Benjamin F. Hardy (July 25, 1921-1994) was an African-American custom motorcycle builder who made the Captain America and Billy choppers for the 1969 Peter Fonda road movie Easy Rider.
The Captain America bike, made from a then 20-year-old, heavily customized Harley-Davidson panhead is considered one of the most iconic motorcycles ever built.
Working with another African motorcycle builder, coordinator Cliff Vaughs, Hardy built two 'Billy' bikes and three 'Captain Americas', one of which was destroyed in the making of the movie, the rest of which were stolen. Each bike had a backup to make sure that shooting could continue in case one of the old machines failed or got wrecked accidentally. The 'Billy' bike was typical of the custom motorcycles Black bikers were riding at the time.
Hardy and Vaughs remained largely unknown and uncredited for 25 years as they were not accepted due to being African-Americans, and were not welcomed into the mainstream motorcycle world in the USA.
Known locally as "Benny" and "King of Bikes" Ben Hardy's Motorcycle Service was located at 1168 E. Florence in Los Angeles. He was a mentor to many of the local motorcyclists in South Central, Los Angeles.
His work was featured in the “Black Chrome” exhibition at the California African American Museum
The traditional 9–5 workday is poorly structured for high productivity. Perhaps when most work was physical labor, but not in the knowledge working world we now live in.
Although this may be obvious based on people’s mediocre performance, addiction to stimulants, lack of engagement, and the fact that most people hate their jobs — now there’s loads of scientific evidence you can’t ignore.
The Myth of the 8 Hour Workday
The most productive countries in the world do not work 8 hours per day. Actually, the most productive countries have the shortest workdays.
People in countries like Luxembourg are working approximately 30 hours per week (approximately 6 hours per day, 5 days per week) and making more money on average than people working longer workweeks.
This is the average person in those countries. But what about the super-productive?
Although Gary Vaynerchuck claims to work 20 hours per day, many “highly successful” people I know work between 3–6 hours per day.
It also depends on what you’re really trying to accomplish in your life. Gary Vaynerchuck wants to own the New York Jets. He’s also fine, apparently, not spending much time with his family.
And that’s completely fine. He’s clear on his priorities.
However, you must also be clear on yours. If you’re like most people, you probably want to make a great income, doing work you love, that also provides lots of flexibility in your schedule.
If that’s your goal, this post is for you.
On average, I myself probably work between 3 and 5 hours per day. On days I have class, my workday is closer to 5 hours. On days I don’t have class, my workday is between 3–4 hours.
Quality vs. Quantity
“Wherever you are, make sure you’re there.” — Dan Sullivan
If you’re like most people, your workday is a blend of low-velocity work mixed with continual distraction (e.g., social media and email).
Most people’s “working time” is not done at peak performance levels. When most people are working, they do so in a relaxed fashion. Makes sense, they have plenty of time to get it done.
However, when you are results-oriented, rather than “being busy,” you’re 100 percent on when you’re working and 100 percent off when you’re not. Why do anything half-way? If you’re going to work, you’re going to work.
To get the best results in your fitness, research has found that shorter but more intensive exercise is more effective than longer drawn-out exercise.
The concept is simple: Intensive activity followed by high quality rest and recovery.
summary: you and ben hardy take a lil stroll together and revel in each other’s company.
warnings: none besides cute relationship tings
word count: 961
a/n: hey guys. it’s been... a long time. i was going to log out of this account on my computer when i found this in my drafts. i thought i had queued it up before i took a break from writing, but apparently not. so i edited it very lazily and decided to post it :) i miss you all and i miss writing. if you do by some miracle see this, thank you for following me/reading my work/etc. i love you i hope you’re doing well.
---
the TV was on in the background of your conversation with ben, a low mumble that sent sound waves into the air that settled gently in the space around you as you gazed at the blonde man across the kitchen.
it was the middle of autumn in new york city; the leaves were the most spectacular colors of red and orange and yellow and the air smelt of pumpkins and apple cider. every breath you took while standing outside was crisp; it felt like the first bite of a bitter-sweet apple when you stepped out first thing in the morning.
you were sitting on the counter, lazily spooning the vanilla ice cream into your mouth as you listened to ben talk. he was wearing that one mustard colored sweater you liked. you were positive he wore it on purpose just to make you smile a little bit.
his hair was growing in longer now; he had finished filming 6 underground and got to stop shaving the sides of his blonde locks and they were fuller and curlier than ever.
his low voice drifted across the island in the kitchen as you both talked about anything and everything. you were trying to catch up and remember what it’s like to live in each other’s presence after he recently arrived home from filming his most recent movie.
the conversation with ben was easy; rather, your whole relationship with ben was easy. everything about him was simplistic and never complicated. you could talk and bicker for hours but also sit in silence for days. it was never awkward with ben, never uncomfortable or weird.
you’ve never really believed in reincarnation but you’re almost postive in some past life you and ben had been soulmates, because how do two people manage to date and live together for as long as you have with absolutely no issues?
you’ve never had a real fight, never drifted or had to worry about if the spark was dying out.
like you said. being with ben was simple.
ben’s piercing eye contact and expectant expression drew you from your thoughts as he giggled at your lack of comprehension.
