#Benny cross x

[austinbutlerslovers]

Benny Cross: The Bikeriders Fantasy

Label Mature 18+

Chapter 1 Handsome Stranger 🔗 Chapter 2 🔗 Chapter 3 🔗 Chapter 4

Summary Heading out late to help spot a friend for cash at a local bar leads you into a den of wolves. Bikers frequent the place intimating you and sexually harassing you as you try to enjoy the evening with you friend. As she gets your drinks leaving you momentarily alone you become so frightened you want to cut the night short and leave. That is until you see the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on in your life. Benny, the handsome alluring biker that takes your breath away. The night is filled with wild twists and turns as you navigate your newfound feelings for this attractive stranger in your contrasting worlds.

10k word count

♠️ Passionate Smut ♠️ Slow burn • savior/hero complex•independent female•propositioned by Benny •Benny claiming you•Benny wants to be yours •stimulating make outs• nipple play• oral fem • fingering fem• body worship•extreme orgasms •missionary• raw• creampie • after care

📖 Proofreader @purejasmine 🫦 Smut Consultant @burnthheparaphilia 💭 Plot Consultant @austinbutlerfly

Heavily Based on The Bikeriders Movie 🏍️ Inspo: anonymous requests combined 🏍️ •Benny strong silent type •Benny a wanderer/ nomad -reader stable home •Benny submissive to reader •Benny love obsessed w reader •Benny being nurtured/cared for by reader •Recreate meeting Benny + smut •Benny as a gentle/passionate lover *more requests in upcoming chapters*

Handsome Stranger

It is late night and you are at home, alone in the house willed to you by your parents. There is an eerie silence as you do the dishes only hearing the splash of water and the clunk of the plates submerge in the water and hit the basin.

The house is a large two story brick and mortar in the suburbs of Forest Glen, Chicago surrounded by a lush green lawn that you played on as a child. You grew up your entire life here, each room filled with memories of laughter and warmth.

It was a happy home, filled with the smell of your mother’s cooking at supper and the sounds of your father’s music playing softly in his office in the evening as he worked.

Your parents worked hard to create a nurturing environment, and their love was evident in every room of the house.

The day they’re perished was the day your world stopped. You quit your job at the local bookstore and began relying heavily on your friends for emotional support during your time of grief

The house, once a place of joy, became a silent reminder of your loss.

Your parents, both hardworking upper middle class, were dedicated to ensuring your future was secure. Setting up a trust fund and a life insurance policy.

As their only child, you inherited everything after their passing: the family house filled with memories, the cars they had carefully maintained, and your dad’s rental property in the next town over.

With your father being the former Director of Operationsfor Ford Motors and your mother being an accountant they had always prioritized your well being, wanting to provide you with a solid foundation for a successful and stable life.

No longer having their reliable guidance and without needing to work, you found solace in reading books about franchising and exploring potential business ventures, like owning several local laundromats in town, something your father had always wanted to do.

The idea of managing a business intrigued you, offering a sense of purpose and structure in your otherwise free and unoccupied life.

However, your friends, seeing you single and often too invested in your books, worried about your sanity and social well being. They frequently pulled you out to mingle, encouraging you to enjoy yourself and meet new people.

They wanted you to remember that there was more to life than just moping alone with your inherited wealth, they wanted your to find happiness and fulfillment with a husband.

Though you had dated a few men in town, they couldn’t get over the fact that you wouldn’t submit to traditional gender roles. Having your own finances allowed you to readily dismiss them at the first signs of male authority, decideding quickly you would no longer submit to any man.

The times were changing during the late ‘60s, and women were prevalently rebelling against domestication becoming in charge of their own lives. This cultural shift resonated deeply within you, sparking a fierce independence.

As you place a dish in the drying rack, your phone rings in the kitchen. You pull the receiver and press it to your ear and shoulder as you answer. It’s one of your close friends Donna in distress, you can barely hear her above the loud music playing in the background of her location.

“Hey, I’m so sorry to bother you so late. You know I wouldn’t unless I really needed to, but I’m at a bar and I’m short on cash. It’s about five bus stops from your place. Can you come spot me? Maybe have a beer with me? I can pay you back with my check on the first.”

You smile, your friends constantly ask to borrow money here and there, and you are never one to deny them. You understand how hard it is to work nonstop only to have spare change for fun. You balance the phone on your shoulder, the cord stretching across the kitchen as you place the last dish in the drying rack.

“Of course, don’t worry about it,” you say warmly. “I’ll be there in a bit. Which bar are you at?”

She gives you the name and address and you quickly jot it down on a notepad by the phone. It’s in seedier area of town but your friend has always had a knack for finding the hippest places around, so you think nothing of it deciding to join her.

“You can hold off on the beer. I think I’ll have a pop though,” you correct her. Your friend laughs.

“Not at this bar, dress up. The guys are having a meeting here tonight.” she informs you.

“Sure, alright, I’ll dress up,” you say, not entirely sure what she means by the guys meeting up but assuming it’s the usual locals.

You hang up, a small smile playing on your lips. Helping out your friends always brings you a sense of fulfillment. You pull on a lilac colored sleeveless form hugging top with white jeans and platform sandals. Nothing too fancy, but it would definitely draw the male gaze. You check your reflection, admiring your attractive features as you brush your hair, letting it cascade over your shoulders in soft waves.

You pull out a wand of mascara, carefully applying the dark, thick formula to your lashes, enhancing the depth and allure of your eyes then framing them with eyeliner. Next, you glide a rich shade of red lipstick across your full lips, the color making them look even more inviting. You then take a brush and apply a touch of rouge to your cheeks, blending it in for a natural, rosy glow.

Satisfied with your appearance, you give yourself one last approving look turning to check your form in the mirror. You would never head out this late for your safety, but because the bar is nearby and you are meeting a friend, you grab your purse and head out into the midsummer night of Ohio.

The air is warm and filled with the sounds of crickets. The sky is clear, stars twinkling above as you make your way to the bus stop. The bus is still running, and you hop on, finding a seat near the back. The city lights blur past the window as you ride through the familiar streets, your mind wandering to the night’s possibilities. You exit the bus a few stops later, the bar just a short walk away.

The brick building is lit up, neon signs flickering, casting a colorful glow on the sidewalk. You can hear the faint sound of music and conversation from inside. Tons of motorcycles are lined up out front, their chrome accents glinting under the streetlights. The air is filled with the mingled scents of cigarettes and gasoline. The atmosphere is charged, alive with the energy of the night

You take a deep breath and step through the door, scanning the loud crowded bar for your friend. The atmosphere hits you immediately this is not the usual crowd. The bar is filled with rough looking bikers, their leather jackets adorned with patches and insignias. Their faces are rugged, some sporting thick beards and tattoos snaking up their arms and necks. It feels as if the room falls silent for a moment as you walk in, all eyes turned to you, scrutinizing you with a mix of curiosity and predatory interest.

You feel their stares, some of the men openly leering.

“You need a man?” one of them calls out, his voice ripping with insinuation just above the music.

Another smirks and gives you a once over, “Looking for some fun tonight?”

Your heart begins to race, worry creeping in, it’s as if they can sense your unease, like predators sensing prey. You scan the room desperately, searching for your friend. Finally, you spot her waving at you from a corner table, looking both relieved and slightly apologetic.

You make your way through the crowd, the bikers parting reluctantly. Some of them brush against you, while others continue to watch you, their gazes and unwanted touches making your skin prickle.

You reach your friend Donna’s table and slide into the seat next to her, trying to steady your nerves. She is sitting across from a biker who is nursing a beer, his rugged appearance adding to the intimidating atmosphere.

“Hey,” she says softly, clearly aware of the tension in the bar. “Thanks for coming. I’m really sorry about this. I didn’t realize you were gonna dress up this nice…that’s gonna make things a bit more… interesting for you tonight.” She reveals with a grin.

“It’s okay,” you reply, forcing a smile. “Let’s just get you sorted and I’ll head out of here.”

“You should stay a while. These guys are something else,” Donna says as you hand her the money she needs. “You’re the best,” she adds, smiling as she counts it but you can’t help but feel the weight of the bikers’ stares.

This night has turned into something far different than what you expected, and you can’t shake the feeling of being a rabbit in a den of wolves.

The biker across from Donna leans forward, a smirk playing on his lips. “Name’s Cockroach,” he introduces himself, his voice cheerful and welcoming.

You give him a wary eye, trying to gauge his intentions. “Nice to meet you,” you manage, your voice steady despite the unease swirling inside of you.

Cockroach’s eyes flicker with amusement as he looks you over, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Don’t worry, we don’t bite… much,” he says with a chuckle, his gaze never leaving yours.

Two more bikers approach. One is wearing only a vest, his bare chest exposed, while the wears a heavily stained t-shirt. They both look drunk, their eyes bloodshot and their steps unsteady. They reek of stale beer and cigarettes, clinging to each other as they sway slightly, propping each other up.

“Hey, you-as wants-ta go home with me?” The one in the vest slurs to you, his words barely coherent.

“What about me you wanna live with me? The other chimes in with a grin before taking another swig of his beer. He leans in too close, the overpowering stench of alcohol heavy on his breath

You slightly recoil at their statements, trying to keep your composure.

“No thank you, I’ve got a date. I’ve gotta be home by midnight,” you quickly lie, feeling extremely uneasy and not wanting to engage with either of them.

Cockroach lets out a hearty laugh, the sound rough and loud. “You hear that, boys? Cinderella’s got a date and she’s gotta be home by midnight or else she’ll turn into a pumpkin!” The group erupts into laughter, the sound echoing through the bar.

Cockroach gets up and slaps the shoulders of the two bikers and they wrap their arms around each other as they head to the bar. You watch as they stumble away, their laughter still ringing in your ears.

You look around and begin to notice several of the bikers gathering together, casting glances your way and sharing whispers with one another. Already on edge, you lean towards Donna to warn her. “Look at them, it’s like they’re planning something over there.” You say trying to keep your voice steady but your panic is evident.

She shrugs it off. “Don’t worry about them,” she says trying to reassure you.

“I gotta go,” you say abruptly, the unease becoming too much.

Donna laughs. “Just sit tight. I’ll go get you a drink,” she says and stands up.

You watch her walk away, completely at ease among the bikers, she moves with a casual confidence, even giving a friendly pat on the back to one of the bikers as she passes by. It’s clear she feels comfortable in this environment, blending seamlessly with the rough crowd.

Feeling even more exposed now that you’re alone, the atmosphere feels thicker, the air heavy with the scent of beer, smoke, and something else you can’t quite place.

You glance around nervously, noticing the bikers’ eyes still lingering on you, their whispers becoming more apparent.

You can see them watching you now, their gazes more intense and predatory, their eyes following your every move, making your skin prickle with unease.

You quickly stand, clutching your purse, scanning the bar for your friend to head out to leave, and that’s when you see him the most physically stunning man you ever laid eyes on.

He is at the pool table, standing stoically with his hands resting on the edge. His broad shoulders and muscular frame are hard to miss, accentuated by a sleeveless black shirt. His presence commands the room, and despite the rough crowd around him, he stands out with an air of calm authority.

For a moment, everything else fades away. Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of excitement and nervousness flooding your senses. You watch him, mesmerized by his effortless confidence and the magnetism.

He gazes down, seemingly lost in thought, and when he looks up, you get a full view of his handsome face in every detail. His piercing blue eyes that look like they could see right through you, a head of thick tousled sandy brown hair, a rugged goatee surrounding his full enticing lips, and a strong, chiseled jaw . You feel a thrill shoot right through you, his looks take your breath away.

His eyes slowly lock onto yours, and it’s as if he can sense every bit of your attraction for him. His gaze intensifies, showing a clear desire for you in return. He straightens up, revealing his towering height and makes his way over to you with determination in his stride.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you feel a rush of excitement and nervousness as you sit back down, almost in a daze, watching the confident way he approaches your table.

He turns the chair across from you around backwards and slowly sits revealing every detail of his chiseled muscular arms as he casually rests them on the edge.

“I’m Benny,” he says, his voice soft and rich like honey.

Your voice comes out weaker than you intend as you respond, “hello…”

He stares at you intensely and though you try to meet his gaze, your eyes keep wandering down to his chiseled muscular arms and back up to the handsome features of his face.

He studies every detail of you in return his blue eyes slowly trailing over your body. His eyes tracing the line of your neck, lingering on the delicate skin there, before moving to your full, red lips. He continues up to your eyes, his stare deep and inviting, never breaking contact in a testament to his desire for you.

The intensity of his gaze makes your skin begin to tingle and your heart race. You’ve never been stared at in such a way. Despite your nervousness, you find that you like his unwavering attention, it makes you feel desired and alive in a way you’ve never felt before.

Summoning all of your courage, you finally regain the ability to speak.

“What are we doing here, just shooting the breeze?” you ask, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. Your voice wavering, betraying the nervous excitement inside of you.

Benny’s smile widens, a beautiful smile that captivates you entirely. “I guess so,” he answers, his eyes never leaving yours.

When Benny doesn’t continue the conversation, a thick silence settles between you two. His eyes gaze into yours with an unspoken longing that makes your heart race and the intensity of the moment becomes overwhelming.

“Benny… I’ve gotta go home,” you relent, watching as his demeanor changes.

“Oh…okay” Benny responds the sadness flickering in his beautiful eyes, his deep voice tinged with disappointment.

His gaze lingers a moment longer before he lifts his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Alright,” he says, a knowing smile on his lips, his voice still that soft, intoxicating murmur. “You gotta go,” he echos.

When he rises from the chair and walks away, your heart is pounding as your eyes follow his every move. You know you won’t forget your encounter with Benny anytime soon.

Just as Benny leaves, another biker sits down in front of you, taking his place. His presence is commanding and intense, exuding seniority.

His appearance is cleaner than the others; his black hair is slicked back neatly, and his stern face exudes authority. He wears a neat black button up tee with white etching along the seams, giving him a polished yet intimidating look. His sharp eyes, slightly narrowed, survey you with a calculating gaze.

“I’m already spoken for,” you announce,knowing in your heart you are already drawn to Benny.

The biker gives you a knowing look. “Don’t worry,” he says with casual confidence.

“Don’t worry about what?” you shoot back, wanting to deter any of his advances.

“I’m Johnny, the president of this club,” he says beaming with pride before continuing. “The guys, they just want t’have some fun. But I’m not gonna let nothing happen to ya,” he says with a twinkle of mischief in his eye.

“What’s was going to happen to me?” you ask, your voice tinged with concern.

Johnny leans back, his eyes steady on yours. “Nothin’,” he reassures you but his eyes shift.

As he studies your demeanor you realize it must be very late and excuse yourself.

“It was nice to meet you, Johnny, but I’ve really gotta go,” you say politely , and look around the bar for Donna to say your goodbyes. When you are unable to find her a slight panic sets in, and Johnny watches as you hurriedly leave the table the rise in your nerves evident.

Leaving is more difficult than coming in. More bikers have come to the bar, making you have to weave through the crowd. You are groped several times, slapping a hand or two away on your way out as they yell sexually suggestive advances.

“Hey, sweetheart, where you going in such a hurry?” one calls out, his eyes raking over you.

“Don’t be shy, honey, come sit on my lap,” another one jeers, reaching out to grab your wrist.

“Why leave so soon? The night’s just getting started,” a third biker says, his hand grazing your lower back.

“Let me show you a real good time,” one whispers in your ear, making your skin crawl.

You push through the throng of men, your heart pounding and your breath coming in short, panicked bursts. As you finally make it to the door, the catcalls and whistles follow you out into the night.

You don’t stop moving until you are a safe distance across the street at the bus stop. You look down at your white pants, now covered in their dirty black handprints,

“Disgusting!” you scoff, trying in vain to wipe the grit of their handprints off.

The bus is taking longer than usual, and you feel an uneasiness settle in. The street lamps and the distant sounds from the bar offer some comfort, but you can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right.

That’s when you see Benny leaving the bar, his calm commanding presence exuding an aura of confidence. He focuses on lighting his cigarette as he walks, moving with a fluid grace that makes you stall, looking at him in admiration.

His leather biker jacket accentuates his strong shoulders, and his jeans highlight his confident stride. As he lights the cigarette, smoke billows from his mouth. He walks to his bike a short distance in front of you, seemingly unaware of your presence.

He swings his leg over his bike and kick starts it, taking a pull of his cigarette before looking over his shoulder at you, revealing that he knew you were there the entire time. You smile, but it quickly fades as your eyes are drawn the group of loud bikers leaving the bar. They immediately see you standing alone at the bus stop.

That’s when it hits you, and fear rushes in. The bus isn’t coming anymore; it’s too late.

“Oh no,” you mutter, walking quickly down the pavement. But they bound toward you, surrounding you almost instantly, pressing you around you and jeering as you walk.

“Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” one of them sneers, his breath reeking of alcohol.

“Come on, darling, don’t be shy,” another says, his hand reaching out to touch your hair.

You slap his hand away, your heart racing with fear. “Alright alright !” you respond to knock their lewd advances, but your voice wavers, betraying your terror.

The night air feels suffocating with their laughter echoing in your ears.

Just as your situation seems dire, you catch a glimpse of Benny on his bike, watching the scene unfold, the cigarette hanging from his lips.

His eyes lock onto yours, and he gestures for you to come to him. Summoning all your courage, you push through the men, ignoring their jeers and grabs, and rush towards Benny. You climb onto the back of his motorcycle and hug onto him tightly as if your life depends on it.

Benny flicks his cigarette away, the ember glowing briefly before fading into the night. The bikers begin hollering and shouting.

“Looks like Benny’s got himself a prize!” one yells, his voice ripping above the others.

“Yeah Benny! Take her! Take her!” another yells as they begin to holler and cheer. The rest of the bikers and their ladies spill out of the closing bar and into the street, joining in, their voices rising in the night air with whistling and hollering.

Benny’s demeanor remains calm and composed, but you can feel the tension in his muscles as he revs the engine. The powerful roar of the motorcycle drowns out the bikers’ voices, but you can still hear their laughter and shouts in the background. Benny’s hand reaches back to gently squeeze your arm, reassuring you.

“Hold on tight,” he says, his voice steady and firm.

You cling to him even tighter, pressing your face against his back, the leather of his jacket cool against your cheek.

Benny kicks the bike into gear and peels out onto the street, leaving the jeering crowd behind.

You’ve never been on a bike before and find it exhilarating as the wind rushes past you as the motorcycle accelerates, making the street lights blur into streaks of light.

With each passing second, the distance between you and the bar grows, the noise of the bikers fading into the night. Benny maneuvers the bike with skill and precision, navigating the streets effortlessly. You begin to relax slightly, the fear slowly ebbing away, replaced by a sense of safety and gratitude.

After a few minutes, Benny slows down and turns onto a quieter street. He eventually stops the bike in front of another bar, this one open later into the night. The neon sign casts a warm glow on the pavement, inviting you inside. He turns off the engine and looks back at you, his intense eyes filled with concern.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice softer now.

You nod, “Yes, thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”

Benny helps you off the bike and stands by your side, his presence comforting.

“Do you want a drink?” he asks, his voice calm and reassuring.

You nod again, feeling a wave of relief. “Yes, that would be nice.”

He leads you into the bar, the dim lighting and the low hum of conversation providing a stark contrast to the dark, tense night you’ve just escaped.

The air is filled with the scent of beer and the soft strains of blues music playing on the jukebox. You follow Benny to a booth in a quieter corner, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude for your unexpected savior.

As you sit down, Benny signals the bartender for a couple of drinks. He sits across from you, his gaze steady and reassuring. “You’re safe here,” he says, his voice calm. “Just take a moment to breathe.”

You nod, taking a deep breath and trying to steady your nerves. The warmth and relative quiet of the bar help you start to relax, the events of the night slowly fading into the background as you focus on the present, feeling grateful for Benny’s timely intervention.

The bartender brings over two cold beers, placing them on the table. Benny takes a sip, then looks at you with a smoldering gaze.

“Those guys back there, they’re my crew,” he says casually. “and you’re the most beautiful woman they’ve ever laid eyes on.” He admits.

You blush, feeling both flattered and a bit wary. “Well, they have an interesting way of showing it,” you reply, your voice tinged with sarcasm.

Benny chuckles softly. “Yeah, they’re rough around the edges, but they know not to mess with someone I’m looking out for.”

You take a sip of your beer, feeling the cold liquid soothe your nerves. “Thanks for that. I was really scared back there.”

Benny’s expression softens. “You don’t have to thank me.“

You both sit in silence for moment until you come up with a question you’ve been curious about.

“What’s it like being a biker?” You ask.

Benny leans back, considering your question. “It’s freedom,” he says, his voice thoughtful. “No schedules, no bosses. Just the open road and my bike. I go where I want, when I want. There’s nothing like it.”

“Where do you live?” you ask.

Benny smiles, a hint of mystery in his eyes. “Wherever the road takes me,” he replies. “I’ve got places I crash, friends’ houses, motels, sometimes just under the stars. Home is the ride.”

“What about you?” he asks, looking you over with curiosity in his eyes.

“I’m from Forest Glen,” you admit with a bit of hesitation.

“Fancy,” he says, lifting his eyebrows with a grin.

The heat rises to your face as your cheeks blush, feeling self conscious from his correct assumption.

“Well, your life sounds very entertaining, Benny,” you admit, taking in his rugged charm, admiring his sense of freedom and independence.

Benny’s eyes soften as he looks at you. “It can be. But it’s not for everyone. It’s rough and unpredictable. You have to be ready for anything.”

You nod, taking another sip of your beer. The differences between your structured life and his free spirited existence fascinates to you, drawing you even deeper into irresistible allure.

You share two more beers together, talking about your vastly contrasting interests. You, fascinated by his wild, unpredictable life, while he listens intently as you describe the comforts of home, your love for quiet evenings with a good book and the security of a routine. Hours go by, the conversation flowing easily between you two, until you glance at the clock above the bar seeing its 4am.

“Oh wow, Benny, we’ve been out all night. I didn’t even notice the time until now.”

He glances at you with a hint of reluctance, “You gotta go?” he asks not wanting the night to end.

You nod reluctantly. “Yeah, it’s really late Benny.”

“Let’s get you home, then,” he says, standing up and signaling the bartender. He pays for the drinks, and you follow him out of the bar, feeling a mix of contentment and excitement.

Outside, the night air is cool and refreshing, as Benny leads you to his bike. He stands next to it for a moment, adjusting his gloves and giving the machine a once over. With a swift, practiced motion, he swings his leg over the seat and settles in.

He grips the kick starter firmly, and gives it a powerful thrust. The engine roars to life, the sound reverberating through the quiet night. Satisfied, he looks over to you and extends his hand, helping you climb onto the back. “Hold on to me,” he says gently.

This time, as you wrap your arms around him you let your hands wander down, marveling at the strength and solidity of his body as you hold his waist. As the engine roars to life you imagine that he’s yours and that this connection between you is something real and lasting.

You press close against his back, feeling the warmth and firmness of him. The vibrations from the engine travel through you, heightening your senses. Soon you’re off, the streets blurring past as Benny navigates the quiet roads to your home. The city lights twinkle above, as the wind rushes past you, carrying a newfound sense of excitement for Benny.

The ride is exhilarating, the powerful machine beneath you and the feeling of Benny’s solid form in front of you providing comfort. The journey is smooth, and you feel safe, trusting Benny completely as he takes you home.

Eventually, he slows down, pulling up in front of your house. He cuts the engine, and the sudden silence is almost startling. You reluctantly let go, dismounting from the bike.

“Thank you, Benny. For everything,” you say, looking to him.

He smiles, his eyes warm and genuine.

You linger for a moment, neither of you wanting the night to end. Finally, you turn to head inside, but before you go, you look back at him one last time.

“Maybe we can do this again sometime?” you suggest, feeling a bit bold.

“I’d like that,” he replies, his smile widening.

With that, you head inside, a sense of warmth and excitement building within you. Once in doors you watch from the window as Benny starts his bike and rides off into the night, the sound of the engine fading into the distance. As you lock the front door you realize that tonight was the beginning of something new and unexpected in your life.

Do You Want Me?

Just as you hang your purse on the entry rack you hear the familiar sound of Bennys bike retuning. The loud rumbling suddenly cutting off.

You pull back the curtain of the front door window and notice he’s parked himself across the street. Confused you watch him pull off his riding gloves and dismount from his bike, taking a carton of cigarettes out with his lighter sparking one up, sitting calmly against his bike to smoke it.

You assume he’s waiting for someone and head upstairs. Once in your bedroom you click on the lamp and begin to unwind from the night. You take off your platform sandals one at a time, placing them in the shoe rack, feeling relief as your feet touch the cool floor.

You remove your crop top, letting it fall to the floor, then shimmy out of your white jeans, revealing your panties and bra. With a quick motion, you slip off your bra and step out of your panties, placing all the items in the hamper.

You turn on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up, then step inside. The hot water cascades over your body, washing away the stress and grime of the evening. You let the water soothe your muscles, closing your eyes and taking a few deep breaths.

After a moment, you step out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a soft towel. You brush your teeth, the minty freshness a stark contrast to the taste of beer lingering from the bar.

Feeling refreshed, you slip into a comfortable nightgown and lie down in your soft bed. You can’t help but replay the night’s events in your mind, especially the moments with Benny. His charm and protective nature leaving a lasting impression on you.

Suddenly you sit up, curiosity getting the better of you and walk over to your bedroom window pulling the curtain aside, half-expecting to see an empty street. To your surprise, Benny is still there, leaning casually against his bike, his gaze fixed on your house.

“He’s still here?” you whisper to yourself, a mix of surprise and confusion flooding your thoughts. “What is he waiting for?”

You watch him for a moment, feeling a mix of curiosity and excitement. His presence outside your home feels both unexpected and oddly reassuring. You look at the clock on your dresser seeing it’s 5: 50 am and wonder why he hasn’t left yet and what he could be thinking.

Unable to resist, you throw on a robe and quietly make your way downstairs. The cool night air greets you as you open the front door and step outside. Benny looks up, his eyes locking onto yours, and a small, knowing smile spreads across his lips.

“Benny, what are you still doing here, are you guarding my house all night?” You tease and he chuckles before pulling a drag from his cigarette.

“I guess so,” he says, smiling as he exhales. His smile is so beautiful that it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Do… you have some place your supposed to be?” you ask, curiosity mingling with the undeniable attraction you feel toward him.

