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trippinsorrows · 6 months ago

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with me + part one

authors note: well, i got some type of writers block working on two other RR wip's so opened a new google doc and ended up with this. prob gonna be 3 parts, maybe 4. there's an almost five year time jump after this one, can you guess why? also, joe's wife is an oc, not galina.

first time posting my roman writings on here and trying not to freak out tbh

warnings: angst, infidelity, language, suggestive content

song inspo: with me by destiny's child

word count: 4,000

You know that assignment everyone at some point in their education where they research what they want to be when they grow up and share it with the whole class for a grade? Yeah, that big mammoth of a question that somehow you’re supposed to have confidently answered before even reaching double digits.

That was always super easy for you.

From as far back as you can remember, you wanted to be a teacher. It took until you were in middle school, almost high school for you to settle on an elementary school teacher, college for a specific grade. But, the teaching profession always called to you.

You chalk it up to your grandmother, undoubtedly one of your favorite people in this entire world. She was also an elementary school teacher who taught until she was expectedly called home when you were 14. Some part of you wonders if you’ve never even allowed yourself to entertain any other professions because of her loss. She was your best friend, and following in her footsteps was wanted but also felt somewhat necessary. Like you had to in order to honor her and her legacy.

A couple years into your career, you still think about that, how you’ve known from such a young age what you wanted to do with your life. Well, one part.

In other areas, maybe the most important areas, you were lost as all of the outdoors. Mostly in one area, if you’re being honest, and truthfully, it’s not even what you want in as much as it is how you get there. The path is relatively simple: find a man, fall in love, get married, have babies, live happily ever after.

It’s such a stereotypical trajectory, but one you’ve also envisioned for yourself since your late teens. You’d gotten partying all out of your system during the early college years, somewhat in high school as well. Now in your mid 20s, soon to be late 20s, all you want to do is prepare to eventually settle down. Sooner rather than later.

And the issue isn’t even having no prospects. You have a prospect, he’s just unavailable.

Because he’s already fucking married.

But can you even call him a prospect when that implies there’s some chance? Because there’s zero chance. You know this. You know this very well, too well. So why you still allow him into your bed and inside of you is beyond you. Yes, the sex is out of this world, but you desire more than that. Maybe not at first, but almost three years deep into this arrangement, most definitely.

You still think back to your first meeting.

Your best friend won a contest that not only granted her two front row tickets to a Smackdown show but backstage passes as well. You met so many wrestlers that night, some you grew up watching on TV as the little tomboy that you were as a kid. But, it was one wrestler in particular: tall, muscular, hair more beautiful and silky than any silk press your beautician mother could ever style, that changed your life. Whether for better or worse remains to be seen.

He was attractive, extremely, possibly one of the most beautiful men you’d ever met. But, the attraction was short-lived when you spotted the wedding band on his left hand. You’d be lying if you tried to say that was when the attraction sizzled out. It diminished, but it was still there. Still, you didn’t think much of it, that was until you received a call from a number on your phone that you didn't recognize.

Why you even accepted the call is still a mystery. You never answered random calls, yet that one was an exception, an exception that resulted in you having an unexpected phone conversation with Roman fucking Reigns. He explained that he got your number from your friend who’d exchanged contact information with a wrestler she met that night as well. They were messing around too, that much you knew. And good for her. He, unlike Roman, was not married and therefore free to fuck around.

The conversation lasted much longer than it needed to, especially given the flirtatious nature it quickly took on. It was wrong, you knew this well, very well. He took vows, but you were also aware of those vows. And heat no point pressured you into anything, you could have cut it off. Flirtatious he was, but forceful he was not.

The conversations increased in frequency and length over a matter of weeks that turned into months, and before you knew it, your day started and ended with either a text or phone call from the wrestler.

A small part of you knew that it would eventually escalate into more, a man like him seemed like he needed more. But, you stupidly tried to tell yourself that when that time came, you would remain strong and draw the line in the sand with just communication. Even if it was just as wrong as anything else.

It was a silly thought.

Your resolve was weak.

You absolutely did not need to accept his invitation to fly you out to one of his shows, and you damn sure didn’t need to allow him to take you back to his hotel where your legs ended up wrapped around his waist as he pounded into you—among other things—until the early hours of the morning.

The days after that were rough. You felt absolutely disgusted with yourself. It was one thing to flirt with a married man, but it was an entirely different thing to fuck a married man. He wasn’t yours. He belonged to someone else. He had a life with some other woman. You had no right to insert yourself into that union, so you decided to sever contact with him, deleting his number from your phone and shoving the experience in the ‘biggest regret of your life’ box with no intention of reopening it.

Unfortunately for you, Roman, Joe, as he asked you to call him, was a persistent bastard.

You ignored his texts, so he called. You ignored his calls, so he texted. You ignored both, and this motherfucker showed up at your goddamn door. There were multiple times you could have and should have ended things, that being another perfect opportunity. If you told him to leave that night, not allowed him into your apartment, he would have listened. He was stubborn and resolute but also respectful. If you told him to leave, really told him, he would have done so.

But, you didn’t. You allowed him into your place and similar to the last time you were in his presence, ended up spread out on your bed with him balls deep inside you until you couldn’t feel your lower half.

Now, fast forward three years later, not much has changed. You two don’t communicate quite as much in the day, and his visits are more spread out given the company’s current efforts at pushing him as the new face of the company. But, that doesn’t stop his visits to come see you and flights he puts you on to come see him, both of which always end with him leaving your legs jelly and throat raw.

All the while his wife sits at home unaware of her husband’s consistent residence between your legs.

The thought alone makes you sick, revolted at yourself, at how you’ve allowed yourself to reach this point in life. Closer to 30 than 20 and going on 3 years of being a mistress to a married man, a man who can never give you the future you want yet refuse to let go.

Not that you’d ever allow yourself to really acknowledge why.

That’s….that’s just too much.

________

Pillow talk was just something that naturally happened between the two of you. It made sense given that your relationship started out with just talking. He seemed interested in knowing more about you, about your likes and dislikes. He shared his as well. You weren’t beyond admitting that Joe was insanely easy to talk to, the flow of conversation always natural, never forced. There never seemed to be a dry spot between you two.

And whether it was an innate ability to pick up on the emotions of others or just his, you could always tell when something was bothering him, could see when he came to you with a burden he didn’t want to discuss.