“what? sorry i got distracted,” you mumbled, taking a sip of the decaf coffee that was beginning to get a little too cold and was losing its appeal.
“i can tell,” he giggled, which made your heart flutter.
you hummed, pushing yourself off the counter and making your way over to the tall brit. you put your coffee mug down and made yourself at home in his arms which he had quickly wrapped around you.
he smelt so authentically like ben that you couldn’t help the smile that made its way to your cheeks. he looked down at you and couldn’t help but smile as well. you just had that effect on him.
you and ben slowly made your way over to the window, looking outside at the spectacular colored leaves on the trees and the remaining people rushing to get home in the cold. the sun was going to be setting in a few minutes.
“let’s go for a walk,” you spoke suddenly, causing ben to raise his eyebrows.
“at this hour?” he questioned amusedly, finishing up his cup of coffee. you nodded eagerly. you could see the gears turning in his brain as he pondered your offer.
“alright. let’s grab our coats and hats then, it’s quite chilly out,” you nodded with agreement as you slipped on your fluffy winter coat and a beanie you stole from ben’s collection.
“you might want to bring some gloves, it’s getting colder as the sun sets darling,” ben advised. you were stubborn though, and shook your head. you’d be perfectly fine without them.
you both promptly left your house, locking the door on the way out and you traveled down the steps and onto the sidewalk. the chilled air slapped you both in the face, your skin already reddening in it’s frigid hold.
you walked in silence for awhile, admiring the halloween decorations that were set up in the yards and on the porches that you passed. you caught yourself admiring ben a lot, too.
somehow, he never got tired of your spontaneous compulsions to go on walks in the very cold weather, or to go get chinese takeout at 2 in the morning. he never rolled his eyes or lost his patience. he just cared so much. it was hard for you to comprehend how he chooses to spend his life with you.
as you continued walking and the sky turned from pinks and purple to black, your fingers were completely numb. your pride stopped you from saying anything to ben for awhile, but now you needed some type fo warmth. all you had to do was lift your hands and look at him with a pout before he was taking off his gloves and handing them to you. not one eye roll or sigh. just immediate action.
maybe you were just extra emotional, but as he wrapped his arm around you while you slipped the already warm gloves on. you felt pin pricks in your fingertips as they warmed up and you felt them in your heart as well.
you never quite understood the meaning of love. but this, whatever you felt when you were around ben, was most definitely love. sometimes it’s comforting one in their deepest darkest times of need, and sometimes it’s running out in the rain to stop them from getting on an airplane and leaving.
but other times, it’s simply giving up your gloves on a cold autumn night just because the person you love needs them too.
Living with your parents after high school had its perks. You didn’t have to pay rent, and there was always a nice meal on the table, and all your bills were paid for. The downside, however, was that they still acted like you were their little girl. You had just turned twenty and was home from college for the weekend. You didn’t exactly want to come home, but your mom had been asking when you’d be back to visit next and had expressed how much she and your father missed you.
“Honey?” you heard your mom call from downstairs, “Dinner is ready.” You sighed and pushed out from the desk you sat at, laptop open, and made your way downstairs. You landed on the ground floor and made your way towards the dining room, taking the seat you always sat in.
“Why don’t you say grace, dear?” your father asked. You sighed, said the little prayer, then dug into dinner.
“So, how is college life? Meet anyone special lately?” my mom asked. Here we go again, you thought, the questions about when you planned on finding that Mr. Right. It was an endless circle of the same stuff every time you came home.
You swallowed your food, along with whatever venom you wanted to spit, and shook your head, “No, mom, no special guy friends for me. I’m really just focusing on my studies for now,” you told her. Any other parent would be pleased to hear it, but not your mom.
“Well, I’m glad honey, but you know you’re only in your prime for so long and I just don’t want you to look back one day and realized you’ve missed your window to find that right guy to take care of you,” she said, the same thing she always said. You carried on the night playing out the same conversation over and over. You’d counter with the fact that you didn’t need a man, or anyone for that matter, to ‘take care of you’ and your mom would smile and patronizingly tell you that she knew, but she’d feel so much better knowing you had someone to do so anyway. As always, your father would stay quiet as a mouse, offering no help to either side of the conversation.
By Sunday you were more than ready to leave back to campus. You were already on your way back, having left out around ten that morning with an excuse that you remembered you had homework to finish. The ride back, you chewed on your lip and thought about what your mother had said, what she always said, and even though you knew it was bullshit, it still ate away at you.
~~~
Nothing said a good night like a bottle of alcohol and some friends to go out with. Sundays didn’t usually have parties since most people used Sunday to recover from drinking Friday and Saturday, but this was a special occasion; it was some frat guy’s twenty-first birthday. Your friends dragged you out to this party and, even though you protested at first, you were glad they had. It was the most fun you’d had all year, and the night was just getting started.