“Not till later,” he responds casually, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes you smile.

The first light of dawn begins to creep over the horizon, casting a soft glow over the street.

“The sun’s coming up, Benny,” you observe and he glances over, squinting as he takes in the view of the rising sun.

“How about I make you breakfast?” you suggest with a grin.

Benny looks back at you, his eyes meeting yours as his smile widens. “I’d like that,” he says.

He stands and flicks his cigarette as he approaches your house, and you watch his confident stride as he stretches his arms relieving his sore muscles from sitting on his bike for so long.

He stops just in front of you, his presence commanding yet comforting. He looks you in the eyes, a hint of something playful in his gaze.

“You want to go to a meeting with me today?” he asks.

Surprised, you blink. “A meeting? What kind of meeting?”

“It’s just something with my club,” he says, his tone casual but inviting. “Thought you might like to see what it’s all about.”

You feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of experiencing his biker lifestyle firsthand. Your earlier interest in him only intensifies. “I’d like that, Benny,” you say with a grin,

“Good,” he says, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

You invite Benny inside just as the sun starts filling your kitchen with early morning light. Benny looks around your place, impressed, his fingers trailing along the countertop in the kitchen, taking in the affluent atmosphere.

“You’ve got a great setup here,” he remarks, his eyes wandering over the well kept place.

“Thanks,” you say, grinning as you gather the items to make him breakfast. “It’s been a lot of work to keep it this way, but it’s worth it,” you admit.

“Well, you’re doing a great job,” he murmurs, his eyes wandering over the curves of your body, knowing you’re too focused on your tasks to notice his provocative gaze.

You smile from his remark as you start your routine, putting on a kettle of water for tea and beginning to make scrambled eggs.

You crack two more for Benny and retrieve the bacon from the fridge setting it in the second skillet, the sizzle filling the kitchen with a the delicious aroma. Grabbing a loaf of bread, you pop a few slices into the toaster to make him a full meal.

As you move around the kitchen, Benny rests back against a counter, admiring you work. His presence is both comforting and intriguing. You can feel his eyes following your every movement, adding a layer of warmth to the room.

The eggs fluff up nicely in the pan, as the smell of bacon wafts through the air

You look back at him and see he has a grin on his face clearly enjoying being made a hot meal.

“Go in the dining room Benny and I’ll bring your plate when it’s ready,” you say sweetly and he shyly smiles happy to do as he’s told.

The kettle whistles, and you pour the hot water into a set of cups, letting the tea bags steep. The toast pops up, and you butter the slices, placing them on a plate alongside the bacon and eggs. You bring everything to the table, and set his plate down in in front of him arranging everything with care.

He looks up at you with admiration in his eyes, and you respond with a warm smile. His gaze then shifts to the food you’ve prepared, his expression softens with deep gratitude as he takes in the sight of the meal you made for him.

You step away momentarily to bring the tea cups, carefully placing one beside him and then setting yours down next to your plate.

He waits for you to sit across from him and, only after you take your first bite of food, does he begin eating. His fork scrapes the plate several times as he hungrily eats.

“This is one of the best meals I’ve had in a long time,” he compliments, and you smile, watching him continue to enjoy each bite.

You begin to study him closely noticing he must be starving and tired. His scent is heavily tinged with cigarettes, his hands are calloused, his fingernails are covered in grit and his sandy brown hair is heavy with oil.

Noticing his rugged appearance, you suddenly realize that Benny doesn’t have a place to call home, a place to be cared for and comforted and your heartstrings tug for him.

“Benny “ you ask softly watching him eat his last bites of foods. “Would you like to shower here? Maybe have a rest on the sofa before we go to this meeting of yours ?” you offer gently.

Benny looks up from his empty plate, a mix of gratitude and surprise in his eyes. “That would be great actually,” he admits, his voice softening.

You smile warmly, feeling a sense of satisfaction being able to care for him.

You clear the table and he takes his jacket off draping it over his chair, revealing the definition of his strong, muscular arms in his sleeveless shirt.

Seeing him getting comfortable sets you at ease, and you smile as you make your way over to him. “Will you follow me upstairs so I can show you to the shower, Benny?” you ask, and he slowly grins, his face lighting up in the way that sends a warmth through you.

“Yea I’ll follow you” he says his voice carrying a mix of gratitude and anticipation.

He follows you up the stairs, his heavy footsteps behind yours, and you lead him down the hallway, your own footsteps echoing softly in the quiet house.

Stopping at the linen closet, you pull out a fresh set of towels and hand them to him. He takes a moment, bringing the soft fabric to his face and inhaling the scent, appreciating the clean, comforting smell of fresh laundry.

You pull a toothbrush and a bar of soap from the closet, placing them on top of the towels as he lowers them slightly.

“The bathroom is just on the left,” you say, pointing the way. “I’ll be in my room tidying up and getting ready. If you need anything, just knock.”

“Thank you,” he says, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that makes your heart flutter. “I really appreciate this.”

You smile, touched by his appreciation. “It’s no problem at all, you’re my guest.”

He glances down, then back up at you, his eyes softening. “You really didn’t have to any of this.”

“I wanted to Benny” you reply softly.

You give him a reassuring smile, and he returns it with a grateful look before heading to the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

You head to your bedroom and close the door. Hearing the shower start you feel a sense of contentment wash over you, knowing you’re able to care for him.

You tidy up your room and begin to get dressed, choosing a loose fitting shirt and denim jeans, assuming you’re going to be with the same rowdy group of bikers he was with yesterday. Before you put your socks and shoes on there is a knock at your door.

You open it to find Benny standing in the hallway, half naked, wearing only the towel. His well defined physique catches you off guard, and your breath hitches at the sight of his muscular body.

His defined abs glisten, and his broad chest rises and falls with each breath, his hand gripping the towel beneath the deep v-line of his waist. He looks refreshed and more relaxed. His hair, now clean and slightly damp, falls in soft waves around his face that radiates with a newfound vitality. You momentarily lose your voice, captivated by how attractive he looks.

“What would you like me to do with my clothing?” he asks gently, helping you refocus.

“Y-you can bring them to me, Benny,” you say,still in shock at the perfection of his body. He collects his clothing and brings the pile to you. Quickly grabbing a hamper, you place his clothing inside.

“Let’s go down and get these washed for you,” you announce, trying to focus on the task at hand.

“Thank you,” he says smiling again, and as you walk downstairs, he follows you. Still in the towel, holding it at his waist. As you reach the base of the stairs, you can’t help but look back and notice how the towel clings to his muscular form, each step emphasizing every contour of his physique.

You sigh dreamily and gesture him toward the living room. “Why don’t you relax on the sofa while I head to the laundry room,” you offer.

Benny nods, and you watch as he enters the living room looking the place over. He sits down on the sofa, adjusting his towel before resting back, his muscular arms outstretched against the plush cushions, enjoying the comfort.

“Do you need anything?” you ask kindly, wanting to ensure he’s comfortable.

“No, this is perfect,” he says, giving you a grateful smile.

You nod and head to the laundry room, feeling a sense of satisfaction being able to help him. As you start the washer, you can’t help but think about how different your lives are and yet how connected you feel to him in this moment.

As you pour the detegent in, the morning sun filters through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room and it dawns on you, you’re falling deeply for Benny.

When you head back to the living room, you find him studying a framed picture of your family on the mantle. “These your folks?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer slowly.

“Where do they live?” he asks.

“They passed away Benny,” you say, your voice somber. His face falls in shock, realizing his mistake.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he stammers.

“It’s alright. It’s been some time, but I do miss them terribly,” you admit, your voice softer.

His eyes gloss over with sadness for you. “I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories,” he says gently.

“Benny it’s fine, I’ll be alright .” you say with a reassuring smile.

He looks around at the living room, taking in his surroundings.

“You live by yourself in this big house?” he asks, his eyes scanning the place, noting the quietness.

You nod. “Yes, it’s just me now. It’s a lot of space for one person, but it’s home,” you say, offering a small smile.

He takes a deep breath, his gaze returning to yours, filled with a mix of admiration and concern. “It must get lonely sometimes,” he says softly.

“It does,” you admit, and then you fall silent, lost in thought realizing that you’ve willingly let Benny—a man you just met tonight— into your home and now he’s standing in your living room, nearly naked, wrapped in a towel.

The reality of the situation hits you hard and you are surprised by your own actions, you would never willingly allow a handsome stranger into your home, let alone someone you barely know, but with Benny somehow its different.

His presence reassures you. The way he looks at you with genuine care and concern, the kindness in his eyes, his gentle yet commanding demeanor, all make you feel safe with him in a way you have never felt before.

He captivates you with his powerful presence, a mix of beauty and raw strength exuding a sense of protection and confidence that is impossible to ignore. As you watch him, standing nearly naked in your living room, you can’t help but feel a surge of admiration and desire.

You look at his perfect body again, your gaze lingering on his broad, chiseled chest, his heavily defined muscular arms, and finally settling on his ridged abs, each one perfectly sculpted, narrowing down to his sculpted waist. His entire body exudes strength. The sight of him standing in your living room takes your breath away.

The truth of your motives comes to the surface as your eyes linger on him longer than you intended and you feel a surge warmth spread through you, a magnetic pull that makes it hard to look away anymore . Feeling a mixture of desire and curiosity that you’ve never felt before you begin to realize you invited him in to do more than just to care for him.

Benny catches your lingering stare, his eyes meeting yours with a knowing look. A small smile plays at the corners of his lips, and you can see the spark of desire in his eyes as he takes a step closing the distance between you.

“What do we do while we wait for the laundry?” he asks, his voice low and sultry. Your heart flutters, finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than the desire building between the two of you.

“I-I hadn’t thought about that,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly.

As he steps closer you instinctively move back, bumping into the bookshelf behind you. The sudden movement causes a book to tumble off the shelf and hit the floor with a soft thud.

He kneels down to pick it up, and you catch a glimpse of his cock, sending a thrill straight through you. It is long and thick, the biggest you’ve ever seen, stretching impressively down his thigh. Utterly impressed you quickly cover your mouth.

He doesn’t take notice and reads the title of the book he’s picked up.

“Business Franchising,” he says, grinning as he stands. “Is this yours ?” He asks and you slowly nod, slightly trembling unable to form words from what you just witnessed.

“You’re smart .” He confirms looking into your eyes with a satisfied grin.

His muscular arm extends to push the fallen book back into the slot next to your head and his closeness is intoxicating. He sees your hesitation, your head lowered as you avoid looking at him in such close proximity.

He doesn’t back down, instead, he gently tilts your chin up with his fingers, guiding your eyes to meet his. His gaze is intense and unwavering, filled with an unspoken understanding and desire. As you stare into his eyes, he searches deeply into yours, making it impossible to look away.

“I never thanked you properly,” he says softly, his eyes darkening with a mix of gratitude and longing.

The heat radiating from his body and the scent of him, fresh from the shower, fills your senses. He’s intoxicating to you, and the longer you stare into his beautiful, mesmerizing blue eyes, the more your heart races in anticipation.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promises, his voice deep and filled with emotion. The intensity of his gaze is magnetic, drawing you in completely and his breath mingles with yours, warm and inviting as his lips move closer.

The world around you falls away as his full lips slowly brush against yours and you feel the spark ignite between you, a deep and passionate connection that sends waves of heat through your body. He kisses you slowly and deliberately savoring every moment of his lips on yours with an unspoken desire.

His hand gently cups your jaw and his fingers trace the contours of your face as you feel the warmth of his palm against your skin.

His other large hand grasps your waist pulling you flush against him making you feel as if your heart will explode from the overwhelming mix of emotions.

Bennys lips move against yours slowly devouring you as you lose yourself in the sensation, feeling an incredible sense of connection to him. His kiss is filled with a longing and desire that promises so much more.

Feeling a firmness press against your thigh, you break the kiss, peering down to see his substantial erection hard against you. Looking back into his eyes you see his intent.

“Benny,” you shakily whisper, your voice trembling with the intensity of the moment. “We should take it slow,” you manage to say, but as the words leave your mouth, he stares at your lips with a fierce longing before looking back into your eyes. His breaths are heavy and uneven, his desire for you is intense, as if he’s fighting to hold himself back but wanting to give you more.

You slowly place your hand on his chest, trying to calm him, but his eyes search yours, filled with lust his need is evident and the intensity of the moment is fierce as you fight your reservations.

Quickly, you turn from his grasp and walk to the kitchen, creating a distance between you to force the thought of stripping the towel off of him from your mind. You want to date Benny properly, not get swept away in a moment of passion.

“I want you,” Benny admits following you closely.

“You make me feel differently than anyone ever has,” he reveals, not even giving you a moment to cool down.

“When I’m with you, it’s like everything else fades away and I’ve never felt this way before.” He confesses.

Your mind is overwhelmed with desire for him as you listen to his words, your eyes looking around the kitchen, frantically searching for anything you can do to preoccupy yourself.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says closer, his voice filled with emotion. “I’ve never wanted anyone so much.”

You reach the sink and grip the edge, feeling Benny’s presence behind you, and he presses himself against you, his strong arms encircling you, trapping you between him and the counter. The firmness of his hard body pushing against yours makes a gasp of pleasure escape your lips, and he gently turns you around to face him, his eyes searching yours.

His eyes fall to your lips, then lift back to meet your gaze. “I need you,” he confesses, his voice soft and genuine, filled with a depth of longing and desire that takes your breath away.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you process his words. The desperation in his eyes, the way he stands so close, everything about him in this moment is charged with a raw sexual energy and without a second thought, you reach up and kiss him, your lips meeting his in a rush of heat and need.

His body responds immediately, his large hands gripping around your waist, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. His lips meld with yours full of passion as all the pent up tension between you two finally falls away.

“I’ve wanted this,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice a mix of gratitude and desire. “Since I first… laid eyes on you.” He admits between kisses.

You nod, breathless, your hands exploring his muscular chest.

“..Yes….Benny ” you pant, feeling his strong arms envelop you knowing that this moment, this connection, is something you both desperately need.

He kisses you deeply, tilting his head and roughly capturing your mouth, his strong hands wandering down your back making you feel cherished in his arms.

Each caress and press of his lips deepens your connection flooding you with emotions you’ve never felt before.

His towel falls away, and you feel his hard length press against you making you softly moan.

He pulls his lips from yours and kisses down your neck, holding you firmly yet tenderly as you tilt your head back, giving him better access to your throat.

“How do you want me?” he whispers against your skin, his voice thick with desire as he continues his trail of soft kisses. Your heart pounds with longing and nervous anticipation.

“..Benny,” you say, breathing heavily, feeling the hardness of his full erection pressing against you.

“W-we should wait,” you gasp.

He leans back to look at you, his eyes filled with a serious depth of devotion. “I want you,” he says with unwavering conviction, “and I want to be yours.”

The sincerity in his eyes melts away your reservations. “I want you too, Benny,” you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation.

His hands travel up tenderly pushing under your top and pulling it over your head before he discards it to the floor.

“You’re beautiful,” he smiles, his eyes lingering on the sight of you undressed for the first time. His large hands cup your full breasts with reverence, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

“I can’t believe I get to touch you like this,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe.

His lips brush over your sensitive skin, kissing your soft nipples making you ache with desire. His tongue slips out, gently flicking and swirling around the buds until they are hard and sensitive.

Then, his mouth descends, lavishing attention on them and you gasp as he alternates between each breast, sucking and kissing gently, his hand continuing to caress and knead the other. His rough touch contrasting perfectly with the softness of his mouth.

When he pulls back, his eyes lock onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. His hands holding your waist as he slowly lowers down on his knees in front of you, making your breath hitch.

His hands slide up your thighs unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them all the way down, the cool air contrasting sharply with the heat of your skin

His lips trail soft tantalizing kisses up your thigh.

“I want to taste you,” he murmurs against your skin stopping shy of your panties. He slowly pushes his hand between your legs feeling you already soaked through for him and hums in satisfaction.

“Benny.. I haven’t done anything like this before …” you pant growing more overwhelmed by the second knowing he’s going to perform oral on you.

“I’ll go slow“ he promises and delicately slides your panties off, trailing kisses down your navel to your wet heat.

“I want to please every part of you,” he vows, his voice deep and filled with satisfaction as his hands grip your hips, holding you steady. “I want to make you feel things you’ve never felt before,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin as his mouth descends.

The first touch of his wet tongue against your clit sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body as you gasp.

“Oh god, Benny!” you cry out, the softness of his mouth latching sending jolts of pleasure directly to your core. His warm slick tongue begins to lick expertly, exploring every inch of your folds as his facial hair grazes against your thighs making you clench. You look down at him, your breaths hitching as you watch him devour you with an intensity that leaves you trembling.

“F-feels so good Benny” you whisper, your voice shaking with pleasure.

His tongue explores deeper into your folds, and you moan desperately, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. The new experience is overwhelming, the sensation heightening to a level you’ve never known.

His tongue flicks circles of precision on every stroke sending waves of pleasure through your body unraveling you under his skilled touch.

He laps at your clit, alternating between gentle licks and firm flicks, driving you insane with lust. His eyes, dark with hunger, suddenly lock onto yours, and the sight of him dedicated to giving you such pleasure makes you tremble, becoming completely undone.

His hands grip your hips tighter, anchoring you in place as his tongue delves deeper, tasting you, exploring your inner walls. You can feel the vibrations of his satisfied hums against your most intimate parts as his facial hair brushes roughly against you. The intensity of the moment takes your breath away, and you begin moaning uncontrollably, surrendering completely to the ecstasy he’s giving you.

He brings his hand from your hip, slipping one long, thick finger inside of you. Feeling the roughness of his fingertip against your soft sensitive inner walls makes you clench as an intense moan to escape your lips.

Chills cover the expanse of your body as his tongue and lips, swirl and flick against your clit with precise timing as his finger slips in and out of your sensitive inner walls.

“Benny…please…Benny“ you moan incoherently losing control of your mind, the arousal completely taking over as you lose yourself to him.

He adds a second finger inside of you and the stretch is deliciously overwhelming, your walls contract around his fingers as they move in and out with a steady rhythm. He curls his fingers inside you, hitting a perfect spot that makes you gasp and arch your back.

“Benny oh god! ” you cry out your hands trembling as you grip his hair painfully. He moans loudly against your folds and you savor the vibration of his voice sending a jolt straight through your core.

You begin to high-pitch moan, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as your orgasm builds.

His tongue licks broad strokes and quick flicks against your clit while he fingers you making you see stars.

“Benny your… gonna…make me come like this” you relent your thighs trembling as you try to endure every powerful sensation.

Your walls rhythmically contract around his thrusting fingers and the pleasure becomes too much to bear. You let out a desperate cry, your hips bucking softly against his mouth as your orgasm crashes over you. You moan, your voice trembling in ecstasy,

“Benny you made me come!” you cry out as waves of pleasure ripple through your body, leaving you light-headed and breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.

He continues to gently lick your clit, deliberately slowing the movements of his fingers inside of you, drawing out every last bit of your pleasure until finally, you collapse back, catching your breath as your body tingles with the aftershocks of your intense release.

You pant, staring down at him in awe as he slides his fingers from you and into his mouth, tasting your wetness. He smiles and the sight of him savoring you sends a shiver through your body.

“Benny you’re incredible,” you say in astonishment.

He rises and stands to look at you, his eyes dark with desire. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you,” he confesses his voice thick with emotion as his hand trails along your waist. “I will do everything to satisfy you” he murmurs, his gaze locked onto yours with an intense longing to please.

You feel warmth spread across your body at his words. “Take me the bedroom,” you say breathless, eager to see more of what he can do. You want him to take all the time in the world on you, feeling every part of you. His intense gaze remains locked on yours as he smiles at your request taking your hand and guiding you to the staircase.

As you walk up the stairs, you continue to steal glances at him. His strong, chiseled physique is mesmerizing, every muscle perfectly sculpted and radiating raw strength. The sight of his impressive erect cock heightens your anticipation even more.

His hand remains intertwined with yours, the roughness of his calloused fingers a stark contrast to the tender way he holds you.

Entering your bedroom, the morning light filters softly through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. Benny closes the door behind you, and you can feel the charged atmosphere enveloping you both. He turns to you, his eyes filled with an intensity that makes your heart race.

He leans in, capturing your lips with his, as his hands begin to explore your body. You feel his warmth, the firmness of his muscles pressing against you, as he gently guides you toward the bed. He lays you down carefully, his touch both tender and possessive.

Benny’s lips trail down your neck, planting soft kisses along your collarbone and further down to your chest. His hands caress your sides, memorizing every curve your body. The feeling of his touch, combined with the lingering sensations from your previous climax, sends shivers of pleasure coursing through you.

He takes his time, his lips and hands worshiping your body as if it were sacred. You feel his breath against your skin, the warmth of his kisses, and the gentle firm pressure of his hands. Your mind is clouded with desire, every touch and caress heightening your need for him.

Benny grabs your hips, pulling you to him with a roughness that sends a thrill through you.

As he finally positions himself over you, his eyes meet yours, and you see a mixture of lust and something deeper, a connection that transcends words.

He looks over your body, his gaze lingering on your curves, taking in every detail with a mix of admiration and desire until there is a moment of pause, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

“My condoms are in my bike,” he realizes, his voice thick with need and before he can move to retrieve them you gently touch his wrist.

“I’m on Enovid,” you smile softly.

He blinks, confusion flickering across his face. “What’s envoid?”

“It’s a pill, I can’t get pregnant,” you explain

“Not ever?” he says and you smile gently as you see the initial panic in his eyes. You reach up, touching his face tenderly.

“If I stop taking it, I can easily become pregnant Benny.”

His eyes widen in realization. “I can… come in you?”

“Yes, Benny,” you affirm, your voice low and sultry, your eyes showing a dark seduction that makes his breath catch.

He stares at you in astonishment.

“This will be my first time… without a condom,” he confesses, a slight vulnerability in his eyes that makes your heart swell.

You smile reassuringly, caressing his cheek. “It’s okay, Benny. I trust you.”

His expression softens, and he leans down to kiss you deeply, his lips pressing against yours with a newfound intensity.

He positions himself at your entrance and the anticipation is almost unbearable. You can feel the heat of his body, the weight of him above you, and the hardness of his cock poised to enter you.

Slowly, he pushes in and you moan feeling every inch of him, the feel of his cock is intense as he deeply stretches you full of him.

He feels your tight walls taking him in, the sensation is a blend of pleasure and intimacy, he’s never experienced before making his breath hitch.

“You feel…. -So …good,” he groans, his voice filled with pleasure and awe as his eyes close immediately. His brows furrow in concentration as he savors the feeling of your slick, tight walls surrounding him. Every inch of him feels alive, every nerve ending tingling with the raw, powerful sensation of being inside you.

The warmth of his body against yours, the rhythm of his breathing, and the way he opens his eyes looking Into yours all combine to create a profoundly intimate moment.

He begins moving with slow measured thrusts, savoring the feeling of being inside you without any barriers

“Benny you’re …so deep” you gasp your voice trembling with pleasure feeling every inch of his hard cock thrust into you completely.

Benny’s eyes lock onto yours, his expression filled with raw desire and tenderness.

“I want you to feel all of me,” he breathes, his voice thick with emotion.

You moan from his words, the connection between you deepening with each thrust as he picks up the pace, his cock sliding in powerfully driving into you with a rhythm that leaves you breathless. His eyes never leave yours and you can see the raw emotion in his gaze.

“Am I making you feel good?” he rasps, his voice filled with a mix of desire and tenderness.

“Yes Benny, yes,” you moan, your voice trembling with pleasure.

His eyes darken with passion as he breathes, his movements becoming more intense.

“I’ve never felt anything like this,” he confesses. “I can’t get enough” he rasps. The warmth of your slick, walls grip his cock tightly, the skin to skin sensation, sending intense waves of pleasure through his entire being.

“Am I yours?” he questions, thrusting harder,“Do you want me?” he asks, his eyes desperately searching yours as you get lost in the overwhelming sensation of his large cock driving deep into your tight walls.

“Yes, Benny yes!,” you cry out, your body arching against his. “I’m yours, I want you!” you moan, clenching around him, the pleasure intensifying with every thrust of his large cock.

“I’m yours then,” he pants as he continues to thrust into you, his pace quickening the sensation of his size is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

Without a condom, your wet walls glide against him and he can feel every pulse, every contraction, the raw intimacy of it almost too much to bear.

The connection feels so intense and primal he drives faster, thrusting harder, and pushing deeper, each motion fueled by the exquisite pleasure coursing through him.

His hips begin softly clapping against yours as he grunts thrusting into you at a forceful pace driving you both toward a powerful climax.

“I can’t hold back,” he groans, his voice raw with need. “You feel too good, I’m losing control,” he admits .

“Benny, come in me” you desperately moan, your body arching against his.

He responds with a deep, primal groan, his thrusts becoming urgent and powerful, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge.

“…-I want to feel you come around me first ” he breathes and brings his large hands to your waist pulling you forcefully to meet against his thrusting cock. You cling to him, your nails digging into his back leaving marks as you ride the waves of ecstasy, your bodies moving in perfect harmony.

“Yes Benny, yes… oh my god, yes!,” you cry out, your voice filled with raw pleasure as he roughly thrusts into you satisfying the tightness of your core. You begin gasping, your walls contracting around him as you orgasm.

His eyes squeeze shut from the sensation of your fluttering walls and he surrenders to the overwhelming pleasure.

His cock pulses hard inside of you, his hips stuttering as he loses control. Finally both reaching the peak your loud cries mingle together as you come simultaneously, the climax sweeping through you like a tidal wave.

He releases his cum deep inside of you, his desperate cries rattling your brain as you rhythmically contract around him, absorbing each other’s pleasure. The orgasm is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, a wave of pure ecstasy that leaves you breathless.

He slowly collapses onto you, his breathing ragged, his heart pounding against your chest. He holds you tightly in his arms, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion, knowing that this moment has forged an unbreakable bond between you.

As the waves of pleasure subside, his hand gently caresses your shoulder as you both catch your breath. His face resting in the nook of your neck as his body grows heavy.

“I don’t want this to end,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and reluctance. “I’ve never felt anything like this and I want to stay like this forever.”

You stroke his hair gently smiling, feeling the warmth of his breath against your neck. “I don’t want it to end either, Benny,” you whisper back, your voice tender and filled with emotion.