Not that that stopped you from asking. If he declined to talk about it, you respected it, didn’t push. But, more often than not, he would end up sharing things with you, mostly concerns regarding his career.

It seemed he visioned one thing for himself, while Vince McMahon saw another. He felt frustrated at times, especially when the fanbase started pushing back more. He never admitted as such, but you could see it hurt his feelings. How could it not? Kayfabe or not, Joe was still a real person with real feelings, regardless of the role he played.

And at some point, his visits to see you stopped always involving sex. That happened majority of the time, but there were occasions when he just seemed like he needed someone to be around, a distraction, someone to talk to.

Someone like you.

“Come on.” You jumped up off the couch and offered your hand that he looked at with disinterest. “Don’t make me drag your big ass. It’ll probably break my back.” He lifts his brow, and you roll your eyes. “Joe, come onnnn.”

“Where are we going?” He finally asks, all the while sighing heavily and standing up. Though unnecessary at this point, he still takes your hand. You try not to think too much of the gentle squeeze he gives.

“To my kitchen.”

Glancing over, he gestures with his thumb. “The place that’s like 3 feet away.”

You suck your teeth and shove against him. “Don’t be an ass. We’re gonna bake cookies.”

“Bake?”

“That’s what I said.” Though clearly skeptical, he follows you into the kitchen and watches as you start gathering supplies. “I spent a lot of summers with my grandma, and whenever either of us were having a bad day, she’d take us into the kitchen and we’d bake chocolate chip cookies. She’d always say there’s nothing a good chocolate morsel can’t cure.”

Reflecting on those memories, so fond and cherished, brings a despondent smile to your face.

His eyes fall on you, sensing the sudden sadness. “You miss her.”

“Every day….” Shaking your head, you make a conscious effort to not make this about you and your grief. “Now, we need music.” You settle on some random “cookout” playlist that aids in setting the playful mood. To your surprise, yet not surprise, Joe keeps up without struggle. He's a fast learner, easily following along to your detailed instructions and explanations. Things get messy at times, as one does when baking, but it only causes the two of you to share laughter. Especially when you ‘accidentally’ get flour on each other. For you, it was an accident. His was definitely intentional.

Still, between the laughter, light conversation, and New Edition serving as backdrop, it’s a sweet moment.

“And now we wait,” you announce, plopping down on the sofa. “Wrestler by day, baker by night. Who’d a thunk it?”

He chuckles. “I never knew you could cook.”

At that, you nearly choke on the water bottle you’d grabbed off the coffee table. “Me? Cook? No. Not at all. There’s a reason every thanksgiving, my family only asks me to bring the drinks. My mom is the cook. Grandma was the baker. I can make cookies and a few select items. That’s it.”

You can still hear your grandma’s voice in the back of your head, chiding you for never allowing your mom to teach you how to cook. It just never garnered your interest, even when they swore up and down you’d never find a husband without knowing how.

Maybe they were right.

He joins you in the living room, settling on the other end of the sofa. “Maybe I could teach you then.”

His words—and offer—suprise you. “You can cook?”

“Don’t look so surprised.” He rolls his blue eyes. Some days you love the contacts, others you hate them. Today is a love day. They make his beauty even more exquisite. “Because of the big age difference between me and my siblings, it was just me and my mom a lot of times. They were either out and about or had either moved out. She’d ask me to help her out in the kitchen, and I picked up on a couple things.”

“You’re a fast learner.” That much is very obvious, in several areas of his life. “Was it ever hard? Like, not really having them around?”

He seems to think about her question before answering. “Yes and no. The twins moved to Florida when I was like three, and we became close instantly. It was like suddenly having two new brothers. Obviously, they didn’t live with us, so they weren’t always around, and those times were hard, I guess. But the older we got, the more we did together.”

The Usos. Also wrestlers trying to make names for themselves. He really does hail from a legendary dynasty. “I get that. It was just me and my mom, and she worked a lot to support us, so that’s why I spent so much time with my grandma. And I loved it, but sometimes it got lonely not really having siblings.” You look over at him, studying this massive specimen of a man who seems so unsure of himself right now, unsure of his future. He’d hinted at such during their prep, but you bookmarked the comment to revisit. “It’s all gonna work out, you know.”

His gaze is on you, partially disinterested, mostly in disagreement. Joe knows what you're referring to. He chuckles, darkly, “you sound sure.”

“I am,” you counter calmly. Moving to sit on your knees, you continue, “no matter what it takes, you make them respect you. You can do it, and when you finally find your footing, you’ll be one of the best to ever do it. Mark my words.”

You’ve never been one to build up false hopes in anyone, far too familiar with the sting of disappointment. So every word leaving your mouth drips with sincerity. Joe is so much more than a “pretty face” or someone who got lucky by being born into a wrestling dynasty with a golden spoon in his mouth. He’s worked his ass off, you see how he works his ass off, so the last thing you’d want to witness is him become his own worst enemy by getting too into his head.

“You’ll see. They boo now, but pretty soon they’ll be cheering.” Moving to your knees, you lift your arms in a theatrical display. “Roman, Roman, Roman.” You yelp when his strong arms pull you into his lap, legs spread on either side of his thick thighs. “Would you let me hype you up? Like, damn.”

His smile, so beautiful and genuine, warms your soul. His spirits are lifted, and that’s all that matters. Joe’s hands are on your hips, palms massaging you through your shorts. You move your arms around his neck, resting on his strong shoulders “Thank you.”

It’s at this moment, you foolishly allow yourself to wonder. Wonder what it would be like for this to be the norm, for him to always return to your place when he has time off or in between shows. Wonder what it would be like to consistently be this safe space for him, to be in his corner and not just in the shadows, but in the light. To be supporting him ringside. To be his.

And for a second, you pretend. You pretend that you are his, and he’s yours. That this is your man, and you’re his girl. Just the two of you. Nobody else.

But the comedown from that is devastating, like a boulder sitting on your chest, a butcher knife to your heart. Because he isn’t yours. He never was, and he never will be.

Mood sullen, you lower your arms to separate yourself. “I should…” You clear your throat, climbing off of him. The air is suddenly too stuffy, the room too small. You need space. “I should go check on the cookies.”

Joe’s not stupid, far from it. You know that he has to pick up on your 180 in mood, yet he doesn’t pursue you, doesn’t ask questions, and you’re thankful for that. You need to not be around him right now, not so close, not so connected, not so in love.