You needed a breather, so you ascended the basement steps and made your way towards the living room. You found no open spots, so you decided to step outside to the front porch. The chill of the night air hit you instantly, and you thanked the many stars you had made this decision. There were only a few people on the porch, two of which left back inside together after a moment. You leaned against the concrete half-wall of the porch and caught your breath.
“You alright?” you heard a boy to your left ask. You looked over and, at first, only saw the glow of the cherry at the end of a cigarette. As your eyes adjusted and you moved towards him a bit, you noticed more of him. He was clad in a leather jacket, his jawline as sharp as a knife and the blond curls on his head concealed his forehead, “You look a little out of breath is all.” You detected an accent, British if your muddled mind was correct.
“Dancing will do that to ya,” you told him, “Just needed a moment to cool down is all.”
“You smoke?” he asked, offering you his cigarette.
You held up your hand, “Not that I don’t,” you told him, “And not things offered to me by strangers in the dark.”
The man chuckled, “That’s pretty wise,” he said, “But I’m Ben, what’s your name?”
“Y/N.”
“There, now we aren’t strangers anymore,” he chuckled.
You laughed as well, “Fair enough.” You located the phone that vibrated in your pocket and saw it was a text from your mom. You opened it to see a screenshot of some dating app advertisement and, in your intoxicated state, considered chucking your phone across the lawn in frustration. Instead, you just sighed heavily and locked the phone, sliding it back in your pocket.
“Something troubling you, love?” Ben asked.
You scoffed and folded your arms, leaning against the concrete wall Ben sat on, “My mother is driving me insane,” you confessed.
“Isn’t that what moms do?” Ben countered.
You shook your head, “No, you don’t understand. It’s like she’s stuck in the ’50s. She’s convinced I need to find a man to take care of me; like I’m some sort of child incapable of taking care of myself. If it were up to her, I’d drop out of college and focus solely on dating,” you told him. It felt good to rant, you hadn’t done so to your friends because they had heard the same thing many times before. But here, confessing to this stranger, it felt nice to really get it off your chest, “I just wish I could do something, anything, to get her off my back.”
“So,” Ben said, “You want to piss off your parents is what you’re saying?” he asked.
You sighed, “No…,” you said, “…Yes? I dunno, I just want my mom to treat me like I’m my own capable adult, that I’m all grown up and don’t need someone to take care of me.”
Ben took a drag of his cigarette, “Bring me home,” he offered.
You barked a laughed, “Come again?”
“Take me home to meet them, tell them I’m your boyfriend. They’ll see me and wish you’d never date again,” he explained.
“Why, 'cause you’re some perfect gentlemen or something?” you asked.
“No, I’m the exact opposite. Or, I can be to them,” he said, “I’ve got it all, all the things no parent wants their little girl to date. Tattoos, leather jacket, cigarettes, I even ride a motorcycle. I’m the poster child for bad boys, that’ll get them off your back for a while.”
You looked at Ben, mostly in disbelief that he was even suggesting it, but as your muddled, intoxicated mind thought more on it, the more perfect it seemed, “Let’s do it.”
~~~
The next morning you woke up with a headache, your head pounding as you sat up in your own bed. You hadn’t really remembered getting home, but you did remember drinking shot after shot sometime during the night. Your roommate, the friend you’d gone out with, lay fast asleep in her own bed, but you noticed she had put a water next to you as well as the bottle of pain meds; at least, you assumed it was her because you certainly didn’t remember doing it. You took the meds, drank the whole water bottle, then turned over and fell back asleep.
The next time you woke up was much better. After taking a moment to rub sleep from your eyes, you rolled over and grabbed up your phone. When you unlocked it, it opened to a saved contact that you were sure wasn’t there yesterday; it read ‘Bad Boy Ben’ as the contact name. You raised an eyebrow at it and tried to remember if you had exchanged numbers with anyone last night.
“Hey,” your roommate said as she entered the room, her toothbrush and toothpaste in her hand, “Sleep okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” you said, “Hey, do you remember us meeting a Ben last night?” you asked.
Your friend smiled, “How could you not? He was a total hottie and he seemed pretty interested in you,” she said.
“So the contact name ‘Bad Boy Ben’ is presumably him?” you asked.
She laughed, “Oh yeah, that’s him alright. That was what you called him all night. Pretty sure you even introduced him to other people like that. He just let you, too.”
Just then, your phone dinged and you checked it to see a text from your mom: ‘Did you see the picture I sent last night? Could be a good app to have on your phone!’ you read the text and rolled your eyes. Then it all came back: your conversation with Ben, how he had proposed the idea of bringing him home to mom. You opened your texts and typed up one to Ben: ‘Hey, hoping you remember me. We met last night?’
The response back was almost immediate: ‘How could I forget?’
You found yourself smiling at his words, then typed: ‘Still want to help me?’
‘Well, can’t say I’ve got much better to do so yeah, why not? When do we start?’
You thought for a moment, then replied, ‘What are you doing next Saturday?’
