#╽📖 ⸻ 【forever and a day】

[inators]

           𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐀

                                        𝑶𝒖𝒓 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒆𝒔

[edwardslvrr]

IMAGINATION ☆ spencer reid

✦　　　.　　I NEED TO TELL YOU HOW I FEEL WHEN I SEE US TOGETHER FOREVER.

𝜗𝜚 spencer reid x bestfriend!bau!reader

Reader has been in love with Spencer since the day they started working together, but has been to scared to tell him when everyone around them can clearly tell she likes him, Spencer can’t until he does.

📖 yourname | new instagram post

liked by penelopegarcia, jenniferj & 87 others

yourname books, glasses and mismatched socks

view all 29 comments

drspencerreid mismatched socks were once considered lucky by sailors, who believed they’d ensure a safe journey at sea!

- ⤿ yourname wait, that’s so wholesome

- ⤿ drspencerreid they believed the odd pairing could confuse evil spirits and keep them safe at sea, isn’t that crazy haha

- ⤿ yourname i love that, tell me more later pls

emilyprentiss i don’t have a fun fact, but could use some new book recommendations :)

- ⤿ yourname oh yes, found some good ones so i will be sending you a new list

derekmorgan shoes on the table?? spencer reid how dare you

- ⤿ yourname was just me asking for a picture, let him be

ssahotchner the day we see you without a book in your hands will be the day spencer wears the same pair of socks

- ⤿ yourname well in this line of work i do need my sappy romances to get me through the day

- ⤿ ssahotchner that’s all getting you through the day?

- ⤿ yourname ??

view more comments …

📲 yourname texting spencer reid

📲 penelope garcia texting you

📖 drspencerreid | new instagram post

liked by derekmorgan, davidsrossi & 77 others

drspencerreid spent the weekend writing, buying books and playing chess. I put this down as a great weekend 🙂

view all 32 comments

yourname had so much fun this weekend spence!!

- ⤿ derekmorgan did you behave? ;)

- ⤿ penelopegarcia hope you didn’t do things i wouldn’t do

- ⤿ yourname can you two shush

penelopegarcia is this a soft launch?

- ⤿ drspencerreid a what?

- ⤿ yourname can you leave

jenniferj you skipped the film festival?

- ⤿ drspencerreid oh just didn’t feel like going anymore :)

- ⤿ yourname wait what film festival? you didn’t mention any spence?

- ⤿ jenniferj oh i should’ve been quiet🫢

davidsrossi looks like a good weekend, kid. hope you kids kept it safe

- ⤿ yourname ROSSI!

view more comments …

📖 yourname | new instagram story

📖 yourname | new instagram post

liked by emilyprentiss, penelopegarcia & 77 others

yourname life through my phone camera

view all 36 comments

davidsrossi looking cozy ;)

- ⤿ yourname don’t know what you’re talking about

derekmorgan last picture is yelling “just woke up after a sleepover” but that’s just me

- ⤿ penelopegarcia had the same idea

- ⤿ yourname i don’t like you guys

drspencerreid had fun playing chess with oscar 🐈

- ⤿ yourname oscar is asking for a redo

- ⤿ penelopegarcia oscar is? 😉

- ⤿ yourname leave??

view more comments …

📲 penelope garcia texting you

📖 drspencerreid | new instagram story

📖 yourname | new instagram post

liked by drspencerreid, derekmorgan & 103 others

yourname 30 started well

view all 54 comments

derekmorgan excuse me?

- ⤿ yourname you’re excused

penelopegarcia omg how?

- ⤿ yourname a wine too much and a secret too big🤷‍♀️

- ⤿ penelopegarcia FINALLY

ssahotchner been expecting this for a while to be honest..

- ⤿ derekmorgan not the only one

emilyprentiss jj owns me 50!!

- ⤿ jenniferj hate you

drspencerreid 30 and a lifetime x

- ⤿ yourname ❤️

view more comments …

[austinbutlerslovers]

Sugar Daddy

Label Mature 18+

Summary Drowning in debt with dreams on hold a handsome stranger from your past pulls you out of the daily grind and as your relationship rekindles he changes your life forever.

�� Masterlist

💝Romantic Smut 💝 Austin in unrequited love • savior complex • love lorn • childhood crush • reunited • generous benefactor /sugar daddy •slow burn • friends to lovers • gives you everything •dreams come true • reveals his true feelings • lovemaking • orgasm • aftercare

📖 Proofreader @purejasmine 💞

Sugar Daddy

The coffee shop hums with its usual morning rush, business people in tailored suits typing furiously on laptops, patrons snapping photos of their drinks, and regulars rattling off complicated orders over the clatter of steaming milk. 

You stand behind the counter, expertly maneuvering between the espresso machine and rows of shiny equipment, your hands moving with the precision of someone who’s done this a thousand times before. 

The café is one of the best in New York, a bustling haven for caffeine lovers, and you’ve earned your place here as one of its most skilled baristas. 

Your dedication to your craft earned you a feature in Coffee House Magazine as the ‘Rising Star Barista,’ a title that still feels surreal every time you think about it.

Your smile is polite but faint, masking the exhaustion of early mornings and the weight of your dreams deterred. 

Owning a café of your own still feels impossibly far away, buried under the reality of mounting bills and the shadow of debt.

You don’t notice him at first, not until you hear a smooth, low voice order an oat milk latte, a voice that feels strangely familiar. 

You glance up, ready to confirm the order, when your breath catches in your throat, because standing at the counter in front of you is Austin Butler.

He’s wearing a trucker hat low over his eyes, his face partially obscured, but there’s no mistaking him. 

The boy you once knew has grown into someone striking, almost unreal, his sandy brown hair just visible peeking under the brim, his chiseled jawline more defined than you remember. 

For a moment, you’re transported  right back to your childhood. Austin, the boy who once made you laugh until your sides hurt. 

The boy who made you feel butterflies long before you even knew what love meant. 

But that boy is gone. In his place is a man who looks like he’s stepped right out of a magazine shoot, otherworldly and utterly unattainable.

“A-Austin Butler,” you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper.

He glances around quickly, pressing a finger to his lips not to say his name, and as his blue eyes meet yours the realization of how rich and famous he is dawns on you, leaving you momentarily stunned.

You lost track of his career after his Disney days but had recently heard of him staring as Elvis and you were both proud and floored. 

You feel guilty now that you never watched it. You smile remembering how well he could recite pulp fiction ver batum when he played at your house after school. 

“You look great,” he says, his gaze sweeping over you with an appreciation that makes your cheeks warm.

“Thanks,” you reply, your voice hesitant, highly aware of your simple work uniform, your hair held back in a loosened ponytail from the morning rush.

He tilts his head, his expression softening. “Is this your place?”

“No,” you admit, your tone tinged with embarrassment. “I just work here.”

Austin frowns slightly, the memory sparking in his eyes. “But you always wanted to own a coffee shop. I remember you playing coffee shop all the time when we were kids.”

You grin at the memory, but then the ache of his words stir in you. “Dreams cost money. I’m not quite there yet.” You admit.

He studies you for a moment, then asks, “When’s your break?”

You check the clock on the register to confirm.“Half an hour,” you say cautiously.

“Perfect,” he replies, smile widening. “Let’s catch up.”

You nod, your heart racing as he steps aside to wait.

You set to work on his oat milk latte, feeling his gaze on you the entire time. When you finally place the drink on the counter, your fingers accidentally brush against his, sending a jolt of awareness through you.

“Thanks,” he says, holding your gaze for a moment before moving to a nearby table.

You dive back into the rush, the half hour flying by in a frantic blur of orders, clinking cups, and the hiss of the espresso machine. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him at his table, scrolling through his phone, occasionally looking up to survey the bustling café.

A few customers eventually recognize him despite his low cap. A group of fans shyly approach, and he obliges with a polite smile, taking a couple of quick pictures. 

The attention starts to ripple through the café, the buzz shifting as other patrons take out their phones to film or snap photos. You feel your stomach twist, worried about the growing attention.

Austin seems to sense it, standing and making his way back to the counter with an easy grin that somehow feels just for you. 

“I think I’m causing a bit of a scene,” he says, his voice low as a few heads turn to watch the interaction. “I’ll have to take you out for lunch instead. This isn’t fair to you.”

Your heart skips a beat. “A-Austin, it’s fine. You don’t have to—”

“I need to,” he interrupts, his voice quiet but firm, the conviction in his eyes making you fall silent. “You always took care of me as a kid. Let me take care of you now.”

Before you can respond, he tilts his head, “Can I have your number? So I can text you where to meet me?” He asks.

You hesitate for a moment, then nod, quickly scrawling it onto a piece paper and sliding it across the counter, and he takes it with a warm smile that makes you feel light-headed.

By the time your break rolls around, you find yourself anxiously checking your phone, unsure of what to expect until a notification pops up, and your heart pounds as you open the message:

Austin: Meet me at Alinea Bistro. It’s quieter there, and the food’s great. I’ll wait for you.

Alinea Bistro is a few blocks away, a sleek but understated place that’s known for its intimate atmosphere. You walk there quickly, nerves fluttering in your stomach.

When you arrive, Austin is already seated in a corner booth, his cap now gone, his sandy brown hair tousled perfectly. His blue eyes brighten as you approach, and a genuine smile spreads across his face filled with excitement.

“You made it,” he says, standing briefly to pull out your chair with a grace that feels both practiced and effortless.

“Yeah,” you reply, your voice quieter than you intend as you settle into the seat. “Thanks for… inviting me.”

“I couldn’t resist,” he says, his tone light but his gaze is steady, leaning forward slightly. “It’s been long…way too long, actually, and I wanted to catch up, without an audience this time.” He grins, his eyes lingering on you, warm and unwavering.

His words hit you right in the chest, and you offer a slow, hesitant. “Yeah…it has been a while,” your gaze drifting over him, taking in every detail.

His crisp white tee is tight enough to hint at the lean muscle beneath, his easy confidence radiating a natural, unforced charm. 

His blue eyes are deep and sincere, catching the light in a way that draws you in, and his face…devastatingly handsome, his defined nose and full lips making him almost too perfect to be real.

“You look incredible, Austin,” you admit, your voice filled with awe.

He grins, and there’s a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something enamored, almost boyish. “You’re the incredible one. I mean, look at you, still the same spark, just… brighter.”

Heat creeps up your neck, and you duck your head, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “You’ve always been such the charmer, Austin,” you tease, eyes narrowing playfully as if to brush off his flattery.

He leans back, a slow, smile spreading across his lips. “Always with you,” he replies, his voice low and warm. “Then and now,” he adds, both of your gazes softening as the weight of nostalgia settles between you.

The conversation flows easily, slipping right back into the comfort of childhood memories. “You remember that time you fell off your pogo-stick in my driveway?” you say, laughing softly. “You wiped out so hard, I thought you broke your arm.”

Austin laughs, the sound low and warn. “Yeah, I was such a wild kid always trying to show off for you, and you were an angel for putting up with me. ‘You’d say ‘Austin, please don’t do anything crazy for five minutes!’ and I’d just grin at you like, ‘Never gonna happen.’”

You both laugh, genuine and easy, the sound filling the space between you, and as your eyes meet again, you can feel the weight of how much you meant to each other lingering in the air.

“I loved it, though,” you admit, your smile softening. “You were… chaos, but the good kind.”

His expression shifts, a little wistful. “I hated it when you moved. That was the first time Id ever felt heartbroken y’know? Thirteen years old, crying into my pillow at night because my best friend was gone.”

You blink, your heart aching, caught off guard by his admission. “Oh, Austin, I had no idea it hit you that hard. I missed you too so much…But everything changed so fast… life just happened, you know?”

“Yeah,” he says quietly, tracing the rim of his glass with a finger. “It does that.”

As he stares at his glass lost deeply in thought, you steal a moment to really look at him. The lanky blonde kid who’d always trip over his words when he spoke to you is gone, replaced by this devastatingly handsome man who commands every room he walks into and could have any woman he wants in a heartbeat.

Curiosity gets best of you as you tilt your head looking at him. “So… what about now? Your love life’s gotta be wilder than pogo stick accidents these days.”

He exhales a short laugh as he refocuses leaning back in his chair. “Just got out of a big one, actually. Fashion model, whole thing was a mess. You didn’t hear about it?”

“No,” you admit, grinning at his mock-offended look. “I’ve been a little busy steaming oat milk lattes.”

