanted to end up in space. Neither did you, but remorse wasn’t in your programming. Regret wasn’t something you ever learned. The world couldn’t handle people like you, not at that time.

You didn’t really know what you were looking for in Ettore, definitely not comfort, he couldn’t give it if he tried. But that’s not what you wanted either, you hated nice people but they were easier to take advantage of. You knew you wouldn’t be able to take advantage of Ettore, he’d be able to sniff that out from a mile away. You usually knew how to approach these things, how to approach your victims, but Ettore was different. He was like you, and you didn’t like that. You felt something you had never felt before; you felt threatened.

You and Ettore were assigned moping the station floors, a tedious endeavor, they’d just get dirtied up again. But this was your chance, to get rid of the threat once and for all. Dr. Dibs was a stupid cunt, for all those experiments she did, she couldn’t even spot you stealing one of her scalpels from her infirmary. Though, you figured she wouldn’t have cared that much anyway.

Ettore kept his eyes to the floor, mindlessly moping away at the tiled flooring. You removed the scalpel from the hiding place you made in your scrubs, gripping the handle firmly and plunging the blade down, aiming for the man’s neck. You barely made it halfway to your blade’s destination before Ettore grabbed your wrist, swiftly pinning you against the wall with a dark look in his eyes. You glared up at him, the feeling of having lost searing your insides.

Ettore easily overpowered you, holding both your wrists above your head with one hand and taking the scalpel in his other. He looked between you and the surgeon utensil with an almost amused expression. “Not the first time a woman’s ever tried to kill me.” He mused, “I’m sure that comes as a shock to ya.” His dry sense of humor didn’t sit well with you, though you didn’t have much of a sense of humor to begin with.

Instead of giving you a taste of your own medicine and killing you like you thought he would, he simply tore the blade through your scrubs top like it was second nature, exposing your breasts, your nipples hardening against the cold space station air. You heard him hum in appreciation, eyeing up your tits like they were a meal. “Not the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, but they’ll do.” You didn’t have time to be offended before asking yourself, ‘they’ll do’ for what?

You were suddenly slammed on the floor, your back hitting the tile hard, Ettore above you predatorily. “Get off me, you dick!” You seethed, struggling against his grasp.

Ettore pursed his lips, shoving his knee between your legs. “Nah, don’t think I will. Been wantin’ to have my way with ya for months. Thinking ‘bout your tight little holes every time I used that fuckin’ box. Don’t need it now.”

“Dibs will find out.”

He raised a brow. “Do you think that’s something I care about? Can’t imagine she’d be too thrilled about you tryna take a stab at me neither. Just shut your mouth and do as you’re told, and we won’t have any problems.” And just for good measure, the man atop you threw his fist across your face, blood and a tooth splattering to the once freshly cleaned floor. He groped at your breasts roughly, surely leaving bruises that would stay for awhile, if you even made it out of this encounter. You spat the rest of the blood that pooled in your mouth up at Ettore, watching the viscous fluid paint his fair complexion. “Bitch.”  He spoke simply before ripping off the rest of your clothing and moved up to straddle your chest, his hardened member hovering right above your face. “Suck. Better feel no teeth or you’ll lose ‘em.”

“Piss off!” Ettore smirked as he muffled your protests by shoving his cock inside your mouth, thrusting with abandon, your whimpers and choked gasps only spurring him on further. You felt like you were going to pass out, his dick blocking your airway, only getting barely enough just so you could keep going. You hoped he’d stop soon, but you’d soon regret wishing for that.

With a grunt, he pulled out of your mouth and flipped you onto your stomach.

“Ettore!” You growled, trying to escape the heavy weight of his body, to no avail. You let out a yelp as he landed a harsh smack to your ass, a new feeling of panic washing over you as you felt his hands spread your cheeks and hocked up a wad of spit on your puckered hole. “No-! Not there, please!”

Ettore chuckled darkly, “I like hearing ya beg, do it again.”

Your brows furrowed in discomfort as you felt the blunt tip of his cock press up against your ass, pushing every so slightly. You decided you wouldn’t give in to this vicious man, no matter what. He was yours to kill and torture, not the other way around. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. “Fuck you.” You yelled out in pain as Ettore forced his cock in your ass to the brim, his thickness bringing tears to your eyes immediately, the unfamiliar pain almost unbearable. “Stop!”

“Nah, sweetheart, you asked for it. And I’m gonna give it to ya.” He grunted as he pulled out, only to push back in roughly. You cried out in pain as you felt your tissue tear inside, your own blood acting as a lubricant so Ettore’s cock could slide in and out more easily. Each thrust added another wave of pain throughout your entire body, sweat beading along your forehead and shivers going up your spine that hit the base of your skull. You hissed as he pinned your head down to the cold tile, your tears and sweat mixing and creating a puddle that you’d be forced to clean up later.

“H-Hurts…” Was all you could say, and when you thought the pain would go away, Ettore would just speed up his thrusts, tearing away at you for his own pleasure. You felt his cock throb inside you, pulsing as he finally came with a grunt, forcing his seed deep inside you.