He smiles at your words and reluctantly sits up sliding his large cock back until the heavy tip slips out of your entrance leaving you momentarily empty. He rests his head against your chest, his breathing gradually slowing as he tries to hold onto the connection you’ve just shared.

You continue to stroke his hair affectionately, your fingers weaving through the soft strands, watching his eyes grow heavy as he tries to fight the comforts of sleep.

“It’s alright, Benny,” you soothe him softly. “Just rest now.”

His eyes slowly flutter closed, and you feel his body relax completely against yours as he drifts into a deep sleep. You watch him for a moment, as you hold him in your arms. His face soft and serene, the warmth of his body, the rise and fall of his chest, and the scent of his him all combine to create a profound sense of connection with him.

Continuing to stroke his hair you feel a deep attachment to Benny, realizing he has become so much than you ever expected. The rhythm of his steady breathing lulls you, and your eyes grow heavy, surrendering to the pull of rest. The last thing you feel is the comforting presence of Benny in your arms, as you drift into a deep and satisfying sleep.

🏍️ To be Continued 🏍️

🔗 Benny Cross Part 2: The Vandals 🏍️

Benny brings you to a Vandals biker meeting and introduces you to his club members and their old ladies. Everyone is surprised by your contrasting natures and pokes fun at Benny for dating a ‘fancy girl’.

They privately cast bets on how quickly you’ll use him for a thrill and ditch him once the fun’s over. Little do they know you both are in it for keeps.

You find out more about his rough biker lifestyle and his club leader, Johnny, who has Benny at his beck and call.

🏍️ Benny Cross Tag List 🏍️ @finley-08 @ashleybutler-26 @ifuckindontknow @landlockedmermaid77 @jvanilly @oceanablue @12joeywheelerfangirl @autumnleaves1991-blog @presley1992 @rose-deathman 🏷️ Always Tags Me List 💌 @burnthheparaphilia @purejasmine @lindszeppelin @abswifey @faegoddessog @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @magicovento @thegabbyh @fallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @unicoreads @lovereadingfanfic @elvismylove04 @denised916 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @meetmeatyourworst @rougegenshin @avidreader73 @jkdaddy01 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @majestyjade @pearlparty @depressedfairie

[nocturn-warrior]

Let me just remind you guys that...

AI fanfiction is not fanfiction

[shockercoco]

Dangerously Yours

Benny Cross x reader

Warnings - 18+, jealousy smut, fingering, eating out, squirting, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, some swear words

Word count - 2550

a/n - here’s the winner of the poll and part 2 of The Lucky One, but it can be read by itself. I’m so glad you guys enjoyed it enough to want a part 2! tysm and I hope you enjoy :) (I will fix any errors later💀)

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Benny mumbles as you dodge his kiss. “What now?”

Not even five minutes ago, this man was basically teasing you about your jealousy, and now he has the audacity to be confused. You didn’t want to admit the fact that you were jealous of his ex, but it’s Benny – when he wants an answer he’ll make sure he gets it.

You’re not really angry, just slightly embarrassed, so you feel like being petty because why not?

“Nothing, I told you I was tired,” you tell him as you move away from the counter and out of his grasp.

Benny blinks a few times, confused, because he thought he had just resolved the problem that had caused your bitchy attitude.

The tea you had made before Benny interrupted you in the kitchen is now cold, so you pour the tea out and place the cup into the sink before leaving the kitchen. You make a quick stop at the front door to make sure it’s locked before making your way upstairs with Benny hot on your tail.

“I know when you’re tired and this,” he gestures to you, “is not it.”

“Well, it looks like you don’t know me that well then because I am tired,” you shoot him a glare, turning the bedroom light off as soon as you enter the room. Benny comes in behind you and immediately turns the light back on.

You make a move to walk over to your side of the bed, but Benny stops you. He grabs your arm to pull you towards him before pushing you back onto the bed. You roll your eyes making sure to keep your annoyed expression – you’re going to keep up this facade for as long as you can. 

You use your hands to crawl backwards towards the headboard, but again, Benny interrupts your plans. He grabs you at your ankles and pulls you back towards him at the bottom of the bed. When you try to move again, his grip tightens on your ankles.

“Let me go,” you say.

“I know what you’re doing,” he tells you, voice low. He places a knee in between your legs, moving a hand up your body as he moves to hover over you before placing his hands on either side of your head.

Stay strong.

“Really? Enlighten me, then,” you raise your eyebrows as you look up at him, folding your arms across your chest.

“I don’t have to tell you what you already know, sweetheart. You’re not dumb," Benny smirks down at you.

“You know, I’m in the perfect position to knee you right between your legs, right?” you question.

Benny ignores your remark as he moves to travel south. “Since you wanna play games, I don’t mind playing along, but I’m gonna have to add a couple of rules.”

“What are you doing?” you ask as you follow him with your eyes as he places his face in front of your covered pussy. You feel yourself throb as he teasing rubs a hand on your thigh.

Benny playfully tilts his head. “What? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

As Benny moves back to pull your pajama shorts and underwear down your legs, you try to keep your breathing steady.

“No,” you say firmly, but it was a lie. Even though you weren’t exactly planning to end up in this position, you knew this is how Benny liked to deal with you when you had an attitude. 

You watch as Benny moves back to pull you pajama shorts and underwear slowly down your legs. There was a small patch of arousal starting to form in your panties, which caused it to stick to your cunt as Benny pulled them away from you. The corners of his mouth twitched as he notices how wet you are already.

“You sure about that?” he asks as he looks up at you. You breathe in sharply as you feel Benny rub a thumb up and down your already sticky folds. “Because what I’m seeing right now is telling me something completely different.”

Stay strong.

You have to clench your jaw and close your eyes when Benny presses down onto your clit, his eyes watching your every move. You open your mouth to say something but immediately close it when Benny presses again, this time drawing tight circles.

“Nothing to say? You had so much to say just a second ago, what happened?”

You open your mouth to try to speak again, but you again get interrupted when Benny presses down on your clit again, stopping you from speaking on purpose.

What a prick. 

“You don’t have to answer that, baby, I already know,” he smiles. “But what you do have to do is stay quiet for me because, like you said, this isn’t what you wanted, so you obviously won’t be enjoying this.”

Benny suddenly moves his hand down and pushes a finger into you, your slick cunt making it easy to glide in. Your clit is only abandoned for a second before he uses his other hand to give it attention. 

His pace is slow and tantalizing as he thrusts his finger in and out of you. You have to bite your lip when Benny adds a second finger inside of you, curling his fingers into your walls, but when his fingers find that special spot, an involuntary moan leaves your lips.

Benny’s fingers immediately stop as his eyes leave your cunt to look up at you. “I said be quiet, remember?”

He waits for you to nod before continuing, but this time he adds his mouth to the mix. You feel his tongue glide across you before using his mouth to add suction to your clit. Your hips jerk at the feeling.  The speed of his fingers gradually increase, making the sounds escaping your soaked cunt to become louder and louder.

Your resolve is quickly diminishing, making it harder to stay quiet as Benny’s lips attack you. You feel the need to grab onto something, so you finally uncross your arms to grab onto the blanket.

Benny stops again. “No, no, no. You wanted to be petty and fold your arms like you’re tryna to prove something, so keep them folded.”

You let out a whimper, but do as he says. He sends you a look, silently telling you to be quiet, before starting up his fingers again and reattaching his lips. Since you can’t grab onto the bed, you dig your nails into folded arms. You want to scream.

As you feel yourself reaching the end of this tortuous climb, it all becomes too much. Your hips buck away from his face and you try to close your legs, causing Benny to use his unoccupied hand to grab onto one of your thighs to keep you spread. His fingers move even faster inside of your tight, wet hole, and you might actually pass out.

When you tumble over the edge and cum, your eyes roll as your hands move to grip the bed again. Fuck Benny. He uses your fingers to work you through your orgasm, constantly rubbing against that spot along your walls. Your walls are closing around Benny’s fingers, but he doesn’t care, enjoying the way your cunt spasms and flutters and the way your wetness covers his hand. Your back arches as you grind yourself against his face, your head falling back against the bed. 

As you begin to come down from your high, you notice Benny not slowing down. 

“Benny!” you squeak out as you try to move your hips away. 

You try to crawl back, but that doesn’t stop Benny, he just follows your hips as you move. Suddenly you feel yourself gush, squirting onto his face and forcing his fingers out of you. The fabric below you quickly becomes soaked with your mess. Benny quickly rubs his fingers across your clit, prolonging your squirting.

“God, please!” you plead as you continue to try to get out of his grasp. “Benny!”

Benny hums into you as he wraps his arms around your shaking thighs to keep you glued to him. Your legs close around his head as the feeling vibrates through your body. 

Benny eventually stops and allows you to push his head away from you. You quickly close your legs as Benny uses his hand to wipe your mess from his face with a laugh. Your chest heaves up and down as you try to catch your breath, your body trembling.

While you try to calm down, Benny stands up to remove his sweatpants and tank top. You catch a glance of a spot of precum on the fabric of his underwear, before he pulls that down to, letting his hard cock free. This is far from over.

You body feels limp, so you put up no resistance when Benny comes back to hover you and pulls your tank top over your head. Then, he moves to position himself between your legs, and begins to rub his cock against your sticky folds. Your body twitches and you let out a small moan at the action.

“What’s wrong, are you too sensitive?” Benny fake pouts above you, and you don’t have the energy to snap back at him. All you can do is moan in response. “That’s too bad because I haven’t had my release yet. You can take another round, though, right baby?”

He smirks as you glare up at him, but the expression is quickly wiped from your face as he pushes his cock into you. You throw your head back into the bed as your mouth opens to make a noise, but all that comes out is a silence.

Benny groans as he sets his pace inside of you – slow and deep. He grabs ahold of your thighs to prevent them from closing and to help him push inside of you. He looks down at the spot where the two of you are connected to take in the sight of your soaked opening sucking him in. A creamy ring can also be seen forming at the base of his cock 

“Fuck,” you whimper.

“I can’t believe you got jealous of Kay, baby. I mean you, of all people, should know where my heart is,” Benny taunts. “You’re my good girl, isn’t that right?”

You grab a hold of a pillow that’s been tossed to the side as you arch your back. Your eyes are closed and your thighs are shaking as Benny continues his deep thrusts inside of you. He knows exactly what you like and what you need, which is why he decided to use a slow pace to torture you.

Then there’s a rough thrust. He gently caresses one of your thighs as a punched out moan leaves you. “I asked you a question, baby.”

“Yes!” you cry out.

“Yes what?” he asks.

“I’m your good girl.”

“Yeah you are. My sweet, sweet girl.”

Oh my god.

Benny grabs a hold of your hands and lowers it to your stomach and presses down. It’s almost enough to make you come on the spot. 

And you do, causing Benny to laugh as he watches your body convulse.

“You’re the one I’m inside of, baby,” he groans, his voice husky, with his hand still on your stomach.

You clench down around him at his words, causing him to groan. He closes his eyes for a second to collect himself, before opening them back up. Benny then leans down to hover over you, wrapping his arms around your body to help him go even deeper. His head moves to drop into your neck, his hot breath fanning against you.

You think your eyes might get stuck in the back of your head.

“Your pussy is the only one I look forward to having around me,” he whispers into your ear. “Do you know that?”

“Yes, Benny!” 

You can hear the remains of your precious orgasm causing a squishing and squelching sound to leave your dripping cunt. You can feel some of your mess leaking down and onto the already damp blanket beneath. You feel Benny’s deep moan fill your ear.

“You sure because it didn’t seem that way earlier,” he tells you. 

Fuck his ex. Well, maybe you should be saying thank you at the moment.

You feel like you’re holding onto for dear life.

“I do, I do, I do,” you answer breathlessly, your eyelids heavy.

He pulls his head away from your neck to place a sloppy, wet kiss against your lips. You’re too far gone to do anything but let out a needy whimper into his mouth.

“I belong only to you, ain’t that right?” he mumbles against your lips. 

All you can say is, “Uh huh,” while giving him a nod.

Benny notices your distant expression and grabs your head into his hands, making you look him in the eyes while he continues to rock into you.

“Look at you, so gorgeous. No one compares to you. Wanna make you mine officially, wanna marry you,” he tells you. You shudder against him. “You like that idea, huh?”

You nod again.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he smirks.

“Yes,” you manage to say.

“I know you do,” he tells you.

Eventually you feel his thrusts get needy and more sloppy, his hold on you becoming tighter.

“Wanna make you mine,” he repeats, his head back in the crook of your neck as he pounds into your overly sensitive cunt. Your body is limp, a constant string of noises leaving your lips, but you can feel drool dribbling out the side of your mouth. “Wanna make you mine.”

Benny snakes his hand between your two bodies, landing on your clit. Your body jerks at the feeling. “Are you gonna give me another one, sweetheart,” he pants as he rubs circles into you.

He fucks you deeper into the mattress, humping you with need.

“No, I can’t!” you pathetically cry out.

“Yes, you can,” he grunts, and when he gets no response, he says, “that’s my girl.”

You feel your third orgasm quickly approaching, “Please, Benny, please,” you moan.

“I got you,” he tells you.

Suddenly your walls are clamping around him, and you're gushing, your squirt coming out with every thrust. Your body arches up into him as Benny chases his own high. You're a trembling wet mess underneath him.

Then you feel Benny throbbing inside of you, your repeated clenching throwing him over the edge. When he pulls out, you shudder, causing Benny to give you a quick sorry.

He collapses with his head on your stomach, and the two of you lay in a comfortable silence. The room is filled with nothing but heavy breaths, until you decide to speak up. There’s a serious question running through your mind.

“Do you actually wanna marry me?” you ask as you look down at him, your hands in his hair.

“Yeah,” Benny nods with a genuine smile, then adds, “I kinda have to after all this, don’t you think?”

You give him a look as you find the energy to hit him with a pillow. He quickly sits up and stops you from hitting his face with a laugh.

“You know i'm just kiddin’,” he smiles.

like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[nerdy-novelist017]

Paige's Masterlist For The Bikeriders

Requests Are Open For Benny x Bunny Or If You Just Wanna Chat, I'd Love To Hear From You :)

Benny x Bunny 🐰

aka: shy!reader who has Benny Cross positively wrapped around your finger from the very first time you stood before him with a bowl of homemade chocolate chip cookies.

* means it has NSFW content!

Part 1 Little Bunny

Part 2 The Ride

Part 3 A Date

Part 4 Rooftop Conversations

Part 5 Ponytails and Promises

Part 6 Apologies

Part 7 Perfect

Part 8 Soaked

One Shots*

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet*

Life Raft*

Broken Glass

Sweet Talking*

Bruised Ego

Love, Lids, & Lessons

Baby Fever

T-Shirts

Denim*

Tease*

(I sadly can’t add anymore of you wonderful readers to my tag list but you can turn on post notifications for updates about Benny and Bunny!)

[droopycoquette]

Ridin' or Nothin' || Benny Cross x Reader

Summary: A little exchange of services

Warnings: hella fluff, angst, suggestive content

Word count: 5.1k

|*|

You had been watching him, that much you could admit. Your eyes always caught him on the road, riding around with the wind in his hair. Sometimes you’d even see him walking around with a cigarette tucked between his slightly chapped lips, he was rarely without one. He exuded a sense of danger that both intrigued and scared you. But there was something about the way he moved, rough yet graceful, that made your heart skip a beat whenever he passed by. However, you never dared to approach him, always hiding in the background observing.

You didn’t mind, it was comfortable.

The town was small so it was easy to watch him. Easy to find him even because he was always in the same places. Bar, road, gas station, and occasionally grocery store. That last one was rare though. When you saw him across the aisle looking at bread, you thought you were hallucinating.

It was a rather strange sight; he looked so out of place. A tall, blonde biker in a grocery store with mothers and children, casually looking at bread. You would have giggled if you weren’t so nervous. Your lips slightly parted as you lost motor control of your body, the bag of rolls you held falling out of your hands.

“Shoot,” you muttered as you quickly bent down to pick them, trying to prevent the weird looks from staying on you.

You chuckled nervously as you rose up, giving timid looks to the grandmas and moms looking at you.

“Hello dear,” a high-pitched voice greeted cheerfully, forcing you to shift focus.

Turning around, you came face to face with Mrs. Leonard, a regular at your family’s bakery. She was an older lady having several grandkids that she loved to gush about. But, despite being older, she still had strength that astounded you greatly. You weren’t surprised to see her here, just bummed that she was here now, the only time you had seen biker boy here.

“Hello, Mrs. Leonard,” you smiled. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Oh, likewise,” she smiled back sweetly. “What are you doing looking at rolls, sweety? I couldn’t imagine buying rolls here when I could have yours to eat for free.”

You smile at her compliment, your ears warming.

“I was simply looking. I’m actually looking for ingredients. I’m trying a new recipe for a raspberry curd cake. How’s your son? I heard he’s back in town.”

“That sounds mighty tasty. And oh, he is just wonderful. It’s so nice to see my grandkids. Ya know, ever since they moved to California-”

And she was off. You liked Mrs. Leonard, truly you did, but you could never get used to her never-ending monologues about who-knows-what. She was a cute old lady, though.

As she spoke, you moved to put the rolls back on the shelf, and when you turned to look back at the biker, he was gone. A small crease in between your eyebrows developed as your bottom lip found its way between your teeth. You nibbled on it as you felt disappointment wash over you. However, you quickly masked it with a well-practised smile.

As you wandered the store next to the old lady, your mind wandered back to the handsome biker who had been standing right across the aisle. You perked up slightly as you realised that that was the closest you had ever been to him. You could practically smell the gasoline and cologne that wafted off of him. You had even seen the small freckles on his face and took note of his faint sun-kissed cheeks, just the slightest bit of pink.

This was also the first time you’d seen him without a cigarette.

You felt a tug at the corner of your lips that only stopped when you rubbed it away.

“Dear? Hello? Bun!”

Your eyes snapped to Mrs. Leonard, hearing the nickname given to you by your family.

“Are you alright, bun,” she asked, placing a hand over yours. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Oh. Yes ma’am. I’m quite alright, just a bit tired is all. No need to worry. What was that you were saying?”

“Oh, yes! Monti, the dreadful boy has been tearing at-”

Her story continued on until you had finished checking out and had to part ways. And when your back hit the seat of your car you let out the biggest sigh of the week. What was supposed to have been a ten-minute grocery run for fresh raspberries and lemon juice had turned into a 45-minute gossiping session. The energy that was supposed to be used to bake that new raspberry curd cake had been exerted to try to keep up with Mrs. Leonard. Now, you’d have to pull from nothing.

Your head slammed into the steering wheel with a groan that was quickly replaced with a yelp when your car horn went off. People entering and exiting the store turned to look at your car in confusion and slight offence.

“Sorry,” you chuckled timidly.

|*|

The next day rolled around, and you were excited to put out your new Raspberry Delight, which is what you had decided to call your new cake. You had been experimenting with this cake for the past two weeks, figuring out what to layer, and how sweet the raspberry curd should be. Should they have a raspberry jam? Was that too much? Perhaps, a layer of crumble? But, last night, you had perfected everything and had gotten the green light from both your mother and your father to sell.

You had decided to sell it in these cute mason jars and had personally tied the little maroon bows on it. You were setting out the last of the baked goods into the little window by the register when the doorbell rang, letting you know that someone had entered the store.

“Good morning,” you greeted cheerfully, from below the register, setting the dirty trays there.

“Good morning,” a gruff voice spoke.

You stood abruptly.

He was here.

Tall, dark, and handsome was here…right in front of you.

You, who probably has flour all over her and who is sweating from the ovens.

“What can I get for you today,” you say softly, looking down and wiping your hands on your apron.

“I couldn’t help but overhear you yesterday, about the raspberry…something cake. It sounded mighty good and I thought I would come by and get it before it sold out.”

“You were listening,” you let out, surprised.

“I sure was missy. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of something so tasty,” he admits with a sly smile.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his statement.

“Okay, one Raspberry Delight, anything else?”

“Is there anything else you would recommend?”

As you let yourself think, the man let himself look at you. You didn’t notice, but the biker’s eyes never left you and one thing he noticed was that your eyes never met his. He didn’t like that. He wanted to look at him. He needed you to look at him.

He saw your eyes light up as you thought of something, making the man smile. And just as you were about to speak, a sharp voice interrupted

“Excuse me.”

The sharpness in your mother’s tone made you bite at the inside of your cheek.

“Good morning, ma’am,” the man smiled politely, despite her cold demeanour.

“We don’t serve customers like you,” your mother bit.

You knew your mother’s opinion on the growing biker gang in town. Your father and your mother both thought that the group of men were a bunch of bums who had no right to be causing such a fuss. They hated The Vandals, almost as much as satan. You recalled nights at the dinner table where your father's anger had boiled over, making him claim to do awful things to the biker gang. What’s worse, your mother had egged him on.

The man’s smile faltered at your mother’s words, but he recovered quickly.

“I just wanted to buy a cake,” he said calmly.

You could see the tension in his posture, the way his eyes flickered between your mother and you.

“Mom,” you said softly. “You always say business is business.”

“Well, this is MY business,” she snapped. “And I reserve the right to refuse service. Get out of my store.”

You felt a mix of emotions swirling inside you - frustration at your mother’s closed-mindedness, and sympathy for the man standing in front of you.

Your eyes met his, and you hoped that he could understand the apology. He nodded towards you, and you watched his jaw feather in annoyance. You felt your heart drop at the realisation that he might blame you.

“I’ll take my leave then,” he said, walking away as he took a cigarette out of the box.

“Yeah, you go on now,” your mother sneered, causing you to flinch.

He didn’t respond as the doorbell dinged.

You watched as the man walked away, his back straight and his steps purposeful. You couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt weighing heavily on your shoulders.

You swallowed in disappointment in yourself and your lack of ability to stand up to your mother and in your mother for her lack of empathy and kindness.

“Don’t you ever talk to them folks again? Ya hear?”

“But-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she cut you off. “You so much as go near them, and I’ll make sure you don’t leave the house again. You understand me, girl.”

You just looked down, and your mother took that as a yes. She went back to the kitchen, muttering obscenities under her breath, and you went back to setting up for the day, now with a heavy heart.

As the day went on, you found it difficult to concentrate on the daily operations of the bakery. Your hands moved mechanically as you went through the motions of baking, but your heart was heavy with a mix of curiosity and guilt. Each served customer was a reminder of the one you couldn’t serve, the very one you wanted to the most.

“Hey,” your dad said softly. “What’s going on in your head bun?”

“Oh, nothing,” you smiled sweetly, perfectly masking your growing frustration with your parents, the town, and life in general. “Just a little tired is all. I stayed up late trying to come up with a new thing to work on and now that the raspberry cake is done I need something new. I’m going to go make a new batch of the Raspberry Delights.”

You tightened the scarf around your head as you walked back to the kitchen to grab the fresh tray of cookies that needed icing.

“Okay,” your dad called. “But focus! We don’t need you burning yourself again because you were off in Neverland.”

You knew he was joking, but it did nothing but jab the knife a little deeper.

As you began making the base for the cake, you found yourself wondering why you bothered to stay. It was your baked goods in the window, and yet, it was their name on the sign, getting the money, and it was them making fun of you.

Every time you brought up the fact that you wanted a portion of the profits because they were selling your ideas, they had a fit and said, “Your baking isn’t even that good. Since you now have a couple of things in the window, you think you can call the shots, huh? Is that what it is? Well, maybe we’ll just take them out.”

It was empty threats, and you knew it was, your items were some of the best sellers, but it never stopped the fear that entered your system. However, the thought that you might never leave and be stuck here with parents who don’t respect you or your creations scared you more.

A newfound determination lit up in your gut as you baked.

That evening, after closing up, you told your parents you wanted to work on a new pastry that you’d been thinking about and that you’d meet them at home. They had been hesitant but let you stay in the end, telling you to be careful on your way back. You waited a good 20 minutes to make sure they weren’t coming back before gathering up your things and the two freshly made Raspberry Delight jars and locking up the store.

The cool night air brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, your heartbeat quickening. You hopped on your bike and threw your bag in the basket, careful not to break the glass before you took off down the road. Even a couple of blocks down, you could hear the rumble of engines and the faint sound of laughter from the home of the town’s biker gang.

As you approached the bar, you hesitated, hopping off your bike that suddenly felt childish next to the rows of motorcycles. You could hear the whooping and hollering of the men inside and jumped when you heard the sound of shattering glass followed by laughter.

Your breath left you in small huffs as the chilly night air nipped at your cheeks. The two jars in your bag hit each other softly, causing a ‘clink’ to echo through the empty space. It also caused a surge of resolve. You jogged up to the doors before the newfound confidence disappeared and opened them gently. You entered the bar without making a sound and closed the doors even softer than you had opened them.

The dimly lit bar was crowded with rowdy bikers, their denim jackets adorned with patches and studs that allowed the light to glint off of them. The air is thick with the scent of smoke, sweat, and alcohol. As you stood there, taking it all in, you could also smell the distinct scent of leather and engine oil.

As you make your way through the crowd, you try to avoid making eye contact, feeling small and out of place.

Don’t draw attention. Don’t draw attention. Don’t draw attention. Don’t draw attention.

That mantra in your head continued as you hugged your bag close and made yourself small. Navigating the crowded bar proved to be rather difficult, especially when you were trying not to hit anyone. A plethora of ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse me’ left your lips before you reached an empty table in the back. You sit your bag down and allowed yourself to breathe as best you could anyway, the taste of smoke filled your mouth, making it dry and slightly bitter. You try to swallow, but the air feels too thick and heavy to allow it.

The dim, hazy lighting of the bar, combined with the smoke from cigarettes and the bodies, made it difficult to see clearly. People pressed close together, their limbs hitting one another.

You stuck out like a sore thumb. You had worn a corduroy skirt that day and, if that wasn’t bad enough, a pastel blue halter accompanied it. If ‘Look at Me’ had a mascot, it’d be you.

The tips of your ears burned as your eyes scanned the crowd of bikers. Normally, you could find tall and blonde easily but, in this crowd, it was like trying to find a needle in a needle stack.

However, after about 10 minutes of searching, you found him near the pool table. His eyes fixed on the green felt with an intensity that you could feel from all the way across the room.

You allowed yourself to just stare, taking in his rugged appearance that finally seemed to fit into his surroundings. His arms were on full display, and the light caught the ridges of his muscles in a sinfully perfect way. His hair was tousled and swooped up as if the wind had permanently swept it there. The thought made you giggle. You took in his tattoos, his rings, and the grease stains his shirt housed. The stains alone sent you to a whole daydream.