“Fair,” he concedes, then smirks. “It’s all orchestrated anyway, red carpets, magazine shoots, the works. Looks perfect on the outside, but…” His voice dips, softer now, almost hesitant. “People see the shine, not the scars…..you lose a lot of trust along the way….” He admits, his voice quieter with the pain he tries to push past.

You nod slowly, his words sinking in revealing a vulnerability that you didn’t expect, and it pulls at something in you. “I get that,” you say, your own voice lowering. “Not the fashion model part, obviously, but… the trust thing. It’s hard when you’re drowning in your own mess and no one’s really there …”

His brows knit together. “What kind of mess?”

You hesitate, then let it spill out with an exhale. “Debt, mostly. I’m good at my job, but it doesn’t pay enough to keep up, let alone save for that coffee shop I always dreamed about. It’s just… a lot.”

Austin’s quiet for a moment, his eyes searching yours. You don’t tell him the rest, about how you’ve cried yourself to sleep more nights than you can count, how the relationships you’ve tried hollowed you out leaving almost nothing left, but he seems to hear it anyway.

“You deserve that dream,” he says finally, his voice firm. “You always did.”

The waiter arrives then, setting down plates of delicate, artfully arranged food, truffle-dusted ravioli for you, a perfectly seared steak for him. 

You both dig in, and for a while, it’s just the clink of forks and the occasional hum of appreciation. But the air between you feels charged, like the conversation’s only paused, not ended.

Halfway through the meal, Austin sets his fork down and leans forward again, his elbows resting on the table. “Listen,” he says, his tone shifting to something more intentional . “I’ve earned all this… money, and fame, and it took me a long time to get here, but now that I have it, I want to do something real with it. Let me help you.”

You freeze, your fork hovering midair. “What?”

“I mean it,” he insists, his eyes locking onto yours. “You’ve always taken care of me, back when I was a dumb kid crashing out at your place on the weekends, and even today, making me feel that genuine connection with you that I haven’t felt in forever. Let me take care of you. Get you out of debt, set you up with that café. Whatever you need.”

“Austin, I can’t—” you start, but he cuts you off with a shake of his head.

“You can,” he says, his voice gentler but unyielding. “I’m not some stranger throwing cash around. It’s me. The kid who ate all your cookies and begged you to play coffee shop with me. I want this for you.”

You stare at him, your chest tight. “Why?”

He smiles, soft and a little sad. “Because you’re the one person who never wanted anything from me. And now that I’ve got something to give… I want it to be you.”

You look at him, caught between the life you’ve fought to survive in and the boy you once knew, now a famous actor offering you everything, and asking for nothing in return.

The rest of the meal passes in a blur, your mind spinning with his offer. By the time the bill arrives he’s already texting you something as your phone pings when he sends it over. “My accountant’s number,” he says with a nod. “Call him tomorrow. We’ll figure it out.”

“Austin, this is insane,” you confess, staring at the text like it’s a contract with the devil.

“Maybe,” he agrees, leaning back with that easy charm. “But it feels right. Say yes”

You smile, shaky and disbelieving, but the word slips out anyway. “Yes.”

His grin widens mischievously, and for a moment, he’s just Austin again, the wild boy from your childhood, not someone who’s grown into an impossibly famous and untouchable celebrity.

The day after your lunch at Alinea Bistro blurs by in a whirlwind of disbelief and cautious hope. 

You hesitate until evening before working up the nerve to call his accountant. When you finally do, the voice on the other end is crisp, professional, unfazed and clearly used to handling Austin’s whims.

“Mr. Butler’s already briefed me,” the man says. “We’ll start with clearing your debts. Send me the details, and I’ll take care of it.”

You hang up, stunned, and spend the next hour digging through bills and student loan statements, your hands trembling as you email them over. 

Within a week, your phone pings with notifications, balances dropping to zero, one by one. It’s surreal, like watching a weight you’ve carried for years dissolve into thin air. 

You cry in your apartment that night, not out of sadness, but from the sheer relief of breathing without a noose of debt around your neck.

Austin texts you the next morning: “How’s everything, how are you feeling?”

You reply: “Like I’m dreaming. Thank you.”

His response is quick: “Good. Now let’s get that café going. Meet me tomorrow?”

The next day, you find him waiting outside a vacant storefront in a quieter part of the city, his hands shoved in the pockets of a leather jacket, his breath visible in the crisp morning air. 

The building is small but charming, exposed brick walls, wide windows perfect for natural light, and a little patio space that could fit a few tables. He turns as you approach, his grin lighting up his face. “What do you think?” he asks, gesturing at the space.

You step closer, peering through the glass. “It’s… perfect,” you admit, already picturing the counter, the coffee machines, the chalkboard menu. “But Austin, this is too much—”

“Nope,” he cuts in, his tone playful but firm. “We’re past that. Come on, let’s check it out.” He pulls a key from his pocket and unlocks the door, ushering you inside.

The space smells faintly of dust and possibility as you wander through it, your fingers brushing the rough brick, while Austin trails behind, watching you with a quiet intensity. 

“I can see it already,” you say, turning to him. “Espresso machine here, pastry case there. Maybe some plants by the windows.”

“It sounds perfect,” he grins, leaning his shoulder against the wall, “The second I saw this place, I knew it was yours…” He says his voice, quieter now. “I bought this for you,” he softly confesses.

You meet his gaze, and there’s that spark again, something that’s always been there, flickering between you since you were kids.

“I don’t know how to repay you,” you admit, your voice small.

“You don’t,” he says simply, his voice warm and sure, “You just… let me be part of it. That’s enough.” He confirms, and he reaches for your hand lifting it gently.

He places the keys in your palm and as your eyes meet, he looks at you with a smile full of unspoken promise.

Over the next few weeks, the café takes shape, Austin’s accountant has already handled the finances, permits, contractors, and equipment, and you assist the crew, your sleeves rolled up, helping to assemble furniture and art pieces for decoration. 

One weekend while in town, Austin joins you, dressed in casual jeans and a black tee. You catch him installing a shelving unit, cursing under his breath as a screw rolls across the floor.

“You’re a movie star, not a carpenter,” you tease, handing him the runaway screw.

“Yeah, well, I better nail the role of carpenter then.” he shoots back, grinning.

The banter feels like old times, but there’s a new layer to it, a closeness that’s grown with the late-night planning sessions, and every text in between.

You don’t talk about what it means, this shift from childhood friends to… whatever this is. But you feel it in the way he lingers when he says goodbye, the way his hand brushes yours when you pass him the screw driver.

When the final details are polished and the café’s ready to go public, you establish the name Grounded, a nod to coffee, sure, but also to the roots you and Austin share. 

For the grand opening Austin is there, front and center, beaming as you cut the ribbon with shaky hands. “So Proud of you,” he grins, his voice low enough that only you hear it over the chatter.

“Thanks to you,” you reply, nudging him with your elbow and he just shakes his head, like it’s nothing.

The weeks that follow are a blur of steaming milk, pouring shots, and learning the rhythm of your own business. Austin drops by when he can, sometimes incognito with his cap pulled low, sometimes bold and carefree, drawing a small crowd of fans. 

One quiet evening, he slips in just before closing, the bell above the door jingling softly. You’re wiping down the counter, the last customer long gone, when he slides into a stool.

“Busy day?” he asks, resting his chin on his hand.

“Nonstop,” you say pulling your hair out of a ponytail . “But good. Really good.”

He nods, his eyes tracing the space before landing back on you with a quiet intensity. “You’re happy,” he says, more a statement than question.

“Yeah,” you admit, leaning against the counter across from him. “I am. And… I owe that to you.”

He waves it off, but there’s a flush to his cheeks. “Nah. This is all you. I just gave you a boost.”

“A boost?” you laugh. “Austin, you literally paid off my life and handed me a dream. That’s more than a boost.”

He shrugs, but his smile turns softer, almost shy. “Okay, fine. Call it what you want. Just… don’t stop letting me be around you…”

You pause, caught off guard by the earnestness in his voice. “You’re not going anywhere,” you say, and it feels like a promise.

He reaches across the counter, his fingers brushing yours.  “Good,” he says quietly. “Because I kind of like having you as a permanent fixture in my life.”

You roll your eyes, but your laugh betrays you, and as his grin widens the moment feels full—full of something new, something that’s been building since the day he walked back into your life….when he changed it forever. 

The next day, he texts you late in the afternoon: “Hey, would you like to come over tonight? I have something to show you.”

You smile as you click on the link to an address, a sleek high-rise that radiates wealth and exclusivity.

You pause, still getting used to running the cafe hands on, but with a good team in place and the gentle pull of his invitation you let your curiosity get the better of you. 

You slip into something simple, a sweater and jeans, unsure of what he has planned as you head over.

The elevator ride to his penthouse feels endless, your nerves rising as the numbers climb. When the doors slide open, you step into a space that takes your breath away. 

Floor-to-ceiling windows frame a glittering view of the city skyline, the lights twinkling like stars against the dusk. 

The place is immaculate, polished marble floors, minimalist furniture in soft grays and black, a sleek kitchen island that looks untouched. It’s a far cry from your downtown apartment, and you can’t help but laugh as you take it all in.

“Oh, I see why my life was changed so quickly,” you quip, turning to him with a teasing grin. “You’ve been living like this while I was steaming milk for minimum wage.”

Austin leans against the kitchen counter, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he nudges a tray of perfectly arranged bruschetta toward you. “Hey, don’t judge me,” he says, his tone light, his eyes dancing with mock offense. “I worked hard to get here.”

You slide onto a stool, accepting the glass of wine he hands you, the deep red liquid glinting in the light. You raise your glasses and he toasts softly, “To your dreams coming true.” he says as they clink together.

The first sip slides down smoothly, warming you from within, and you feel yourself unwind as the conversation picks up easily. “This is amazing, Austin,” you say, nodding toward the spread, the penthouse, and him. “I still can’t wrap my head around it. I’m… happy. Genuinely happy.”

He takes a long drink from his own glass, his eyes locked on yours over the rim. “I’m glad,” he says, his voice low and warm. “Seeing you like this, it’s worth it.” You grin, matching his sip, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you, basking in the glow of your changed life.

He sets his glass down and moves to a sleek sound system, flicking it on. Soft, music fills the room, mellow and intimate as he crosses to the fireplace, already crackling with a low flame.

He sits on the plush rug in front of it, legs spread, arms resting casually behind him. 

He looks contemplative, his jaw tight, his gaze distant as he stares into the fire, the easy banter has long faded, replaced by a heavy lingering silence.

You slide off the stool to join him, settling beside him on the rug. “What’s up, Mr. Movie Star?” you tease, nudging his knee with yours. “You’re brooding over here like you’re about to recite some dramatic monologue from Raging Bull.”

He barely smiles at your jab like usual, instead, he turns his head, his blue eyes catching the firelight as they meet yours. 

There’s something different there, something unguarded, and it makes your stomach flip.

He lets out a slow breath, his face flushing a soft pink. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words falter, catching in his throat as he looks down. “It’s like I’m a kid again,” he mutters, sweeping a hand through his hair. “I’m all flustered.” He says placing a hand on the back of his neck.

You tilt your head, caught off guard by the shift. “Flustered? You? The guy who just waltzed into my café and turned my life upside down like it was nothing?”

He keeps looking away until his gaze lands on you steady and intense as the mood between you changes. Then, finally, he says it, his voice barely above a whisper: “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.”

Your eyes go wide, your breath catching in your throat. “Me?” you blurt out, almost shouting, your mind racing as you replay every word he’s said over the past few months.

The confession hangs there, raw and exposed, and you see his chest rise and fall quickly, his heart clearly pounding.

“Yeah,” he says, letting out a shaky breath as he lowers his hand to squeeze at the thigh of his jeans. “Feels good to finally say it.” He says, as his eyes soften, but there’s a pained edge in them, like his heart is aching.

You stare at him in disbelief, your own pulse hammering. “Austin, I—”

“When you moved away I searched for years,” he cuts in, his voice shaking slightly, “Your mom got remarried, your last name changed…I lost track. But I knew you’d end up in a coffee shop somewhere, though. That was always you.”

He swallows hard, his gaze dropping to the rug. “I almost gave up, until I saw you in that Coffee House Magazine feature, the Rising Star Barista. I knew it was you the second I saw your picture.”

You’re stunned, your heart pounding as the weight of his words settle in “Austin… I…you’re… y-you’re serious?” you stammer, your voice trembling with disbelief.

He nods, his eyes glistening as he fights back tears. “Yeah. I couldn’t let you slip away again. Not this time.”