You need to let him go. ________

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Joe’s in the midst of sliding his shirt over his head, sitting on the edge of the bed when your voice, low and quiet, stops him mid movement. “What?”

“I said.” You blow out a big breath, unsure why your chest suddenly feels so heavy. “I can’t do this anymore.”

At that, he angles his body so that he can look at you, assess your face. He’s a big eye contact person. “What are you talking about?”

Irritation piques. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Joe.” Gesturing between the two of you, you kick the blankets off and quickly reach for your t-shirt that got discarded last night. Being naked in front of him suddenly feels uncomfortable. “This. It’s done.”

He pauses for a second and then shakes his head, resuming his dressing. “Okay.”

His tone is dismissive, like he doesn’t believe you. Like he thinks you’re playing around. Of course he would be in one of those moods, where he’s more irritable, less receptive and fucking stubborn. “I’m serious.”

“I’m not doing this shit with you right now.” Joe gets up and continues dressing himself, prompting you to climb out of bed and move in front of him.

He can’t avoid his way out of this. You won’t allow it. It’s time to finally rip the bandaid off.

You’ve sat on this for the last two weeks, since he last left your apartment and you realized you’d stupidly allowed yourself to fall for this man. Fall for a man who walks around with a wedding ring on his left hand, who’s always had that wedding ring from the moment you met him. You’re not upset with him, not as much as you’re upset with yourself.

You grew up the product of an affair, felt the stinging pain of being rejected by a parent whose selfishness resulted in the creation of life, a life he wanted no part of. Seen how your mom literally begged your piece of shit father to be in your life, to play some role. Heard how he cruelly rejected her, rejected you, calling you your mother’s bastard. A mistake.

It devastated you so deeply that you still can’t really talk about it without getting emotional.

And yet, you idiotically found yourself playing the same role you used to judge your mother for: the other woman.

It’s a role you stepped in, and one you must now step out of.

“There’s nothing to do.” You run your hands over your face and shake your head. Choosing to have this conversation at almost 4 o’clock in the morning probably wasn’t the best move, but you also know that if you give yourself more time, you’ll find a reason not to do it. And you need to do this. “You have a wife, Joe. A whole ass woman who loves you and would probably let you fuck her just as much as you like to fuck me. Go be with her, and if not her, find someone else, cause I won’t be that for you. Not anymore.”

You’re not exactly sure what part of what you just said registered with him, but it’s obvious something did by the change of tone he takes. “Where is this coming from?”

“It’s coming from where it should have come a long time ago,” you answer, crossing your arms over your body. “This was never right, and I refuse to partake in it anymore. I won’t be your whore anymore.”

You didn’t expect hurt to flash in his beautiful eyes nor for him to move closer to you, that hurt intensifying when you back away. He can’t touch you. You can’t allow that, because all it takes is only touch, one longing gaze, and you’ll be putty in his hands. This has to end. “Is that really what you think you are to me?”

“I don’t know what I am to you, Joe,” you answer, honestly. It’s something you’ve battled back and forth with for nearly three years. Just what is it about you that keeps him coming back, keeps him in your bedroom, inside of you. At face value, it’s the sexual compatibility between you. Below the surface level though, there’s maybe more. You’ve never allowed yourself to venture there, and you’re certainly not about to right now. You know how you feel about him, but you refuse to really ask yourself how he feels about you. “And truthfully, it doesn’t matter, cause it doesn’t change anything.”

“So, that’s just it?” His voice is wounded, handsome face painted into a mixture of scowl and a frown. “Almost three years, and you want to throw it all away, for what?”

“For what…..Joe, you are married. You have a whole wife at home. Whatever issues you have that cause you to step out, work that shit out. Learn how to be with her. Cause I’m not doing it any more. I—I can’t.” Emotion imbues your voice toward the end, and you hate that shit. You don’t want him to see, to know, how much this has been eating you up as of lately. “I’m gonna be 30 in a few years. I want to be married. I want to have a family. I deserve that, and I’ll never have it as long as I’m messing with you, so I’ve gotta let you go.” You swallow the deep lump in the back of your throat. “And you’ve gotta let me go.”

This time, this time you can see the part that wounds him, that digs into his chest. You’ve gotta let me go.

Joe is fast, fast enough to move directly in front of you, large hands holding your face. He says your name, desperate almost. “Tell me what to do, tell me what you want, and I’ll do it. Just….” He stops, and you close your eyes, refusing to see if it’s his own emotions coming up. You can barely handle your own cascade of feelings right now and refuse to take on his. “I can’t lose you.”

What you want…..

What you want is for him to never leave. What you want is for him to stay with you, to be with you. What you want is for him to have never met Jadah, never married her, never committed his life to her.

What you want is for him to be yours and only yours, but what you want….is also what you can never have.

“I—I want you to leave, Joe.” The words burn your lips, scorch your throat, ache your soul. “And this time….don’t come back.”

You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, to see the result of your heartbreaking, even if honest request. It’s because you know seeing him hurt will only cause your resolve to crumble, and you can’t have that. You have to be strong, have to be the woman your mother couldn't.

So, you remain there, remain silent as he steps away from you, his touch vanishing. There’s such an emptiness in his wake.

It’s only when you hear the front door of your apartment shut that you finally feel it, the caving of your stomach, the heavy lump move from the back of your throat, the release of the loud sob you didn’t realize you’d been keeping at bay.

It’s when you finally allow yourself to feel all of the emotions of a woman who just told the only man she’s ever loved to leave.

If only you knew his departure was just the beginning of the rest of your life.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #black writers #wwe #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fic #arisnotebook

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storiesfromafan · 3 months ago

Note

Hear me out bennyxreader where they meet on readers birthday and Benny offers her a ride as a bday gift and he says “I ain’t got much, but I can offer you freedom” Like AGGHHH I might take my own spin on this when I can stop cackling at the thought, but I NEED NEED NEED to read your take on this scenario ❤️❤️❤️ p.s. only take this on when you can. I don’t want to make you feel obligated to do it 🥺

A/N: Well I finally did it, I finally finished and revised/edited my take on your request. As I told you, I didn't do it as if they met on the readers birthday, but an established friendship of sorts haha. I hope you like @strayrockette :)

I'm not sure what I think about this, but I will stick with it lol. Pls dont come for me if it's not that good lol.

Warnings: I took inspo from Sixteen Candles haha.