~~~~~
Saturday came sooner than expected and you actually felt a little nervous. You had been texting Ben here and there as the days went by, but you were still just getting to know each other and now you were faced with an hour-long car ride with him. You packed your small bag for the weekend and then sat around your room waiting for the text from Ben that said he was outside; he had insisted on driving and you couldn’t turn down saving gas so you’d agreed. Your phone dinged and you checked it to see that Ben was waiting outside.
You exited the building and saw him immediately. He was parked right outside your dorm building and was leaning against your ride; a motorcycle. That was hardly noticeable, however, now that you really got a good look at Ben. You hadn’t seen him since the party, and when you met it had been mostly dark and you couldn’t make out many details at all. Now, as you approached him, you took it all in. He was clearly a bit older than you, maybe by two or three years, and he had on the same leather jacket as when you met him, and his black skinny jeans and black biker boots matched. His hair was messy, probably from removing the helmet that sat on the front seat of the bike, but it was blonde and curly and you had to stop yourself from picturing your fingers running through it.
“Good afternoon, sweetheart,” he greeted as you stopped before him. He was just finishing up a cigarette and he crushed the butt under his boot before looking back up at you, “All set?”
“I think you’ve outdone yourself already, Ben,” you told him with a chuckle, “They’ll freak when we pull up on this.”
Ben laughed, “Go big or go home, right, love?”
“I guess so,” you mumbled as you looked over the bike. You hadn’t really ever been on the back of a motorcycle, but you didn’t want to let on that you were all but terrified of them.
“I can take your bag,” Ben said and held out his hand. You handed over the bag and he put it in a little trunk on the back of the bike, then returned to you with a second helmet in hand, “Can’t take off without this.” You nodded and slid the helmet over your head and began fiddling with the strap, “Here,” Ben said, “Let me.” His hands took over the strap of the helmet and you tried your best not to look or feel awkward as he stood so close to you.
When you were all set, Ben set to putting his own helmet on and then mounted the bike. He offered his hand to you and, after a second of hesitation, you took it and let him help you onto the back, “You’re gonna want to hang on tight, sweetheart,” he told you as he started up the bike. You did as he suggested and wrapped your arms around his torso in a decently tight grip as he took off.
It wasn’t nearly as bad as you imagined. In fact, you quite enjoyed it. You had given Ben the address of your parent’s house before you had left, and since he had a mount for his phone on the front it made following the map all the easier. Before you knew it, places you had grown up around began to appear and you knew you were close to home. Ben made the final turn and your house came into view.
“Well,” Ben said as he shut off the bike, “This is exactly the kind of place I pictured you lived.” He offered you his hand and you once again took it to accept help getting off the bike. He followed suit and helped you with the strap of your helmet again, then took off his own.
“I think that’s an insult?” you questioned with a smirk. Your neighborhood was nice, as was the house you grew up and lived in, “Yeah, I feel insulted I think.”
Ben laughed, “Not an insult, just an observation. Now I understand the need to piss off your folks,” he told you.
“Okay, so in advance, I’m gonna apologize because I’m sure I’ll need to. They aren’t exactly… good at hiding their disdain for people so-“
Ben held up a hand, “Sweetheart, I’ll be fine. I knew what I was signing up for when I said yes,” he assured you, “Now, how serious do you wanna play this?”
You pondered for a moment, “Screw it, let’s go as serious as believable.”
Ben smiled wide, “Go hard or go home, indeed,” he said approvingly, “I’m afraid I haven’t a ring to give you, though,” he joked.
“Maybe next time,” you joked back as you walked towards the front door. You entered the house and walked towards the living room when you assumed your parents would be, “Mom, Dad, I’m home!” you called as you walked in.
You heard movement and your mom appeared before you quickly. You had told her you had a special someone you wanted her to meet just a few days ago, so she was clearly eager to see who you had brought home. Her wide smile faded quickly as she got a good look at Ben, “Honey,” she said nervously, “Who is this?”
You smiled and leaned into Ben, your hand coming to rest on his chest, “Mom, this is who I told you about. This is Ben, my boyfriend,” you told her. You fought the urge to laugh when her face paled a little; clearly, your plan was working already.
“Oh,” she said, “Oh, lovely,” she fixed her face into a fairly obvious fake smile and extended her hand to Ben, “How do you do, Ben?” she asked.
Ben had his arm slung around your shoulder so his other hand was free, but he placed it in his jacket pocket instead of shaking her hand, “Yeah, I’m alright I s’ppose.”
Your mom looked between you and Ben in disbelief, then turned and made her way towards the living room, “Honey,” she called to your dad. You and Ben followed behind, but not before you threw a wicked grin to Ben and he grinned back in return.
“Dad,” you said as he got up to greet you. His reaction was equal to that of your mom’s, though his face seemed to pale quicker than her’s, “Meet Ben.”
Your dad walked over to the pair of you and gave Ben a long and hard once over. He cleared his throat and offered his hand to Ben, “Good to meet you, son,” your dad said.
Ben once again rejected the hand and shrugged, “Yeah, sure. Hey,” Ben said, “Where’s the toilet, I gotta take a piss.” Now you really fought the urge to laugh, he sure was good at pretending to be an ass and you were just eating it up.