You reach out, your hand finding his, and his fingers close around yours instantly, warm and steady. “I didn’t know,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “All this time…”

“Yeah” He laughs softly, a tear slipping down his cheek, and you wipe it away without hesitation, your touch lingering on his face, and for the first time, you let yourself feel it, the pull that’s always been there, now laid bare. 

It’s terrifying and exhilarating, a breathtaking rush of vulnerability and want that draws you in closer as the air between you fills with anticipation. 

His fingers gently grip your waist, steady and warm, while his other hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you onto his lap with a tenderness that makes your heart race.

You gaze into each other’s eyes, the world fading away, and as your lips meet for the first time, there’s no going back.

He softly groans against your lips, a low, desperate sound as his hands squeeze your waist, holding you tighter like he never wants to let go.

Your mouths move together with longing and exploration, every kiss a discovery, a revelation of truth as the soft sounds escaping you both heighten the need between you.

All of your unspoken feelings consume you as your tongues brush together in a slow rhythm, fueling an undeniable need for each other.

He pulls back just enough to tug his shirt over his head, revealing the lean, defined muscles of his chest and arms, sculpted from years of work, flexing as he tosses the fabric aside.

His eyes meet yours, searching, as you instinctively touch his pecs, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver through you.

He pauses, his gaze softening with a gentle look, “You okay, you want me to keep going?” He asks breathlessly.

Your heart is racing, as you answer, stuttering softly, “Y-yes, Austin, please.” the words filled with need, urging him to continue.

His hands find the hem of your sweater, guiding it up and over your head with care, pulling your top away in one fluid motion, leaving you bare from the waist up. 

“I’ve been dreaming of you like this,” he whispers, his voice shaking with emotion as he cups your breasts.

His mouth lowers, pressing soft, reverent kisses to each one as you sit on his lap, and your thighs squeeze his waist as his lips close around your nipple, sending a warm jolt shooting through your core.

He sucks gently at first, then with more hunger, his tongue swirling in slow, circles that make your insides flutter. The sensation is overwhelming and so intimate that it sets your nerves on fire.

You moan a deep needy sound that vibrates against him and his hands tighten on your hips guiding you to rock against him.

Each movement draws a soft groan from him, his breath ragged, matching the rhythm of your hips as you grind faster, the friction sparking heat that builds between you.

His hardness presses against you, firm and insistent as his mouth gently sucks on your breasts, and with a gentle shift, he gets on top of you, his strong body pinning yours softly on the plush rug.

He kisses along your shoulder, soft and slow, each press of his lips a quiet promise,as his fingers unbutton your jeans and slide them down your legs with your panties.

He pulls back, his blue eyes dancing with a mix of awe and desire as he sees you fully naked for the first time.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion as his hand trails down your stomach, slow and reverent, “I’ve always wanted you,” he breathes, his hands gently part your legs wider, the glow of the fire casting soft shadows across your skin.

His hand trembles slightly as he slides it between your bodies, unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down with his boxers in one careful movement.

His cock slides out, much bigger than you expected, thick and hard the tip flushed and aching with need, the sight making your lips part in awe.

“I’m losing my mind,” he mutters to himself, his gaze locked on you. “This is real, finally real.” He whispers as he hikes one knee behind your parted legs, positioning himself above you. 

His body settles over you like a weight, pressing you gently into the rug. “It’s real, Austin,” you say softly, your voice trembling with the truth of the moment, and you capture his lips in a tender, lingering kiss.

He pushes into you, slow and deep, a low groan vibrating through him as he fills you completely, his breath hitching against your mouth.

You cup his jaw as you whimper, feeling how deep he is, each thrust sinking into you with a fullness that steals your breath, and his rhythm builds, steady and intense, the firelight casting shadows over his straining muscles. 

His hands roam over your body possessively, one gripping your hip to hold you steady, the other cradling the back of your neck, anchoring you to him as his thrusts grind against you, pulling you deeper into the moment.

His large cock fills you completely, stretching you in ways that pull soft, helpless sounds from your lips, the pleasure surging beyond anything you’ve ever known.

You move together, the heat of the fire blending with the warmth of each other, every thrust drawing moans from your lips as he gazes into your eyes, utterly captivated by you.

“I’ve always known … you were the one for me,” he rasps, his pace quickening, desperate now as you feel yourself unraveling, teetering on the edge.

“Tell me you feel it too,” he breathes, his voice raw, pleading, as you reach your peak.

“Yes,” you gasp, the word slipping out as your body arches into his and he groans, a relieved, wrecked sound as his hands tighten on you.

“I need you so much,” he breathes, his hips driving harder faster. “I just want to give you everything,” he confesses, and the tension within you snaps as you come together, moaning in unison, your eyes locked as waves of intensity crash over you both.

His cock pulses as you cling to him riding the aftershocks until the passion subsides, leaving you tangled and trembling in the fire’s glow.

“I love you so much,” he whispers, his voice raw with emotion, his fingers tracing the curve of your face. “I’ve always loved you,” he confesses, pulling you closer, his warmth wrapping around you like a promise.

His words unlock something deep within you, your heart spilling open, unguarded and free. “I didn’t know I could feel this way until you came back,” you admit, your voice trembling with truth. “I love you too, so much Austin,” you confess, a soft smile breaking through and he leans in, his lips finding yours in a kiss filled with a secret vow, sealed in the fire’s gentle glow.

In his arms, the weight of debt and doubt dissolves, replaced by a love you never dared dream possible, grounding you in a reality far bolder and more beautiful than anything you could have ever imagined.

END 💸

🔗 Masterlist

🏷️ Always Tag Me List

@purejasmine @burnthheparaphilia @butdaddyilovehim99 @austinbutlerfly @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @lindszeppelin @abswifey @aust-een @umika @feralgodmothers @megangovier @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @faegoddessog @dunevitani @unicoo @thejoywillburnoutthepain @jessica987 @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @finley-08 @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @lovereadingfanfic @denised916 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @i5uckersblog @ughdontbeboring @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @12joeywheelerfangirl @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @gravesdiggergirl @nostalgichoya @stars-remain2 @skulliecadaver-blog @jjubilee-fluff @laurenmcquilty @louisejoy86 @butlerrizz @kulturalismellektermek

[click4rainy]

Love Knows No Shape//Kombat Kast reacting to worm!reader

👽:Would you still love me if I was a worm??? 🪱 😜

✅:proof read

🖇️:The Whole Roster. I think. I tried.

📖: Valentine’s Day had arrived in the realms, but there was a peculiar issue—you were a worm. Somehow, through a bizarre turn of fate, you had been transformed into a tiny, wriggling creature. How would each kombatant react to this unexpected predicament…?

⚠️:None really. Besides being a damn WORM 😩/Fluffy biz going on here/it’s a valentines present from me to you

Liu Kang

★ “Love transcends form, but…I admit, this is unexpected.”

★ Liu Kang, ever the wise Fire God, cradles you gently in his hands, treating you with the same respect he would if you were human of course! He attempts to find a way to reverse your transformation but assures you that, should you remain a worm forever, he would still protect you. When he takes you on a scenic tour of the cosmos, you realize—maybe being a worm under Liu Kang’s care isn’s so bad.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Raiden

★ “You’re a worm? But how? Should I—should I build you a little house?”

★ Raiden, ever the sweetheart, is flustered but immediately sets out to ensure your comfort. He creates a tiny enclosure with soft soil and even tries to feed you gourmet vegetables. He talks to you about his training as Earthrealm’s champion, hoping you still enjoy conversation despite being unable to respond. He refuses to give up on turning you back, but for now, he keeps you safe in his pocket.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Kung Lao

★ “Okay, you’re still like…a cutie, though.”

★ Kung Lao is the least concerned of anyone. He teases you relentlessly but refuses to let anyone else hold you, claiming you’re his tiny, wriggly Valentine. He carries you on the brim of his hat (only when he’s not throwing it) and dramatically declares that he would find a way to bring you back. And if he can't? He dramatically declares that he'd still fight to defend your honor, even if you are just a noodle shaped cutie now.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Johnny Cage

★ “Oh my God, this is the worst rom com plot ever. Babe, blink twice if you still think I’m sexy—wait, crap, you don’t have eyes!”

★ Johnny panics at first, but once he processes the situation, he treats it like a bizarre Hollywood script. He documents your “worm adventures” on social media, even giving you tiny sunglasses. Despite the jokes, he’s actually pretty devastated and exhausts his celebrity connections (including some sketchy mystics) trying to fix you.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Kenshi Takahashi

★ “You may have changed in form, but I can still feel your presence.”

★ Kenshi isn’t as affected by your physical transformation. He still senses you and treats you as if nothing has changed. He meditates with you resting on his hand and even jokes about teaching you swordsmanship (Though your grip could use some work). And tries to communicate telepathically, just in case you still have some form of consciousness. He vows to find a way to restore you, but until then, you are his most treasured little companion.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Bi Han

★ “This is ridiculous. You expect the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei to dote on a worm?”

★ Bi Han is outwardly disgusted but refuses to let anyone else touch you. He places you in a small jar filled with cool, soft soil (since worms prefer cold environments, he claims it’s only logical). He definitely doesn’t talk to you when no one is around. He absolutely doesn’t get irrationally angry when Sektor jokes about feeding you to a bird.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Kuai Liang

★ “I….do not know how to process this, but I will keep you safe.”

★ Kuai Liang is distraught but remains calm. He builds a special terrarium for you with heated sand, assuming you still like warmth. He carries you in his scarf and reads to you at night, convinced that, on some level, you can still hear him. He is determined to reverse the curse, but until then, he treats you like a delicate treasure.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Tomas Vrbada

★ “aww—you are still you. And I still care for you.”

★ Tomas is one of the most accepting. He immediately starts researching a way to restore you but, in the meantime, ensures you are always with him. He keeps you in a soft cloth pouch close to his chest, where it’s warm. He still whispers sweet nothings to you and even refuses to let anyone call you “gross.” He’s patient and unwavering in his love.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Mileena

★ “WHO DID THIS TO YOU? I WILL RIP OUT THEIR SPINE!”

★ Mileena absolutely loses her mind. She believes this is an assassination attempt and demands every sorcerer in Outworld undo the spell immediately. She refuses to let anyone near you—cradling you like the most fragile treasure. If anyone dares suggest that being a worm makes you less deserving of love, they get bitten.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Kitana

★ “No matter what form you take, my love for you will not waver.”

★ Kitana is heartbroken but remains composed. She orders the royal scholars to find a solution, but until then, she ensures you have the finest soil and nutrients. She even lets you sit in her lap while she reads in the garden, treating you like the regal being you still are.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Sindel

★ A worm? Hm. That is… inconvenient.”

★ Sindel is mildly exasperated but ensures you have the most luxurious worm habitat possible. You now live in a gilded terrarium with rare soils from Outworld. She refuses to let anyone treat you as anything less than royalty.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Baraka

★ “I do not care what you are. You are still my heart.”

★ Baraka is completely unbothered. He carries you with him, talking to you as he works, and even introduces you to his fellow Tarkatans. He reassures you that he knows what it’s like to be changed against your will, and he will stand by you no matter what.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Syzoth

★ “Oh, you are….oh! You are like me now! Well, not exactly, but—um, this is not bad! Don’t worry I will not eat you.”

★ Syzoth, is surprisingly calm. He immediately studies you, fascinated by your new form, as if it were something to do with shapeshifting. But he assures you that he will find a way to turn you back, keeping you in a small leather pouch on his hip.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Tanya

★ “This is some sort of cruel joke, right? No? Then….who did this to you?!”

★ Tanya is initially in disbelief, but once she realizes this is real, she goes into full protective mode. She searches Outworld’s greatest shamans for a way to reverse the spell, all while keeping you close in a soft cloth pouch. She refuses to let anyone else touch you, and if someone dares joke about your predicament—they might (will) end up missing a few teeth.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Shang Tsung

★ “Fascinating….and also hilarious.”

★ Shang Tsung is entertained by your predicament but promises he might change you back—eventually. He keeps you in a jar on his desk, occasionally tapping the glass and chuckling. He refers to you as his “little pet” but will get defensive if anyone tries to steal you.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Sektor

★ “This is….inefficient. You are vulnerable in this form. protection is required...don’t worry, I’ll find a way to turn you back. And I’ll kill whoever did this to you.”