Visions of him fixing a motorcycle, his muscles moving seamlessly as he worked. His focus fixed on the machinery, understanding the beauty and power of the bike, and knowing exactly what it needed. A playful smile on his lips as he caressed the engine. The sunlight catching the sweat glistening on his skin, highlighting every curve and ridge of his body. His strong hands, covered in grease, as he worked with precision and finesse. The occasional grunt or sigh as he exerts force in just the right places. Every now and then, he let out a satisfied chuckle as he successfully fixes a part.

Before you knew it, you had replaced the motorcycle.

You let out a squeak at your own imagination. Causing heads to turn towards you. For once, you didn’t notice because you were too busy mentally beating yourself.

You had to give him these cakes before you embarrassed yourself even more.

You took a deep breath to steady your nerves before making your way over to him, each step feeling heavier with the weight of uncertainty.

As you approached, he finally tore his gaze away from the pool table and locked eyes with you. There was a flicker of surprise in his expression, quickly masked by a guarded demeanour. You could sense the tension in his posture as you stood before him, unsure of how he would react to your presence.

He walked toward you, cue stick in hand. His piercing blue eyes bore into yours as he got closer.

“Can I help you with something, sweetheart,” he asked, his gruff voice filling your senses. He leaned against the cue stick, bringing him closer to you. Even hunched over he looked down at you, you had never felt so small.

"I... I brought you these," you stammered out, holding out the two jars of Raspberry Delights towards him. "What happened at the bakery earlier wasn't right and I’m ashamed that I just stood by and let it happen. Please accept them as an apology."

He studied you for a moment, his face contorting slightly as a myriad of emotions flickered. Finally, he reached out and took the jars from your shaky hands.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, his gaze softening.

You nodded with a smile, clasping your hands together and letting out a breath of relief. You rocked back and forth on your feet as you realised that you hadn’t planned out a conversation in your head. You had no clue what to say to the man standing in front of you.

As you struggled to find the right words, only two came out:

“Okay bye.”

You were moving before you could register, bolting out of the crowded bar and into the crisp air of the night. You allowed yourself to breathe in deeply, filling your lungs fully for the first time since you entered the bar. It was also easier to breathe without him being near.

You swallowed as you stood straight up and shuffled towards your bike. Your lip found its place between your teeth while you replayed the interaction in your head. You shrunk into yourself at how you acted. You had dreamed of an interaction with tall and blond for months, given him numerous names that never seemed to fit. You had thought about wowing him with a quick tongue and a perfected sense of humour. But, when it came down to it, you chickened out. You literally ran away.

You reached your bike, which now seemed extra childish coming out of the bar. Now that you think about it, you’ve never been so close to a motorcycle before, only looking from afar. The need to inspect the bike tugged at your heart. It didn’t take much for you to give in.

You reached out and let your fingertips graze the frame of the bike, collecting the dirt that had found a home on the metal. Your eyes trailed the winding metal of the interior, wondering what each thing did. You could smell the gasoline and faintly taste metal on the tip of your tongue, and you smiled at its slight sweetness.

“You like bikes?”

Your hands flinched back as if the bike itself had spoken and your eyes went to the voice.

“Um,” you stuttered as you were met with tall and blond. “I, uh, I don’t have an opinion on them. They’re pretty though.”

“Pretty?” he chuckled, flicking the butt of the cigarette to the ground.

“Mmhmm. I’ve never seen one up close before. I apologise for touching them, it won’t happen again.”

“Calm down,” he smiled. “You look like I’m about to cut your hand off.”

You swallowed thickly and dusted off the dirt your fingertips had collected.

“Come here.”

His tone was friendly and inviting yet commanding, so you followed him over to a particular motorcycle that he leaned against.

“This one’s yours?” you asked/stated.

He just smiled a crooked smile and nodded.

“You can inspect to your heart's content, little miss.”

You feel a familiar tug at your lips as you let yourself circle the bike. It was a lot nicer than the last one, in your opinion. The black colour of the fenders matched tall and blonde, and the framework looked well-loved. You allowed your fingers to touch the bike, letting them trail down the seat until they reached the end of the bike and fell off.

“Hey, listen,” his voice making you snap your eyes to him. “How ‘bout as payment for the cakes, I take you on a ride?”

Your heart jumped into your throat, “Oh, I could never. I’m happy to watch from a distance.”

“Oh,” he feigned a pout as you walked back to where he was leaning. “Well then miss, I hate to say this but I can’t accept these.”

He pulled out a jar from each of his pockets and presented them to you.

“What?” you looked at the cakes and then back at him, offence displaying itself on your features.

“You heard me,” he smirked. “It wouldn’t be right. You put an awful lotta work into these cakes, you can’t just be given ‘em away.”

You bit your lip at the predicament in frustration and furrowed your eyebrows. The tall man raised an eyebrow and fought a smile that told you he was enjoying this.

“So, you’re saying if I let you give me a ride…you’ll take the cakes?”

“Yes I am, miss,” he confirms. “It would be my pleasure.”

An internal battle raged in you, but all you had to do was glance at the look on his face. The thrill of the unknown mingled with the warmth of his smile was enough to make your heart race. His eyes housed a genuine want, a need, and far be it from you to deny him. The “battle” was over before it even started.

“Fine, yeah, okay,” you relented.

His grin widened as he got on and gestured for you to hop on behind him. You couldn’t contain the flutter of excitement as you settled onto the motorcycle. The engine roared to life beneath you, vibrating with power and promise, mirroring your heartbeat.

“Hold on to me,” he instructed.

You swallowed before wrapping your arms around him gingerly, really your arms formed a ring around him, not touching him at all.

“You’ll need to hold on a little tighter, miss,” he chuckled.

Slowly, your arms tightened around him, a little too slow for him apparently because he kicked off suddenly causing you to grip him harshly.

“You jerk,” you shouted, as the wind nipped against your skin.

You couldn’t hear it but could feel the laugh the man in front of you let out, his strong back convulsing in a familiar rhythm. Your cheek was pressed against the denim of his jacket, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him. Lights and corn fields passed by in a blurry mix, and soon the stars were the only thing you could see clearly.

His rythmatic breathing brought a smile to your lips, and you could picture the look of pure serenity on his face. His cologne mixed with cigarettes and gasoline became one you already missed as you breathed in deeply, savouring every moment.

You understood now, the feeling The Vandals sought out, it was peace. It was forgetting everything and giving it all to the road ahead of them. The thrill of speed coursed through your veins, exhilarating and freeing. You held on to the man in front of you, feeling the powerful rumble of the motorcycle beneath you as it devoured the distance.

Every now and again he would look back to check on you, and every time you’d give him the same reassuring nod that let him know you were doing okay.

As you rode deeper into the night, a sense of liberation washed over you. The worries and insecurities that had plagued your mind earlier faded into the background, replaced by a sense of adventure and possibility. The road stretched out before you like an endless ribbon, beckoning you to explore its twists and turns.

However, it was over too soon. Before long, you had found your way back to the biker gang’s bar.

He finally came to a stop in a small open space, the engine purring to a halt. You untangled yourself from him, stepping off the bike with shaky legs.

You turned to face him, his silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. His eyes bore into yours, a mix of mystery and need.

“Thank you,” you beamed. “That was wonderful.”

“My pleasure miss,” he grins back, a hint of sadness flashing across his face as he got off the bike.

“I’m jealous,” you admitted, watching as took off his gloves. “You get to do that every day.”

“You could too,” he says before he could catch himself, leaning against it. “If you wanted to.”

“That would be amazing,” you say, rocking back and forth on your toes in thought.

The man smiled at your frame, admiring the way you could disappear into your head at the drop of a hat.

“Oh,” you snapped out of your reverie, shocking the man before you. “Now you have to eat the cake.”

“What,” he deadpanned.

“You have to eat the cake,” you repeated. “I kept my end of the deal now you keep yours.”

“I don’t have a-”

“Here,” you say, pulling a spoon from your bag.

“I don’t know where that spoon had been,” he smirks.

“Can you just try it,” you mumbled. “I want to see if you like it.”

He couldn’t say no to you even if he wanted to.

Putting the spoon in his mouth, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out one of the jars of Raspberry Delights. As he twists it open he swears he sees your eyes widen, and he has to stop himself from blushing at your eagerness.

You're practically bouncing while you watch him dip the spoon into the cake and put it to his lips. You hold your breath as he takes it in.

His brows furrow before he breaks out into a smile.

“That’s fucking delicious,” he lets out. “It's not too sweet, which I like.”

He watches as you glow brighter at the compliments.

“I’m glad you like it,” you sigh, looking at the ground in shyness.

“I love it, little miss,” he corrects, as he takes another spoonful of the raspberry cake into his mouth. “Now, I’m jealous. You get to eat these all the time.”

“I can fix that,” you giggle, and before you can think you're cleaning the corner of his mouth with your thumb lovingly.

As you begin to retract your hand, he grabs hold of it, keeping your hand on his face. His eyes watched you intently. There was a raw intensity in them, a fire that burned bright against the darkness. His rough fingers smoothed out yours so that you were caressing his face, his hand still covering yours.

You were so shocked and entranced by the touch that you didn’t notice his tongue darting out to clean your thumb.

A yelp echoed through the night as he sucked on the leftover raspberry cream, your skin prickling with a sudden heat. His eyes remained trained on yours, a twinge of playfulness circling his irises. He observed your gaze fall to where his tongue connected with your finger. He watched as your lips parted in concentration and curiosity.

He loved that look, the eagerness in your eyes to see what would happen next. He also loved the power you gave him in the moment, the trust you gave him to guide you.

He wanted more. He craved more. He craved you.

Your eyes flickered to his as he released your hand and reached out to caress your face. The rough calluses of his hand actually felt nice against your soft cheeks and, unconsciously, you leaned into it. The gesture brought a loving smile to his face.

He set the jar of raspberry cake on the back of his bike and let his hand fall to the small of your waist, pulling you closer. The gasp you let out only fueled his growing need for you. Your chest rose and fell against him and you felt the tips of your ears beginning to burn. The focus in his gaze made you feel like the only girl in the world, and that terrified you. At that moment, the only thing you wanted to do at that moment was look down or away from him, but the hand on your cheek didn’t allow it.

“Can I kiss you miss?” he breathed out, already bringing you closer.

“Please,” you let out, surprising yourself.

He didn't waste another second and closed the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a fervent, intoxicating kiss. The world around you seemed to fade away as you melted into each other, a whirlwind of passion and desire consuming every inch of your being.

His kiss was like nothing you had ever experienced before, a mixture of roughness and tenderness that sent shivers down your spine. You found yourself lost in the moment, your hands instinctively clinging onto his jacket as he deepened the kiss, his demeanour shifting from playful to intense.

As the kiss lingered, time seemed to stand still. It was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other's arms beneath the moonlit sky. The night air crackled with electricity, and you could feel the heat radiating between you as if it were its own entity.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were left breathless and flushed, your chests rising and falling in sync. His eyes bore into yours, lips falling into a smile.

“I’m, uh, I’m Benny,” he stuttered, his cheeks becoming a slight pink.

“Hello Benny,” you giggle at his sudden show of shyness. “Everyone calls me Bun.”

|*|

A/n: first time writing for Austin!! Feedback is welcomed. Hope you enjoyed!!

[xxanaduwrites]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a residue series installment ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

sweet talkin’

main hive 🐝 | next part here: honey, are you comin’?

✎ elementary-teacher!reader (miss.honey) x biker!benny 🏍️

summary: in which “uncle benny” picks up johnny’s girls from school and finds some honey along the way ;)

warnings: not much of anything besides talks of danger & some side eyes from on-lookers. an absolute fluff cake of a piece really. enjoy! x

author’s note: ngl there is some inaccuracies. i fully made up locations & such. never been to chicago or illinois even, but maybe someday :)

word count: 2.8k

💌 requests are open, send ‘em honey 💋

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You remember it like it was yesterday, the very first time you met Benny Cross. Ironically, it was one of those sticky sweet days in June, just before the start of summer ‘65. The Chicago heat was hard to beat in the cramped little classroom you worked in on Phipps Avenue. Your third graders were all flushed faces with curly cues frizzing about, and their red little cheeks burned in exhaustion. It was no surprise that you lost their ears to the tsk tsk tsk of sprinklers swirling about on the school grounds. Even though the principal was against it, you were rather relieved to see your students running about the wet grass come dismissal.

It was a lovely reprieve, truly to be out of the shoe box you worked in at the end of the day. Sure, the heat hadn’t let up. It was awfully sweltering passing clammy hand to clammy hand to their designated pick up person. But you loved being a teacher. Moreseo you loved those sweet turned up smiles that graced those baby faces of your students as they chatted about their after school plans. Heading down to the local pool or picking up a firecracker pop at the corner store was such a sweet treat. It made you miss being that young again, finding hidden treasures through the little bits of life.

You moved like clockwork during dismissal, attentive as you made small talk with parents and hugged your students goodbye. The pick of the cycle was usually smooth on your part. You knew who tended to be retrieved right away and who was left hanging, so it took you by a hint of surprise when you found yourself still hand in hand with Mr. and Mrs. Davis’s little girls.

You knew the Davis’s well — as well as anyone could holding residence in the quaint village of McCook, Illinois. Mr. Davis and his wife Betty were perishoners at the local church you frequented with your Ma and Pa. St. Caron’s on the corner of Rose and Dawn. You’d see them all together in their Sunday best, the kids in puff pastry kind-of dresses packed together in a pew with their Ma, while their Pa was mulling about in his pressed suit and tie. There was no trace of the Vandals you’d come to know, the Johnny that would be amplified under that some-what imposterous clean cut demeanor. You’d see him solemn as ever ushering pew to pew with the collections basket for the poor and at communion during the mass.

Yet, if you had to name one thing that complimented Johnny to Mr. Davis, it had to be his consistency with being on time. Never once was he ever late to church. 12pm sharp he’d be looking at his watch, waitin’ for the priest and deacon to do their thang. The same applied for his children and their respected school schedule.

It took you a moment to remember the note from the office that was sent up in the afternoon. In your defense, mastering concentration in this heat proved almost impossible. Until it wasn’t. You could see the lovely writing of the secretary with that neat cursive of hers in the back of your mind, reminding you that the Davis girls would be picked up by their Uncle Benny come dismissal.

That would explain it, you thought. But would it really? Fathoming a member of Mr. Davis’s family not being as meticulous as him? You momentarily wondered how the man would react to such a thing as being late. You were sure it wasn’t in his vocabulary by any means.

Your fingers, engulfing the petite ones of the Davis girls, squeezed their hands reassuringly. “M’sure your Uncle Benny will be here any moment.” Neither of them said anything as you glanced between the two flanked at your sides, little eyelashes blinking up at you without a care in the world. And here you thought they would be just as anal-retentive as their father.

They weren’t.

Since the school yard was becoming less compact with people, and the principal put an end to the fun with the sprinklers, you figured some chit-chat wouldn't hurt to keep them occupied. “You girls have any fun afternoon plans?”

The Davis girl on the right, taller, darker hair, lookin’ far too much like her father — a carbon copy if you will — spoke up then. “Yes! Uncle Benny is takin’ us to a picnic. Gonna see Daddy race his bike, Miss. Honey.”

A bike race, huh? You couldn’t remember seeing anything in the McCook weekly papers ‘bout an upcoming cycling event. But, hey maybe you happened to miss it on your skim of the thing, when your Pa just so happened to put it down for a second durin’ dinner.

“Well, ain’t that sweet!” You chirped, smiling brightly at the girls with genuine excitement in your eyes. “Sure it’ll be tons of fun.”

“S’not when Daddy gets all muddy.” The smaller girl, the one that looked more like her mother. Lighter hair and lighter eyes said. Her tiny face contorted into a grimace.

Muddy? Weren’t cycling races on the roads?

Surely the town would block off the streets like they did for those celebratory parades. The little one was probably exaggerating.

“Aw,” you hummed, a frown dousing your features. “M’sure your Pa is just real dedicated, y’know?” You tried to bring out the bright side for your student. “S’like when you buy a fresh book and worry about those pages dentin’. Y’won’t know if you like it if you don’t read it, right?” The girls nodded. “Dentin’ the pages just goes to show all that love you had for that book while readin’ it.”

“I guess…” The Davis girl shrugged, tiny fingers wrapping about the strap of her pretty pink backpack. Seemingly, she wasn’t as impressed as her sister to the right.

You were gonna change the subject. Gonna start chatting ‘bout something else, when a twist of tiers against the pavement sent a squeak across the air. Your mother-hen instincts kicked in instantly, protective hands pulling the girls behind you without a second thought. All heads turned simultaneously to the intrusion on the road, expecting the worst. Expecting a crash of sorts. But no, there was no crash, just a slick car pulling abruptly up against the sidewalk and jerking to a startling stop. One that could only be equated to the driver going far above the speed limit in a school zone.

It went quiet. Far too quiet as the lot of remaining faculty, students, and parents alike kept their eyes peeled back sharply at the reckless driver. Funnily enough the attentive stares of onlookers could have very well been just as bad as those witnessing an actual crash.

You weren’t any better than the rest, collecting snap shot after snap shot like a roll of consecutive film. You could still hear the engine cutting out, the door swinging open and closing with a solid flick of his wrist. A wrist that would do far worse to you in the bedroom. Far worse in the eyes of your religious upbringing, but would feel too holy to you to be considered a sin.

You only caught a glance of him for a second until his back was facing towards you, thick white letters staking his claim with a skull and crossbones for the Chicago Vandals on his cut down vest.

You’d heard a thing or two about those motorcycle men. Your father ranting and raving about the disturbances near route 95 and police chases. But never, had you ever seen one of them in the flesh up close and personal. A shrill of unprecedented delight shot up your spine at the colorful sight, no longer reserved to those blurry black and white paper cuttings.

Stopping in his tracks, you figured his car must have broken down or somethin’ – but no. He was putting out his cigarette with his worn down boot before making his way over to you, and oh he had his eye on you alright.

A relative unease wahed across the school yard, harder than the obvious heat wave as he sauntered across without a care in the world. As if dozens of heads weren’t makin’ disgusted faces and whispering about. Yet a clear intimidation set over them, people stepping out of the way without a word as if he was a Bible figure. Like Moses parting the red sea.

“Uncle Benny!” One of them chirped. Who you didn’t know, couldn’t know with the sudden flush creeping against your cheeks. Your heart dropped to your stomach once you realized who it was and that the man himself with dirty blonde scruff, calloused fingers, and a black inked layer over a honey toned canvas was makin’ a beeline to you. A beeline to you and the girls.

It was the taller Davis girl that must have called out his name, cause suddenly she was pulling you and her sister forward to meet Benny half way. You almost tripped down the stairs within the broken bubble of her excitement. Barely having a moment’s notice to collect yourself, you found your pristine baby pink ballet flats toe to toe with some scruffed up biker boots that had seen better days. You managed a breath before you looked up and boy were you glad you did.

The wind was practically knocked clean out of you when you were caught face to face with the Benny Cross. It wasn’t because you were scared of him — no. You were more taken aback with how pretty he was. How his deeply set ocean eyes managed to speak volumes without saying a word.

And suddenly, on the front steps of Phipps Avenue School you felt seen. More seen than you had ever felt in your life. He wasn’t the only one sticking out like the sorest of thumbs. So were you with your baby pink tank to match your shoes with your signature embroidered denim overall dress. Hair up and out of your face, loose honey curls frizzing about. Your kitsch tastes and unpolished attire were rather baffling for the picturesque depiction gracing the magazines your Ma read at the salon.

Some would say you were lost somewhere in Neverland. Lots of your fellow teachers would crack jokes here and there ‘bout it too. Sure, on a bad day a jab or two could get to you — but hey you liked what you liked and you weren’t gonna change that. Not for anybody. Not even for your Ma or Pa who grimaced at your bedazzled pins wedged into your messy curls during Sunday mass.

So Benny, well who were you to judge him?

“Hi, you must be Uncle Benny,” you greeted the brood of a man in front of you, flexing a sweet-like-honey smile that was just oh-so-you. You let go of the Johnny look-a-likes hand then, allowing her to wrap her small self around Benny’s leg in pure delight to see him as you outstretched your hand in a shake. To your dismay, he didn’t take it. Instead, his free hand that wasn’t mushing up Johnny’s girls dark locks as he patted her head fished for his pack of Marlboro reds in his vest pocket. That didn’t stop you from introducing yourself though. “I’m Miss. Honey.”

He gave you once over, eyes tracing you from head to toe before the edge of his lip tweaked up in a sly smile. “Honey, huh?” He mused, that deep set voice of his, thick and smokey sweetin’ up something deep inside you.

Dropping your hand back down against your dress, the material felt rather rough on your clammy skin. “Yuh-huh.” You nodded, that tight smile of yours making your eyes twitch just a bit.

A fresh cigarette materialized between his teeth then, unlit. A strange courtesy you found rather charming on the midst of educational grounds. “Hm,” he hummed, the narrow cylinder vibrating against his lips as his eyes devoured you a second time. Yet, you figured he was more unimpressed. Most were anyways.

“Benny! Benny! Can we go see Daddy now?” The girl wrapped around his leg yanked his belt loop with a small finger. The little one was still at your side, hand in hand with you. It was kind of amusin’ how different the two were. It was simple figuring out who was the bigger Daddy’s girl of the two.

“In a ‘inute, sweet-art,” he mumbled, that cigarette of his disrupting any fully coherent sentence from spillin’ out. “C’mere ‘ittle one,” he motioned to the shorter girl who was rather uninterested in leaving. In the midst of your conversation, she managed to keep her hand raised, keeping herself conjoined to you as she sat down on the bottom step in complete and utter protest.

“Don’t wanna.” She pouted down at her bunny tied saddle shoes that matched her pretty little pick-tails.

In a sense, you couldn’t blame her. Now it was all adding up. What was really going on. This wasn’t just some run of the mill village cycling marathon. This was a Vandals bike race.

Any other teacher would have probably made a stink, called the parents in for a sit down with the principal over infiltrating their kids in a biker environment infused with criminal records. But, you weren’t like that — no. Especially when you’d see a child’s eyes light up with so much delight. It was clear that Mr. Davis’s look-a-like was really proud of her father. Who could blame her? Respected throughout the community, a family man who put his all into a trucking' job.

A picnic with some bike racin’ wouldn’t be so bad, right?

Not with Mr. Davis involved.

So, you gave the benefit of the doubt. Sure, it could have been for all those reasons that were swarming about your head, but in actuality your heart was working double time over your mind. The image of the Davis girl clinging to Benny’s leg had teddy bear written all over it, giving you all the sweet talkin’ you’d need. Ironically enough, in due time that soft side of him would turn into plushy lovin’ reserved just for you.

“Lemme,” you mouthed to Benny before getting down to the little one’s level. Flattening out your skirt you took a seat next to her and rested both hands over her own in her lap. “Remember when we were talkin’ about a good book? Dentin’ the pages?” The girl nodded, but didn’t meet your eye. Instead, Benny doing the opposite, his eyes practically grilled onto your peripheral vision. “Well, sometimes if we are too protective of it. Too keen on keeping it all in tack, we’ll never learn not to and we’ll just be more and more disappointed when we come across a little crack we never created in the first place. We may not like it, but it’s there, and there is so much love there.” You squeeze the little girl’s hand. “Just like your old man racin’. You may not like it, but he does, and that’s quite alright. You know why?”

“Why?” She looked up at you then, little doe eyes attentive as ever, clinging onto your every word. It was times like this that reminded you why you were a teacher.

“‘Cause you love him, no matter what” You replied, tilting your head ever-so subtly to observe her reaction.

And oh did Benny love you. He didn’t know it then. Couldn’t fully compartmentalize it until later. Yet, unbeknownst to you, it was one of the first of what would become many of Benny's thoughts on how damn good of a teacher you were, how fine of a wife you’d make, and how sweet of a mother you’d be.

Thankfully, your words must have resonated with the little girl. It only took a moment for those delightful dimples of hers to grace those little features before her lips turned up in a sweet smile. “We gotta go Uncle Benny!” The girl declared suddenly, standing up straight with a whole new attitude. You were glad to supply the optimism. That’s what you were all about. That was the lesson you hoped to instill to your students the most.

You couldn’t help but smile yourself, feeling like a warm blanket was being draped over your shoulders soundly. Not uncomfortable. Not contributing to the intolerable heat wave. You’d only been in your second year of teaching, but hey — small victories like this made it worth it. Made you proud of yourself, even if you couldn’t find such gratitude from others.

Little did you know, Benny — he was so fuckin’ proud. Proud to see you spreading such honey-coated wisdom to a youngin’. And there on the steep steps of Phipps Avenue school as the little one wrapped her arms around you and thanked you profusely before grabbing Benny’s hand and heading to Johnny’s car, he found his mission.

You were gonna be his wife.

He was sure of it.

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this was so much fun to write! i hope you liked it :) i’m thinking of also including some honey interviews curtesy of danny ! stay tuned for “from the hive” 🎙️🐝

also to note, my requests are open for any miss honey x benny cross works + any convos about these two in general. don’t be shy honey, i’m all for yapping in the asks.

+ don’t forget to comment if you’d like be added to “da bee hive” (my version of da tag list)

smoochies. all da love xanadu 💋

da bee hive 🐝🍯:

@nervousnerdwitch

@sunnbib

@rose-deathman

@austinbsblog

@thegabbyh

@jihyowrrld

@bellesdreamyprofile

@superemobitch

@m00npjm

@imusicaddict

@astrogrande

@alana4610

@cynic-spirit

@mariaenchanted

[50sbutler]

Austin Butler and Tom Hardy as 'Benny' and 'Johnny', The Bikeriders (2024)

[seresinhangmanjake]

Together and More

Daddy!Benny Cross x Momma!Reader

Summary: Daddy!Benny moments from the birth of his baby to a parenting anxiety episode to a few years down the line with a little toddler.

Notes/Warnings: *Spoiler free* Unofficial Part 3 to Come Back Knockin’ and Come Back Together. I say ‘unofficial’ because it’s more like an epilogue-y time-jump thing and I might go back later and add more fics between the last part and this to bulk up the story (if people are interested. If not I’ll probably just move on to new Benny fics unrelated to this story). Fluffy family cuteness. Girl dad!Benny. Angsty-ish at brief points (if you squint, I suppose). Kissing. Mention of pregnancy. Typos.