Birthday Girl

A birthday is meant to be a celebration of one’s birth. To be celebrated by those nearest and dearest to you. And that had been what you had hoped for. Unfortunately, that was not what you got. The week leading up to your birthday was chaos. Your older sister had come home with her fiancé. His parents, and both sets of your Grandparent’s, had come into town just the day before, for a family meeting/engagement dinner. Which was arranged tonight, on your birthday. So, this special day for you was now to be shared with your sister.

But your special day, was not special. It wasn’t even acknowledged by any of your family. Oh, you think they were too busy fussing over your sister and the engagement family dinner? No, I mean that no one – not even your mother, whom gave birth to you – didn’t even realise it was your birthday! No one wished you a Happy Birthday when you came down to breakfast. There were no presents waiting for you. Nothing.

Throughout the day you even dropped hints. You questioned if you looked older. You talked about last year’s birthday. You even mentioned liking a particular cake for your birthday. And absolutely nothing! They all forgot your birthday.

Once it sunk in, you spent the day on autopilot. Mixture of anger, annoyance and hurt. But you didn’t expect something like this to happen. Maybe more your birthday being toned down. Or something small during the day, as not to take away from your sisters engagement dinner, and do something bigger the next day. Any of that would have been fine with you. But nope. Not happening.

Then to add salt into your wound, your Grandmothers ganged up on you. They spent moments of the day giving back handed compliments. Such as you have such a lovely physique (Y/N), but you would look better in a dress! Show off that waist! Or you have such a beautiful face, but with some makeup it would enhance it. They couldn’t accept you were a woman who chose slacks over skirts, boots over heels. Or that you enjoyed getting your hands dirty working on cars and bikes. That last bit of information almost gave the women heart attacks.

You were a tomboy. Always have been. And your dad never minded, one less boy crazed daughter to raise. Rather he got to do male stuff with you, and you learnt some helpful and useful information from him. You were the apple of his eye, while your sister was your mother’s. And you were fine with it.

But back to the story at hand; your twenty-fourth birthday being forgotten. When it came to get ready to go to dinner, you were cornered by all the women currently in your house to for-go slacks, in favour of a dress. Reluctantly you gave in, you sister and mother being the ones to pick out a baby blue swing dress, that had a round neckline which showed a bit of collar bone. Your mother being the one to tie the bow at the back, saying how lovely you looked in the dress. Thankfully your sister did your makeup, just simple; light powder, mascara and a bit of lipstick. Half your hair was swept up, and held with a pearl clip. Finally, you were given a pair of flats by your sister for the night.

Now you looked like every women in that house, picture perfect feminine species. You didn’t hate how you looked, you thought you looked beautiful. But you hated how you kind of wanted this. But maybe your own version? Mixing feminine and masculine elements to better fit you.

Dinner went well. You got complicated by everyone that saw you, saying how much you and your sister looked alike now. Like this was a permanent fixture. And it soured your mood. Which was already lack lustre due to everyone forgetting your birthday. By the time dessert and coffee came around, you were done. Done with the jabs at your tomboy look, saying how you looked much better tonight. Done with how everyone fussed over your sister and her fiancé. And you were done with this day. You were ready for it to be tomorrow, an every other day.

When you all finally left the restaurant, all intending to go back to your house for a night cap, you were left to get a lift back with one set of Grandparents. So, as soon as you left the carpark you tried to drop hints on what today was. And just like your parents, they didn’t realise.

“Can you drop me off here?” You said with a sigh. “I don’t feel like goin’ home right away”.

Your Grandmother looked at you with annoyance. “But it’s your sisters engagement!”

Once again you sighed. “Oh I know. I’ve been reminded over and over all day, and tonight!” You’d just stopped at a red light, taking advantage of this and getting out, but not before getting the last word in. “It’s not like it’s someone else’s special day, or anythin’!”

You slammed the car door before storming away from them. Once there was a few blocks distance, you slowed down. Letting your anger fizzle out, replaced with sadness yet again. Grandparents aren’t meant to forget their Grandchildren’s birthday. Sad, hurt and feeling low, you made it to the bar.

There were rows of bikes, loud voices and music coming from the building. That was when you realised how you looked, like a doll. Groaning you knew the Vandal men were about to point out how girly you looked, and make you the butt of many jokes. Was it worth it? Or would walking home, then dealing with the drama there, be better? Knowing that you’d get a lecture for not only getting out of a car at red light, but being disrespectful too.

Squaring your shoulders and taking a deep breath you entered the bar. It was louder on the inside, voices booming in laughter all over the room. You started to make your way past bodies, looking for anyone to sit with. Then you spotted Kathy and a few other women. With a relieved sigh, you made you way over there.

But suddenly, a set of hands grabbed you by the waist, pulling you back with a laugh. “Hey, you lookin' for a man?”

You turned and saw it was Corky. He looked tipsy, and from the way he swayed a little, it was obvious. Then his face dropped in confusion. He even leaned in a bit. Then it hit him.

“(Y/N)?!” He asked in shock.

You stood tall, projecting your usual confident and laid back nature. “Yeah?”

Then Corky slowly began to laugh, an amused look upon his face. “What are you wearin’!?”

Those that were around heard him loud and clear, their eyes turning to you both. Wahoo came staggering up next, placing an arm over Corky to prop himself up. When he turned to you, it was the same thing as with Corky, only he was louder and that drew even more attention to you.

Both males laughed at you. Asking if you lost a bet. You felt your face heat up at their words and all the attention. Thankfully Johnny came over, wanting to check out the commotion. Seeing you Johnny was surprised, but he was kinder then those before you, or the others that had joined in on their laughter.

“Alright, alright” said Johnny getting the men’s attention, and them to settle down. “Is this any way to treat a woman?”

That made the men laugh once again.

Johnny sighed before shouting. “Enough! Give it a rest. Ya don’t act like this with any other women. So, knock it off!”

The laughter died down yet again, and for good. You looked around at all the men, that was when you noticed the one person you had hoped to not witness this exchange: Benny. He stood not far from the pool table, his usual place to be. He and Cal shared a look, and a few words, before looking back to you. If you weren’t embarrassed before, you were now, since the man you’ve been crazy about since you started working at the bar, had seen everything.

Your first shift at the bar, thankfully started in the afternoon, before it got too busy. You had been given a run down on how to run the bar, where everything was and advised to not show any fear to the men. With that you were left to tend the bar, while the other employee sorted out the supplies in the back. You had just been serving beers, which was easy. You had just given Cal his beer when you herd the most heart stopping gravelly voice.