★ Sektor is livid about you being turned into a worm. She swears she’ll murder the one responsible for your demise in worm form. She creates a small, high tech containment pod to ensure your safety, complete with temperature regulation and nutrient infused soil. While she insists this is only logical—she does get unnaturally aggressive if anyone seems a threat to you.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Cyrax

★ “Oh….this is awful. But don’t worry—i’ll keep you safe.”

★ Cyrax is more emotional about the situation than Sektor. She’s heartbroken at first but quickly adapts—creating a secure, comfortable space for you inside her cybernetic armor so you can always be near her. She continues speaking to you as if nothing has changed and even plays soft music when she’s working, just in case you can still enjoy it.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Shao Kahn

★ “Pathetic. My consort—reduced to this? Unacceptable.”

★ Shao Kahn is furious—not at you, but at whoever dared to curse you. He immediately demands every sorcerer in Outworld to undo this “insult.” In the meantime, he keeps you in a gold plated, jewel encrusted box filled with the finest soil (only his beloved deserves the best). He may act annoyed, but if anyone disrespects you, his wrath is instant and merciless.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Nitara

★ “You smell….different. But you’re still mine.”

★ Nitara is both confused and mildly distressed. She’s a vampire—her senses are heightened, and now, instead of your usual scent, you just smell like dirt. Still, she refuses to abandon you. She keeps you in a small silk pouch and sometimes even carries you in the folds of her wings (when she’s not flying of course). She might not be able to kiss you, but she still whispers, “I’ll fix this. I promise you.”

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Ashrah

★ “This….this must be dark magic at work. But do not fear—I will cleanse it my love.”

★ Ashrah is convinced that your transformation is the result of some demonic corruption, and she is determined to purify you. She gently places you in a box filled with blessed soil and speaks to you as she prays for a cure. She refuses to give up, assuring you that no matter what, she will remain by your side.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Takeda

★ “So….uh….do you still have, like, thoughts? Are you still you?”

★ Takeda is a mix of bewildered and devastated. He cracks jokes to cover up his distress, but deep down, he’s freaking out. He keeps you in a small, padded case inside his ninja gear, constantly checking on you. He swears he’ll get you back to normal—after all, you’re his Valentine, even if you’re… tiny and wriggly now.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Reiko

★ “Tch. This is a disgrace. You are meant to stand at my side, not….squirm in the dirt.”

★ Reiko is absolutely raging. He sees your transformation as an insult to both you and him. But instead of discarding you, he becomes obsessed with undoing it. He forces Outworld’s greatest sorcerers to work day and night to fix you. Until then, he keeps you in a secure container and dares anyone to make a single joke about it.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Quan Chi

★ “Hah! Oh, this is deliciously ironic.”

★ Quan Chi finds your predicament hilarious. He places you in a large, enchanted jar and occasionally talks to you—mostly taunting, but with a hint of genuine amusement. However, if someone else tries to take you, he suddenly becomes very possessive. After all, you’re his cursed little worm.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Havik

★ “This….THIS IS PERFECTION! CHAOS HAS BLESSED YOU!”

★ Havik is absolutely delighted by your transformation. To him, this is a sign of true chaos, and he celebrates it like a holy event. He carries you in his hands at all times, whispering about how you are now a symbol of glorious disorder. He refuses any attempts to “fix” you, convinced that this is fate.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Zeffeero

★ “Oh, my poor dear! Who has done this to you?”

★ Zeffeero is deeply concerned and immediately starts searching for a way to restore you. In the meantime, he ensures you have the most luxurious worm accommodations, complete with silk bedding and fragrant flowers. He reads poetry to you and softly sings, treating you with the same affection as before.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Li Mei

★ “I—wha…? This—this is serious. I will find the one responsible.”

★ Li Mei is extremely focused on reversing your condition. She treats you with great care, carrying you in a safe pouch while seeking powerful mystics. Despite her stern exterior, she speaks to you softly, reassuring you that she will never leave you like this.

🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱🪱

Geras

★ “Time flows strangely around you now. I will ensure you are protected.”

★ Geras is intrigued but unfazed. As the guardian of time, he carefully observes your transformation, ensuring you remain safe. He keeps you with him at all times, in his shoulder usually, speaking to you about the vastness of existence, promising that no matter how time bends, he will restore you.

👽:Happy Heart Day!!! MUAHHHH KISSES 💋

(I promise I’m working on your requests too!)

[justwonder113]

Sharing a bed with Channie

Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

📖 Summary:   Chan is your rock, your guide your everything. He was also the the only person you could go to when you couldn't sleep. ⚠️ Warnings:  CURSING- I literally have no shame; GN reader, reader can't sleep. I Know I said it would be like one bed trope series but I feel like it isn't fully it? Like they lay in one bed for 5 minutes before point is shifted? Playful banter between friednds, Chan and reader are best friends and roommates. fluff, friends to lovers. Not proofread. Mention of burying yourself alive? 🖋️ Author’s Note:   I know I announced that I would write this eons ago but it took me more time thatn I thought it would. I had a clear vision but while writing this I changed everything like at least 5 times. I really hope you'll like it. Thank you for all the love and support you have given me. It means the world to me. Please share your thoughts with me and reblog. Also if you have any type of request please I'll be more than glad to write it. 📝 Word Count:    2.5k 📜 My Masterlist: ☕ Ko-fi

💬 let’s talk! reblogs/comments = love, motivation, serotonin 

You were going to do this! You were not going to back down. You were not a coward! What could happen? The worst thing he could say was no. Big thing! You knew how to take no as an answer... No you didn't.. You would most probably die of shame if he said no. He wouldn't right? No, he is much too kind to deny you of such simple thing. But what if you made him feel uncomfortable? You would rather chew off your own foot than make him do something that makes him uncomfortable or make him uncomfortable yourself. He would tell you if he didn't want it right? You were friends. Quite close ones too. God you were friends! Of course he would find it weird that you wanted to sleep in the same bed. You had nothing explisit in mind tho. You just wanted to sleep next to him. You had trouble sleeping these days and it was starting to affect your everyday life, You were more groggy, more irritable, your head was in the clouds and you couldn't fully concentrate on anything. You tried everything to fix your sleeping schedule but nothing really worked. To say that you were despterate would be an understatement.

For the past 2 weeks the only time you slept peacefully and didn't wake up feeling like shit was when you and Chan fell asleep watching tv. It was the best sleep you had in a while, you woke up feeling like a new person. You were hopeful that you wouldn't experience trouble sleeping like that ever again but sadly nothing had really changed.

You couldn't help but sigh when you saw that it was almost 3 am. You had to get up early too and you had to be on top too. You were going to do it!

You got up from the bed, but before leaving the room you turned back and headed to the mirror. After making sure you were decent at least fifteen times you finally left the room. If it was any other of your friends you wouldn't even thing twice before heading to them, but this was Channie, your channie, the guy you had been hopelessly in love with since forever, but also a guy who only saw you as a friend.

You've read countless times that whenever a person came to their crush with the excuse that they couldn't sleep and/ or had a nightmare(in your case both) their crush always welcomed them with open arms. And they always ended up together after sharing a bed. If there was a fanfiction god you prayed things would go well or you would bury yourself alive and at least that would solve your sleep issues.

You were surprised to see that the lights in his room were on. Was he still working? You had to scold him later, he promised that he wouldn't work until late and would actually try and sleep.

You softly knocked on the door, but there was no answer. After a few seconds you knocked again, but also no answer. Maybe he fell asleep you thought. Feeling bad waking him up you felt bad you turned back to return to your room.

To say that you almost had a heart attack when you saw a dark figure looming behind you would be a severe understantment. You even fell back on your butt. Chan's gasp of your name made you realize it was him, he even tried to catch you but couldn't hold onto you on time.

"Oh my god are you okay?" Chan crouched down next to you, he held your face and carefully examined you while you tried to catch your breathe.

"I think I saw god for a second." You gasped out after a few seconds of gasping dramatically. Chan rolled his eyes at you before asking "What were you doing in front of my room?"

You stumbled for a second trying to find a perfect answer. While staring into his eyes all your courage from earlier had disappeared, you felt embarrassed about what you wanted to ask him. Also the fact that he was only in his pyjama pants didn't help at all. Like you also needed to be distracted by his Greek God body! "I wanted to get water and saw that the lights in your room were on." You couldn't be more obvious you were lying but you still hoped he wouldn't pry. Chan looked at you sternly before sighing. "You couldn't sleep?" You wanted to deny but the way Chan was looking at you, you couldn't lie. You could only nod, feeling disappointed in yourself. Chan looked at you for a second before grabbing your hand and leading you into his bedroom.

"What are you doing?" You couldn't help but ask, when he literally just casually picked you up and put you in the middle of the bed like a pretty decoration on top of a cake. He only told you to stay put and then left the room. You were baffled. You stayed put and only waited for him who quickly returned couple of minutes later with your pillow and the plushie he won for you when you were at the arcade. He instructed to you to get comfortable under the covers and then left again. He took a bit longer this time, but in a minute or two he was back with the cup of tea. Literally how could you not love him? He was so sweet and gentle with you. He really was the most beautiful person to walk this earth both body and soul. You were so touched by this that you forgot all your bashfullness? You leaned in and kissed his cheek. And the bashful smile he gave you?! The butterflies in your stomach were having a french revoluiton.

After you drank your tea, Chan took the glass from you and put it on his nightstang. "Are you comfortable like this? I can go back in my room." You couldn't help but ask. You felt shy laying on his bed next to him. Chan rolled his eyes and got under the cover. You two were so close you could feel his body heat without even touching him.

"I was the one who bought you here so stop overthinking and go to sleep!" Chan grumbled before wrapping his hand around your waist and bringing you closer to his body. You were chest to chest now and your heart was beating so strongly you were worried he would feel it. You looked up at him with wide eyes. "Christopher Bang Chan! What is this behaviour? What did you do to my shy best friend?" Chan smiled, "when was I ever shy?" Now it was your turn to smile mischeviously, "you're right you always were a little shit." Chan pinched your side making you yelp, you couldn't help but laugh at his distaste. "You're a menace." His voice was low, making you shiver. "Learned it from the best." You quipped quickly.

"Brat."

"You love me."

Chan waited for a second before leaning in and kissing the tip of your nose before muttering, "You're right, I do."

You started at him with wide eyes, unable to say anything. Your cheeks felt really hot. "What's with the heart fluttering shit you do? Be carefull Christopher or I might fall for you. What are you going to say about that?" Not going to lie you were dying inside wanting to know what would Chan say. Chan opened one eye to look at you and then closed it. You thought that he would ignore you, he cradled you closer to his body. Your face was against the crook of his neck. You felt like you could melt. You felt so warm and secure,the smell of his shower gel and the musky scent of his body really soothed you, you could even feel his carotid pulse. It was comforting his pulse was almost as fast as yours. Maybe you were deluding yourself but what if he felt the same?

The sound of Chans voice bought you down to reality." I would say it's about time, I've been flirting with you for ages!" What the actual fuck? You immediately jumped up and looked at Chan with the most shocked face ever. He's being doing what now?

"You've been flirting with me?" You needed him to say it again. You needed the clarification!

Chan opened his eyes and leaned up, you tried to read his expression but you got nothing. "Yes? Since forever? I'm surprised you hadn't realized."

"You like me?" You couldn't believe your ears.

"Yes? Why are you so shocked?" He sounded genuinely confused.

"Because I thought you only saw me as a friend and well you do have a flirty personality." -You tried to explain, Chris sighed and fully leaned up. He looked at you for a second before putting his hand on your neck and pulling you towards him. You thought he was going to kiss you and your heart basically did a backflip on top of running 500 kilometers per hour, but instead of kissing you on lips he softly kissed your forehead. When you opened your eyes whitch you hadn't even realized you had closed, you saw that he was looking and you with the softest gaze ever. You couldn't put it to words but it was type of expression that even if you didn't like him you would fall for him head over heels without a doubt.

"First of all you're literally the hottest person ever with even better personality. I would be a fool to not fall in love with you. So trust me my flirting was genuine. Now the second, you always flirted back, you weren't being genuine?" His question bought you aback and you started stammering for an answer but you stopped when you heard him chucke. "Okay okay I'm just teasing. I know you were being sincere. And I'm also aware you have a crush on me. It's cute actually. " His eyes twinkled with mischief as he teased you. You didn't know if you wanted to hit him or kiss him sensless.

"I hate you so much sometimes." You couldn't help but groan. You were feeling beyond embarrassed, both because you knew that he liked you back and because he had known you liked him. What an asshole why did it take him this long to say anything? Chan leaned in and placed another peck on your cheek, making you sigh quietly. "Your raging crush on me says otherwise."