Words: 3400

Benny Cross Masterlist

When the nurse escorts him into the delivery room, Benny freezes. Wide blue orbs flick between you and the bundle in your arms, and despite the distance, you can see his hard swallow. You can practically feel his heart thumping, reverberating off the walls, and when his lips part, you’re unsure if it’s from awe or anxiety or a mix of the both. 

When it comes to your husband’s emotions over the birth of his child, it has varied by the day. There’s been a steadiness and consistency to his excitement, thankfully, but he has vacillated between trusting in his ability to be a father and questioning what good he can bring to a kid’s life. This last week in particular was the most chaotic for his ups and downs knowing your due date was around the corner.

“Hi Daddy,” you say, hoping your smile will ease any brewing discomfort in his system. Benny doesn’t move, but his gaze has officially decided to glue to the baby. For the moment, you’ll take that as a win. Had you given birth eight months ago, you’re not sure he would have touched his child with a ten-foot pole, let alone looked at them. “Well, are you going to come see her or what?”

Benny snaps out of the shock gripping his body and he blinks. Swallows again. “It’s a girl?” he asks, a mild tremble in his voice.

With your nod, he takes a deep breath, and from the continuation of your encouraging smile, his limbs regain their functioning. It’s a snails-pace twenty steps, but eventually, he makes it to your side. 

There’s a twinge of guilt in your gut from feeling relieved while he’s tightly wound with tension, but you can’t help it. Benny is unpredictable until the last second. As much as he’s been reliable during your final months of pregnancy, nipping at your mind was the possibility of a second disappearance. But he didn’t run. He’s here. He came to you. He came for her. 

Benny’s knuckles whiten around the railing of your bed as you pull your daughter away from your chest and tilt her forward so he can take in her sleeping face. 

“Hold her,” you say, raising your arms toward him. Benny’s eyes widen. He backs up and you sigh, having expected that response. “Benny.”

“I’ll drop her.”

“Yea, because you’re so weak-muscled,” you tease with a playful roll of your eyes. You cradle your baby against your body so you have a free hand to reach out and grab him by the wrist, guiding him back to the edge of the bed. 

“Hold your arm out,” you instruct. A beat passes but he does as you say, allowing you to nestle her into the curl of his strong arm. “Cup her head with your other hand. Like that. Good. See? You’re perfect.”

He’s holding her like she’s some sort of rare, expensive bike part that took a year of his life to track down, but his shoulders slowly untighten as he starts to rock her back and forth like the natural you suspected he would be. When she opens her doe eyes to stare up at him, Benny’s brow pinches and tears start falling down your cheeks because his eyes have turned glassy and you’ve never before witnessed the sight. It’s unlikely anyone has.

“So?” you ask. “What do you think?”

Benny nods. “You did so good, baby,” he says, glancing up at you with a grin. He’s quick to return his gaze to his daughter. “You made us a beauty.”

You sniffle. “You contributed to that as well.”

“Yea, but she looks like you.”

It’s possible as she ages that she’ll develop a feature of yours here and there, but when you look at your daughter now, all you see is him. His nose, his eyes, his lips. She’s him, and you’d tell him so, but you’re not sure your words would break through the trance the baby has him in. 

—

When you wake, he’s not beside you. The sun is long from rising, and yet there’s no warmth, no lingering scent of his cologne, and when you flip over, the comforter remains smoothly spread out on his side. 

You kick the covering off your legs and stand, snatching your silk robe off the closet's doorknob to slip over its matching nightie. You know where he is. It’s where he’s spent many of his nights in the past three weeks. 

In the corner of the nursery, perched in the quilted chair, Benny is hunched forward with his elbows resting on his knees, his fingers woven and clenched as he stares at the crib where your daughter lies fast asleep under the low glow of her nightlight.

“Benny…” you start, making your way to him. His stare doesn’t break from the baby as he leans back against the cushion and spreads his legs so you can take your place on his lap. An arm slides across your lower back, a palm plants on your bare thigh, and you cuddle into his chest.

“You didn’t come to bed,” you say.

Benny hums in acknowledgment.

“You’ve got to be at the shop in four hours.” To that, he doesn’t even utter a sound. 

It’s not until you say, “Are you ready to tell me what's been going on in that head of yours?” that you get a response. 

He exhales heavily, then says, “What if I’m not good enough for her?” 

The question doesn’t surprise you. You assumed it was something along those lines, simply from observing his behaviors since you came home from the hospital. 

Benny’s smile rivals the sun whenever he takes his daughter in his arms, but the longer he looks at her, the more he thinks, and the more he thinks, the further that smile falls. He cradles his baby and his mind runs away with him. He peers too far into the future, digging up every possible problem and road bump ahead. Problems and road bumps—some of which you have no doubt are outlandish—that may never come to fruition. 

Your fingers weave into the blond tips at the nape of his neck and you delicately scrape the base of his skull with your nails. 

“That’s crazy. You’re amazing with her,” you tell him.

“She’s only three weeks old,” Benny argues. “There’s plenty of time to fuck it up.” 

“Ben–”

You’re cut off by the intensity with which his eyes drill into yours. A raw realness of concern swirls in blue irises. “What if she needs things that I can't afford to get her?”

Your brow raises. “Like what?”

“Anything,” he tells you. “What if she resents me for not havin’ better to offer? Her friends’ pops will have better jobs than me—more money in their pockets. We don’t even have a car to take her places; we’ve been borrowin’ Betty’s, for fuck’s sake. And this neighborhood? Baby, this street isn’t as safe as it used to be.”

You sigh. He’s right. You hate to admit it because you hoped he was worried over sillier matters, but every bit of what he said is fair. Your daughter will have friends whose fathers have established careers and the salaries to match. There will be lawyers and doctors and financiers living in areas that, while vastly nicer, still feed into the same schools your child will attend. You will need a car, ideally within the next few months because Benny can’t be riding to daycare with the baby clipped into the side satchel on the seat of his bike. And yes, the neighborhood has undeniably taken a turn in the past year. You should start planning your lives on a budget so you can get a small place outside the city. 

But the difference between you and Benny is that you know all of this is attainable. You know the two of you can do this. You know you’re both good enough and smart enough and resourceful enough to raise your baby. 

Benny removes his palm from your thigh and rubs his fingers across his forehead. You put your hands on his cheeks to turn his face back to yours. 

“Benny Cross, you are not going to fuck up. Our daughter is not going to resent you,” you say with absolute certainty, adding extra force to your tone. “She needs you and she needs me, and that's it. Everything else we will figure out in time.”

—

Three Years Later

You love to watch them. You love to watch how they exist together. You love how Benny tucks her into bed at night; how he wakes her extra early on Saturdays to make pancakes—one of the few meals he managed to master; how she stares up at him with a trembling bottom lip until he reluctantly agrees to play dollies with her; and how eager she is to take interest in anything and everything he has to show her. 

In the beginning, it wiggled your nerves to see her so curious about bikes—what mother wants to imagine her daughter on the back of a motorcycle—but she is her father’s daughter. Trying to shield her from her interests would only make her want to pursue them more, whether you agreed to it or not, so you took a step back and let it happen, knowing Benny would approach it appropriately. 

Now, it’s another one of those moments between them that you love to watch—this time watching without their knowledge as you peek through the sliver of space in the barely open door that connects the kitchen to the garage. 

The garage door is up to permit some natural lighting, and Benny, ratchet in hand, sits on a section of concrete that is shaded from the prying heat of Summer’s sun. He’s messing with the body of his bike as Lucy stands to his side; close, but not so close that she could be harmed should he accidentally lose his grip on a tool. 

“Ok,” he says, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He offers Lucy the ratchet and says, “Wrench please.”

Lucy carefully takes the tool by the handle—just as Benny taught her—before looking into the open box at her feet. Her head tilts as she examines its contents, and then she leans down, places the ratchet back where it belongs, and wraps her little fingers around the wrench. Pulling it out, she waves it back and forth with great enthusiasm before presenting it to her father. 

Benny smiles and she places the tool in his open palm. “Good job, nugget,” he praises as he softly pinches her round cheek. She giggles. 

Lucy takes in Benny’s every movement, observing like a tiny apprentice would a master. She’s attentive and nods along with everything he says even though she has no idea what a lick of it means. She does so until Benny finishes the job and closes up the toolbox. 

The second both of his hands are free, Lucy vaults herself into her father’s arms with such vigor that she nearly knocks him onto his back.

“Fixed it?” she asks, placing her hands on his shoulders and hoisting herself up so she’s at his eye level. 

“Fixed it,” Benny confirms with a nod, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

When you push the door open, their heads whip in your direction. Benny’s face splits to reveal a row of white teeth, and Lucy’s eyes—the same shade as Benny’s—light up, sparkling so stunningly that you almost don’t want to let the next words out of your mouth. 

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” you say, “but it’s nap time Lady Lu.”

Lucy gasps and looks at Benny to verify that he’s just as shocked. To her great enjoyment, he plays the part. 

“Momma’s got us on a schedule,” he tells her.

Her face scrunches in distaste. “Yucky!”

“Yucky?” Your eyebrows shoot up your forehead in mock offense. “Sounds like Daddy is teaching you to rebel against authority,” you say, crossing your arms as you give your husband a pointed look, “which I would really prefer he hold off on for a few years.”

Benny’s faux shock fades to a chuckle. “Alright,” he concedes, setting Lucy on her feet so he can stand. “Momma’s right, nugget.”

He winks at you and you grin as you reach toward him, grabbing his face to draw him in for a quick, thankful kiss. Just as he’s about to go in for a second peck, Lucy tugs on his hand to redirect his attention where she wants it: on her distress. 

“But–But you guys don’t have nap time!”

“Oh sure we do,” Benny says as he lifts her into his arms and settles her on his hip. “We nap when you nap.”

She glances at you, and when you nod she mutters an unconfident “Oh.” 

Not wanting to insult her feelings, you suck in your laugh. Your daughter despises the thought of missing out on any fun and has decided that it must be when she naps that her parents go wild. Little does she know that you take any opportunity to rest, and if Benny is home, so does he. 

It’s been a hardworking three years. Exhausting. Taxing to a degree that your bodies still haven’t fully recovered. Benny spent the majority of his waking hours at the shop while Kathy and Betty offered to watch Lucy so you could get a job as an office assistant; painfully dull work, but not an opportunity you took for granted considering you had no training in the area before you were hired. You both worked as often as you could for as many hours as your employers would allow, so much so that Benny would hold you through the tears you shed worrying if it was subconsciously affecting Lucy. You didn’t want her to know her parents for their absence, but at the end of the day, it was all for her, so you pressed on. 

You and Benny found peace and relaxation in the simple things—late-night rides; bonfires with the club; Saturday morning cartoons with Lu—but the rest of the time you were wearing yourselves out, and not always in the pleasurable way. 

But it was worth it. Every headache from lack of sleep, every aching joint from your constant desk sitting and Benny’s physical labor, every emotional outburst that the two of you would coax one another out of—worth it. 

Six months in, you got that car you needed. By a year, Benny had bought into the shop for fifty percent. And at the end of two years, you found a house just outside the city—a modest three-bedroom with a yard and a garage.

“Are you sleepy now?” Lucy asks, her voice already beginning to lose the oomph of its energy.

You softly snicker. Your daughter always hits her marks. Like clockwork, about two minutes post-nap-time announcement, regardless of whether or not she fights you on it, her eyelids struggle to open after each blink and her words leave her mouth at a more sluggish pace. 

“Very,” you nod again. “But we certainly won't nap if you won't. We wouldn’t want to miss out on any fun with you.” The tip of your index finger taps her tiny nose. 

“N-No, I'll do it,” she says, “if you guys are tired too.”

“We are, nugget,” Benny tells her. “So let's get you to bed, sound good?”

She’s fading fast but she uses some of that remaining energy to give a little grin before laying her head on her father’s shoulder and releasing a yawn. “Yea, Daddy.”

—

“Well, that took all of fifteen seconds,” you say as Benny gently closes Lucy’s bedroom door behind him. 

You start heading for your room with your husband trailing after you, but then there’s a tight grip on your waist and you’re spun to face in the opposite direction. Fumbling your steps, your chest bumps against Benny’s before he bends down, wraps a thick arm around your thighs, and tosses you over his shoulder. 

When you yelp, you’re punished with a swat on the ass. “Hush, baby. You wake Lu and we don’t get our nap, and after workin’ on the bike all mornin’, I could really use one.”

He carries you to your bedroom, sets you on the edge of the bed, and throws himself onto his back atop the mattress. Then, arms spread wide, smirk across his face, he says, “C’mere,” and you crawl into your usual space against his body. After a synced sigh, Benny crooks his knuckle under your chin and tips your head back so he can seal his lips to yours. 

You’ll never tire of this. Of him. The feel of him around you. The taste of him. The scent of cologne and motor oil. The way he nips at your bottom lip to pull a muffled squeak from your throat and how he smiles into the kiss at his achievement. It’s too damn good and nothing could match it. 

Knowing how your future would have evolved if Benny hadn’t returned after learning of your pregnancy is impossible. Maybe you would have found happiness if you had moved on and met another man, but you wholeheartedly believe that that man, whoever he might have been, wouldn’t have had the capacity to be what you need. When Benny stepped into your world, he took the mold—your ideal image of the love of your life—and stretched it out to fit him perfectly, and then he immediately broke it so no man could so much as attempt to take his place. And it worked. There was never going to be anyone else for you. At least, not anyone who could give you what you have now. 

As Benny’s fingertips graze over your cheek and bury into your hair, he shifts his weight, rolling you onto your back. Lips press harder into yours and then they disappear. Your eyes snap open, a pout rapidly forming that he quickly kisses away. 

“Wanna talk to you about somethin’,” Benny says lowly, whisper-like as his nose nudges yours. You do your best to straighten out your thoughts and pay attention, but it’s made difficult by the comforting weight of his body bleeding into yours and his thumb brushing back and forth along your cheekbone. “You know, Johnny and Betty said they’d watch Lu tonight if we want.”

With narrowing eyes, you reply “Yes,” drawing out the word, wondering where he’s going with this and why it has to interrupt the kissing.

“If you wanna take ‘em up on that, I was thinkin’ we could go for a ride, and then—” he shrugs the shoulder not supporting his weight above you, “I don’t know, maybe we come home and make another kid.”

Your eyes shift from mildly irritated slits to round saucers. “What?”

“Yea,” he says. “Thought it might be nice.” 

“Seriously?” 

“I mean, if you’re willin’ to birth another one, I’d be happy to put one in you.”

A laugh bubbles from your chest. “Would you now?”

Benny nods, planting a kiss on your mouth. That kiss moves to your cheek, then his lips ghost along your jawline before landing on the sensitive spot just under your ear. “You just gotta say yes, baby,” he says, warm breath heating your skin, “and nine months from tonight, we could have our second one.”

Your fingers glide through his hair, fisting the strands as you angle your head to give him better access to your neck. He licks and sucks until you moan, and then you say, “You’re that confident you can get me pregnant on the first shot?”

Benny pulls his head back to look at you. “Course I am. When I did it last time, I wasn’t even tryin’,” he says, cocky grin in place. But then his features soften. “So? What do you think?”

Your lips quirk to the side and you hum. “Alright, Benny Cross,” you say. “Let’s make another baby.”

---

A/N: I keep writing scenes with mothers eavesdropping on father/child bonding moments 🫣

Taglist (if you wanna join)

[kasagia]

imgonnagetyouback

Pairing: Benny Cross x fem!ex-girlfiriend! reader Summary: After your rather stormy breakup, Benny decides he can't live without you. He'll get you back. At any cost. Even if he has to force you over his motorcycle and take you far out of town. Taglist for Benny: @aleemendoza2425-blog Benny Cross' Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist P.S. I accept requests for Benny if you want to read sth specific with our boy 😊

Even if it's handcuffed I'm leaving here with you Bygones will be bygone eras Fading into gray We broke all the pieces, but still want to play the game I told my friends I hate you but I love you just the same Pick your poison, babe I'm poison either way... Whether I'm gonna be your wife or Gonna smash up your bike I haven't decided yet But I'm gonna get you back - "imgonnagetyouback" Taylor Swift

“What the hell is he doing here?” You ask angrily, looking out your office window as you see your ex’s Harley parked next to your car.

"Maybe he forgot something from you. Did you give him all his stuff back?" Your friend asks, putting the papers into a folder.

"No. I gathered all four of his shirts and two pairs of pants and made myself a campfire behind the house." You huff angrily, closing the blinds so you wouldn't have to watch the blue-eyed Vandal leaning against your car.

"So what does he want? From what you've told me, your relationship ended in a hell of a bad way, and he was a world-class asshole." You tremble at the mere memory of your breakup with Benny.

You and he met at one of the Vandals' bar. You happened to go there for a drink with your girls; he noticed you and started talking with you. He was flirting with you the whole night and tried to take you with him for a ride on his bike. The first time you turned him down. Then he tracked down where you lived and showed up at your door, offering a ride to your work.

You should have seen a red flag then. But you were too stupid and infatuated by him enough to think it was romantic.

As time went on, he took you to Vandals meetings more and more often. And it was fun. Until you had to bail him out of arrest, pick him up from the hospital, and wait forever for him at home, wondering if he'd be sleeping next to you in bed or at the police station.

And one day, when he ended up in the hospital after some guys beat him up for wearing Vandal's colours, you broke. You begged him to stop while he was still alive and well (which was doubtful considering the doctors were still debating whether to cut off his foot); you literally knelt by his bed and cried like a baby while all he cared about was whether he could keep riding.

But that wasn't the worst. The worst was that every time you argued, he threatened to leave, to disappear, that it would be best for you if he left you alone. And at first you begged him, terrified, to stay, but over time you started to react to those words... more aggressively.

Then you decided you were fed up with living with the wandering cat he was and broke up with him. Roughly. Stormily. Your neighbours heard more than one of your arguments, and the whole street saw you throwing his stuff out the window and finally throwing rocks at him as he rode away on his beloved Harley. On second thought, maybe you were both two big damn red carpets.

"I don't want to know. Will you take me home? The last thing I want today is to meet that son of a bitch."

You sigh, dragging the papers to your desk. You grab your black blazer and throw it on over your white shirt. You adjust your black pencil skirt and grab your purse to follow your friend.

You took the job as a secretary right after breaking up with Benny. You quit your old job not wanting him to know where you worked, but apparently Vandal had his ways. You wonder if choosing another job wasn't a slap in the face for Benny. Choosing such a boring and ordinary job would piss him off even more and prove that you really aren't made for each other.

Just like Benny, you could be hellishly mean.

"What the hell?" Your friend asks as you exit out the back and her car isn't in the parking lot. But there is another Vandal with his motorcycle.

"Johnny." You greet him and walk over to him, crossing your arms. Your friend is hot on your heels. "What are you doing here?"

"Kiddo said you two have a problem in your relationship."

"We don't have any relationship, so there is no problem between us. But apparently, my friend lost her car. Can you help her?" You ask him, furious with Benny for not acknowledging your breakup.

"Y/N... you know that I don't like to get involved in the shit that's not mine, but this kid has been going crazy for a month now. He's been doing even worse shitty things than before, and I can't tell you how many times we've picked him up from jail in the past few fucking weeks. If you ever cared about him, talk to him. He's becoming wildly unpredictable. Even for me."

You bite your lip at his words. You know perfectly well what Benny is like, or rather what he was like before he met you. Thanks to you, he stopped riding so fast and carefree, ended up in the hospital much less often, and even obeyed the speed limit when you were with him on his bike.

You can only imagine what he's been up to in your absence and to what extent, since Johnny took an interest and came to you to talk about it.

"Don't manipulate me, Johnny. You know damn well he deserved it. Now you know what I had to deal with throughout this whole fucking relationship." You reply dryly, not wanting to fall for the Vandals' sweet words again.

You loved them like family, but sometimes you have to cut yourself off from them to save your sanity. And you desperately needed some time to yourself and a break from all of Benny's antics.

"Well... I know Benny isn't easy, but he really is a good kid. Carrot and stick. That's what he needs. And for the sake of your lady-buddy's car and your friendship... maybe you should go and have a few words with him."

"Screw you." You growl, rolling your eyes, and walk away from them. "What are you waiting for?! Take her to this fucking car!" You shout, walking back to the main building to exit through the main entrance.

Johnny puts your friend on his bike, and all you can do is give her an apologetic look as he takes her to where they moved her car. You don't even want to know how they did it.

You sigh as you walk through the office and stand in front of the main exit doors. You glance at your watch and walk out of the building with your heart in your mouth.

You walk down the sidewalk with the other people from work who have just left. Benny's blue irises land on you immediately. He straightens up, stopping leaning against your car and throwing away a cigarette he was smoking. He looks at you expectantly. You nod at him and pretend to walk in his direction.

You cross the street on the crosswalk, but instead of turning right towards the parking lot, you run as hard as you can to the left towards the bus stop.

"Y/N!" Benny shouts after you, and a moment later, you hear the thud of his combat boots against the pavement as he runs after you.

The bus pulls up to the stop, and you run inside. Luckily, the driver closes the doors before Benny can get to them. He bangs on the glass, shouting your name and some curse words, but you can't hear him clearly as the bus starts moving.

You breathe a sigh of relief and wipe your sweaty forehead. This time you did it. You just hoped your friend would get her car back before Benny went to Johnny and complained to him that you ran away.

But for now, you're happy that you managed to outsmart your ex.

The next morning you cautiously peer out from behind your front door, searching for a head of blonde hair. Even though you couldn't see any Vandal's motorcycle through the window, you wanted to be sure that none would suddenly pop out from nowhere.

You sigh with relief, not seeing anything suspicious.

You open the door wider, but something is blocking you. On your way out, you notice a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers. You pick it up and examine it carefully, but you don't see any note or card. But you do see a necklace.

The flowers are tied with a fucking necklace. The necklace Benny gave you at the beginning of your relationship with his initials carved into the back of the silver heart. (One of the guys worked at a jeweler's and did it for him for practically free through a connection or something.) The necklace you threw in his face when you broke up with him.

Furious, you want to throw the flowers in the trash. Instead, you decide to put the necklace in your pocket and walk to work. On the way, you pass a school and hand the bouquet to the first girl you see. At least she was happy because of those damn flowers.

As you continue your walk, you see a motorcyclist in the distance. You tense up and quicken your pace, praying that it's not a Vandal, but apparently you're out of luck today.

"Y/N?! How long have we not seen each other?!" Danny screams as he rides to you. You sigh as his bike blocks the entire sidewalk and force a smile.

"Probably ages ago. How you doing?"

"Great. Can I give you a ride somewhere? Where's Benny? Shouldn't he be the one hauling your ass to work?" He asks, already taking out a helmet for you. You reluctantly accept it and climb behind him on the bike.

"We broke up." You inform him, knowing full well that he's been away from the Vandals lately due to studies and his photography stuff.

"Oh shit. He must be devastated then." He comments and starts the engine. You hold on to him as he drives you to the address you gave him.

The drive takes a few minutes. Luckily, your car is still parked outside the building, and you don't see any parked bikes.

"Thanks. Danny? Can you give this to Benny? You probably will see him sooner than me." You say and hand him the necklace. He nods and drives away, leaving you alone.

You approach your car and curse, seeing the lock placed on the wheel. Not a police lock. A lock that the Vandals often put on and took off in exchange for small money. A small tag was attached to it. It had the date and time written on it—probably their next meeting that they wanted you to join in exchange for taking the damn thing off your car.

"Bad day?"

You flinch and turn around, surprised by someone's presence. You sigh with relief when you see only Mike—an accountant from the company you worked for.

"Bad week. Plus, it looks like I'm grounded." You say and kick your leg against the wheel of your car.

"Yeah, I recognise that. My friend had to pay them like $100 to get that damn thing off. He was rushing to some meeting and couldn't wait for the police and similar stuff. I can get someone to take it off for you."

"I'm afraid I don't have enough money." You sigh, mentally preparing yourself for a weekend with the Vandals. In Benny's company. Talking to him. You already feel sick.

"For free. Friend of mine owns me a little favour."

"Seriously?" You ask, shocked. He nervously rubs the back of his neck with his hands and nods, giving you an uncertain smile.

"Yeah, no problem. And before he will do it... do you mind if we both go to lunch? I mean... you don't have to if you don't want to..."

"You know... I would actually like that." You interrupt him with a smirk, seeing him stuttering, unable to finish his sentence as he blushes.

"Really?" You almost giggle at his incredulous question and the gleam of happiness in his eyes. You nod with a huge, genuine smile, practically forgetting why you agreed to this date in the first place. "So... in four hours at the exit?"

"I will be waiting." With a smile, you leave him behind and enter the office. Maybe this day wasn't such a tragedy after all...

Benny was drinking beer with Johnny and Danny at a table in their favourite bar. The Vandals were circling him like vultures, just waiting for a little sensation and gossiping about his breakup with you.

"It must be hard for you, man. We all saw how much you loved her. Like a Catholic loves a goddamn God."

"Too bad she can't see it." Benny mumbles, lighting a cigarette. His one hand plays with the necklace he left on your doorstep this morning, which you gave to Denny. Benny gave you his fucking heart, and you still rejected it. He had to try harder. He had to talk to you first.

"Hey Benny-boy? How are you? Are you still getting over your breakup with your girlfriend? Do you love her that much? Come on, come with us. We'll race to the brothel, and you'll forget about this bitch in a second." Some Vandal walks up to him and pats him on the back.

"Benny no..." Johnny is interrupted by the crash of Vandal's jaw as Benny's fist hits him.

A second later, a beer bottle shatters over the head of a bleeding man on the floor, and Johnny and Danny try to pull him away from the guy. The entire club boos and cheers for the fight, but the guys quickly drag Benny outside.

"What the hell?! You can love her, but damn, don't be such a girl and react at each shitty comment!" Johnny yells at him and hits him in the chest with his hands. Benny huffs indignantly and puts his hands in his pockets to stop himself from hitting him.

"I hate her!" He growls furiously and plays with the necklace in his pants' pocket.

"And love her just the same, huh?" Danny asks and gives Benny a cigarette.