After a moment of initial shock, your mom shut her slightly ajar mouth and pointed towards the downstairs bathroom, “Right over there, first door on your left.”
“Great,” he said and walked off.
Once you heard the door shut, your parents turned to you, “Well he seems… Y/N what on earth are you thinking?” your mom asked.
You played innocent and frowned, “What do you mean, mom? You’re the one that’s been on me about finding a man to take care of me, so I did. Ben’s got plenty of experience with women, he takes good care of me.”
“Don’t you think he’s a bit… old for you?” your dad asked.
You shook your head, “He’s a senior, I’m a sophomore, we’re not that far apart in age.”
“He just…” you mom began, “Where are the manners on that boy?”
“He’s got a thing against parents, it’s nothing personal, mom, I swear,” you told her. You heard the bathroom door and smiled at Ben as he approached you again.
Ben wrapped his arm around your shoulders again, “Miss me?” he asked you in a low voice.
“You know it,” you replied. He smiled at you and made a move you didn’t see coming; he kissed you. It was clearly unexpected, but you weren’t exactly complaining. It was a good kiss, incredible even, and lasted way longer than it should have in front of your parents. When Ben pulled away, you quickly composed yourself and turned back to your parents, a smile on your face and pretended like that was completely normal, “Right, well, I’m gonna show Ben around,” you told your parents. Without a word from them, you turned and led Ben out of the living room and around the house.
Upstairs, you showed him to your room and he set down his things where you instructed. You closed the door and turned to look at him as he finally shrugged off the leather jacket. He draped it across the back of your desk chair and then turned to you, “Was the kiss too far?” he asked, though you could tell he was amused.
You shook your head, “No, just unexpected is all. I think it certainly made a statement,” you told him.
He nodded, “Just lemme know if I’m going too far,” he said and leaned against the desk. He looked around, “So, this is your room, huh? Weird, I expected more… pink… and stuffed animals,” he joked.
You laughed and playfully pushed his shoulder, “Shut up,” you muttered.
Ben crossed his arms and looked at you, “So where exactly would you like me to sleep tonight?”
You frowned in thought, “Well, I think we’ve already crossed past the point of no return, and having you sleep on the couch and me in my room might give them some hope that you’re not entirely bad, so I say you and I sleep here. I can make up something on the floor or whatever if you’d rather be more comfortable not like…” you said, suddenly feeling awkward, “Sharing a bed or whatever.”
Ben pursed his lips, “Well, if me being on the floor is what is comfortable for you than so be it,” he told you.
“I mean,” you said, “I don’t really care either way. The floor isn’t exactly comfortable, and I have a pretty sizeable bed so I mean if you want, not that you have to or anything, but like, if you wanted we could, I don’t know, share the bed?” you stumbled over your words nervously.
“Whatever you wanna do is fine with me, sweetheart,” he told you, “You want me on the floor, that’s fine. You want me to share the bed with you, that’s fine as well.”
“Y/N?” you heard your mom call from downstairs. You turned to look towards the door and then back at Ben before holding up your pointer finger and then exiting the room.
“Yeah, mom?” you asked from the top of the steps.
Your mom stood there at the bottom of the stairs and seemed to sigh in relief, “Dinner will be ready soon,” she said. You nodded and then returned to your room.
“Do you think they thought we were fooling around?” Ben asked with a chuckle.
You laughed, “I’d almost bet my life on it,” you told him.
“We could stomp around, make some loud noises and pretend like we are,” he said with a smirk.
“Maybe later tonight, but I like the way you think,” you replied, “Come on, let's get down there.”
~~~~~
“Goodnight, mom,” you called as you shut the door to your bedroom. You turned to find Ben was in the middle of stripping off his shirt, “Oh, sorry,” you said and quickly turned back around.
You heard Ben chuckle behind you, “It’s alright, just changing into my sweats, love. I can turn round while you change if you like,” he said, “Oh, and you can turn around now.”
You turned to see he was sat on the bed, no shirt on and a pair of sweatpants on. You caught yourself looking too long, so you jumped into action to grab your bag and pull out your sleep clothes, “That’s alright, I have to brush my teeth and stuff anyway so I’ll just change in the bathroom,” you said and quickly exited the room.
When you reentered your room, Ben was lounging on the side of the bed you’d told him you didn’t sleep on, “Ready to really make your parents hate me?” he asked as you approached the bed.
You giggled, “You were serious about that?”
He shrugged, “I don’t see why not. Could be fun.”
You crawled into bed next to Ben and looked at him for a moment, “You’re crazy, you know that?”
He grinned, “Of course I do, but that’s what makes me so charming,” he said cheekily.
You laughed this time, “Oh, is that what it is?”
“Well,” he said and shrugged, “I have other good qualities of course. For example, I’m an excellent listener,” he said, “And I actually have fantastic manners when I’m not pretending to be a total jackass.”
You chuckled, “I thought my mom was gonna faint at dinner. Picking at your plate while my dad was saying grace was an excellent touch.”