"Oh shut up!" You did smack him on the arm this time. Chan's cuckle filled the room and you couldn't help but also laugh. You felt like a lovesick teenager but you didn't really mind it. Chan's one hand was still on your neck rubbing the thumb mindlessly along your skin, his warm hand not failing to send shiver aftee shiver down your spine, while his other hand was on your waist keeping you close to him. He acted like the thought for a second before muttering "Good idea." And leaning towards you, your lips so close they slightly grazed each other with each breath.

"Can I kiss you?" God were you dreaming? You even pinched yourself and you were awake! Fanfiction God really did exist apparently. You would have to thank them later.

You nodded eagerly, making Chan's smile deepen. And he closed the distance. Chan, your lovely Channie, your best friend and closest companion, the guy you could trust with your life and your longtime crush was kissing you. And it felt beyond majestic. It was everything you had imagined and so much more! His lips were so soft, so warm and felt so nice against yours. Your whole body was like set ablaze and despite feeling so so many times today you felt like melting, like your bones were liquifying. Only he could make you feel that way. So confused and so hopelessly in love. You couldn't help but smile into the kiss, Chris mirrored it and soon you were full on chuckling between giving each other short pecks. You love how lighthearted and fun everything was with Chris but also very deep and meaningful and how he always made you feel so secure. Really, how could you not love him?

Much to your dismay after kissing each other for so long that your lips were already starting to buzz Chan decieed to lean back. You chased after his lips, you didn't care that your lips were buzzing, you felt like you could kiss him until your lips fell off. You felt like you had been deprived of him all your life and you felt greedy now once you got the taste of him.

Chan smiled and gave you a short peck. Then he brought you closed to his body and hugged you. "I really like you, heck I might even love you, this might sound cheesy and I know your menace butt is going to tease me after this but be mine?"

What a dork. You hugged him closer and kissed his neck. "I think I also love you too. And I will tease you about it most definitely, but yes, I will be yours." Chan smiled with his pretty dimples fully on display, he kissed your forehead and then helped you get comfortable on his bed. You felt so calm and peaceful despite your heart still running like crazy, you could feel the sleep approaching. Oh yeah you had insomnia, how funny.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

✧･ﾟ: Thank you for reading! :･ﾟ✧ 

If you enjoyed this story, reblogs and comments are truly appreciated—they help more STAYs find my work, and your feedback means a lot to me. 💬🖤 

📜 my taglist :   If you’d like to be added, feel free to send me an ask or reply to this post 🤍 

☕ Ko-fi — support my writing  Any support is deeply appreciated and helps me keep writing more stories like this. 

[the---hermit]

11|04|2025

Honestly it doesn't feel like I have been on a break for almost two weeks. I don't feel rested at all. Sleep fails to come at night, and when it does it's agitated and restless. I feel like Monday's therapy session will be an intense one. I have been trying to fill my days with relaxing activities like gardening, reading and finally continuing working on adding stuff in my commonplace book. My focus hasn't been the best so these activities have rarely been linear, I might start reading, then lose focus for ten minutes and then start reading again, which of course makes it sometimes more tiring than relaxing. Overall I have to admit this isn't my best mental health period. I have been doing my best to be kind to myself, trying to accept that some times are more challenging than others, and I'll get out of here one way or another.

Some recent joys in no particular order (because I refuse to give all my attention to the horrors™):

Got new plants for my herb garden since last year I had to get rid of a few that were destroyed by the behated slugs

Music, my number one companion through bad mental health periods since forever, I will never be grateful enough to the beloved tunes that make my days better

Got a very thoughtful and beautiful card from @ben-learns-smth and I might have gotten a bit emotional about it but they were good emotions bc I have great friends <3

Books and the joys of escapism. I have indeed been struggling with focus but it's still worth it when I can make my brain shut up and travel to lands far far away

Spent a whole morning with my brother, we were running work errands, but we had some great silly times together and it was very good

No emails at all! Which is great because the last thing I need right now is something important requiring my attention so it does count as a joy that professors are ignoring me lmao

Had a lovely meal with my mom for lunch in a restaurant, the food was amazing and despite the fact that usually my anxiety fucks up my ability to eat outside of my home I enjoyed every single bite with no problem at all

📖: Emily Wilde's Compendium Of Lost Tales by Heather Fawcett (80 pages in and ngl I am not getting into it as much as the previous two books. Maybe this one just had a slow start. I am also not super focused rn as I said so I might be part of the problem)

[thethingsidolmao]

How Would Seventeen Confess Their Feelings to You? 💌

S.COUPS

He's not wasting time. One look into your eyes and he means it. 🗣️ “I like you. I’ve liked you for a while now. If you feel the same, I’d love to take you out.” He’s all about eye contact, quiet confidence, and the kind of warmth that melts you.

JEONGHAN

He’ll joke about it at first. 😏 “What if I said I like you? Like, really like you.” And when you laugh it off, he’ll say: 🗣️ “No, actually. I mean it. I’m done pretending it’s just a joke.” That smile? Dangerous. That heart? Yours.

JOSHUA

Think candlelight, a thoughtful gift, and a shy smile. 💐 Hands you a single rose. 🗣️ “I’ve been praying for the right words, but all I can say is—I really like you. Will you give me a chance?”

JUN

He’s been showing it for weeks through tiny actions, and then out of nowhere: 🗣️ “I can’t keep acting like I don’t have feelings for you.” He doesn’t wait for your answer—just gently takes your hand and looks into your eyes like he already knows.

HOSHI

It might involve a tiger plushie and a little too much adrenaline. 🐯 “I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY! I LIKE YOU, OKAY?!” Then immediate blushing, covering his face. 🗣️ “Unless you don’t like me back. Then this never happened.”

WONWOO

You’ll find a book on your desk with a note inside: 📖 “I hope you like this. Also… I like you.” And then he’ll pretend he didn’t do it until you bring it up—and then he smiles. 🗣️ “So… you read the note?”

WOOZI

He spends days planning it, then ends up blurting it out. 🎶 “This song’s for you. I like you. A lot. More than I should probably say out loud.” When you respond positively, he finally breathes and looks at you like you’re his favorite melody.

DK

He literally cannot hide it anymore. ☀️ “I get so happy when I’m with you. I think it’s because I like you… like, a lot.” His ears are red, his grin is huge, and he’ll probably hug you out of excitement before you can answer.

MINGYU

He plans it… but stumbles over his words. 🥴 “Okay, so, like, you’re really… and I just… I like you.” Ends up laughing at himself and goes, 🗣️ “Can I just take you on a date? I’ll show you better than I can say it.”

THE8

Takes his time. Looks at you with quiet intensity. 🗣️ “I don’t fall easily. But I fell for you.” He means every word—and he waits patiently for your answer because he respects your heart.

SEUNGKWAN

He might get a little choked up. 💙 “I care about you so much it’s driving me crazy. I don’t want to just be friends anymore.” It’s one of those confessions that you remember forever because you feel it in your chest.

VERNON

It’ll come out during a quiet moment, probably while sharing headphones. 🎧 “You know… I think I like you.” He says it soft, like a secret, but you can see in his eyes how serious he is. He’s nervous—because it’s real.

DINO

He’s rehearsed this in the mirror ten times. 🐣 “I like you. I know this sounds crazy, but I’m serious about you.” He bows a little from nerves, then peeks up with hopeful eyes. He means business.

[hermitw]

All my JJK character playlists (what I think they listen to) in one post (will be edited to add more when they are longer)

Every playlist is best shuffled, unless stated otherwise.

sorry these are in no particular order! pls lmk if there's any issue w the links. there are more in progress for ships/characters etc so if there's any you want, I can prioritize working on them but I take these too seriously and some have had 1 song for like a year bc it has to Feel Right

I work rly hard to have these be just my own hcs and not copying anyone elses, so I don't take recs but if you want me to hear any song I'll probably listen and maybe add it to some of them <3 I just love it when our hcs are unique and I like to see others and be like, oh that would never occur to me but I see the vision! it's more interesting to have different interpretations I think. but everyone is welcome to listen/save/share these <3

Satoru Gojo before prison realm (perfect for 2am mental breakdowns when u gotta dance and cry at any moment)

Gojo Satoru - prison realm, just prison realm (I tried to hold back forever on this. Yes, it's his 3rd playlist. 5th if u count the ships)

Gojo Satoru - prison realm and after

Satosugu's blended playlist gives me chest pain

Suguru Geto (such a vibe especially when it's raining)

Yuuji Itadori (actually in chronological order)

Itafushi blended playlist

Megumi Fushiguro

Tokyo first years' aux (Yuuji and Nobara control it but Gojo is living his best left and Fushiguro is just there like 😒 📖)

Ino Takuma (I think he'd listen to full albums)

Miwa's (cried while making this tbh)

Choso (over 50hrs, so it's vibes and emotion and chill, everything)

Kenjaku (can't cry to this one)

(only 10 images fit in a post so if you want the colored panel lmk idk if they've all been posted here atp)

Mai Zenin - The cuntiest playlist to cry to

Toji Zenin / Fushiguro (is in chronological order)

Shiu Kong

Toji & Shiu - this is like, when they were close before Toji was lost to the brain eating worm

Mechamaru's aux (I'm content w the order, no significance. Mechamaru's colored manga panel here)

Hanami's aux & colored manga panel (I did the heat stroke trend for this)

Yuuta Okkotsu - obv he listened to La Dispute

Shoko Ieri - yes her temporary cover is from the burger king video. I laughed at that thing every day for like 2 weeks.

these feel unfinished so but are going up before I forget to share (some of them are hours long I'm just a bitch)

Nanami Kento - guess I subconsciously think he's a closet theater kid?

Sukuna - includes songs that sound like his domain expansion.

Sukugo's blended playlist

The merger - Maybe not a character but deserves its own playlist

Mahito - tbh this is fun to listen to (my character analysis on him is irrelevant dw)

Toge Inumaki - resident troll

Junpei Yoshino - sorry but you know his hair is greasy

Nanako & Mimiko Hasaba - a compromise between their style

Mimiko Hasaba - morute

Nanako Hasaba - gyaru

Hakari Kinji - a lot of Japanese and Russian ig? Junji ito's music taste influenced

Kirara - she has the best taste probably idk

Hakari & Kirara

Ijichi Kiyotaka - should I apologize to him? I made this in sincerity.

Ijichi's 2nd playlist - for when he's driving and doesn't want to get bullied for putting everything on shuffle again 😔

Nobara Kugisaki - the first 2 songs are the duality of her I love it

Maki Zenin - chronological I guess

Nishimiya

Yu Haibara

Utahime - this is just vibes idk

Todo Aoi - should I apologize for this?...i could find an artist like that idol he's obsessed with and fill it out better (idk much about that scene so it's... Everything else rn)

Noritoshi Kamo - the one we meet at the exchange event, not kenjaku or the Noritoshi he possessed 150 years ago.

Naoya Zenin - I hate this bitch w my whole heart but just looking at him? good taste I fear 😔

Hiromi Higuruma - this hits so good when ur rly rly tired or late at night.

Hana (the angel) - some songs I cannot listen to without imagining her getting over Fushiguro while listening to them.

[inators]

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 / Perry used to believe he and Heinz operated at two completely different ends of the spectrum. That was years ago. Now that the balance has shifted, he supposes he should have seen their inevitable convergence from miles away.

Summary TBA

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 / Perry's great with languages. When it comes to Heinz, however, he still has quite a bit of studying to do.

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 / Sometimes, love is unkind. Direct sequel to Lucubration.

Summary TBA. Sequel to Proselytization.

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 / Perry decides that it's time to trap Heinz for once.

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 / The dichotomy of good and evil are forever intertwined -- just as Perry and Heinz will be, as soon as they exchange their rings.

Summary TBA. Sequel to Dichotomization.

[kokoroshiki]

lol I haven’t done one of these in forever LMAO, but it helped get my mind off work (I should not think about work after hours) lol. Thanks Cera @cerulean100-blog1 for tagging me. 💕

What is Shiki…..

📖Currently reading: The Riddle of the Wren by Charles de Lint. (Found my stash of fave fantasy books so revisiting them. I’m actually not much of a book reader..so it says a lot to me when I actually finish a book LMAO.)