“Beer please”.

You grabbed the requested drink, popping the lid before placing on the bar before the man. When you lifted your eyes, they met the most beautiful stormy blue eyes. Those eyes held you in place, your brain forgetting to function. Then you noticed his gorgeous face; his jawline that was covered in stubble, full lips. Let’s not forget the messy blonde locks on his head either. Over all a stunning man.

He took a swig of the beer before nodding, “thanks”.

And he was off back to the pool table. Clinking his bottle with Cal – by the jukebox – in passing. You watched Benny and another Vandal play a game of pool, in between serving customers. You admired his arms every time he took a shot. Or how he would focus on the ball he was aiming at. You were completely smitten with him.

Over time you got to know Cal, after he mentioned building bikes. From there you were able to see his work, and eventually work on them too. Cal was nice, like an older brother to you. And being that you both were close, he’d bring you into conversations when you were walking around cleaning tables, collecting bottles and glasses. That was how you got to talk to Benny.

Benny wasn’t one to talk much. But he’d tell stories, and you’d listen to every word, hanging on for dear life. What surprised you was when he would listen when you talk about working on bikes with Cal. The way he would look at you as he listened, it made it hard to keep your thoughts in check and your tongue moving.

There were a few times both Cal and Benny stood up for you. A few other Vandals laughed and made jokes when you’d been talking about a particular bike that Cal had you help him with. Their comments were sexist and crude. Both men did not take kindly to it, and helped their club mates change their tunes. Fists were thrown, and black eyes on faces. That was the day you knew Benny was a friend. Even if just that hurt your heart, because from that moment you’d fallen for him.

“Now then” Johnny said, bringing you back to him. “Don’t ya all have somethin’ to say?”

You had thought it was an apology. How wrong and surprised you were.

It was like every Vandal and Vandal adjacent was watching you and cheered: “Happy Birthday!”

You stood there shocked. Of all the people to wish you a happy birthday, you didn’t think a bar full of bikies would be them. You found it hard to speak, feeling overwhelmed. But a warm, happy smile broke out on your face, and then you laughed.

“Thank you!” You said sincerely.

Johnny smiled, as he patted you on the back before walking off. Slowly the men around you returned to what they were doing. You looked to Cal and Benny, who smiled and raised their beers at you, before going back to the pool table. Taking a deep breath, you quickly moved over to Kathy and the women.

“What an entrance” she commented. “And who would of thought these animals could be nice, wishin’ ya a happy birthday”.

“Yeah, I’m surprised” you said shaking your head.

“Johnny heard it was ya birthday, and told all the men to be nice and say it if ya come in” replied Betty. “But I didn’t expect that”. She laughed.

You figured Johnny did it to defuse the situation, or the joke of you being all dolled up. You could see men around the bar looking at you, whispering to each other and then laughing. You knew they were making jokes. None of them had ever seen you is anything but t-shirts, slacks, boots and dirt, and grease.

Thankfully the women around you changed the topic, and you all talked about anything and everything. It was nice. Forgetting, even for a little while, what had happened leading up to this moment. You felt a little more relaxed, and when Cal brought you a beer, that helped too. Actually you got a few beers from various Vandals, with another happy birthday.

“So, tell us about ya birthday” Betty said, putting her pop bottle on the table. “Did you get spoilt” she giggled.

You felt like a bucket of water had been thrown over you, washing away the little joy you had managed to feel. Only now to be reminded of what your day was like. You stiffly took a swig from your beer bottle, eyes down cast and face blank. All the women shared a concerned look.

“Ya alright?” Asked Kathy, placing a hand over yours when it came to rest on the table.

You shrugged. “It wasn't the best...”

“Wanna to talk about it?” She asked you softly.

And that began the retelling of your day. Starting from when you got up to jumping out of your Grandparents car. You expressed how hurt you had been for being forgotten, as well as pushed to the side for your sister. How the women of your family had an issue with your tomboy attire. And how they had dressed you, like some child’s doll.

“I just...I can't believe today of all days they forgot its my damn birthday!” You said, voice thick with sadness and hurt. “I would have settled for a happy birthday from any of them...but no...”

The lady’s around you all shared a look. Kathy leant over and gave you a one armed hug, telling you how sorry she was you felt like this and it wasn’t right they forgot. You felt the tears rising but willed them back. Throat was tight and dry, so you downed the last of your beer.

“I need a moment to freshen up” you muttered, moving to stand.

You’d just gotten up and straightened out your dress, when Fat Jack – or Big Jack – and another Vandal came walking past. If you hadn’t stood up they would have past by no problem, but instead Jack bumped into you. Which made his buddy bump into him.

Jack growled in annoyance before setting his eyes on you. “Watch it Princess” he sneered. His buddy laughing.

“Ah, s-sorry” you stuttered, which never happened before. But with everything you’re feeling you couldn’t stop yourself.

He huffed. “Whatever Princess. Do us a favour and get ya girly mind out of the clouds. But I’ll say, this is a much better look for ya. More acceptable”. They both roared with laughter.

“Oh shut it” retorted Kathy. “And no need to be an ass”.

That made them laugh harder, and you crack more. Mixed with hurt and anger, you grabbed your bag before taking off through the bar and out the main doors. You heard Kathy calling your name but didn’t care. You were done. That was the last straw. You were a walking joke. Not to mention easily forgotten. Great birthday you had.

Crossing the road you felt a few tears escaped as you tried to keep yourself in check. Which was proving harder to do. You heard the bar doors open but didn’t pay them mind. Not until you heard your name being called. That was when you snapped, having enough of it all.

“What!?” You cried as you spun around with a glare aimed for whoever was behind you.

The person crossing the road to you was none other than Benny. Which for a moment confused you, before disappearing. Why was it him who had to come after you? And see you like this, a mess?.

“Ya alright? I heard Kathy callin' after you but ya didn’t stop” he said softly, concern written on his face. “I saw Jack and his buddy by your table laughin'”.

You laughed. “I’m fine, just dandy. And don’t get me started on that sack of shit”.

“What did he say or do? Tell me” Benny got serious, ready to go to bat for you.

You sighed in frustration. Frustration over everything, but currently Benny being here. Like he cared, like he cared for you. You back up laughing slightly like a lunatic.

“What do ya care? You’ve never cared before” you said in frustration.

“I care. I always care” Benny replied, face softening.