It was Ben’s turn to chuckle, “I thought it might be. I’ll admit, I was worried it was a little too risky. I mean, I wasn’t sure if you would get upset with me for that.”
You shook your head, “Not at all. Not really religious like my folks.”
You two fell into silence for a moment, awkwardly looking at each other and then quickly looking away. “So,” you said, “Ready to freak out my parents once and for all?”
“You’re really sure about this? I mean, I’m one hundred percent on board but it’s a pretty big statement, ya know?”
You looked at him in thought, your lips pursed and said, “I’ve been getting the same speech my whole life basically. I practically grew up hearing that I needed a nice man to take care of me, that I shouldn’t solely depend on myself and whatnot. For once, I’d really like to stick it to them, ya know? So I think a big statement is exactly what we need.”
Ben nodded, “Then let's get to it.” You both smirked and stood up in the bed and began to gradually bounce in the bed. You smiled at Ben as the bed began to squeak.
“Big statement?” Ben asked.
“Big statement,” you confirmed. He gave you a wicked smile and then let out an incredibly sexual, and incredibly loud, moan. You were slightly taken aback just how… sensual it was, but pushed it aside and joined him. You had to admit, you felt incredibly silly doing so, but you let out a few pornographic moans and even threw in a dragged out moan of Ben’s name.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Ben said louder than necessary, “Cum for me.” You had to fight off the laugh that was ready to erupt as Ben threw you a dopey smile.
“Oh, Ben!” You called out, “Yes, right there baby!”
“Grand finale?” Ben said softly. You nodded and the two of you let out one final loud moan. You collapsed back into bed panting a little from bouncing and trying very hard not to laugh your ass off as you and Ben caught your breath.
“That was the best fake sex I’ve ever had,” Ben joked. You and he were laying on your backs looking up at your ceiling that was decorated with glow in the dark stars.
You laughed softly, “Same here.” You were throughout amused with the situation, but that wasn’t actually what was at the front of your mind. What was, however, was just how much Ben’s fake moans had turned you on. Fake or not, his deep voice letting out guttural moans and saying your name in a sensual way had you clenching your legs together as you laid in bed.
“So,” Ben said after a moment.
“So.”
“Guess we can get to sleep then. Can’t wait to see their faces in the morning,” he said.
“Yeah,” you said, “Me either.” As you both laid there, you wondered if Ben was having the same thoughts that you were, “Well, goodnight.” You said and turned over to face away from him.
“Yeah,” he said, “’Night.”
You look straight ahead of you, the wall seemingly staring back, taunting you. ‘You have the hots for your fake boyfriend’ it seemed to tease. ‘You want to know what his real sex moans sound like’. The sound of Ben’s fake moans replayed in your head as you laid there. Your mind wandered, you wondered what his face would look like as he orgasmed, what his final moan would sound like. You wondered what his slender fingers would feel like on your bare skin, what they’d feel like inside you.
You sighed and turned over in your bed, now angered at the wall that wouldn’t shut up. You turned right over to see Ben facing you, and your movement prompted him to open his eyes to look at you in question. You laid there, facing the most attractive person you had ever seen, and couldn’t help but let your eyes slide down to look at his lips. He caught this, of course, since his face wasn’t even a foot away from yours.
“Y/N,” he said softly.
“Yeah?” you whispered back.
“I-“ he began, “Can I-“
“Kiss me?” you asked. You didn’t even wait for any sort of response, “Please do,” you practically whined. His response was immediate; he placed his hand on the side of your face and brought you closer, his lips crashing against yours. It was passionate, it was hot, and it was everything you expected it to be. The kiss you two had exchanged in front of your parents was for show, there wasn’t any emotion behind it really, but this? This? It took your breath away. Ben took his hand away from your face and moved it further down your side and around to the small of your back. He used this new position to pull you even closer, which you didn’t protest.
You didn’t protest so much that you took a bold risk and pushed Ben back a bit so that he was flat on his back, then you swung your leg over his body and hovered over him. You broke the kiss finally to sit up a bit and move your hair out of the way before leaning back in to capture him in another breathtaking kiss.
You were full of bold moves, it seemed, as you broke away from his lips and began kissing along his jawline and down his neck, “Y/N,” Ben panted.
“Tell me to stop if it’s too far,” you breathed against his neck.
“Don’t stop, please keep going,” he begged. You smirked and nibbled a bit here and there on his neck, then trailed your kissed further south. You kissed down the ridges of his abs and stopped just short of his sweatpants band. “Keep going, keep going,” Ben repeated. You looked up at him and locked eyes with the pretty panting blond and gave him a small smile. You hooked your two pointer fingers inside the band of the sweats and dragged them down. You let out a soft moan when you saw he had gone commando; his dick sprang up and stood at attention, waiting for you. You licked your lips, biting your lip slightly before leaning in and taking the head of his cock in your mouth. He let out a much more real, much more throaty moan compared to his fake ones. The sound egged you on; you needed to hear more.