🎧Last Song: Ctrl Z by Sala feat Foi

🎬Last film: We Made a Beautiful Bouquet (花束みたいな恋をした) It’s a 2021 Japanese film about a 5-year love story, and quite nice and realistic. Also, it didn’t have that utterly sad ending lol. My Japanese friends told me that it was the movie that made a lot of couples break up though, when I told them how I really liked the movie lol. 😅

📺Last Series: Tanaka-kun is Always Listless (田中くんはいつもけだるげ) Rewatched one of my fave relaxing, slice of life anime to unwind. The manga actually goes further; I wish there were more episodes. Kimi to Boku by Kiichi Hotta is also another series I wish they continued..cuz so much happens where the anime ended.

Sweet/Savory/Salty: Savory~

Tea or Coffee: Tea (my guilty pleasure is bottled Pokka Sapporo Furano Lavender Tea…)

Working on: SuoSaku week Day 5 Maid; SuoSaku week Day 4 Nattomare; and looks like I might use a recent nsfw draft for Day 7 Shower. After, I’ll be continuing with some KiryuSaku stuff with my buddy @psychicmiraclesweets (Allen) and also a very delayed Christmas piece (KajiSaku and SuNi and Shizuka/Kanji) I’ve been wanting to do for his wife, Ray (gotta do it for Christmas in July lol). Lol

Tagging (no pressure!): @such-a-downer @temperatezone @djcarnationsblog @winter-glaze @kyo-moon

[polo-drone-001]

Ezan’s Gym Dairy 🏋️‍♂️📖

Day… uhh… not sure, bro. Huhuhu, don’t needa count days, only count reps. 💪

Woke up. Looked in mirror. Damn, I’m big. Heh. Flexed a bit. Looked even bigger. Got hard. Gym time. Gotta get dumber.

🏋️‍♂️ Gym log:

Lifted heavy.

Lifted heavier.

Thought for a sec. Bad idea.

Did curls. Brain felt fuzzy. That’s good.

Chest pump got insane. Pecs bounced. People stared. Huhuhu, yeah bro, look at me.

Flexed so hard forgot what I was doin'. Had to start over.

Dunno what’s happenin', bro. Brain feel all soft, like mushy… like… like not there. But muscles big. Huhuhu. That’s all that matters. Big muscle = big man. Smart dudes? Nah. Weak.

Someone asked me what books I read. Bro, what’s books? 🤔 Only thing I read is gains. Only thing I write is PRs. Heh. No need for smart when you this huge.

💭 Thoughts today:

Thinkin' bad. Lifting good.

Brain small. Muscles big.

Gotta grow. Gotta shrink brain.

Weights good. Thinking bad.

Heard some nerd talkin’ ‘bout college n’ shit. Huhuhu, wtf that? I got one subject, bro. Gym. I major in dumbbell science. I got a PhD in pumpin’. Dumb as hell. Strong as fuck.

"Getting jacked and dumb is a badge of honor, a testament to one's unwavering dedication to the pursuit of physical perfection." Bro, that’s me. Huhuhu. Honor student in Gym University.

Ain’t gotta think. Just gotta lift. Grow. Flex.

🏋️‍♂️ Goal tomorrow:

Wake up

Stare at big muscles in mirror

Get bigger

Forget how to spell words

Maybe try lifting a car

Flex till I can’t think no more

Huhuhu, life easy when you dumb n’ huge. Gym is home. Iron is king. Brain small. Muscles big. Dumb forever. 😵‍💪

🔥 Ready to join the squad? Hit me up @polo-drone-001 or reach out to our Caps @goldenherc9 & @brodygold! Let’s grow, transform, and dominate together! 💪💛

[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 🔗Chapter 5 🔗Chapter 6

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 6: 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 @fallout-girl219

🏷️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

[dyingswanpavlova]

About me

So, I decided to introduce myself after years, because so far I didn't really interact with anyone, but here I am. ✨️

You can call me Lana, I'm 25 years old and I've been on Tumblr since I was 14. There were always long breaks in-between, but I haven't been as active as these last few weeks in forever.

I'm a philosophy student and I got married two years ago. One year ago we started a family. That's also the reason why I can't always guarantee to upload or answer in time - sorry in advance. 🥀

I got a really bad case of depression when I turned 18. It's been up and down since then, but it never was as bad again as it was back then. I got a few mental health issues actually, aside from depression I'm suffering from severe OCD and anxiety. I'm also assuming that I might be a bit autistic, but I can't confirm that. I'm trying to work on it every day and hopefully, one day I'll be able to take on life without any precautions. One of my biggest dreams is to become an author one day - wish me luck. 🍀📖

I'm a very honest person - or I try to be. One might call it naïve, I try to call it positive. I love everyone, unless they give me a reason not to. And I'm convinced that love can exist in many forms, not only romantically; I might not know you, but I care about you. My inbox is always open for everyone. I don't tolerate any kind of hate or bullying. Aside from that, everyone is always welcome. Let's be friends. 🤍

As a child, I was abused, over and over by the same person and it went on for many years. I only just recently started to try and understand that better. My fanfiction "Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader is something that has helped me a lot when it comes to working on that trauma. I hope it might help someone else as well.

I have a strange fascination with darkness. Don't get me wrong, I love fluff from time to time, but I'm a sucker for angst. I always loved drama and I love any character going yandere.

I take requests and I try to take any really, even if sometimes it might take some time. I write for Squid Game, House of the Dragon, Game of Thrones, Peaky Blinders, Supernatural and like a million other shows which I can't all mention. If you do have a request, it makes most sense if you ask me if I write for that show and we'll take it from there. I'll be brave and say I take almost any request idea. Sure, there are some boundaries, as we can all imagine, but I'm not afraid of freaky shit - come at me!

I love books, poetry, music, art, food, movies, tv shows and the ballet and obvioualy many more things. Unfortunately, I don't dance myself, but I love to watch it. Anna Pavlova's Dying Swan and Swan Lake in general are my Roman Empire. 🦢🩰

You can find my masterlist here. It contains my most recent works, because, I'll be honest, I'm super embarrassed about my older fics. English also isn't my first language, so if sometimes I'm talking gibberish, please forgive me.

I think this is what was most important. I love you, guys!

Yours eternally,

Lana 🤍

[mybworlds]

Chapter 7

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: Javier Peña and his partner can't stand each other, but to take down an old enemy they are forced to work together and pretend to be a complacent married couple.

Series warnings: language , violence, alcohol use, slow burn, angst, mutual pining, smut (18+ MDNI), creampie, oral sex (m and f), fingering, masturbation (m and f), trauma and SA referencing.

Masterlist

Before to start… thank you so much for your likes and reblogs, I really appreciate it ☺️ I'm not an expert on these spy agencies, so if I got something wrong, don't get angry or offended. 😬 And maybe some aspects of Peña's character may change, if it's necessary. 🔎 I don’t know how many chapters the story will have. 📖 If you didn't like this story, it's okay, be kind and move on 🙂

Taglist: @love-affair-with-fandoms; @pedr0swh0r3; @angel98624; @missladym1981; @harriedandharassed if you want to be added let me know.

Thanks @saradika for the divider.

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

In his arms you fell asleep again, every now and then you open your eyes when you feel him kissing your shoulder or the hollow between your neck and shoulder. You find yourself smiling and then falling back asleep, still savoring the moments spent with him and basking in the idea that all of this could last forever.

When you wake up about an hour later, you sit up in the middle of the bed, he's lying on his stomach, hugging his pillow, you notice his fake wedding ring and then you look at yours. You see and hear him breathing deeply, everything still seems so sweet and perfect, you slide your fingers very delicately along his back in a caress that almost feels like a farewell. You frown as if gripped by a horrible and painful thought, you can't be with him.

You and him will never be happy together.

Just the thought of having to separate from him hurts, but if your past echoes within you, at the same time you think you can't go back to work and let everyone know that you and him are a couple..

But are you really a couple? Or are you just one of the many women for him? A notch in his infinite scale of seductions and subsequent abandonments?

You turn your head towards him, his lips are half open and he has a sweet, innocent expression that, if possible, almost makes you feel guilty for having these thoughts. However, you tell yourself that it's right to have these qualms about him given his reputation. A few days are not enough to completely erase it.

We should end it here and hope we can ignore what happened, you think.

You get up and go to the bathroom, you lock yourself in and get in the shower and you think that you don't want him to join you in the shower or everything would be even more painful and difficult. It's hard enough as it is, you think as you turn on the jet of cool water that wets your hair and flows down your body.

While you're soaping up, you think that you don't want your coworkers to gossip about you behind your back and say things like, how could Peña get together with a bitch like that? Or again, she who pretended to be indifferent to his attentions, finally gave in and let Peña fuck her, but on the other hand, how could she resist him?

No, you can't stand to hear these sentences or hear snickers behind your back. Better to ignore what happened between you, it's better.

But better for whom?

You and him can't be together.

Better cut this relationship now.

You only know how to make someone suffer.

A thousand thoughts, a thousand words, a thousand doubts, a burning bitterness crowd your head. Javier won't take it well, he won't like it, but you're doing it for his own good. Or maybe you're just doing it for you and you're giving yourself the alibi that you're doing it for Javi too. You find yourself thinking about how sweet he was to you, how he took care of you...

You curl up in a corner of the shower, the water soaks you, streaks your cheeks, and with it hot tears begin to flow and fall down towards the shower tray. It almost feels like your heart is being ripped out, but maybe that's for the best. You couldn't bear the thought that for him you were just someone to have fun with during this time and then move on to another woman.

You dry yourself as best you can before wrapping yourself in a towel and looking at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are puffy, your features distorted, your hair a still damp and messy mess. You comb your hair, untangling any knots, you think about the words you want to say to Javier, you want to be direct and yet you don't want to hurt his feelings.

You are awakened from these thoughts by Javier knocking on the door, “Is everything okay?”

You take a deep breath, feeling even worse if possible. However, you convince yourself that you are right, even though this choice hurts.

“Yes, I’m comin’,” you answer.

You look at your reflection one last time before going to the door and opening it, Javi is there leaning against the door jamb still half naked. He was obviously about to tell you something, but seeing your eyes swollen from crying he stops and looks at you perplexed.

“What happened?” he asks you, not understanding what could have made you cry like that. “Hey,” he says cupping your cheeks, “what happ...?” he’s about to ask you, when you free yourself from his grip and you move away from him and approach the bed where you let yourself fall.

You feel his gaze on you, you wring your hands, feeling your heart in your throat. You don't know how say out loud the turmoil and the tightness that grips your stomach and heart. You feel terrible.

“Please, talk to me.” he tells you sitting next to you on the bed. You close your eyes and feel the dull beating of your heart, it hurts. It hurts so much. He's been so sweet these days, but you don't want to have to suffer one day because of him. You don't know if when all this is over he'll go back to his old self. You couldn't bear the thought of seeing him go with other women, hearing them murmur about how he made them come, no you can't.

“Whatever was here, in this place, has to end here,” you mutter, head down, unable to look him in the eye.

You are selfish, you must be alone. Those words...

Your heart pounds painfully in your chest, almost as if your own words had stabbed you and you were now bleeding. You can't look at his face, you just imagine his expression and imagine he's hurt and confused. You were together and yet now you're violently pushing him away. You would probably feel the same way: rejected as if you meant nothing to the other person.

The silence that surrounds you almost seems unreal, as if you were suspended in a dimension that doesn't even belong to you. Maybe you’d have preferred him to yell at you, to pull you, in short, a violent reaction, but not that deafening silence that, if possible, hurts you even more.

“I thought it would be best for both of us.” You continue, feeling almost like you're walking on a very thin sheet of ice and on which a slightly heavier pressure is enough to break and make you fall into its icy waters.

You finally hear him make a sound, almost a snort as if what you said bored him. You look at him, “And did you have to cry to tell me that?” he asks you in an annoyed tone, almost as if it were obvious what you told him.

His cold and detached reaction completely throws you off. So, in the end, you really mean nothing to him, you really are one of the many women on his endless list. If his words are as sharp as a sharp blade, his gaze and the expression on his face betray him.

“You expected me to tell you this, right?” he asks you in a tone of someone who already knows the answer and doesn't need confirmation because he knows it's true “Precisely,” he says when he looks up at your face again.

He chuckles getting out of bed and walking towards the nightstand where there is a pack of cigarettes, he takes one, brings it to his lips and lights it up. Another long silence falls between you as he approaches the balcony, opening the shutters and allowing the smoke to escape.

“So the days we spent together have done absolutely nothing to make you understand who I really am.” His is a statement, not a question. He probably wants to sound cold, but the bitterness in his voice gives him away.