Benny doesn't answer. He smokes furiously, trying to clear his head, but all he can think about is you. Your scent, your taste, the softness of your body, the shudder of your breath beneath him, the way you clenched your hands around his shirt across his stomach when you rode with him on his bike, the way you pressed yourself against him and snuggled up to him every chance you got... fuck, he missed you. More than he previously thought he would be.

"Benny?! I saw your girl with some man in a suit! At that one of those Italian restaurants on the corner of Main Street. You know, the shitty one for rich people. You should do something about this." One of the bikers rides up and informs him, then rides away before Benny can say anything.

"Kid, don't…" Johnny tries to stop him, but Benny is already on his motorcycle. He starts it and rides as fast as he can, ignoring the shouts behind him.

All Benny could think about was how he was going to beat up the guy who dared to touch you. You were his girlfriend. You were one of the Vandals. You might have been on a break, but that didn't give any man the right to hit on you. Not when you had Benny and Benny had you.

It was simple logic. Nobody messes with the Vandals and their girls.

Benny sped through the city, not stopping at red lights. It wasn't until he was at a restaurant that he stopped his Harley.

He didn't turn off the engine, though. He was staring intently through the restaurant windows and checking out each customer until his eyes landed on you and some shit in a suit who had the nerve to get your attention.

Benny tugged on the handle, causing his bike's engine to roar furiously—like a guard dog giving a warning before it attacks. He increased the engine's roar until your eyes met his.

A cold shiver ran through him as you threw him one of your angry looks, and he felt hurt when you ignored him and continued to talk with the man sitting in front of you and gave him one of your most wonderful smiles. Fuck it. The guy wouldn't be able to walk when Benny got to him.

Benny reaches into his pocket, pulls out a pack of Marlboro, and lights his cigarette. He holds it to his mouth with one hand while the other continues to crank the handle of the engine, so that the roar of the engine drowns out any conversation you might have had with the man in front of you.

He smirks as you and the guy in front of you stare in his direction. He holds a cigarette between his plush lips and waves at you, causing an irritated frown to form on your forehead.

Benny can't help but feel a strange bile rising in his throat as he looks at the two of you. You were on a date with a guy who was clearly the opposite of Benny. He wonders if this is what you really want—a boring guy with a boring job and a tonne of money who could build you a house with a fucking white picket fence and drive you to work in his Cooper car and the kids to preschool. It makes him sick to think that you could be anyone else, that you could have anyone else's children, that you could be married to some guy in a suit and live the life of a fucking decent 1950s shitty family.

Benny knew perfectly well that he couldn't give you what this guy could provide you. He couldn't even afford a date at a restaurant like that.

However, it didn't change the fact that he loved you so damn much.

"Hey! Biker dude, leave Y/N alone!" A guy in a suit comes out of the restaurant and yells at him. Benny calmly finishes his cigarette and throws it on the ground, staring silently at the man in front of him. "Did you hear me, degenerate? Get out of here!" The guy pushes him, hitting his chest. For Benny, that's enough.

He lands the first punch with his right fist, landing perfectly on his opponent's cheek. The next punch sends blood pouring from the man's nose onto his snow-white shirt. But for Benny, it's not enough.

He throws the guy to the ground, and the two begin to fight in earnest. Benny, however, has a much greater advantage and motivation as he takes out all his anger on the guy below him. He only snaps out of this strange trance when someone's hands pull him away from the bleeding man below him.

"What the fuck was that, Benny?! You almost killed him!" You yell at him angrily, pulling your hands away from him as quickly as you can. Benny says nothing, staring at you silently as he processes what he just did. Several other motorcycles pull up in front of the restaurant, with Johnny in the lead.

"Let's go, kid! Before the police arrive."

Benny stares at you, not quite wanting to leave before he explains why he beat up your date. But he stops himself the moment he sees the fear and disgust in your eyes. It hurts Benny more than any punch he could have taken. He clenches his jaw and walks to his bike. He starts the engine and gives you one last long look, then lowers his head in shame as he joins the other Vandals.

Your hair flutters in the wind as you watch the Vandals drive away. You run over to Mike and wait with him until the ambulance arrives. But you don't follow him to the hospital. You have more important things to take care of in the city.

With trembling hands, you knock on the door. You wait patiently outside, considering the pros and cons, but before you can chicken out and leave, Betty opens the door for you.

"Y/N? This is quite a surprise."

"Can I come in? I need to talk to you." The woman makes room for you and lets you in. You greet her and Johnny's daughters, who are watching a cartoon on TV, and you go with her to the kitchen, where you can talk in peace. "It's about Benny."

"I expected it. You know, we were all very surprised when you broke up. We were convinced that a week longer and the boy would start looking for an engagement ring for you."

"Benny and marriage? Not in this lifetime, I guess." You scoff and sit down at the small kitchen island with a smile, thanking her for the coffee she made you. "He fucking almost beat my date to death today. He's acting crazy. Johnny tells me he's been like this since I broke up with him, but we both know he was like this long before we even met. What the hell am I supposed to do, Betty? Get out of town? Out of America? Vandals have expanded all over the states, and most of them aren't the same old club they used to be."

"I know. Believe me, I know best." Silence falls between you after her words. You nod, understanding perfectly that she of you had the most right to worry. You sigh, running your hand through your hair. "Y/N... I'll give you some advice. If you don't care about him that much... if you think you can forget and move on, then save yourself. Run away wherever you want, as far away from him as possible, and forget. But if you can't... then stay and talk some sense into him before it's too late to save him."

"Save him? You know perfectly well he won't abandon the Vandals."

"Like you said, they're not the same Vandals they used to be. They've changed. Johnny sees it. Benny sees it. And they both still fool themselves, but when some shit happens, it finally gets to them. And believe me, Benny loves his bike and freedom, but the Vandals aren't his family anymore. You are." You fall silent at her words, processing everything she said. You nod and sigh, taking a cigarette out of the pack in your pocket. "We smoke outside." She admonishes you. You laugh quietly and raise your hands in surrender.

"All right. Thanks for everything, Betty." You sigh as you leave the house. You light a cigarette and walk across town to the Vandals' bar. You have to finish everything you had to finish with Benny. You couldn't just leave town without a word. There's no telling what the Vandal would do if you suddenly disappeared.

You throw your cigarette into the bin and take a few calming breaths as you approach the biker's bar. Their engines are already roaring, and some of them, probably the young and new ones, eye you warily as you enter.

You look around the bar and frown, unable to find Benny. You walk further in, pushing through the sea of people and sitting at the head table where Johnny sits with his most important men.

"Hello there. Where is Benny?" You ask them, taking the beer from Johnny. The man raises an eyebrow at you and watches as you take a sip.

"I thought you didn't want to talk to him?"

"I have to. I'm leaving town soon. I'd rather tell that to that ticking bomb." Johnny nods, fully realising what you mean. You see Cockroach get up from the table and go to the phone. You try to listen in on the conversation, but Johnny effectively talks you over and drowns out any conversation the man was having at the bar.

"When are you coming back?" He asks, but you don't answer. You take a sip of beer and tap your finger on the neck of the bottle. "I see. The kid won't be happy, you know that?"

"We are no longer together." You snap back, trying your best to maintain your relatively indifferent attitude. "Besides, after the shit he did today, he only proved that I can't stay here anymore."

"He went for a ride. He'll probably be at the lake. Or on the streets breaking a few traffic laws. You know him."

"Too well." You nod and stand up from the table. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Cockroach exit the bar and get on his bike. You frown and shake your head. They're not your problem anymore. "Tell him I'm looking for him. When you will see him."

"Sure." He agrees and nods. You nod back and turn to leave the bar. You scan the place one last time, knowing full well that you'll probably never set foot in it again.

Your heart clenches as you remember all the times you spent here. Both the good and the bad. Shortly after you broke up with Benny, you cursed this building. You'd rather see it burn down, along with all the Vandals that reminded you of what you'd lost.

You try to hold back the tears that are welling up in your eyes as you involuntarily recall your first meeting with Benny. The pool table is still in the same spot. How easy it would have been for you not to have looked that damned way and not fallen for the charm of those blue irises and the exposed muscles of his arms. How much disappointment and heartbreak you would have avoided if you had never entered that bar. And as much as you despised and hated that place, you loved it and the people in it for a long time and fiercely. And one of them in particular.

But how much more tragedy and sadness could you endure? How long could you live in fear and uncertainty in a relationship that was supposed to bring you only happiness and those good thrills?

Benny wanted to be free. So you will give him that freedom.

"Y/N!" Johnny calls after you before you leave. You sigh and turn to him, raising a questioning eyebrow. "Take care of yourself."

"You too." You nod at him and leave the bar.

You leave everything behind. And you feel like a piece of you is dying in the flames of time and the cry of your tormented heart..

Surprisingly, it doesn't take you long to pack. Nor does it take you long to get off work. Two days later, you're standing in the hallway of your house, ready to hand over the keys to your cousin, who's supposed to be selling it.

You stare at the picture Danny took of you and Benny when you were sitting at one of the biker picnics. Benny and you were leaning against his bike. He had his arm over your shoulder and was staring at you with loving puppy eyes while you smiled at the camera.

You sigh, putting the photo into your wallet and impatiently waiting for your cousin.

Just then, there's a knock on your door. You sigh and open it. You freeze, completely shocked, when you see Benny there.

"I didn't hear your bike."

"I parked down the street. So you don't get scared and run away." He says, still leaning against your door frame.

"I'm not scared of you." You huff indignantly, looking at the scratches on his face. You frown, not remembering him getting any injuries from Mike.

"I had an accident."

"Of course you had." You snort, crossing your arms over your chest. You see his jaw quiver slightly, but he just continues to stare at you with those stupid blue eyes of his, like you're the only girl in the world. "I'm leaving." You inform him, swallowing hard and waiting for his reaction. He drops his gaze to your hands and nods.

"I can see that." He says, nodding at the large travel backpack behind you.

"I won't come back." You inform him, carefully observing his reaction to it. Of course, he doesn't show anything. His face is stony as he looks at you, and his facial muscles don't even move as he doesn't reveal a single emotion to you.

"You won't come back." He repeats, not moving an inch from his spot by your door. You clench your teeth in irritation, to which he just smiles. And oh, that damn smile of his...

"That's it. You can go. You always said you'd be the one to leave. Too bad I had to be the one with the balls to do it." You say angrily, ready for him to turn around and walk to his bike, but all he does is continue to stare at you. You shake your head and push past him when you see your cousin.

You ignore Benny as you sort out the details with your cousin. You grab your backpack and walk him back to his car. You say goodbye to him and watch the car drive away. As you turn to go to the bus stop, you bump into Benny's chest.

"Sorry. I didn't see you." You say, quickly pulling away from him and trying to suppress your blush after your hands were briefly on his chest. The damn thing still had some well-trained muscles.

"Give you a lift?" He asks you seemingly innocently and puts his hands in his pockets. His gaze burns you, making your blush stay on your cheeks a little longer.

"Where are you going?" You ask as you both walk in the same direction. You don't feel like going with him, but you're not going to tell him that yet. You know he'll think of anything to make you get on that fucking bike with him.

"Florida." At those words, you freeze and stand still. You swallow and look at him for a long moment as you remember how you once begged him to go to his cousin in Florida and start a new life there. Then he chose his bike. And you chose yourself.

"To your cousin?" You ask carefully, resuming your walk.

"He hired me at his car workshop." Benny nods, walking glued to your side with his hands clasped behind him.

You feel strangely at ease talking to him. You're out of the habit of it. Of having him so close to you, of feeling the warmth of his body close to yours, of his intoxicating scent, of having his hypnotising irises focused on you and of listening to that raspy voice of his.

You missed him.

"You will have a job?" You ask, shocked. You can't imagine a free spirit like Benny finding a permanent job with set hours. "Well... that's good for you. I guess." You comment as you both walk. Suddenly he steps in front of you and stops. You sigh when you see his bike parked exactly two steps away from you. Fuck, you let that son of a bitch lead you to his bike.

"Are you getting in?" He asks, nodding at his bike. And as much as you want to say yes, you know it'll be bad for both you and him.

You shouldn't be together. Or at least you didn't think so. Even though you loved him so damn much.

"I will buy a train ticket." You politely decline his offer. You expect him to nod silently, get on your bike, and ride off into the sunset forever, but he still stands firmly in front of you, blocking your path.

"Where to?" He asks and looks at you suspiciously, as if he knew perfectly well that you didn't know where you were going yet. You only knew that it was definitely far from Benny.

"You don't need to know." You growl stubbornly, trying to get past him and finally move on.

But Benny won't let you. Before you can register any movement, he moves quickly and takes your hands. He wraps them tightly around his waist, and suddenly you hear a metallic click and something cold and heavy being placed on your forearms. Handcuffs. Bloody handcuffs.

"Benny!!" You growl at him angrily and struggle as he walks towards his bike. "Where the hell did you get handcuffs from?"

"Cockroach." He answers shortly and sits down, making you have to follow his lead. He fucking kidnaps you.

"Benny... let me go!" You scream, trying to punch him in the stomach, but the handcuffs are so short and far enough away from your wrists that all you can do is hold on tight as he prepares to ride.

"Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you." He tells you calmly, and you stare at him in disbelief. What the fuck?

"Don't joke! Benny!" Either he ignores your screams (which is most likely) or he doesn't hear them because at that very moment he starts the engine of his Harley.

So all you can do is sit behind him, holding on tight as he drives who knows where. Amazingly, he stops at red lights and doesn't go over the speed limit. It's only when he gets to the highway that he drives a little faster than the speed limit, but not enough to be considered dangerous driving.

You rest your cheek against his back in defeat as you realise there is absolutely no way out of this. Not if you want to stay alive. You can feel him relax a little as he rides forward, and you are not trying to fight with him. You sigh, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to rest behind him for a moment, revelling in the feeling of freedom as you whizzed through the air on his bike.

Fuck, you missed it.

The only break you get is a stop at a motel when the fuel runs out and the cold night starts to set in. Benny rents you a room (which is surprising because you were always the one paying) at the motel and leaves you there while he goes to fill up his Harley.

You think about escaping, but:

1. Benny took away the keys and locked you up there.

2. He made sure to rent a room on the highest floor of this damn building.

3. You were too tired and hungry after the ride to come up with some plan.

That's why you lay on the bed and wait for him to come back. Hopefully with food. It would be nice to eat something before you will kill him.

As if on cue, the keys turn in the door, and Benny steps inside. In his hand he has a large paper bag, which he places on the bed opposite you in an apologetic gesture of sacrifice for his sins. He can go to hell. Him and his damn puppy eyes.

"What is it?"

"Burgers. Took it for you. Your favourite." He says and makes sure he's locked the door. He puts the key in the keyhole and goes to the window.

He looks at his bike and takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He lights one and looks outside, not sparing you a single glance.

"Where's your jacket?" You ask, seeing as he's not wearing his Vandals' colours. It was weird seeing him in just a T-shirt.

"On a bike in the trunk. I don't know if they'd let me here wearing that."

"You never took it off." You say shocked and raise your eyebrows at him. "You will be cold without it." You notice and take the food out of the bag. You don't eat yet, wondering if you should leave him some, if he even ate anything before he came here.

"I was cold without you." He answers quickly without even thinking much about what he's saying. You see his cheeks redden slightly as he realises he said it out loud. "Eat." He clears his throat and takes a drag on his cigarette. You sigh and start eating. You hum, savouring the delicious food, and you swear you hear him chuckle quietly from his spot by the window. Big bastard.

"Where we going?" You ask him before biting into your burger. You frown as grease leaks onto your fingers. You lick them, unconsciously teasing Benny as he... imagines what your lips wrapped around just as perfectly as they now were wrapped around your fingers. He clears his throat, seeing that you’ve caught him staring at you.

"Florida. I want to show you something." You eat in silence, wondering what he wants to show you that makes him literally chain you to himself and drag you out of town.

"And then?" You can't stand it anymore and finally ask, curious about his future plans and how long he actually wants to keep you with him.

"And then you will decide."

"Decide what? Do I want the fur handcuffs or the regular metal ones?" You snap at him, irritated.

Your sharp mockery makes him throw his cigarette out the window, and his gaze lingers there, as if he were ashamed of what he had done. On the other hand, you didn't give him much of an exit or opportunity to talk normally. You wanted to leave—just like he had promised so many times that he would do. So why did he stubbornly want to keep you if he had never cared?

Benny wasn't one for words. He was sparing with his thoughts and emotions. And for a while, his actions spoke loud enough of his devotion to you. For a while. Then your honeymoon phase wore off, and you were annoyed that he never verbally confirmed to you what his eyes had told you so many times as he held you close by the fire at night at one of the Vandals meetings.

On this particular night, some famous actress that the guys were crazy about was coming to town. Half of them got on their bikes halfway through the party and wanted Benny to join them in hunting her down and taking a picture with her. They even bribed Danny to go with them and take their stupid pictures.

"Come on, Benny. You're not coming with us? I remember you were the one who hung her poster in the club so you could get a good view of her from the pool table." One of the guys was convincing Benny, who was currently lying on the grass and resting his head on your lap, practically forcing you to comb your hands through his blonde locks.

"I have a much better view here!" He shouts at them, not even turning his head in their direction. His blue eyes never leave your face. You blush a little, ducking your head and closing your eyes as you try to ignore the whistles and teasing from the boys at his response.

A moment later, Benny props himself up on his elbows and steals the most delightful, mind-numbing kiss. You cup his cheek in your hand and let yourself sink into the feeling of his soft lips against yours, letting out a quiet sigh when he tangles his hand in your hair and presses you against the trunk of the tree behind you. You ignore the cheering Vandals put on and completely immerse yourself in your little bubble with Benny.

Everyone had their poison. For Benny, it was cigarettes and his Harley. For you, it was him. And back then it didn't bother you one bit.

"I... if you want to go you can. I won't stop you." Benny mumbles under his breath, pulling you from your thoughts. You shake your head, snorting, and set the bag of food on the nightstand next to your bed.

"Thank you so much that you provide me with my basic human rights!" You growl at him angrily, reminding him about those stupid handcuffs.

"You didn't even want to give me a chance to explain myself to you. And you know perfectly well that I never ask for anything or expect anything in return. I... I didn't see any other way to get to you. And I'm not going to apologise for that."

You roll your eyes at him, irritated. But you can't say you don't see the reasoning behind his actions. But the prospect of being dragged around by him deeply offends your innate feminism.

Seeing that you have nothing to add to the matter, he closes the window. He walks over to you and grabs the blanket off the bed. You frown as he sits down in the armchair, clearly intending to sleep there. And you don't like the fact that even though you had him in the same room, you won't be able to have his arms wrapped around you. Especially since it's so damn cold in this motel.

"Come here. You will get sick by sitting near this window. It is cold outside, and they don't even heat the room." You grumble and make room for him on the bed, hoping that you don't have to tell him the real reason you want him next to you to get him in the same bed with you.

"I will be fine." He speaks carelessly and reaches into his pocket for another cigarette.

"Benjamin Cross." You growl at him, which finally gets his full attention. "Get your fucking ass here." Benny rolls his eyes but obediently stands up. He takes off his shoes and lies down next to you in bed.

He covers you with an extra blanket and leaves an absurd amount of space between you that you honestly hate. But you won't make the first move and throw yourself into his arms. Not after he kidnapped you. But... could it really be considered kidnapping if you partly wanted it and you didn't really have anywhere else to be?

You sigh, tossing and turning in your bed as you try to find a slightly comfortable sleeping position. But it's impossible to fall asleep with Benny so close to you when you are not even able to touch him. Especially when his warmth and scent reach you, assaulting you and every ounce of restraint and self-control you had.

"What's the matter with you?" Benny asks as you toss and turn in frustration once again.

"Nothing."

Benny knows that tone. All too well. So he hesitantly moves closer to you and experimentally places a hand on your waist. When you don't push away from him, he gently pulls you toward him and tightens his hold, pressing his chest against your back. You sigh and press your lips to his forearm, rubbing your nose against the tattooed skin.

Benny doesn't comment on that. That's something you like about him. That even when you do completely absurd things, he doesn't comment on it, doesn't deny it, just stands by you in silence. Just like now.

You take his hand in yours and squeeze it so hard that his rings dig into it. But you don't care. It's nice to finally have him this close.

Benny rests his chin on your shoulder and runs his nose against your temple. His beard gently tickles you, but you do nothing about it. It's been a long time since you've had this feeling of him close to you. You turn in his arms and snuggle into him.

Benny gently strokes your back with his hand, holding you close to him without a word as you revel in his scent. For a moment you forget why you should be mad at him and stay as far away from him as possible. So when his lips fall to your forehead and he presses a long kiss there, you grab his chin and steal the kiss from him.

His full, plump lips feel wonderful against yours and caress you nicely. You moan when you can finally taste his lips on yours again, and you remember how much you've missed this feeling. His hand roams over you, and you let him touch you wherever he wants. Benny, on the other hand, is confused. One moment you're yelling at him and you're angry, and the next you want him close to you and you kiss him like there's no tomorrow. It's a nice change. But Benny is afraid of how long it will last. Of how much longer will you want him? And will you want to leave again?

For now, he had you back in his arms. And he wanted to savour that feeling. And he will give you a goddamn reason to stay.

He cups your cheek in his hand and deepens the kiss. His tongue explores your mouth again, as if learning you all over again, before wrapping his tongue around yours. You sigh as his hand slides teasingly from your cheek, down your neck, over the valley of your breasts, and to the hem of your jeans.

"Benny..." You sigh as his cold fingers touch the skin of your stomach after he unbuttons your jeans TOO slowly.

"Do you want me to stop?" Benny almost chuckles at how fast and furious your head is shaking. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your bottom lip bitten in a desperate attempt to keep from making any sound as he gently brushes his fingers over your folds. The motel walls were thin after all. "Open your eyes for me, my little rascal, and say the words. After this, there will be no turning back."

You don't even think about turning back. You don't think about leaving him. You only think about how wonderful it is to have him by your side again, how wonderful his hands feel on you, and how much you want to kiss his stupid mouth until you both have enough breath. And that's exactly what you do.

With that form of agreement from you, his fingers gently delve into your folds, exploring previously familiar territory and teasing you unintentionally as he tries to appreciate every little second he has with you.

Sex with Benny was like that. Unique, intense, a long marathon. Because, as he said, you never know when it's the last time. Although you always prayed that it would never be the last time and that he and you will both live to experience another of your hot sessions.

For now, God listened to a sinner like you...

You almost scream as he digs his long fingers into you up to his knuckles. His rings rub against the entrance of your cunt, the even colder than his fingers metal is making you shiver. Benny kisses and nibbles your neck, leaving a trail of hickies from your lips to your collarbone.

His fingers slide in and out, pushing against that sweet spot inside you that makes you scream his name. His rings push through and enter your vagina, and you can see them glistening with your arousal. And it's fucking hot. As hot as Benny's hard manhood pressing against your thigh.

You dig your nails into his neck and moan into his ear as his thumbs is pressing your swollen clit, working with all his might to bring you to the edge of your orgasm.

You bite your lip, trying to muffle your moans and cries of pleasure so everyone in the motel doesn't hear you, but Benny won't have any of that. He kisses you hungrily and pulls his hand away from you completely. You gasp, lifting your hips and seeking his hand, but he doesn't resume his ministrations until a soft moan escapes your kiss-swollen lips.

"Such a good little desprate girl for me. You take my fingers so damn well now, wrapping your tight unused walls around them, and before when you were scandalously empty, you were a nasty little brat. I shouldn't reward you for running away from me, you know, my sweetest?" He mumbles in your ear with his hoarse voice, still refusing you the touch of his sinfully long fingers.

The tears in your eyes fall freely onto the pillow as you try to gather the last remnants of logical thought to somehow prove yourself to him, because you know you won't come if you just grind against him desperately in the hopes that he'll finally give you more.

"Please Benny… I… oh… I won't leave… I won't leave.."

You tangle your hand in his hair and tug on it, to which he lets out a soft growl from his plump lips. In punishment, he gently nips your collarbone, adding another hickey to the collection, as he thankfully pushes his fingers deep into your velvety wet and eager walls again and tries to bring you immense pleasure.

And it doesn't take him very long. A few thrusts of his fingers, kisses scattered across your neck, collarbone, and cleavage, and you're falling apart beneath him. Your brain is a useless mush as you come from the mere ministrations of his fingers and the dirty words he whispers in your ear. You're drunk on Benny, on the feel of his fingers inside you, his weight on you, and the burning marks his lips leave on your skin.

You lick your lips in anticipation for him to strip down so you can get to the main part, but he just flops onto his side next to you, ignoring the obvious hard soreness in his pants, and wraps his arms around you tightly, pulling you against his chest.

"I missed it." He whispers, kissing your knuckles. You feel his grip on your hand tighten, but he doesn’t move to taste you on his fingers. He simply places your joined hands on his chest, his other hand wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer.

You know this is the closest you'll get to an admission of guilt and an apology from him. So you accept it and gently snuggle into him.

"Good night, Benny." You whisper into his neck. He shivers.

Goosebumps appear on the skin of his neck, but he doesn't move. You just lie there, cuddled up to each other, and he presses a long kiss to the top of your head. You feel fulfilled, satisfied, happy,

He lies under you politely, ignoring his discomfort, and you know that this is some kind of sick punishment for himself. Yet you do nothing to stop it. He has to realise that he can't just take you on his bike and take you to hell knows where. He needs to realise that he can't be such a free spirit anymore if he really wants you. That he can't keep doing the shit he did with the Vandals.

Even if you're happy with how things turned out after he dargged you out of the town.

And when the next day he takes you to Florida and shows you the old family home that he inherited from his deceased father and says that he would love to burn this place down in the past, but now he wants to keep it and renovate it for you if you agree to stay with him as his wife, you know you can't stay mad at him forever. Especially not after he slides one of his rings off his finger and places it securely on yours in a silent promise and understanding between you.

You whether gonna be his wife or gonna smash up his bike, (you haven't decided yet) but in the end you gonna finally make him yours and only yours.

After all, he didn't get you back just for you to leave him again. You will stay with each other until the very end. Even if it would destroy you.

[austinbutlerslovers]

Benny Cross The Bikeriders Fantasy Part 5

Label Mature 18+

One shot/ Story Continuation

Chapter 5 Broken Promises

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

Summary When Benny is beaten to near death you tend and care for him night and day. The confident and strong man you once knew now seems lost forever in the unsure and frail Benny leaving you to put all the pieces back together.