Once more you laughed. “Alright, ya want to know. He called me princess, and said this” – you gestured to your dress – “is a much better look for me. More acceptable. Then don’t get me started on my f-family”. You choked by the end, seething with anger but also hurting too.

Benny straightened, fists clenched. But it softened at the mention of your family. “What happened with them?”

You sighed, releasing most of your anger and allowing the sadness to seep back in. Remembering how they made you feel. “They forgot my birthday...no happy birthday, no present, n-no n-nothing...”

Half way through your explanation you began to cry, it all finally crashing down on you. You placed a hand over your mouth as you cried, holding in the noises that threaten to come out. You lent forward, tilting your head down.

“(Y/N)...” Benny said gently, trying to get your attention.

You looked up at him with your crying eyes. “I’m s-sorry...I must l-look a mess” you stated trying to pull yourself together, while whipping away your tears.

But it only made you cry more. That was when the unexpected happened: Benny pulled you into his chest. He wrapped an arm around your back, while his other hand cradled your head to his chest. For the next however long Benny held you, you cried into his chest. Hands gripping his t-shirt as you let it out. He rubbed your back, making soothing sounds. Had someone told you the day before you’d be spending your birthday crying on Benny, you’d have laughed at how unlikely it would be the happen. But here you were.

You pulled back from Benny, avoiding his face and his baby blues. “S-sorry...” you muttered, stepping back till Benny’s hands were resting on your shoulders.

“Don’t be. I get it. It’s been a shit day” he said with sympathy. “I’m sorry they forgot ya birthday”.

“Thanks...” you replied softly. “I guess I’m glad my Vandal family didn’t forget” you chuckled.

“Yeah, I told Johnny the other day it was ya birthday. He made sure to let the men know”.

You looked at Benny’s face with surprise. “You told Johnny?”

He nodded, moving to stick his hands in his jacket pockets. “Yeah, I heard ya mention it the other day...”

You looked at the man before you with astonishment. “Thank you, really”.

“It’s nothin'. Just a bunch of people wishin' ya a happy birthday” he chuckled. “I didn’t get ya a present” – and idea hit him – “I ain’t got much, but I can offer you freedom”.

Shooting Benny a confused look, he gestured his head towards his bike. He was offering to take you anywhere you wanted to go, to get away from the bar, from this night. You smiled at him and nodded, not trusting your voice. Benny began to walk towards his bike, you following behind him. He got on first, kick starting it to life. The roar was music to your ears, and soothing for the soul. Benny held out a hand, which you reluctantly took, before swinging a leg over the bike.

At that moment the bar doors opened, and out came some Vandals, including Cal, Corky and Wahoo. Among them was Kathy, who looked worried until she saw you with Benny. She was relieved to see you were alright, looking better then when you left. They hooted and hollered as you sat behind Benny. You blushed at them watching you both.

“Better tuck your dress under ya” suggested Benny. “And when ya done, better wrap your arms around me and hold on, yeah?”

You did as instructed with your dress, putting your bag between you both as you leaned closer to him. Wrapping your arms around Benny’s waist, you felt your face heat up more. Once your hands were secure, Benny put up the kick stand before moving from the curb. You could see Kathy’s amused face. As well as hear Cal and Corky yelling, one of them saying about time. Yet you didn’t get what they meant.

“Meet on the express way!” Called Corky.

With that you both rode down the street. Benny took you around the streets. Letting you get a feel for riding on a his bike with him, also to give the others time to get on their bikes and make it to the expressway. You enjoyed the feel of the cool air on your face, and how it made your hair fly. And you enjoyed being close to Benny. A man who had made sure the Vandals knew it was your birthday. You smiled resting your cheek to his back.

As Corky said, coming to the express way it wasn’t long before the Vandals joined you both. It was a sight to see, all the bikes together. The passing light of street lamps illuminating them, letting anyone see for a brief moment their bikes. Benny said he’d give you freedom and he did. You softly laughed feeling content for the first time today. And it was thanks to him and your Vandal family.

Once you’d run the expressway, the Vandals headed back to the bar, while Benny kept going. He knew you needed a longer ride. So he rode around until it was three in the morning. That was when he pulled up out front of your house. Coming to a stop at the curb, Benny put down the kickstand before turning off the bike, leaving the street in an eerie silence. You sat for a few minutes, just letting it all sink in. Then Benny held out his hand, which you took and were grateful for the help off the bike.

You staggered but thankfully Benny was there to grab your arm. Once it was safe to let you go, he did. He then got off his bike himself, but lent back on it, watching you closely. You smiled at him, not brightly but enough to know you were in better spirits.

“Thanks for that. It’s just what I needed” you chuckled.

Benny smiled warmly at you. “Any time, ya just gotta ask”.

You nodded your head, smile widening at his words. “I’ll hold ya to it”.

Now it was Benny who nodded and chuckled.

You had been thinking while on the back of his bike, and wanted to ask him what was on your mind. But wasn’t sure how. As if sensing it, Benny asked you what’s on ya mind?

“I want to know...why did you remember my birthday, and tell Johny?”

Benny laughed softly, eyes shining with amusement. “It’s it obvious?” – You shook your head – “Because I like you, (Y/N)”.

That surprised you. Benny Cross liking you. You wanted to pinch yourself but reframed from it. If this was a dream you don’t want to be woken up. You blushed, feeling shy all of a sudden. Which Benny found adorable.

“Really?” You questioned softly. “But I’m a tomboy...this is just a one off...”

Benny smiled brightly, getting up from his bike and moving before you. His hand moving to lift your chin. “I’ve always liked ya. Slacks, dirt, grease and all”.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. He liked you for you, and not the princess you were right now. Smiling brightly you lent up and placed a kiss upon Benny’s cheek. You stepped back, about to turn around and head to your front door.

But Benny’s hand grabbed your arm stopping you. He cupped your cheek before leaning down and pressing his slightly chapped lips to yours. The kiss was chaste and sweet. But still had you melting. Benny pulled back, running his thumb down and along your jaw as he gave you a soft smile.

“Now that’s a way to show someone ya like them back” he said amused. Which made you blush.

This time you stepped back and Benny let you go. He watched you walk to your front door before unlocking it. Standing in the doorway, you looked to the man of your dreams and gave him a beaming smile. With a goodnight from you both, you closed and locked the front door before leaning against it. You waited for the roar of his bike and the sound of him riding off down the street before you moved from your spot.