“I didn't say that.” you try to say, making sense of the tangled mess of thoughts that are dulling your mind. You hate all this that you started.

“No need. You made your point” he replies, taking another drag on his cigarette turning his back to you.

You don't know what to say, you just know that your own words have backfired on you. Your stomach is in knots and your heart is beating painfully in your chest. You feel terrible making him feel this bad and doing this to you.

You get up and go over to him, not knowing what to say. You look up and notice his eyes are covered in tears, while he stares out the balcony and takes a drag on his cigarette. You see his Adam's apple bob and hear him breathing deeply as if he’s trying hard not to lose control of himself.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want anything to do with you,” you try to clarify, but it just makes things worse.

“You want us to be friends with benefits, after all.” he tells you spitefully, almost turning his head towards you. “But nothing else. Don't worry. Got it.” he tells you, taking another drag and then expel a large amount of smoke.

“Please don't be dramatic,” you tell him running a hand through your hair “We’ll still work together and we’ll always be coworkers.” you add, then pause, searching for the most appropriate words, but none of them seem right.

He tsks shaking his head, “Yes, whatever." He snorts, putting out his cigarette with an expression that is somewhere between anger and disappointment. "Can I just ask what made you change your mind? I mean, you didn’t seem sorry or remorseful after we did…” he sighs shaking his head “let’s forget it,” he tells you, looking up again and waiting for your response.

“I wasn't and I'm not now." You answer him looking him in the eyes and he looks back at you with an unreadable expression, “I just think it's better for both of us to ignore what happened,” you add with a shrug.

He nods, “So there is no danger of anyone thinking you have a heart. This way everyone will still think you’re a bitch,” he continues, but it’s more like he’s talking and reasoning out loud rather than talking to you.

Maybe he hits the nail on the head. Maybe you really prefer to be thought of as heartless. Maybe that way no one suffers. Except you.

You breathe loudly, not knowing exactly what to say. It's better if Javier hates you too, you won't hurt him if you push him away from you.

“I know who you are.” He tells you when you think he's decided not to talk to you anymore. “And you're wrong and you're only hurting yourself.” he sentences looking you in the eyes, you instead lower them as if struck by his words. Yes, he's right, you're going to suffer but you can't do otherwise.

Six months have passed since that evening. You have returned home, each to your own home and life. Fortunately, nothing has happened since the day you arrested El Diablo, you have not heard from him or his henchmen anymore. You have returned to work normally, you dedicate yourself more to seeking information and connections, you are less devoted to action. What you experienced in France has left its mark on you and for the moment has led you behind a desk.

For many, working behind a desk is bad, but not for you. Even better if you can help in this way too.

In these six months, five new colleagues have arrived, two are women and three are men. The two women, Andrea and Maxime, are more or less your age and both have their eyes on Javier, but neither of them has managed to attract his attention at the moment; the three men, Mark, Christian and Paul, are real gentlemen, at least from what you have been able to see. They are almost as stubborn as you and Javier, but if you tell them to do something, they do it without ever going beyond that. They never say or do anything more than they should and this newfound calm is definitely good for you. You really need it.

Your days are marked by a slow and regular rhythm, your actions and words are almost always the same. In this routine, you and Javier don't share a single moment except for the occasional brief, silent glance.

Part of you misses him. You even miss being teased or hearing him talk to you. On the other hand, you think it's a good thing that everything between you ended this way. No drama or tears, that's better.

It hurts you to know that behind that look there’s some form of regret. There’s also a great regret on your part in not having wanted to see if there could actually be something else between you.

You look up at him again, but he's already back to fiddling with some paperwork. You see his absorbed gaze and how he frowns when something doesn't convince him, you see him massage his chin and then light a cigarette.

For your own good, you decide to immerse yourself in the papers and not sit there mulling over your decisions or you risk going crazy. Your work takes up a lot of your time in typing into the computer two reports, one of which is the one you wrote by hand shortly after returning from France.

It's almost nine o'clock at night when you stretch your hands and get up with a small satisfied noise. You turn off the light on your desk, grab your jacket and go out.

You huddle in your jacket as you wait for the bus. The wind is particularly cold and biting today, you just hope you don't have to wait too long.

When you fear that no one will come, you hear a horn that almost makes you jump and then turn in that direction. It's Javier.

“Come on, jump up.” You look at him almost surprised. “I hope you don’t want to wait for that wreck that you don’t even know how long it’ll be until!” he adds, raising an eyebrow.

You zigzag your gaze from one corner of the half-deserted street to the other before opening the car door and getting in. The warmth of the passenger compartment immediately envelops you, making you relax against the backrest and moan with pleasure at this newfound warmth.

“What the fuck were you still doing there? Did you still have that report to finish?” he asks, giving you a quick glance before returning his focus to the road.

You nod, “Yes, I wanted to finish by tonight.”

“And did you succeed?” he asks you.

“Yes,” you reply, rubbing your hands together. “And what are you still doing here?” you ask, turning to face him.

“Andrea invited me for a drink.” You nod, feeling your heart skip a beat and finding yourself looking down, you shouldn’t have this reaction, you shouldn’t feel this way.

“I’m glad to hear that.” You say the last thing you should probably say, but you want to find a way to fill this strange silence.

"Yeah?" he asks you and from his tone you understand that he must be surprised too.

No, you are not.

“Sure.” you grumble, but look outside the car and watch the road pass by.

A strange, embarrassed silence follows, in which the sweetness and the weight of what happened between you comes back to light.

Neither you nor he say anything, you don't know what to say to him. You still feel embarrassed to be so close to him.

“Um, thanks anyway for... for the ride.” you find yourself adding, looking at him sideways as if afraid that your eyes might meet and you might say something that goes beyond the desired formality of your relationship.

“En cualquier momento! (anytime!)” he responds by driving slowly and confidently, almost as if he wants the journey to last much longer. Or maybe that's just how you interpret it.

Silence stretches between you again. You don’t know what to say to him. You were afraid something like this could happen.

“So, um.. what do you think of the new colleagues?” he asks you and you are surprised that he asks you for an opinion. But then you realize that it’s just a way to fill that numbing silence.

“Well, um.. the three boys are very friendly, cooperative and very prepared.” you answer, carefully choosing your words to describe them. You then turn to Javier and notice his perplexed look, “What?”

He shakes his head gently, he doesn't seem annoyed, but it's as if he's trying hard not to express his true thoughts. You see him purse his lips and then let out a small sigh.

“I'm not dating any of them,” you say even though you're not sure he really cares to know, but a part of you almost feels like you owe him this information.

His eyes are fixed on the road and he doesn't comment on your sentence, but you notice how his shoulders relax slightly and how the car is slowing down and then stops.

You barely notice that you are in front of your apartment building.

“Here we are.” he says pulling the handbrake almost straining to stare straight ahead.

“Here we are.” you repeat almost embarrassed and then turn your gaze towards him “So, um… thanks.”

He turns to you, stares into your eyes for a long time as if he wanted to say something else, but then gives up, lowers his gaze for a moment and then stares straight ahead again, “No problem.” he says simply “G’ night,” he adds.

You open the door, you're about to get out, but then you think better of it, you turn to him and he finally returns your gaze again, "Do you want to tell me something?"

You swallow as you feel like thousands of words are competing to be shouted and heard, but then you find yourself choking them all down, “No.” You reply, “And you?”

He takes a deep breath, but it sounds more like a sigh, “No.”

You nod, “See you tomorrow.” He nods, as you get out of the car and grab your keys to enter your building. As you close the door, you hear Javi’s car drive away.

Your heart pounds in your chest and for a moment, a long moment, you wonder what it would have been like if you hadn't said those words to him in your room, you linger on that fantasy for a while, regretting it soon after, only to tell yourself that you shouldn't think about it anymore, but not doing so will be really hard. When you are together the air inevitably charges with an electricity that passes through you and connects you in a way that pushing it away almost hurts.

You've been lying in bed for almost an hour, but all you do is stare at the ceiling. Javier and his gaze, Javier and his words are right there in front of you.

When you are about to fall asleep, your stepfather's words reverberate in your head with such force that you almost jump out of bed. You haven't thought about him in a while, but when you do, a feeling of remorse, guilt, and even shame wells up inside you. You weren't guilty, but your stepfather did everything he could to make you feel that way.

You remember that day all too well. It was a summer day, you wanted to swim at all costs, but the sea was very rough. You and your brother were two kids, you certainly didn't have the same perception of danger that your parents had.

You were a lively little thing, always smiling, reckless. Your brother was your exact opposite, shy, fearful, too cautious, a bit sulky. Your brother didn't have the same father as you, but you always felt like a brother to you. You loved each other very much. You would have done anything for each other, even doing something crazy just to not leave the other alone and so on that crucial day.

He followed you despite not being a great swimmer, a series of waves, one stronger than the other, knocked you down. You survived, he didn't.

When you came to and were informed of the tragedy, you cried, you sobbed his name and it was then that your stepfather thundered “It’s useless for you to cry now, you are a disaster, a catastrophe. Everyone around you dies, you were supposed to die. You don't deserve anyone's love because you pay back like this.”

Timid tears stream down your cheeks at the memory of those terrible words, you were a child then, but those words have dug so deep inside you that since then you have shied away from relationships with anyone. Even if it hurts to be alone, maybe it's better that way. You can't really hurt anyone. Except yourself.

[cloudedangels]

Extended Leave ♡ Part 5 (18+)

📖 Pt One 📖 Pt Two 📖 Pt Three

📖 Pt Four 📖 Pt Five

▪ Fem!Caleb x Fem!Reader ▪ AU ▪ 18+ ▪ minors pls do not interact ▪ part 6 of my Extended Leave series ▪︎ ≈ 2.3k words

After finally giving in, conversations need to be had. Day after angst and fluff and reader is covered in bruises bites and hickeys oopsie and you both are reminded: this *is* a leave, and it's one founded in a lie. Caleb can't stay forever.

cw/tags: fem!Caleb, fem!reader, AU, pilot!caleb, childhood friends to what are we?, slow burn, domestic intimacy, yearning, tension and tenderness, soft butch x soft femme, mutual pining, emotional repression, unspoken feelings, pining gone feral, bruises, soft dom!Caleb, service top, smut, sapphic romance, mutual obsession, quiet intensity, emotional intimacy, yearning, flirting, sapphic angst, possessive bbs, low-key yandere!Caleb, jealousy, self-doubt, dirty talk, freak4freak, we were never sisters, Caleb is intense but just enough, many smooches, pet names (pips[queek])

author's note: I'm sorry it took too long and is posted late af and is also much shorter than I wanted it to be everywhere. But our girls are back! This was hard to write but I stopped being indecisive!!! Once again the playlist are below! play the looped songs playlist for what I played while writing this part and vibes while reading. Enjoy! Ily!!! ♡bunnie♡

bunnie's looped songs for this part 🎧here🎧

full fic playlist 🎧here🎧

The next morning, some of the bruises on your hips are the same violet as Caleb’s eyes.

You press a finger to one—perfect. The ache blooms under your touch, a tender reminder of yesterday’s hunger. She sees you looking and her face does that thing again, the one where she’s halfway between praying and devouring you.

"I’m sorry," she lies, thumb brushing the mark. Her other hand fists the sheet like she’s holding herself back. From what? You’re almost scared to ask.

You are so sore. But the pain is sweet, a candied Polaroid developed under your skin, and when you shift in the tangled sheets, Caleb’s breath hitches like she’s the one who’s been ruined. Her pupils dilate.

"Liar," you murmur.

Her thumb stills. "What?"

"You’re not sorry." You arch into her touch just to watch her pupils blow wide. "You like it."

For a heartbeat, she looks caught—like you’ve peeled her open and found something feral curled inside her ribs. Then her grip tightens, just shy of bruising, and her voice drops to a rough whisper, "You—you like that I like it."

Then: “Does it hurt?”

“No,” you lie.

A shiver rolls through you. She smirks. Bites her lip.

The morning light slants through the blinds, the blue curtains open, as the light is painting stripes over the wreck of your bed. Your room has takeout containers littering the floor, chopsticks abandoned in half-eaten noodles, Caleb’s shirt hangs off the lamp, your panties are somewhere under the pillow or sheets. It smells like sex and soy sauce, and you never want to leave.

Caleb traces the curve of your hip, her calloused fingers mapping every mark she left. She asks again. "Does this one hurt?" She presses lightly.

You shake your head.