You weren’t exactly very experienced, but you had gathered enough from your friends and from stories you read to give you a general idea of what to do. You slowly worked the member further into your mouth, working the parts you couldn’t fit with your hand. It was difficult, at first, to find a good rhythm while trying not to gag and still breathe through your nose, but once you finally got passed that it was easier with each bob.
You were achieving your goal, too. Ben’s moans became more frequent and more audible as you went. His hand came up and tangled up your hair with his slender fingers, pulling it every so often when you hit a particularly sweet spot.
“Sweetheart, Y/N, I-,” he huffed, “I’m so close.” You knew immediately where you wanted his load, and you made it clear when you picked up speed a bit. Ben was a moaning mess as you pulled him to the brink, his load exploding in your mouth as he let out a final, loud moan. You pumped his cock a few final times, ensuring you had gotten all of his cum, then pulled off with a sloppy pop. You wiped up around your mouth and crawled back up towards Ben to show him an empty mouth.
“Christ,” he muttered, “You’re pretty good at that.”
You smiled at him, “Why, thank you,” you said as you laid back down beside him and faced him.
He seemed to get this look all of a sudden; it seemed sinister. “My turn,” he said. Before you could even comprehend what was happening, he had you flipped onto your back and was nipping at your inner thighs.
“Good Lord,” you panted. Your inner tights were incredibly sensitive, and having Ben so close to the place you wanted him most made you even wetter than you were before. He was teasing you, planting kissed and small love bite to your tights, “Bennnn,” you whined, “I didn’t tease you much, don’t be mean.”
He chuckled and threw his gaze up to look at you, “Sorry, sweetheart, can’t help myself. Love having you squirm under me.” He obliged, however, and quickly discarded your underwear. He parted your legs, held them apart as best he could with one hand, and with the other hand, he took his middle finger and slowly run it up your slit, parting your pussy lips. He collected some of the juices you’d accumulated and ran his slicked up finger up and down your cunt.
“Bennnn,” you whined again.
He chuckled, “All right, all right,” he said and drove right in. He ran his tongue from your hole all the way to your clit and you released a moan so sexual it surprised even you. He toyed around a bit, poking his tongue here and there to get himself familiar with what made you moan louder. When he finally decided he had found just the right spot, he flicked his tongue to verify. A jolt of pleasure ripped through your body and you gripped at Ben’s hair to ground yourself.
Ben was a man in the desert without water and your pussy was a tall, cool drink of water. At least, that’s what it felt like as Ben vigorously flicked his tongue over your clit. It was intense, and you knew you weren’t gonna last nearly as long as you wanted to. You tried to fight off your orgasm, tried to ensure this heart-stopping sensation never ended, but it had been a while since your last orgasm and Ben was just so damn good.
In just a few minutes, you were a panting mess, “Ben,” you managed to breathe out, “Ben, don’t stop. So close.” He seemed to pick up the pace if that was even possible, and seconds later you moaned out his name and came hard. You saw stars for a few seconds as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. You were pulling at his hair, moaning his name, but he kept going. You were so sensitive, so wrecked already, but god help you, you needed Ben to keep going, so you didn’t stop him. He licked you through your entire orgasm, and just when you thought he was done, he kept going.
You moaned loud as he brought his hand up and easily slid two fingers inside. You were out of your mind, not a thing on your brain besides the intense pleasure Ben was providing right now. The fingers added something you didn’t even think was missing until they were there. And just when you thought ‘this is it, this is the best thing I’ll ever feel’, Ben curved his fingers and quickly found a spot inside you that you thought was just a myth; your G spot.
Well, that second orgasm came faster than you ever imagined, but there you were, pulling on Ben’s beautiful curls with one hand while the other clawed at the bedsheet. You turned your head and managed to cover your mouth with a pillow as you screamed out in pleasure. Ben licked you through that orgasm as well. When he felt you had calmed a bit, he removed his fingers and finally removed his mouth from your core. You were dizzy, you were seeing more stars than before, and your breathing made it seem like you just ran a five-minute mile.
You knew Ben had laid back down next to you, but your brain was still in shock and your voice seemed to had run away with your last orgasm. You took in a few deep breaths, began to gather your thoughts, and mustered up enough energy to turn and face Ben.
“You alright?” he asked, his clean hand coming up to gently stroke your face.
“That-“ you attempted, “There are no words. I’ve never experienced-,” you faltered, “That was incredible.”
Ben chuckled, “Glad you enjoyed it.”
“I never want to do anything but that for the rest of my life,” you said with a laugh.
“Well, that can certainly be arranged.”
“This is not how I imagined this night would go.”
“Me either,” Ben said, “It's way better.” You smiled at him, “Do you need anything? I know that last one was pretty intense. Here,” he said and reached over to grab up a water bottle he had brought from downstairs, “You should drink some water.” You gladly accepted the water and took a few sips before passing it back to him.
You smiled at him as he looked at you with soft eyes, then leaned in and planted a kiss on his lips. This one was much more refined than the others, much gentler and just as passionate. When you broke away, you cuddled up next to him and laid your head on his chest. “Goodnight, Ben.”