You whimpered as he pulled out, his cum mixed with your blood pooling into another puddle of pain. You wondered if he was done with you. Was he exhausted of you? Ettore inadvertently answered your silent question when he flipped you over on your back, his blood covered cock still hard and standing at attention. “I’m almost tempted to make you clean up your mess here…” He smirked, “but I wanna fill up that pretty pussy of yours, have you leaking from both filthy holes.”

You growled, trying to kick at him only for him to force himself between your thighs. “You’ve had enough, Ettore, now let me go!”

Ettore furrowed his brows. “Enough? No, it’s never enough.” You let out an involuntary moan as his thick cock slid right in your cunt, not for the blood but your own slick making it a welcome intrusion. “Fuck, so wet and tight. You sure you’re not getting off on being taken like this, luv?” No, absolutely not, but you couldn’t really teach him a lesson about the body’s natural defense mechanisms at a time like this.

The harsh, sopping slaps of skin pierced your ears when it would’ve been an otherwise chillingly quiet hallway. It was peaceful at times, the silence deafening to the point it blocked out all the other noise, from outside and from within. Ettore had to taint that too. You felt like you were rotting from the inside out, each thrust his cockhead hit your cervix, making your toes curl and eyes roll to the back of your skull, an aching pleasure like lightning bolts shooting through you. Your loud moans were unavoidable when he pushed your legs back against your torso, making his cock hit deeper, his thrusts picking up speed as he kept hitting that sweet spot inside you. The wiry hairs that decorated Ettore’s pelvis rubbed up against your clit in tandem with his brutal thrusts, your orgasm creeping up on you like a curse. 

You clenched hard around him as you came, earning a deep groan from the man, his seed spilling inside you. Perhaps in different circumstances, coming together would’ve been romantic. But alas, you had nothing but pure hatred for the man that was now trying to catch his breath above you, keeping a bruising grip on your legs as he came down from his high. Surely, he was done now, right? “You liked that, did ya? You want more, hm? I can give you more.”

You gave up trying to protest, knowing that it would only make him want you more, so you kept your mouth shut as he flipped you over again, entering you from behind. Your hands shook as his cock pile drived you, his body weight squishing you against the floor, your insides aching as the force of his thrusts moved them around. Unfortunately, you felt another orgasm bubbling up inside you, a growl escaping you as you felt betrayed by your own body. “Fuck!” Ettore moaned, “Your cunt’s squeezing me so fuckin’ tight. You fuckin’ love this cock, don’t ya, slut?” Rage coursed through you like your orgasms did, your moans and whimpers echoing the halls along with Ettore’s. Fuck him. Fuck this situation. You’d rather be dead.

Something shimmering caught your eye, your gaze shifting to spot your long forgotten scalpel laying just a few feet away from your body. If you could only reach…

“Mmm, maybe I’ll fuck a baby into you, maybe Dibs will give me special treatment as a reward.” Ettore chuckled darkly. “Maybe she’ll let me fuck you whenever I want.”

“Fuck you.” You spat venomously, yelping when Ettore suddenly flipped you over on your back and gave you a harsh slap.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch, and take this goddamn dick.” And when he raised his hand to deliver another slap, you opened your mouth and clamped down on his fingers with your teeth as hard as you could. 

Ettore let out a satisfying yell, the tangy taste of his blood coating your mouth and arousing you like nothing else could, his flesh tearing and bones beginning to crack and fracture before he pulled away, clutching his injured hand. You quickly kicked him in his lower abdomen and then his chest, successfully shoving him to the floor, giving you the chance to grab the scalpel. You sliced open your palm as you grabbed the wrong end in a rush, stinging pain and adrenaline surging through you.

You screamed as Ettore pounced on top of you, trying to grab the tool from your hands, his fists beating down on your back and arms. You elbowed him in the side, hearing him gasp for air before you pushed him off, quickly straddling him, pinning his hands beneath your knees. “Fuck you!” You shouted in his face, bringing the blade down and plunging it into his stomach. “Fuck you!” You brought the blade down again, this time in his shoulder. With a pained yell and a groan, Ettore ejaculated beneath you, your pussy rubbing against his cock when you straddled him, giving him one last climax before you forced the scalpel into his neck.

You watched with a grin as dark, viscous blood poured out of his various wounds, him choking and gurgling on his own blood as it continuously filled his mouth. You couldn’t focus on anything else but the oozing tears in his flesh that you made, you didn’t notice anything else around you as you watched the life slowly drain from his eyes, his blood creating a large puddle that covered your own blood and his sticky spend, like it was never even there.

You lived for this. The feeling of taking someone’s life. It took a while to get that feeling back, a lot of effort and pain, but it was worth it. Even when you were caught by the other crewmates and Dibs, even when Dibs tortured you as punishment, the other prisoners shoving you outside of the airlock chamber for their own safety…

…it was totally worth it.

sorry, i love my happy endings🤷🏻‍♀️