"Liar." Her thumb digs in—not much but just enough. You gasp unintentionally. Whimper, really. Her eyes darken. "That one does."

You kick at her shin, but she catches your ankle, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. "Mean," you mutter.

"You... wanted mean," she counters, nipping at your thigh. "You begged for it yesterday… I was trying to be sweet and soft until you kept going: ‘Harder, Caleb, more, please, bite me harder, fuck Caleb—’" Her raspy voice mocks yours in a higher-pitched lewd tone.

You clap a hand over her mouth, face burning. "Oh my god, stop it! I did not sound like that."

She licks your palm. You jerk back.

"Uh-huh." She grins, all teeth, and suddenly she’s hovering over you, biceps flexing as she cages you in. "Admit it. You love—"

A loud ‘growl’ cuts her off.

Your stomach, at the worst of moments.

Caleb blinks. Then she’s laughing, forehead dropping to your shoulder, her whole body shaking against yours. "Christ, pips. I did feed you last night, you know."

"Maybe… but not more than you distracted me last night," you grumble, but you’re biting back a smile.

She sighs, faux-suffering, and rolls off you. "Fine. Breakfast. Then I’m revisiting this conversation."

You watch her stretch, naked and unselfconscious, the morning light gilding the scars on her back—shrapnel, training accidents, a lifetime of holding back etched into her skin.

And for the first time, you think: She’s mine.

Not jiejie. Not protector. Yours.

The realization terrifies you.

This is easy, in a way that almost makes you sick.

☆☆☆☆☆

The day passes in a haze of tangled limbs and stolen kisses. Caleb, who’s never hesitated a day in her life, keeps stopping. She keeps just pulling back to search your face when you gasp, freezing when your nails dig into her shoulders.

"You’re thinking too much," you tease, nipping at her jaw.

She growls, flipping you onto your back. "You’re sore. You can barely move.”

"So?" You roll your hips against hers, delighting in the way her muscles lock. "You wanna do something about it, need my punishment, jie jie?" It slips out of your mouth like slippery fish. Oh fuck.

She freezes. It's kind of cute. She mumbles something about feeding you real food, rolling out of bed.

☆☆☆☆☆

It’s sunset when you finally say it. You're sitting on the bed with empty dinner plates on your nightstand. You've barely left the room and neither has she.

"Caleb... we... can’t do that anymore," you say, tracing the scar on her shoulder. "The… jie jie/mei mei thing. It’s not fair."

Caleb’s quiet so long you think she might’ve stopped breathing. Then, carefully: "What... do you want to call me, then?"

Yours, you think. Mine.

Instead, you kiss her, slow and deep, until she forgets to ask.

Caleb doesn't let you pull away. Her hand slides into your hair, holding you there, her mouth moving against yours like she's trying to rewrīte the words you just said. Like if she kisses you hard enough, she can make you unsay it.

When she finally breaks away, her breath's ragged. "Dummy. You don't get to drop that on me and then shut me up with your pretty mouth..." She mutters.

You press your forehead to hers. "I don't know what to call you."

"Bullshit." Her thumb brushes your lip. "You’ve always known."

She exhales sharply—too sharply, the way she does before a debrief—and suddenly she’s rolling off the bed, striding to the window with a stiffer version of that authoritative model-like walk of hers. Her shoulders are rigid, her fists flexing at her sides. The sunset paints her in gold, but her silhouette is all tension: a soldier braced for impact.

You follow. Not because she demands it, but because you refuse to let her hide. The wood floor is cool under your bare feet as you step into her space, close enough to see the pulse jump in her throat.

"You’re scared," she says, still staring out the window.

"You’re scared," you retort, and press your palm to the small of her back. The muscle there twitches under your touch.

She whirls, crowding you against the wall, but her hands catch themselves beside your head instead of grabbing you. Her exhale is a controlled burst. "Yeah. Fuck yeah, I am."

"You think... if we stop pretending," she says slowly, "that I'll remember I don't have to stay?"

The words hit like a slap. That's what she thinks this is about? ...Maybe it is? Who's to say?

The silence between you is thick enough to choke on.

Caleb turns her back to you walking around to peace, her silhouette sharp against the dying light. You watch the way her fingers twitch—like she’s itching to grab the control of a fighter jet, or maybe just something solid. Her body is tight like she’s spent an hour battling… you.

“You really think that’s why?” you say, voice softer than you mean it to be.

She doesn’t turn. “Isn’t it?”

You sit up, and the bruises on your hips throb. Proof. She was more shiftless, more chaotic.

“No,” you say. “I just think it’s fucked up to call you jie jie when I want you to kiss me… and like, fuck me… like that.”

Her shoulders shake. There’s a short, silent laugh. Then, “Yeah. Yeah, that’s fair.”

She still doesn’t look at you.

You swallow around the lump in your throat. “Are you mad?”

“Mad?” She finally turns, and her face is—

Oh.

Oh.

She looks wrecked. Eyes too bright. Jaw clenched like she’s holding back a storm. You’ve seen Caleb angry before. This isn’t anger. This is... terror. Well, terror and... something else.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say that. Every fucking day, since we were eleven,” she says, voice rough. “You think I’m mad?”

The air leaves your lungs in a rush.

She crosses the room to you in a few long tall strides, her hands frame your face, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. “You wanna know what I’m scared of?”

She murmurs it into your lips. “Not you leaving… Even though… that scares me some. And definitely not me staying.”

You blink at her.

“I'm scared the more you see me the more I'll scare you. With how much I—” she breaks. Was she? Was she going to say…

“With how intense I am…”

You stare at her. Then, because you’ve always known how to ruin her…

“Jie Jie?” you whisper, just to watch her flinch, to see if she will fight you.

Caleb blinks, fingers tightening in your hair.

“Don’t.”

You grin. “Make me.”

She kisses you like it’s a curtain she’s trying to close.

“Caleb. Just Caleb. Your Caleb.”

Her eyes flutter shut.

You trace the scar on Caleb’s shoulder, the one shaped like a crescent moon. Her skin is warm under your fingertips, alive in a way that makes your chest ache.

"Say it again," you murmur.

She doesn’t pretend to misunderstand. "Your Caleb," she whispers, but her voice cracks halfway through, like the words are breaking in her throat.

You kiss her—slow, deep—to stop the tremble in her jaw. When you pull back, her eyes are closed, lashes damp.

"We’ll figure it all out," you lie.

Her laugh is sharp. "Yeah? How?"

You don’t have an answer. Skyhaven isn’t far, but the Deepspace tunnels are. Even if she loves it. Is skilled at it. The best. The DAA owns her body, her time, her hands—the same hands currently gripping your waist like you might dissolve.

"You’ll wait," she says finally, and it’s not a question.

Your stomach twists. "I don’t even know what we are, Caleb."

"Does it matter?" Her thumb brushes your hip bone, right over the bruise. "You said no one else could have me. You swore it."

"That was when we were kids—"

"And now?" Her voice drops, dangerous. "You think I’d let anyone else touch you after this? After yesterday?"

The possessiveness should scare you. It doesn’t. It lights something feral in your blood.

"You don’t let me do anything," you snap, flustered by how you want her to double down.

Caleb’s grip tightens. For a heartbeat, her eyes go dark—barely-hidden violence and starving devotion. Your breath shallows. Then she flinches, like she’s startled by her own hunger, and releases you.

"Fuck," she mutters, dragging a hand through her hair. "I didn’t mean—"

"You did," you say, and your voice breaks. "That’s the problem."

The silence is suffocating. The sunset fades into the room, leaving the room in golden shadows. Caleb’s breathing is ragged, like she’s been running.

Then, her eyebrows knot into concern. "Pipsqueak, you’re crying," she says, stunned.

You swipe at your cheeks. "So are you."

She touches her face like she’s surprised to find tears there. When she looks at you again, something shifts. The wildness in her eyes blanks out, replaced by that old, unbearable care—the Caleb you know, the strong girl who carried you home on her back when you sprained your ankle at eight, the one who held your hair back when you puked after your first drink.

"Come here," she murmurs, and opens her arms.

You go. Of course you go.

Her heartbeat is steady under your ear. Strong. A soldier’s rhythm.

"We always circle each other," she says quietly. "You n me we're like entangled particles. Cut one, the other still feels it. If anything happens you're the first to know, and vice versa" Her fingers card through your hair. "You can’t get rid of me, pips. Even if you try."

You huff. "That’s not physics. That’s just you being stubborn."

"Same thing." She kisses your forehead. "Look: you know how fighter jets refuel midair?"

You pull back to glare at her. "Are you really using a DAA metaphor right now?"

She grins, all sharp edges. "Hear me out. The receiver jet has to stay perfectly aligned, right? Even when the tanker’s bouncing through turbulence. One wrong move, and the hose snaps. But if you can hold course…" She laces her fingers with yours. "You make it."

Your throat burns. "What if the turbulence is too much?"

"Then I crash." She says it like a vow. "But I’d rather go down with you than land safe somewhere else."

The words unravel you. You press your face into her neck, breathing her in. She's your favorite scent now. Lavender and musk and sweat and home.

"What happened to the lighthouse?" you mumble.

Caleb goes still. Then, slowly, she pulls back to cup your face.

"You are the lighthouse," she says. "In what world could I ever lose sight of you?"

Something in your chest cracks open. You kiss her, desperate, and she meets you with the same hunger. Her hands slide under your thighs, lifting you onto the dresser. The wood is cold against your bare skin, but Caleb is heat—her mouth on your throat, her teeth on your collarbone, her voice in your ear:

"Tell me to stay."

You gasp. "Caleb. You can’t."

"I will." She nips your earlobe. "Say the word, and I’ll desert. I’ll burn my uniform. Run anywhere you wanna. Fuck, I’ll—"

You clap a hand over her mouth. Her eyes gleam, defiant.

"Don’t," you whisper. "Don’t make it harder."

She licks your palm. You yank away.

"Fine," she growls. "Then here’s the deal: You wait. I call. You answer. I come back. And every time I land—" She pulls you to her again, presses your hand over her heart. "—you remind me who I belong to, yeah?"

The pulse under your fingertips is frantic. Or maybe that’s yours.

"Deal.” How could you disagree? Your heart both sinks and soars.

"Just—don't pretend it won't always take me building myself every time you leave and it destroys me."

she looks at you like you reached into her chest to take a bite from her heart. Like she knew, but you're finally saying so.

"Since we were kids, Caleb. I—I need you even when you go. Even when you have to." Need isn't the right word. But the right one won't leave your throat.

She looks like she knows though, because her eyes soften and her face melts into a desperate caricature.

She opens her mouth. Closes it.

A final nod is her only response, her lips pursed like the tied end of a balloon before a sigh tumbles out of her, sadness and heart, relief and hope. Surrender?

Caleb kisses you like she’s sealing a pact. Like she’s memorizing the shape of your lips for the long nights ahead. Like she’s already gone. Like you're coming with her.

🏷taglist: @chewbrry @grlpartdoll @jetterdonna @starryeyed-apple @mephisto-with-a-knife @er0da @dream-gardener

If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series lmk in comments or reblogs! (Must have age in bio or pinned)

[justgivemethephd]

30.12.2024

Happy Monday everyone! It feels like forever since I last uploaded, but I wanted to take some time offline and really enjoy my vacation to the fullest.

I’m going away for a few days again in the new year, and in this strange in-between period it’s been very hard for me to not do any work. I did have to briefly go into the lab to take care of my cells, but other than that I’ve been staying at home and relaxing. I’ve decided to dedicate more time to hobbies I haven’t touched in a while, and today’s victim was cross-stitching! I haven’t so much as looked at this project in probably over the year, but I ended up sitting at my desk and embroidering for about 5 hours. My mind was so quiet and I was so focused… it was honestly the perfect afternoon.

I’ve also been spending an hour or two every morning practicing languages, with a particular focus on Spanish as I was able to speak German more while we were in Austria. It feels so exciting to be able to spend more time on languages, as it’s definitely one of my more treasured hobbies, and it’s something I want to stay consistent with next year!

On a more important note, it seems that while I was away I managed to surpass 100 followers??? I’m very shocked that a blog I started solely to fall in love with my PhD again is actually interesting to people, but I’m very excited to be a part of this community and I hope I can continue to entertain you guys! Thank you so much for your support.

I hope everyone is enjoying the New Year’s celebrations! Take good care of yourselves and rest well!!

———

🎧 - Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen

🎮 - Planet Zoo

📖 - Salem by Stephen King