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he muttered quietly. You quickly drifted off to bed, comforted by Ben’s steady breathing and warm embrace.
Can u do another famous reader thing but they’re doing Spill Your Guts and she keeps getting asked about Ben cause of the flirting on IG
heres the shameless ig flirting!
“let’s take a quick look at what we’ve got” james announced, a nervous smile on his face as he looked at you with raised brows. you nodded and took a deep breath, grimacing as you saw some of the plates.
“hot sauce, bird saliva, there’s… a giant water scorpion” the entire audience groaned and your face turned up in disgust.
“we’ve got some jellyfish” james said and your eyebrows raised, “is that real? holy shit”
“oh but wait ‘cause there’s bull testicles” the audience chuckled and you added, “oh yes, ofcourse! just some casual bull testicles!”
“and our last three… salmon smoothie, bug trifle and the one they’ve all been waiting for…” the audience jeered him on, “…cod sperm!”
you groaned and contorted your face, “what have i agreed to” you whined, jokingly.
“okay so, we’ll have y/n ask me a question first… oh god i am so not ready for this” he concluded.
“so if you wanna pick my forfeit meal for me, y/n.” he breathed deeply, looking at all the substances in front of him. you spun the table so the hot sauce sat in front of him.
“great.” he said, straight-faced.
you picked up the small card on the table that sat next to you and eyed the question before you chuckled and covered your mouth with the card to stop you from cackling.
“this is a good one,” you said. “james.” you deadpanned, “what is my worst song?” you asked with a smile. “come on, it’s not that hard!” you giggled.
“yeah, it’s not you answering the bloody question!” james bantered.
the audience were shouting encouragements and you looked at james with a raised brow as he looked down at the sauce. he grimaced as he sat back on his chair.
“okay, y/n, you know i am a massive fan of all your work and i have endless amounts of respect for you and your music.” he began, “but, i’m gonna have to say….” he moved his finger to his chin as if to look like he was thinking. he named one of your very old songs, one from your first album.
“i hate that one too, its alright, james” you teased.
“i never said i hated it!” he defended with a chuckle.
“my turn” he smiled slyly, before turning the table so that the salmon smoothie was in front of you.
“oh god” you muttered.
he picked the card up and gave it a once over.
he chortled as he read it and the audience wooed in anticipation.
“if you answer this, i’ll drink the bloody smoothie myself” he joked.
your eyebrows shot up as he read the question, “y/n, your new world tour is almost here, but which city are you least excited to perform in?” he covered his own face with the card as he rocked back and forth in laughter.
“oh that’s unfair!” you complained jokingly, “i’m excited for all of them!” you whined. you couldn’t answer the question, simply because you didn’t have an answer, so you picked up the smoothie and took a sip. you purposefully blocked out the sound of the audience groaning as you drank it. you moved the cup away from your mouth and spat the sip out in the bucket next to you. you washed your mouth out with the water provided and shivered as you were hit by the aftertaste. the audience laughed and you frowned playfully.
you picked up a card for james after you selected the scorpion as his forfeit. you gasped as you read his question and repeated his earlier statement, “if you answer this one i’ll eat the scorpion for you”. he shook his head as he realised how bad the question must have been, and still appeared to be shocked as you asked him “who has been the most boring guest on the late late show?” his face contorted as he chuckled in terror.
“i’m gonna have to eat the scorpion… i have the answer, though.” he wiggled his brows before eating the scorpion. his reaction was hilarious, but before you knew it the cod sperm was in front of you and james was laughing at your face as you eyed it.
james giggled for a while before he showed the camera the question, the audience wooing as you got more and more nervous. “this could be an exclusive people!” james shouted before asking you the question. “who was the last person you kissed, y/n?” you gasped dramatically.
the public didn’t know about you and ben yet, though they’d probably seen the shameless flirting on their instagram feeds. “but wait, wait, wait- before you do anything, let me bring someone out who could help your decision…” as you looked up you saw ben walking towards the table, a smirk on his face. the last time you’d seen ben was before you came on stage.
you’d asked him to come with you to the show so that you could both go out for a meal after. you looked at him with raised brows as he sat down on a chair next to james.
“were you in on this? you little shit” you chuckled.
ben held his hands up in defence, “no idea what’s going on love, just got asked to come out here.” he said with an innocent smile.
the last person you kissed happened to be ben, in the green room just before you came on, he swept you into his arms seconds before your name was announced.
you didn’t really want to announce your relationship with ben when you two hadn’t agreed prior, especially not when you were both unprepared to answer questions. so you picked up the cod sperm and looked directly into ben’s eyes as you placed it into your mouth.
you gagged as you tasted it, watching ben and james laughing and clapping, “you’ve basically just given us the answer, y/n” james joked, to which you flipped him the bird, playfully. ben applauded you as you grimaced at the taste.
“now y/n, to spit or to swallow…?” james quipped, you spluttered as you heard him asking, “why don’t you answer that one for us ben?”
ben just chortled as his eyes found you again, knowing the answer perfectly well.