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

📖 Proof reader @purejasmine @burnthheparaphilia

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

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

Broken Promises

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Decisions

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Burn it down

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Long Road

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whimpers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pushes deeper. A loud moan spills from your lips as he finally fills you completely, holding you firmly in his lap, his control relenting as he waits, letting the initial discomfort melt into a wave of intense pleasure. You can feel him throbbing inside of you, every pulse sending jolts of sensation through your core

“I missed you baby,” Benny confesses, resting his forehead against yours, his breaths ragged and uneven as he feels your walls pleasurably tighten around his cock.

“I missed you too, Benny,” you pant, your lips brushing soft kisses against his, enduring the throbbing ache and the intense fullness of having him deep inside you again.

His hands move down to your hips, his grip firm and steady as he guides you in a slow, deliberate rhythm pulling you against him pressing you deeper into his lap as he curses under his breath.

“Fuck ….you feel good,” he whispers, his words heavy with raw desire as his blue eyes meet yours, filled with a vulnerability and intense yearning.

You bring your hands to his jaw, cradling his face as you kiss him softly. Your lips brushing over his filled with longing and he guides your hips to roll down in his lap harder, making you take every inch of his cock deeper.

You both moan into each others mouths feeling the waves of ecstasy surge through your core and Benny feels every inch of him consumed by the overwhelming pleasure of gliding tightly inside your walls again.

His moans turn into soft whimpers as you increase the pace, riding him harder clinging to the back of his neck. You pull him closer, using him for leverage as you glide down faster and harder on his cock.

The sharp sting of his injuries and the soreness of his bruises intensify each time you settle on him, but he holds on to the overwhelming pleasure wanting more despite the pain.

His breaths come in short, shallow gasps as he looks at you with a mix of desire and vulnerability in his eyes, his body protesting, strained from each painful effort.

“Don’t stop,” he pants, his voice weak, almost pleading, as his hips push up against you, his body chasing the pleasure you’re giving him. His cock is rock hard and throbbing with need as he grabs your hips, pulling you deeper into his lap, making you take him fully.

“Yes, Benny!” you cry out, your body arching into him as he guides you to ride him harder, his hands gripping your hips almost painfully, driving his cock deeper, claiming you completely.

The sound of his light breathy and whimpers resonate within you, sending a thrill through your entire body as you watch him trying not to lose himself.

You lean in kissing him deeply and his whimpers are muffled against your mouth as you feel the pleasure of his thick cock gliding in and out of your walls.

His grasp tightens on your hips his fingers digging in desperately, determined to stay with you despite the pain, his need for you overriding everything else.

You grind down on him with force, feeling his cock push deeper inside you and a loud, desperate moan tears from his throat

His heart pounds wildly as he struggles to hold on, the pleasure of being inside you driving him to the very edge.

Every thrust, every touch, every gasp shared between you feels like a reclaiming of something lost. You feel the press of his chest against yours, the frantic beat of his heart, and the desperate way his hands grasp your body.

“I-I’m close… n-need to come…,” he pants, his voice trembling, each word filled with the sound of his struggle to hold on just a little longer.

You hold him closer, your breath warm and seductive against his ear. “Come for me Benny,” you whisper pressing your body closer, moving in perfect rhythm with him, intensifying his pleasure and urging him toward release.

His touch lightens momentarily, his hands guiding your movements to ride him slower, the weakness in his body clashing with the desire raging inside him.

But then, with a deep, guttural groan, he tightens his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he fights to reclaim control.

“I wanna… feel you come for me,” he breathes, his voice rough with determination. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he places one hand on the bed for stability. He bends his un-injured leg for support and thrusts his cock into you such precision it sends shockwaves of pleasure surging through your core.

“Benny oh god!” you scream in pleasure your walls clenching with every thrust of his cock, driving him to push you further.

“Fuck!” he cries out, his hands gripping you tighter as he drives his cock even harder, reclaiming a depth that makes your eyes roll back in pleasure. “That’s it…” he says through gritted teeth, his breath ragged. “Take it all,” he says with effort, his voice thick with intensity.

Your fingers tangle in his hair as you moan loudly against him, pulling him closer as he fills you over and over again with a depth that has you seeing stars. His breaths are shallow and ragged against your neck filled with every effort it takes for him to keep going.

His eyes remain locked on you, watching every flicker of pleasure that crosses your face, his own need to see you unravel consuming him, pushing him to hold on just a little longer, to push you over the edge.

You can hear the change in him, the way his voice catches with every thrust, his moans breaking into breathless pants. The deep, primal groans and the whimpers of pleasure that slip out when he can’t hold back.

“Let me feel it,” he pleads, his voice strained, his blue eyes locked on yours with a desperate intensity. “I need to feel you come.” He breathes, the need in his eyes is unmistakable he’s silently begging to be taken with you.

Your pleasure builds to a peak, and with one final thrust, he hits that perfect spot deep inside of you, sending you spiraling into an intense orgasm.

Your body tenses, your nails digging into his shoulders. You cry out his name, your muscles clenching rhythmically around his cock.

Benny can feel every pulse and shudder of your release, and his groans become louder, more uncontrolled against you, the pain that once held him back replaced by the overwhelming sensation of pleasure.

His cock throbs inside your walls, and you can feel his entire body tensing, every muscle coiled tight as he nears his release.

With a final, broken moan, Benny gasps, “I’m gonna—” his words are cut off by a strangled moan as his orgasm crashes over him. His hips jerk violently against you and he releases, his cock pulsing as he spills into you.

You moan loudly, feeling the warm rush of his cum flood your walls and his body trembles with the intensity of his climax, every ounce of pain gone, replaced by the addictive high of pleasure.

His breaths come out hot and ragged against your neck, each exhale trembling with the remnants of his pleasure. He buries his face there, nuzzling against your skin as he softly pants and whimpers next to your ear.

You stay there, still connected, as the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through your bodies, entwined in a profound connection of intimacy. Every exhale of his breath against your skin a testament to his determination, a silent promise that he gave you everything he had left.

You gently trail your fingertips along his shoulders, feeling the tension slowly melt away as he rests into you, his body still trembling slightly from the exertion.

As he holds you in his lap, you can feel the rapid, wild beating of his heart against yours, his sharp breaths the only sound in the quiet room, echoing softly against your neck.

“I love you so much Benny,” you whisper, your voice tender and filled with emotion as you feel him relax even more, his grip on you softening as he sinks deeper into the comfort of your embrace.

“I love you too, baby,” he murmurs softly against your skin, his voice warm and affectionate, his breaths weak uneven. With a gentle exhale against your skin he places a soft, lingering kiss on your shoulder.

His body rests heavily against yours as his breaths become softer and the weight of him begins pressing down on you as he struggles to stay awake.

“Benny, you need to rest,” you whisper gently, trying to rouse him from exhaustion.

“Alright,” he relents and his voice barely audible as every muscle in his body seems to weaken, the weight of fatigue pressing down on him.

Carefully you sit up, feeling the lingering warmth of his embrace as you place your hands gently over his chest. You slowly lift your hips up sliding his large cock from deep within your walls, hearing a faint slick sound as the tip finally slips out making both of you moan softly from loss of contact.

He gazes up at you affectionately, and you notice a look of deep satisfaction in his eyes one you haven’t seen in a long time.

“You feel good, Benny?” you ask with an affectionate smile. His blue eyes are dark, pupils blown wide as he looks up at you, his full lips parting as he pants for breath.

“Yeah” he breathes with a smile. You grin gently threading your fingers through his hair cradling the back of his head in your hands. You lean in and place a kiss on his forehead filled with pride and deep satisfaction.

The warmth of your touch and the gentle press of your lips make his eyes flutter closed as a soft sigh escapes his lips relaxing completely.

His arms hold you close as he presses his face against your chest, savoring the safety and comfort you bring him. The connection between you feels deeper than ever, a silent understanding that speaks volumes of your love for each other.

As Benny slowly releases you from his embrace, his arms tremble slightly with exhaustion. He shifts his body lower, his movements slow and unsteady as he places his palms on the bed for support.

You give him space as he lowers himself down, the effort leaving him almost too weak to move as he settles on the bed next to you.

With his final moments of strength, Benny pulls you into his strong arms, wrapping them around you in a protective embrace. You can feel the strain on his muscles, the way they tremble slightly, as if he’s trying to convey everything he feels through the simple act of holding you close.

His chest still rises and falls with soft breaths, a reminder of how much he’s given, how deeply he’s pushed past his own limits just to be with you.

“It’s okay, Benny,” you whisper softly, your thumb tracing comforting patterns along his cheek. “Just rest now… I’m not going anywhere.” You say softly, hoping to soothe the lingering tension in his body.

A soft sigh escapes his lips as he relaxes against you, his body slowly giving in to the exhaustion. His eyes flutter closed as sleep finally overtakes him. His grip on you loosens but his hands still hold you close, even in sleep.

The tension and pain that had been etched on his face gradually turn into peaceful serenity, and the faintest hint of a smile forms on his lips, a quiet sign that tonight a part of Benny has been reclaimed.

His Resolve

You and Benny are fully aware of Johnny’s fiery retribution with the Vandals after the injuries Benny sustained, it was impossible to miss.

The news had been plastered all over the papers and television, detailing how the Lakeside bar had been burned to the ground while Benny recovered in the hospital.

As Benny lay in bed, fresh out of surgery, it was the first time you heard him laugh since his injuries. The sound was weak and raspy, filled with a mix of satisfaction and respect for what his brotherhood had done on his behalf. It was a glimpse of the old Benny shining through.

Now, with Benny slowly regaining his strength over the past few weeks, it’s no surprise when you hear the faint rumble of a motorcycle in the distance as you wash the dishes.

You quickly go to collect Benny’s plate from lunch in the living room. He’s resting back on the couch, his leg propped up comfortably on an ottoman as he watches I Dream of Jeanie.

As you reach for his empty plate, you pause to observe him. The moment Benny hears the familiar rumble of a motorcycle approaching the house, he sits up, his eyes lighting up with unmistakable excitement.

“That has to be Johnny,” Benny says, a grin spreading across his face. You manage a weak smile, but inside, you can’t shake the resentment that’s formed, knowing Benny’s injuries were caused because he was beaten for wearing his colors.

Benny quickly tries to get up, grabbing the couch for support, but he struggles to gain his footing, his heart racing with too much excitement. In his haste, he knocks his crutch to the floor, reaching for it in futility, unable to pick it up.

“Benny, sit,” you say warmly, guiding him back down onto the couch. “I’ll bring him here. You’ll have plenty of time to run around once you’re fully healed,” you add, placing his crutch to rest on the arm of the couch.

“Alright, baby,” he says, and you look into his eager blue eyes as he tries to contain his excitement.

You reach the front door just as Johnny knocks. He grins as soon as he sees you. “Hey, sweetheart,” he greets, his voice carrying that familiar teasing tone. “Where’s the crippled old man?” he adds playfully.

“He’s in the living room,” you gesture with a warm smile. Johnny follows you inside, his boots echoing softly against the floor as he makes his way down the hall.

As you both enter the living room, Benny is relaxed with his arms spread across the back of the couch, practically vibrating with excitement. He’s trying to play it cool, but you can see how much he’s been looking forward to this moment.

“Look at you, all propped up like the queen,” Johnny teases, his eyes flicking to Benny’s casted foot resting on the ottoman.

“Who you calling Queen?” Benny shoots back, grinning broadly, his tone playful but carrying a hint of the old fire that’s been missing.

Johnny grins as he plops down next to Benny, pulling out a carton of cigarettes. He hands one to Benny and places another between his own lips. With a flick of his lighter, they’re both soon smoking together, the air quickly filling with the familiar haze.

“You look good, Benny. You look alright,” Johnny compliments, but then he notices you still standing in the entryway.

“Oh, you mind if we smoke in here, seeing as Benny’s all fucked up?” he asks, glancing at you.

“That’s fine, Johnny,” you reply, feeling a bit out of place. You walk over to the television and turn the volume down, trying to make yourself useful.

Johnny quickly turns his attention back to Benny. “The guys thought you might be really out of it,” he says, nodding toward Benny’s cast.

“He is out of it. He can’t walk, Johnny,” you interject, crossing your arms.

“What did the surgeon say?” Johnny asks, completely ignoring your comment.

Benny takes a drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling up as he exhales. “They cut through a tendon,” he says, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.

“Jesus,” Johnny exclaims. “They tie it back together or what?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Benny replies, exhaling a stream of smoke.

The tension of feeling unwanted in the room makes you uncomfortable, especially as you see them both deep in conversation. With Benny clearly not needing you for anything you quickly excuse yourself, heading to the kitchen to make them drinks and give them space to talk.

The banter between Benny and Johnny flows easily and naturally, you hear Benny laugh loudly several times the sound echoing through the house as he has a fit.

You smile hearing him so happy and then feel a bitterness rising that you’ve never made him laugh that way.

The thought gnaws at you, and before you realize it, you’re squeezing the lemons more aggressively, the juice splattering as you make the lemonade.

When you enter the living room with the two glasses, the air is now thick with smoke. Johnny and Benny are just finishing their conversation as you hand Benny his fresh lemonade.

“We’d sure love to see you out there. It’s gonna be a big one, maybe the biggest one yet!” Johnny says enthusiastically.

“Biggest what?” you ask, curious, as you offer the other glass of lemonade to Johnny.

“I’m good, thanks,” he says, waving it off, still engrossed in their discussion.

“It’s a picnic,” Benny explains to you. “Johnny says they’re going all out for the Daytona one,” he continues, before turning to Johnny. “How long is that, eight weeks away?”

“Yeah,” Johnny confirms.

“I mean, I’ll still be in a cast by then, but—”

“A cast?!” Johnny interrupts. “Nah, nah, you can shift with your left foot. You can always use your front brake if ya can’t put no pressure on it,” he says, gesturing to Benny’s cast.

Benny thinks it over as he takes a drag from his cigarette and Johnny seeing his hesitation uses the brotherhood to lure his decision.

“You know the guys..the guys would love to see ya out there. They’re all really worried about you.”he says earnestly

Feeling irritated by the smoke and being ignored, you place Johnny’s untouched lemonade down on the mantle harder than you intended, the glass clinking sharply.

You walk to the window, sliding it up forcefully and hitting it into place with several loud whacks as the fresh air immediately rushes in.

Hearing their conversation halt mid-sentence, you turn to see both Johnny and Benny looking at you with their brows raised in concern.

The weight of their gaze makes you feel exposed, as if they’ve noticed the frustration you’ve been trying to hide all along.

Benny then turn to Johnny and makes his decision without you. “I’ll be there,” he says with certainty, his tone final.

“Alright” Johnny says with a wide grins clearly pleased with Bennys decision. “ I’ll get out of here,” Johnny says as he gets up. “You rest,” he adds, pointing at the cast. Benny smirk as he takes another long drag from cigarette.

Johnny gives you a brief nod, “sweetheart” he says his eyes barely meeting yours before he turns and heads for the door. He leaves without another word, his abruptness toward you making you feel slighted.

The front door slams shut, the sound grating on your nerves, amplifying the irritation that’s already boiling inside of you.

You stand there for a moment, piecing together the conversation and the choice Benny made without consulting you. The tension in the room thickens, your earlier discomfort now edged with frustration.

You walk closer to Benny, crossing your arms as you look over him relaxed against the couch smoking his cigarette with a careless ease.

“You wouldn’t really ride your motorcycle injured with a cast would Benny?” you ask, concern lacing your voice.

“I dunno,” he replies, waving his cigarette hand through the air dismissively. “Turn up the TV, would you?” He says in irritation hating that his injury prevents him from doing the simplest things himself.

But you stand firm, unmoving. “I don’t want you riding, Benny,” you say sternly.

He slowly glances over at you, raising an eyebrow at your firmness.

“Yeah, it scares me especially this soon after surgery. I don’t like it,” you continue, doubling down on your resolve.

Benny’s eyes narrow, his head tilting slightly. “You don’t like it?” he repeats, his voice carrying an edge as he squints at you.

“I get worried!” you say louder, the thought of him permanently injuring himself just to prove something to Johnny and the Vandals making your heart pound with anxiety.

The silence that follows your words is heavy with tension, and you can feel the growing distance between you and Benny with each passing second.

Benny takes a long drag from his cigarette, staring off into the distance, lost in thought as he weighs his options. His jaw tightening as you watch the internal struggle playing out in his mind.

“I should just go,” he finally says, exhaling a slow stream of smoke, his voice steady tinged with an underlying sadness.

His eyes flicker with a cold, distant determination, as he nods slightly. “I should just leave,” he repeats, the words heavy with finality.

His words hang in the air, and you feel your heart drop, the realization hitting you hard that he’s considering genuinely leaving again.

“What?” you respond, your voice rising in pitch as your resolve begins to soften.

He nods his head, a look of realization crossing his face as he stares off blankly into the distance.

“It’s better this way. You’d be better off,” he finally says, his voice low and steady. He raises the cigarette to his lips with a deliberate slowness, taking a long, drawn out drag, the smoke lingering as he exhales, solidifying the weight of his words.

“Stop it! Stop it!” you cry out, your voice trembling with desperation as the fear creeps in gripping your heart.

The memory of the last time he abandoned you abruptly flashing through your mind, he left you without a second thought once his mind was set, leaving you shattered and utterly alone. The panic begins to set in, a cold, suffocating sensation that makes it hard to breathe.

Benny continues, the hurt in his voice becoming more evident, “You wouldn’t have to take care of me, worry about me…”he says revealing the truth he’s been harboring.

You shake your head frantically, tears welling up in your eyes as you tremble at the implications of what he’s saying.

He takes a long drag from his cigarette, letting his words sink in before exhaling slowly.

“When I heal up, I’ll leave,” he says with cold finality, his voice flat and devoid of emotion, as if the words are a sentence he’s already decided on.

The statement hits you hard, knocking the breath out of you, and you take a moment to gather your resolve.

Benny doesn’t say anything more and leans forward to stub out his cigarette, the action slow and deliberate, like he’s putting the final seal on a decision that’s been weighing on him for far too long.

He leans back, arms outstretched, a look of painful acceptance on his saddened face, torn between what he feels is right and what he desires.

In a moment of quiet understanding, you slowly sit on the couch beside Benny, finally able to see what he has always needed most of all. Your acceptance of his resolve, the need to do what he feels he must even when you don’t agree with the decision.

As you look up at him, your eyes are filled with a mix of sorrow and reluctant understanding, fully grasping that he’s been struggling with.

Benny meets your eyes with a look of determination and coldness, his emotions buried deep behind a wall of detachment.

Knowing exactly what he needs in this moment you lean against him and wrap your arms gently around his torso holding him closely and providing him the love and comfort he so desperately needs.

You nestle into him and press your face gently against his chest as he looks down at you with a sternness and confusion in his gaze but then, gradually, his expression softens and he wraps his strong arms around you and pulls you close with a grip that is both possessive and protective.

His face buries into your hair, and you can feel the tension in his body slowly begin to ease, knowing that even though you don’t agree with his decision, you still accept him for who he is.

His hands thread through your hair, cradling your head as he holds you against his chest. The silence between you is heavy with unspoken words until you finally break it.

“Benny, I don’t want you to go,” you relent, your voice soft, filled with a final act of surrender, understanding that he will do what he feels he must.

He plants a soft kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering as he deeply inhales your scent, something so beautiful and sweet, something that anchors him when he feels lost.

His thumbs gently trace reassuring circles on your back as he rests his head against yours, no longer torn between his loyalty to the brotherhood and his love for you.

In this moment, the conflict within him fades away,and he feels completely at peace in your embrace more grounded and connected than he has ever felt before in his life.

Just you

At night, as Benny stands in the shower, the warm water cascading over his tired muscles, he has only one thing on his mind…you. The steam fills the small bathroom, clouding the mirror as he steps out, dries off, and brushes his teeth.

He uses the door frame to steady himself as he makes his way to the nightstand, his movements slower as he balances on his uninjured leg but he’s determined to do everything himself to prove himself to you.

He quickly takes his medications, and climbs into bed, the cool sheets a welcome relief against his warm skin.

When you enter the bedroom, Benny’s heart skips a beat at the sight of you. You’re wearing a silk robe, which you slowly slip off to reveal a delicate nightie underneath. The fabric clings to your curves in a way that stirs something deep within him, awakening a longing to create something passionately between you.

As you glance around the room, you notice that Benny has already taken care of himself. He’s brushed his teeth, taken his medications, and is already tucked in, waiting for you.

“Do you need help with anything, Benny?” you ask softly, your voice tinged with pride, knowing he managed to take care of everything on his own.

Benny’s eyes lock onto yours from where he’s resting in bed. For a moment, you see a flicker of something …lust, perhaps, but then it’s gone, replaced by a steady, confident gaze. “Just you,” he says, his voice low, the words laced with an undertone that sends a thrill through you.

A smile plays on your lips as you nod feeling a sudden blush creeps up your cheeks from his words. “Alright, Benny, I won’t be long,” you say sweetly, heading to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face for the night.

Benny watches you go, a spark of desire igniting in his chest, seeing the soft sway of your hips, the gentle curves of your body. He aches with longing, his eyes following your every step, craving the closeness that’s just out of reach.

He lays back against his pillow, wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms, to show you how much he needs you, how deeply he loves you. His cock is already swelling with desire, hardening at the mere thought of you.

When you return and climb into bed with him you reach over and click off the light, plunging the room into the darkness of moonlight. With a small, sigh, you settle in, your body turned from Benny as you prepare for the usual nights sleep.

But Benny shifts in bed moving closer, his hand reaching out gently brushing against your hip. His touch soft and tender, a silent request for intimacy as he waits for your response.

You feel the eagerness in his touch and feeling a bit slighted from your argument earlier you teasingly ignore him.

He grows bolder, his fingers gripping your hip with a firm but gentle pressure, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles along the curve. Despite his advances, you stay unyielding.

“Baby,” he finally says softly, his voice low and pleading with desire. “I need you…”

His hand lingers poised on your hip awaiting for your response and you cover your mouth unable to stifle the soft unmistakable sound of a giggle that escapes.

Benny smiles understanding your playful challenge.

“You gonna make me work for it tonight, hm?” he asks, his voice low and teasing as his hand trails slowly along your side, the warmth of his touch sending a thrill through you.

A soft sigh escapes your lips as you nod, feeling the spark of anticipation growing between you. You bite your lip, knowing exactly what you’re doing to him. “Mm-hm,” you confirm with a nod.

Benny’s smiles slowly trailing his finger tips down your shoulder, his touch tantalizing and deliberate, sending a warm shiver through your body.

“I can’t get enough of you, baby,” he murmurs, his voice filled with longing. “Seeing you in your little nightie and now you teasing me like this..,” he says, pulling gently at the silk strap, his fingers brushing against your skin.

“Now I need you, more than anything,” he confirms, his voice thick with desire as he leans in closer. His breath is soft against your neck. His chest presses firmly against your back as his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you intimately against him. “Don’t tease me like this baby,” he breathes into your ear, his lips grazing your skin.

You close your eyes, trying to hold onto your resolve, but the heat of his body and the intensity in his voice start to warm you up to his touch as you slowly give in. “Benny…,” you begin, your voice soft and breathless, but he shushes you with a quiet “shhh,” his breath warm against your ear as his hand slides down your side, the silk of your nightie gliding smoothly under his fingers as he teasing the edges of your panties with a feather-light touch.

“Mm Mmn, you wanted to tease me remember?” he says, his voice laced with a hint of satisfaction. “Now it’s my turn,” he continues, his tone deepening as his fingers widen their grasp, exploring your body with a possessive touch keeping you on edge. He draws out your anticipation with every firm deliberate squeeze. “Let’s see how much you can take,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine

His words break through, and you can feel the wetness increasing between your legs. You glance over your shoulder, meeting his gaze, the heat in his eyes making your heart race. “You’re not playing fair Benny,” you whisper, your voice breathless.

Benny’s lips curve into a knowing smile as his hand continues its slow exploration, sliding under the silk of your nightie. “Who said I was playing?” he whispers, his voice heavy with desire. The look in his eyes is one of pure, unrestrained lust, and it sends a wave of heat through your body, making you ache to give in to him completely.

“Benny…” you begin softly, your voice tinged with need, but he silences you with a kiss on your lips, slow and deliberate. The tip of his tongue teasing yours, sending waves of heat through your body. You moan into his mouth, unable to contain the pleasure building inside you.

His hand slowly slips under your nightie, gliding over your heated skin. He finds the edge of your lace panties, his fingers slipping inside to explore the slickness of your arousal. His touch is teasing and slow, his fingers glide through your wetness, each stroke making you crave him even more.

Benny’s lips leave yours, trailing a line of kisses down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers continue their exploration as he slips them deep inside of you, finding that sensitive spot within and stroking it with a rhythm that makes your body tremble. Your whimpers mix with your gasps, each sound growing more desperate as the pleasure builds inside you.

“You’re so wet for me,” he whispers against your neck, his voice low with desire. “I love feeling you like this baby,” he praises.

As his fingers curl inside you, he increases the pressure, his thumb circling your clit in time with his strokes. The sensation is overwhelming, every touch sending you closer to the edge. Your hips begin to move against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction, your breath coming in short, heated pants.

“That’s it,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice filled with encouragement. “Let go for me baby. I want to feel you come.”

The combination of his skilled fingers and his his words send you spiraling closer to the edge, the pleasure mounting with each passing second. Your body quivers in anticipation, overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch.​

Benny’s kisses travel down your throat, his tongue flicking against your pulse point as his fingers continue their relentless rhythm.

You feel every nerve in your body lighting up with desire, your whimpers turning into needy moans as you get closer and closer to release.

Your breathing quickens, your body tightening around his fingers as you teeter on the edge of release. His other hand moves to your breast, squeezing gently, his thumb brushing over your nipple, sending even more sparks of pleasure through you. The intensity is almost too much to bear, and you can’t help but moan loudly as the tension coils its tightest within your core.

“Benny-!” you cry out, your voice breaking with pleasure as your walls clench around his fingers as you moan feeling the intensity so powerful it makes you see stars.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Come for me… soak my fingers, just like that.”

His words push you over the edge, and with a final stroke, you shatter. Your orgasm crashes over you, your body convulsing with waves of pleasure that seem to go on forever.

Your moans are unending, filling the room as Benny holds you close, his fingers continuing to coax every last tremor from your body. Your panting and whimpers become breathless gasps, your entire being lost in the overwhelming ecstasy that courses through you.