For a day that had been the worst, it ended on the best possible outcome. And you couldn’t wait to see Benny again. Or go for a ride with him either. As if you were floating, you went to your room and went to bed. No doubt dreaming about your dreamy Vandal.

#benny cross x reader #benny cross x y/n #benny cross x you #the bikeriders x reader #austin butler x reader

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11oh1 · 4 months ago

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pinkaquaparade · 1 month ago

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Cute / kawaii nails inspo / mood board !!

I’m going on Holiday on Saturday !! I’m actually more of a tomboy irl so I don’t really wear nails, but they’re cute! I proabbly would but they’re just not very practical…

#kawaii #cutecore #agere blog #jojifuku #sfw agere #acrylic nails #aesthetic #moodboard #age regression #pink moodboard #sanrio #cute nails #pretty nails #cute

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lonestarents · 1 year ago

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Tomboy Back Home at Sunset - Fashion Inspo

Confident and Cool, this Tomboy arrives back in their city refreshed and renewed. The people in their life see them differently now. They have a relaxed expression, and pose with their stylish roller bag...

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choccy-milky · 10 months ago

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Bro I’m kicking my feet in the air! The new chapter was so FREAKING GOOD!!!!

I’ve said this in the past but I LOVE the way you write Anne, ominis and the general fluff for this story and I can’t even begin to talk about your art and how much I smile when I see you post ❤️❤️❤️

10/10 I missed our normal pink flag Sebastian

BAHAHA AW TYY💖💖IM GLAD YOU LIKED IT💖 i love writing all of their dynamics not just clora and sebs, so im glad you like that as well 🥹tysm again🥹 and fr between my dark relic comic and my relic!seb art i been missing him too, all hail the return of the SLIGHTLY red flag/pink flag boi 🚩🩷🏳️🩷🚩

oh god idk LMAO. the climax is gonna be happening in the next 1-2 chapters, and then after that its gonna be summer stuff / epilogue with a bit of seb and clora as curse-breakers and what thats like, but i have no idea how long itll be BAHAHA, i am starting to get a bit self-conscious about the word count and how big my fic is tbh LMFAO so im glad youd be fine if it went on forever LOOL💖💖

@oneofafew NO BAHAHA THEYRE NOT RELATED AT ALL, I DIDNT REALIZE THERE WAS ALREADY A LAWLEY IN THE GAME LMAO, maybe he can be his uncle or some shit, bc the lawley in the game is also an asshole. its funny too, bc when me and hogwartslegacypics were trying to find out what bully boi's ACTUAL name was by looking in the audio files of all the NPCS, we saw a "lawley" and i started freaking out i was like OMG IF I ACCIDENTALLY GUESSED HIS NAME RIGHT THATD BE AMAZING🤯🤯 but alas........no. no relation LOL

@slytherinsomniari IM GLAD YOU LIKED IT, TYY💖 and for the anatomical parts u mean the x-ray stuff? tbh its just a trope/thing that happens in hentai manga which is where a lot of my reference/inspo comes from when i draw nsfw stuff, and i always liked it, so i included it into my own art. as for how i can tell when theres too much....well there are certain sites you can always go to to watch an actual video to see what a 'normal' amount is, but WHO CARES IF ITS REALISTIC OR NOT I SAY, ITS ALL KINKY FANTASY SHIT, WHO NEEDS REALISM💪

@4ever2000lover LMAOO IF IT WAS UP TO SEB CLORA WOULD BE PREGNANT 24/7 I SWEAR TO GOD (until he realizes that means they cant bone as much) but tbh i actually only plan to make them have 2 kids, a girl first whos fiesty and a tomboy and takes after seb, and then a more softspoken boy who takes after clora🥰

#ask #i wanna turn on anons again but also i never realized how anxious i was of anon hate until i turned them off LOL #dont wanna make it sound like i was getting anon hate tho i wasnt 99.9% of all my anons were always lovely #im just easily anxious so it only takes 1 meaner one to make me all blehhhh #still will turn them on soon since as an anxious person i ALSO understand not wanting to send anything unless its anon LOL even if its nice

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allureasdiary · 5 months ago

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Currently ppl I've been using as muses & inspos:

• Rihanna

• Aaliyah

• Nicki Minaj

• Beyonce (in 2000s)

• Kendrick lamar

• Sharpay Evans

• Marilyn Monroe

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The main take away from all these ppl listed above is that they embody a certain self concept that I've felt called to embrace this year. Key themes such as standing up for myself, following my intuition & calling more, tapping into my dark feminine, enter my heiress/queen era, embracing leadership qualities, reflecting on my influence/how my character may impact others, not going back on my word aka standing on business, use negative energy as motivation.

Recently I had an encounter with an anon telling me something negative, I didn't give it much energy only a little however that alone made me feel something inside. A form of power when I did that. It felt good to stand up for myself and not just take the disrespect. Ive found myself feeling more positive when i did things i wanted to do rather than settle on what others wanted me to do. For example, me cleaning my room I share my room with my little sister which I despise honestly 🤦🏾‍♀️(currently manifesting new family btw), i had held off cleaning it because i felt as though since the mess is from her she should be the one tk clean it which only made me more irritated because i knew she wouldn't. Well i finally took things ibto my own hands and cleaned it all myself, I found myself not only feeling more vibrant but happier when I cleaned it the way I wanted it really reduced my stress. It's the same with my self care routine, when I did it the way I wanted a weight was lifted off my shoulders. It's only when I feel like my decision of how I may feel best is overshadowed and trampled over by outside opinions is when things tend to go south. I've felt the need more and more to break from boundaries and social norms and do my own thing without everyone else in my ear telling me what I should and shouldn't do.

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Rihanna:

○ When it comes to rihanna, recently I've found her rawness really drawing to me. Especially when she was younger. She isn't afraid to say what she wants. Recently she did a photosgoot and i was super drawn to it. She continues to embrace her rebel "bad gyal" image and I've found myself relating to it. As someone who has always been label the "good girl" the dark theme has been truly drawing to me. Even if it isn't just dark colors, but the regal sex appeal, the rawness, the unfiltered chaotic energy, it's very magnetic to me. She also falls in the vixen archetype, which is one of the archetypes I have from the feminine archetype quiz.

Aaliyah:

○Now...I'm gonna be 100% honest, Aaliyah definitely wasn't someone I'd think I'd relate to at all. I didn't know her 100% well celebrity wise since I grew up with ppl like nicki, Rihanna and beyonce. However after doing research on her here and there and taking notes on how she was as an artist and person I've found I've related to her more than anything this year. She carries a mystic air about her that in today's artists you can see many tried copying and replicating. She was quite literally the world's it girl and even now ppl still talk about how amazing and sweet she is. I love how she didn't tell everything but told alot about her. She respected her own privacy majority of the time. Also I connect alot with her aesthetic of having like a tomboy look but it still looks really feminine in a way. She was a trendsetter at its finest and was soft spoken as well which makes me like her even more.

Nicki Minaj:

○ Ms. Nicki minaj, nicki Lewinsky, nicki da harajuku barbie!! She has been my #1 inspiration and muse when it comes to a high self concept. Despite the things that's happen in her personal life and seeing how her career has transformed over the years one of the main takeaways I can see is that since day 1 she never stopped affirming that she in fact was the #1 queen and that there would never and will never be another one like her, after her, can't even replicate her. Even in her old songs she quite literally prophesied and solidified her position as the queen of rap for years to come. Regardless if you love her or hate her u quite literally can't deny it since no one in this world has done what she's done even the ones that's tried to, failed. She is the definition of having true passion in what she loves, having unwavering ambition and drive to keep going despite all odds going against her. She also had this motherly energy towards her fans that I appreciate especially in her early days. She's always loved the barbs and continues to show gratitude. Learning from that I could take away to always be humble but don't ever let anyone step all over u either. Also she's probably the best I've seen when it comes to self branding yourself. Literally the situation with ice spice is a perfect example with the wigs and flow she did. Nicki has curated her aesthetic and brand so well that literally even the littlest change on someone such as pink or bangs or ankle inched black bussdown hair is associated with her and her brand. Now nicki herself may not have created these things and yes there were ppl before her who have worn pink and long hair but none of them actually made it there BRAND their STAPLE PIECE it may have been a moment but it wasn't a LOOK and that's what nicki did. After learning from that currently I've felt to go in the direction of making my own "princess self concept", a smaller version of her "queen" like nature. (Since rn I don't feel like much of a queen at all and see myself as a baby queen, a princess. Its not time yet)

Beyonce:

As a fellow virgo she too has perfectionism and I myself am a perfectionist. I 100% respect her work ethic especially when it comes to her performances. She continues to wanna top herself and not settle no matter the heights. Another thing is her gold aesthetic that I've felt more and more drawn to. It just screams royalty, that's something I've felt more and more called towards as well. She literally turned herself into a star amd made sure she shined the brightest. I love older vids of her where she always wanted remain as honest as possible and u could even see on some of her facial expressions when she knew some stuff was bs or just wasn't up to par. For that I have to respect that and her heavy keen eye to detail. She tolerated zero room for disrespect and this could be seen in her bow down record and though she said no name all the hit dogs hollered.

Kendrick lamar:

○Now I'm ngl, after the drake and kendrick beef its made me have a ton for respect for him as an artist but it also made me do some digging back in his old music. After doing proper thorough listens, I noticed his humble character and down to earth nature. After the battle, I was really drawn to his straightforwardness. He didn't play any internet games and didn't sugar coat either. That leads me to my self concept. More and more I find myself feeling good when I just start telling ppl like it is, where my boundaries are, where I am with this and that person. Not only does it makes things less confusing for the both of us but it shows that there is just some things that I'm not ok with tolerating and I will say it as many times as needed until u realize that. I also took note of how in his music he tended to talk about actual issues especially within the black community. As someone who expresses myself through art, that is something we have in common. Using our forms of art to heal ourselves and those around us by connecting through our problems and fixing them. For example, his song father time was him talking about his daddy issues ans his wife telling him he needs therapy. Though the song was technically about the men, as a growing young woman with daddy issues I related to the song heavily. This is the same with his unreleased song prayer where he continually used examples of separating the art from the artists and how we as ppl shouldn't be idolizing the celebrity and then stop when we see them doing something bad, the main point is that they are no better than us regular folks and still do bad things and make mistakes also, however those mistakes shouldn't be a reason u should stop loving there art entirely because if that was the case then no celebrities should exist because they've all done something bad in there lives just like we have. For that, I can takeaways the power of not just being aware of others faults but our own as well. He even admitted himself he still has healing to do and that's something I can relate to. The value of not staying the same and growing into your highest self definitely adds to me working on a growth mindset rather than a egotistical narrow minded one.

Sharpay Evans:

○ I'm ngl when i was younger i hated her. I thought she was egotistical, arrogant and messy. Now that im older i can see that she wasnt 100% that way at all, she was confident in herself and knew who she was and was literally oblivious to anyone who didnt like it. She had her own signature to everything as well thats how u knew it was sharpay whether u saw cute kitten heels, glitter ink pens or fur. Even on graduation she stood out with her signature SE hat. And her fashion was always top tier and iconic regardless of how stressed out she was from gabriella she didnt allow herself to go a day without looking good.

(Honerable mentions to Regina George, Elle woods, Cher Horowitz. My fav blondie girl bosses)

Marilyn Monroe:

○ Last but certainly not least is Marilyn Monroe. I think I've connected to her on a deeper level not just because of her manifestation story but also because I have the best connection to her when it comes to the way I feel about beauty. Beauty and being in the spotlight is something I highly struggle with, simply because it's something I daydream about so much whether it's imagining me getting plastic surgery or just me waking up one day with my dream life. Knowing that even someone who's considered the most beautiful woman in the world felt insecure in herself as well made me feel almost more human with myself and how I look and act. I did research on her years ago and found old vids of how she would talk about how much she'd study herself from her mannerisms to the way her hands moves to how she sounds to her facial expressions and so much more to give off illusions of things, even in her iconic walk I think she trimmed one of her heels to give the illusion of her hips swaying. She literally studied and curated her entire persona until she became who she is known as today. Even then I saw a few later vids of her and how sad she seemed in the eyes. This not only taught me more on self branding but also the importance of self love as well. I have a feeling had she lived a bit longer she may would've grown deeper into that. However something I could take away was the importance of enhancing your qualities of yourself the best way you can and that's exactly what she did

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Anyway that's all for now darlings I have so many things in store for the future and I can't wait to share them all with u guys!! Xoxo, Allurèa

#msallurea #ms heiress #nicki minaj #rihanna #marilyn monroe #beyonce #my blog #girlblogging #girly tumblr #just girly things #allurea's diary

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