He presses his lips to your neck, whispering softly, “That’s it, baby… so good for me ” his voice full of satisfaction knowing he’s given you exactly what you needed.

You come down from your high, your body trembling and weak and Benny withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips with a satisfied smile. He licks your arousal from his fingers, savoring the taste with a look of deep satisfaction.

Then, with a gentle yet insistent touch he guides your lips to his for a soft, lingering kiss.

The taste of pleasure on your lips sends a thrill through Benny as you struggle to catch your breath, feeling completely spent and utterly fulfilled. But the lingering intensity in his gaze tells you he’s far from done.

His hand slips under your nightie, his fingers tracing slow, sensual patterns around your navel. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, “I want to fill you up baby,” his voice heavy with desire, sending shivers of anticipation through your body.

“I want to create something lasting with you,” he reveals, his voice laced with intent. He lets the gravity of his words linger between you, his breath warm against your neck as his fingers trace slow, deliberate circles just below your belly button, lingering there with purpose.

His lips graze your ear as he leans in closer, “I want to have a baby with you,” he confesses, his voice tinged with longing, a deep need to create something permanent, something that binds you both in a way that nothing else can.

His touch feels different now, more intimate, as his hand moves gently across your stomach. The thought of carrying his child, of creating something lasting and beautiful with Benny, fills you with a deep profound sense of connection and love.

You turn your head slightly, your lips barely brushing his as you whisper, “I want that too, Benny.” Your voice is breathless, filled with anticipation and desire. You place your hand over his, pressing it more firmly against your stomach, silently encouraging him, letting him know you’re ready.

Benny’s eyes darken with intensity at your response, his fingers tightening their hold on you. “It’s all I want now,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with raw emotion. He leans in, kissing you softly at first, savoring the warmth of your lips. Then, his kiss deepens, growing urgent and passionate, making your heart race.

He pulls back just enough to say, “I’ll show you how much I want you,” his breath hot against your lips. Then, with deliberate slowness, he pulls you closer pressing his hard insistent cock firmly against your thighs. The sudden, powerful contact makes you moan, revealing in the strength of his desire that he’s been holding back, waiting until this very moment to let you feel just how much he needs you.

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Let me show you how much I love you,” he whispers, his voice low and filled with longing.

His hand glides up your side, fingers tracing lightly over the silk of your nightie and he hooks his finger under the strap, slipping it off your shoulder.

You help him with the other strap, feeling his breath warm against your neck as he guides the fabric lower. He presses soft, lingering kisses to your shoulder, each one more tender than the last, as he pulls the nightie down as far as he can.

You lift your hips, allowing him to hook his thumb into your panties, sliding them down along with the delicate nightie. He glides the fabric over your legs slipping everything off completely, leaving you naked and exposed beneath his gaze.

His hand finds your arm guiding you from your side onto your back and the away his hands move with such reverence and desire, makes your heart race.

“I know we can’t have a baby yet,” Benny says, his voice tense with lust, his eyes roaming over your body.

“But I’m going to practice tonight like it’s for keeps,” he promises.

Benny lifts himself over you, his movements controlled and steady. His body hovers above yours, the intensity in his eyes never wavering as he positions himself to take you completely

You reach up, trailing your hands along his broad shoulders holding them for support.

“Benny, I’m going to make sure we have that baby,” you promise him, your voice filled with resolve. “I’m stopping my pills tonight.”

His eyes gaze into yours with a strong sense of fulfillment and a slow satisfied smile forms at the corners of his lips.

With his strong arms braced on either side of your head, he lowers himself down, his lips capturing yours in a deep, sensual kiss, savoring every second, every touch, as if he’s determined to make you melt beneath him.

He settles between your thighs and his body is a delicious weight on yours. The sensation of his firm chest pressing against yours sends a thrill through you as the heat of his skin and the hard planes of his abs fit perfectly against your soft curves. It’s intoxicating, the strength of him surrounding you, making you feel both protected and utterly desired.

His hardened cock teasingly presses against your wetness,and the sensation makes you moan into his mouth which he captures in his heated kiss.

Your hands instinctively slide down his back, trailing over the firm muscles that tense beneath your fingertips. You reach down to the curve of your own hips, grasping the hem of your panties, desperate to remove the final barrier between you.

Benny’s lips trail down your neck, his kisses hot and lingering, and he helps you, his fingers brushing against yours as you tug at the delicate lace.

He grips the fabric firmly and there’s a brief pause, just enough time for you to feel the anticipation build, and then, with a sharp, satisfying tear, he rips the delicate lace apart. The sound of threads snapping fills the air, mingling with your soft gasp.

Benny slips the lace from your body and flings it aside, his mouth capturing yours in a heated kiss that is both raw and possessive. His body presses harder against you, his cock throbbing with need as he nudges it insistently against you.

His hands slide up your sides cupping your breasts as he circles your nipples with his thumbs, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

You moan softly into his mouth, arching your back, pressing your chest against his hands, craving more of his touch, more of him.

Benny pulls back, breaking the kiss his breaths heavy and uneven as he presses harder against your sensitive nipples, rolling them slowly under his thumbs. He watches you intently, savoring every cry, every moan that escapes your lips, taking his time to draw out your pleasure.

“I want to hear more of those sweet sounds,” he rasps, lowering his mouth to take one of your nipples between his lips. His tongue flicks teasingly over the sensitive peak before he sucks gently, working his lips and tongue in unison as your moans turn into soft, breathless cries.

His free hand continues to knead and tease your other breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers and pinching with just enough pressure to make you gasp. Your walls clench around nothing in response to the sensations he’s pulling from you.

Every lick, every pinch is planned, deliberate, keeping you teetering on the edge as he takes his time, savoring the way your body responds to him.

He shifts his body against yours, his hardened cock sliding through your soaked folds, spreading your wetness across your thighs. The slick heat between you only amplifying your physical need for each other.

“Baby, you’re so wet for me,” he groans, his voice thick with desire as he feels the slickness coating his length. He nudges his tip against your entrance, making you cry out, your hips lifting in response, seeking more of him.

His hands slide down from your breasts, gliding over your waist and settling firmly on your hips. His grip is possessive as he spreads your legs into the perfect position.

His cock is hard, throbbing with an almost painful need as the tip presses against your entrance. He looks down at you, his eyes dark with lust as he slowly pushes his hips forward.

His large cock eases into your slick tight walls sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body, your moans blending with his low, guttural groans as he pushes you to take it deeper.

He moves with deliberate slowness, savoring every inch as he fills you up. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pressure that has you arching into him, craving him as he continues to push. Benny groans, the sound deep and primal, as he buries himself into you completely his body trembling with the effort to hold back.

Your moans fill the room, mingling with his ragged breaths as he begins to move, each thrust measured, designed to push you closer to the edge. His hands grip your hips tight, guiding you to meet each of his thrusts , the rhythm between you building, intensifying with each passing second.

“Baby.. you feel so good,” Benny pants, his voice rough with desire. His lips find yours again, capturing your moans as his pace quickens, the pleasure coursing through you both. You can feel the tension building, the sweet, unbearable pressure signaling your impending release. You cling to him, your nails digging into his back as you surrender completely to the overwhelming sensation.

He breaks the kiss, his breath warm and uneven against your ear.

“I’m gonna fill you up soon,” he whispers, his voice heavy with desire. “Gonna make you big and round, carrying our baby.” His hand slides possessively to rest on your stomach, his touch lingering and firm. “Everyone will know… how much I wanted this, how much I wanted you,” he breathes, his lips grazing your ear with each word

Benny’s other hand moves down, slipping between your legs his fingers brushing over your clit with deliberate, teasing strokes.

His fingers circle your clit, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure through your body as his words sink in, heightening the intensity of the moment. “You want that, don’t you?” he breathes, his voice deepening with desire.

You moan in response, your breath hitching as you manage to say, “Y-yes!…Yes I want that Benny.”

“Good “ he says grinding his hips harder and pushing his cock deeper, as his hand continues its relentless assault on your clit. “I want you to come baby,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear, “come knowing what we’re going to make together… knowing how much I wanted to get you pregnant tonight.”

His words, his touch, and the deep, steady rhythm of his thrusts drives you to the edge. Your orgasm builds coiling the tension tighter and tighter until you can’t hold back any longer, it crashes through you, a tidal wave of pleasure that leaves you breathless, your body convulsing around him as you cry out his name.

“Take it deep for me” he groans with exertion feeling your walls tightening around his cock and a final, powerful thrust, Benny follows you into oblivion, his groans are guttural and raw, as he comes inside of you, his cock pulsing as his body trembles with the force of his release.

His breath comes in short, ragged pants as his hips gently grind against you, savoring every last moment of pleasure. Each spasm of his cock sending waves of warmth through your body.

He softly collapses against you, his breaths hot and ragged “The next one’s for keeps,” he says, his voice filled with exhaustion and excitement making a shared grin spread across both of your faces, knowing your mutual desire for the real thing.

He plants a tender kiss on your forehead, both of you spent but utterly satisfied, lost in the afterglow of a moment that feels like a new exciting path on your life adventure.

He’s Mine

After making sure Benny is settled in the morning, his breakfast finished and his medications taken, you sweetly kiss him on the forehead and tell him you’re going to make a quick dash to the grocery store.

As you get behind the wheel of your Mustang, you decisively head toward the Vandals’ club the grocery run was a rouse you had planned. The roar of the engine beneath you revs in the background of your focused thoughts. Your mind is set on a single goal: getting Benny out of the Vandals and claiming him all for yourself.

Once you arrive at the club you park the Mustang with precision, ensuring it’s securely locked before striding across the street. Dressed in a fitted crop top and high-waisted jeans, with a purse casually draped over your shoulder, you project confidence and determination. Each click of your heels against the pavement resonates with purpose as you approach the Vandal club.

With a deep breath, you push open the front door, your resolve unwavering.

The interior is dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of smoke and stale beer. Only a few members are scattered around, some lounging, others staggering with drunkenness. Their eyes follow you as you enter, faint whistles being heard some looking you over with curiosity and others something darker.

One of them, a long haired man with tattoos creeping up his neck, steps forward, his eyes narrowing as he gets a closer look. “Well, well, what do we have here?” he drawls, his gaze lingering on you in a way that makes your skin crawl. “You lost, little lady? Or maybe you’re just looking for some company?” he adds with a sly grin.

You don’t hesitate, your voice cutting through his sleazy haze like a knife. “Where’s Johnny?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest, your stance firm and unyielding.

The man holds up his hands in a mock gesture of surrender, a smirk playing on his lips. “Easy pretty lady. Johnny’s in the back. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Within minutes, you find yourself sitting face-to-face with Johnny in his office. The tension in the room is thick. You are leaned back in your chair, arms and legs crossed, barely concealing your irritation. Johnny, with his elbows resting on the table and fingers interlaced, has a look of avoidance on his face as he tries to gauge your mood.

You lock eyes with Johnny, your gaze unwavering as his eyes dart around, deliberately avoiding yours.

Beneath the surface, your anger simmers, but you keep it in check, your voice firm and resolute.

“You can’t have him, the club can’t have him,” you state, each word carrying the weight of your decision, leaving no room for argument.

Johnny raises an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. “Who?”

Your voice sharpens, cutting through the tense air. “You know exactly who I’m talking about. Benny!” you snap, sitting up straighter as your arms cross tighter against your chest.

Johnny’s smirk fades, replaced by a cold, calculating look as he finally grasps your intent. Before he can respond, you press on, your voice steady but charged with emotion.

“He’s mine,” you declare with a possessive edge staking your claim on Benny with every ounce of determination you have.

Johnny’s eyes lock onto yours, recognition dawning that you’re not to be taken lightly. Benny was right you are tougher than you look.

Johnny remains silent for a moment, absorbing the weight of your words. A flicker of respect crosses his face as he realizes you’re not backing down.

You lean in further, frustration and fear making your voice rise.

“If he keeps riding his motorcycle for the club, he’s going to die one way or another. It’ll kill him, and you know it!”

Johnny meets your eyes with mock concern, his voice dismissive. “What am I supposed to do about it?”

You don’t back down, your eyes brimming with the intensity of your emotions.

Johnny looks away from you, thinking it over, trying to convey the nature of Benny’s independence.

“I don’t own Benny, just like you don’t own Benny,” Johnny says, his tone hardening to emphasize the point.

“Ain’t nobody can tell that kid nothin’,” he continues, as if the matter is settled but your eyes still lock onto his undeterred.

“He’s grown,” Johnny adds, his tone firm as if that finalizes everything.

As you continue to stare him down Johnny makes Bennys independence clear.

“If he wants to ride a bike, he’s gonna ride a bike,” Johnny says with a shrug, the finality in his voice knowing Benny’s choices have always been for himself.

You lean forward, your voice firm and pleading. “Not if you tell him not to. Not if you tell him he’s out of the club.”

Johnny scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “C’mon,” he mutters.

Your anger flares, your eyes locking onto his.

“I’m his wife, NOT you,” you snap, each word sharp and pointed.

Johnny’s eyes narrow. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” he quips

You meet his gaze, unwavering and full of raw emotion. “Oh, I know you love him, I love him too,” you confess, your words hanging in the air. “That’s why you’ve got to help me.”​

For a brief moment, something flickers in Johnny’s eyes, something like hesitation or guilt, but it’s quickly replaced by his hardened expression. “Are you done?” he asks, his voice cold, his brows easing as if trying to brush off the weight of your words.

You shake your head, the tension still thick between you. “I don’t know, am I?” you retort, challenging him with your defiance.

Johnny leans back in his chair, his patience wearing thin, his eyes filled with a mix of frustration and something deeper, something he won’t name. “You got anything more to say?” he asks, his voice tight with barely contained annoyance.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you. “No. I said it,” you confirm, your voice final.

The silence that follows is heavy, an unspoken showdown as you both stare at each other. Finally, Johnny looks away, his expression twisted with annoyance . You stand abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor as you push it back, your heels echoing in the small office as you head for the door.

Before you leave, you turn back one last time, your voice sharp and definitive. “You can’t have him. The club can’t have him. he’s mine”

The door slams shut behind you, leaving Johnny alone with the truth he doesn’t want to face: you’re determined to separate Benny from his life, as a Vandal and he can’t allow that to happen.

🏍️ To be continued 🏍️

Part 5: For Keeps

With every thing stripped from Benny he begins to understand what he really wants out of life, and after a fateful turn of events putting your life at risk, his decision is finalized changing both of your lives forever.

🔗 Master List

🏍️ Benny Cross Tag List 🏍️

@finley-08 @ashleybutler-26 @ifuckindontknow @landlockedmermaid77 @jvanilly @oceanablue @12joeywheelerfangirl @autumnleaves1991-blog @presley1992 @rose-deathman @sillylittlethrowaway @lillypink @faephoria @butdaddyilovehim99 @nostalgichoya @ausssbutlershortstories @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

[austinswife]

‘DUNE 3’ AND BABY BUMP — Austin Butler

SYPNOSIS: Austin Butler and his wife, Y/N, have just wrapped filming on Dune 3 together, where they played intense and compelling roles—Austin as the menacing Feyd Rautha, and Y/N as one of his captivating consorts. The two, now parents to their newborn daughter Wren, join The Graham Norton Show alongside Dune producer Barbara Sanderson to discuss their experience making the movie. As they reveal intimate behind-the-scenes moments, including how Y/N filmed while pregnant and concealed her growing bump, the conversation takes a funny and heartfelt turn. Between Austin’s protective instincts on set, the crew’s humorous attempts to safeguard the baby bump, and the secret they kept from their fans, the interview showcases the couple’s love, their chemistry, and the unforgettable memories they made while working together.

WARNING(S): Mentions of pregnancy, humor and lighthearted conversations, discussions of intimate scenes in a playful way, fluff.

𝜗𝜚 ALL FEEDBACKS, IDEAS SUGGESTION — TO AUSTINSWIFE

divider by @/chilumitos

The soft hum of excited chatter filled the studio of The Graham Norton Show as the audience eagerly awaited the next segment. It was a particularly star-studded episode, featuring the much-anticipated stars of Dune 3. As the cameras prepared to roll, Graham himself sat ready at his desk, glancing through his notes and smiling at the mention of the guests he would soon welcome to the stage. He knew this was going to be a fun interview—he could feel it.

“And now,” Graham said with his trademark charm as the show returned from its commercial break, “please give a warm welcome to the stars of Dune 3—Austin Butler, Y/N Y/L/N, and the producer of the Dune series, Barbara Sanderson!”

The applause erupted as Austin, dressed in a sleek, perfectly tailored black suit, walked hand in hand with you, his wife and co-star, Y/N. You radiated elegance in a soft, flowy dress that accentuated your post-pregnancy glow. Behind you, Barbara Sanderson, the producer, strode confidently onto the stage, smiling broadly at the adoring crowd.

Once the three of you were seated on the famous red couch, Graham leaned in, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, look at you two! Fresh from the intergalactic battles of Dune 3 and straight into parenthood. Congratulations on the birth of your daughter, Wren Butler!”

The applause filled the room once again as you and Austin exchanged a warm look, his hand gently squeezing yours.

“Thank you so much,” you said, beaming. “She’s been an absolute joy, and we’re really loving being new parents.”

Austin nodded in agreement, his face lighting up at the mention of Wren. “Yeah, it’s been incredible. She’s such a sweet baby.”

Graham leaned forward with that ever-curious expression, already knowing the direction he wanted to take the conversation.

“Now, I have to ask—Dune 3 is quite an intense film. I mean, it’s the culmination of this epic sci-fi saga, and the two of you play some pretty heavy roles. Austin, you’re Feyd Rautha, the ruthless antagonist, and Y/N, you’re one of his darlings. There are some... well, let’s call them intimate scenes between the two of you, aren’t there?”

The audience chuckled as Austin smirked, his hand still resting protectively on your knee. You shared a quick glance with him, both of you clearly in on the joke.

“Oh yeah,” Austin drawled, flashing that signature half-smile of his. “Feyd Rautha doesn’t do subtle.”

Graham laughed and nodded. “No, I don’t think subtle is in his vocabulary. But there’s been a lot of speculation, Y/N, because—correct me if I’m wrong—were you actually pregnant while filming those scenes?”

The room seemed to hold its breath as the question hung in the air, and the audience collectively leaned forward in their seats. You grinned, glancing at Austin for a beat before answering.

“Yes, it’s true—I was pregnant while filming Dune 3,” you admitted, laughing softly as the crowd gasped in surprise. “In fact, I found out early on, but I was lucky because my bump didn’t really show much until I was about eight or nine months pregnant. So by the time we were filming those scenes, I had a tiny bump, but only Austin and the crew knew!”

The audience erupted into laughter and applause, clearly charmed by your candid admission. Graham’s eyes widened, clearly intrigued.

“So let me get this straight—you were filming these intense, steamy scenes with Feyd Rautha while pregnant with Austin’s baby?”

You nodded, laughing even harder. “Yep! I was carrying his baby the whole time during that scene where I’m, well... not wearing much. Talk about method acting!”

Austin, trying to hold back his laughter, chimed in. “Yeah, it was pretty surreal, to be honest. We’d be in the middle of a scene where I’m supposed to be all intense and villainous, and then as soon as they called ‘cut,’ I’d go straight into husband mode—‘Are you okay? Do you need anything? How’s the baby?’”

The audience burst into laughter again as you playfully nudged Austin, smiling affectionately. “He was the most overprotective co-star I’ve ever had,” you teased. “But honestly, it was really sweet. He and the entire crew were so supportive. I felt like I had a whole army of people making sure I was comfortable.”

Barbara Sanderson, the producer, who had been quietly enjoying the banter so far, spoke up with a fond smile. “I think it’s safe to say that once we found out Y/N was pregnant, the entire atmosphere on set shifted. Everyone became so protective of her. I remember one day when we were filming a particularly physical scene, and I swear, at least five people rushed to her side with pillows and blankets the moment we finished shooting.”

Graham’s eyes widened in mock disbelief. “Pillows and blankets on a Dune set? Sounds like a far cry from the sandworms and desert storms of Arrakis!”

You laughed, nodding. “It was so funny! I felt like I was wrapped in bubble wrap half the time. And the funny part is that I felt completely fine—like, I wasn’t really showing much, and I wasn’t feeling sick or anything, but everyone was treating me like I was about to go into labor at any moment.”

Austin grinned, clearly loving the memory. “Yeah, I remember one scene where you had to lie down on this really uncomfortable-looking floor, and before I could even say anything, someone was already there with a pillow, fluffing it up for you. It was like, ‘Alright, guys, she’s tough—she can handle it.’”

Barbara laughed, nodding in agreement. “We did get a little overzealous, I’ll admit. But when your co-star is carrying a baby, you do tend to get a bit overprotective!”

Graham leaned back in his chair, thoroughly entertained. “So, Austin, how was it for you knowing that your co-star—who also happens to be your wife—was pregnant with your child during these scenes? Was it difficult to stay in character?”

Austin scratched the back of his neck, a playful grin crossing his face. “Well, let’s just say it added a whole new layer to things. I mean, there’s Feyd Rautha—this brutal, ambitious character—and then there’s me, Austin, who’s just trying to make sure my wife and our baby are okay. So yeah, it was definitely a bit of a challenge to switch back and forth.”

The audience chuckled at his honesty, and Graham leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I can only imagine! And I have to ask, did the fans pick up on any of this? Because if your bump wasn’t really showing until later, I imagine it must have been quite the surprise when you finally announced your pregnancy.”

You nodded, a knowing smile on your lips. “Yeah, we managed to keep it pretty low-key. I think most fans didn’t notice anything at all. I wore a lot of loose costumes, and the camera angles were really clever. It wasn’t until after filming wrapped, and we announced Wren’s birth, that people were like, ‘Wait, you were pregnant during all of that?!’”

Graham shook his head in disbelief. “Incredible. And now you’ve got a beautiful daughter. How is Wren doing?”

Austin’s expression softened immediately at the mention of his daughter. “She’s amazing. She’s the happiest little baby, always smiling. We feel really lucky.”

“She’s been a dream,” you added, your voice full of warmth. “And we’re just so grateful for how everything worked out. Filming Dune 3 while pregnant was definitely a unique experience, but now that we have Wren, it all feels even more special.”

Graham smiled, clearly touched by the couple’s love for their daughter. “Well, it sounds like a labor of love—no pun intended.”

The audience laughed again, and Graham leaned in with a teasing glint in his eye. “Before we wrap things up, I have one more question, because the Dune fans will absolutely want to know—were you ever shy filming those intimate scenes with Feyd Rautha, knowing you were pregnant?”

Y/N smirked, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Shy? Not at all! I mean, I was literally pregnant with his baby while filming those scenes. By that point, I was more worried about not tripping over cables on set or staying awake between takes."

The audience erupted in laughter, their amusement filling the room. Austin grinned, his arm draped comfortably behind you as he chuckled.

"Yeah, when you're both trying to stay in character and simultaneously making sure you're not stepping on your wife's dress or her tiny baby bump, 'shyness' kind of takes a backseat."

Graham, always quick to lean into the humor, smiled wide. "It does add a whole new dimension to 'intimate scenes,' doesn’t it?"

Barbara, who had been watching with an amused expression, nodded. "Oh, absolutely. I remember one of the costume designers coming up to me, stressing about how to hide the bump, and I just said, 'Embrace it. If anyone asks, we’ll say it’s all part of the world-building.’"

The audience roared with laughter, and you chimed in, still laughing. "Honestly, the bump was so small that for most of the filming, it was our little secret. But by the end, I think some people on set were like, 'Wait a minute...'"

Austin playfully nudged you, shaking his head. "It’s amazing how you kept it under wraps for so long. By the time your bump did start to show, it was like an Easter egg for the crew. Everyone was tiptoeing around it."

Graham leaned forward, still grinning. "So the fans were completely in the dark until you announced Wren’s birth?"

"Pretty much," you confirmed. "We didn’t want to make a big public announcement during filming. It was such a special time for us, and we really just wanted to keep it between us and our closest friends and family."

Graham nodded, clearly touched. "It sounds like you handled it beautifully. And I think I speak for everyone when I say it’s wonderful to see you two sharing this moment, both in your careers and in your lives together."

The audience applauded again, the warmth in the room palpable. Austin turned to you with a soft smile, his hand gently squeezing yours as he spoke. "It’s been an amazing journey, both in terms of Dune 3 and our life as a family. We feel really lucky."

You smiled back at him, your heart full as you took in the supportive energy of the room. "We do. And honestly, Wren’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect. She arrived right after we finished filming, like she was waiting for her cue."

Graham laughed, clapping his hands together. "A born performer already! Watch out, Hollywood!"

The light-heartedness of the moment allowed everyone to bask in the happiness that radiated from the two of you. Even Barbara, normally so focused and professional, seemed to be swept up in the magic of the interview. "It’s rare to have this kind of chemistry on set," she said thoughtfully. "Austin and Y/N brought so much more to their roles than just acting. There was a real connection, and I think it showed in every scene."

Graham glanced between you and Austin, raising an eyebrow. "Speaking of chemistry, what’s it like acting opposite your husband in a movie like Dune? Is it hard to separate the personal from the professional?"

You laughed lightly, tilting your head toward Austin. "Honestly? Sometimes yes, and sometimes no. There were moments where it was challenging to stay in character, especially when he’d shoot me a look, and I’d know exactly what he was thinking, which usually had nothing to do with the scene."

Austin chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, it definitely keeps things interesting. You’ll be in the middle of this intense, dramatic moment, and then one of us will break character for a split second, and it’s hard not to laugh. But I think, ultimately, working together was really rewarding. We pushed each other in ways I don’t think we would have with anyone else."

Graham smiled warmly, clearly charmed by the dynamic between the two of you. "It sounds like a real partnership, both on and off screen."

"It really is," you said softly. "We’ve always supported each other’s careers, and Dune 3 gave us the chance to take that support to a whole new level. Filming while pregnant, working through those intense scenes together—it’s all made us stronger as a couple and as parents."

Austin nodded, his expression filled with pride. "Yeah, we’ve been through a lot together, and this experience just solidified how much we’ve got each other’s backs."

Graham looked genuinely moved. "That’s beautiful. And now you’ve got Wren, this incredible new chapter in your lives. What’s next for you both? More movies together? More babies?"

The audience laughed, and you couldn’t help but join in. "Well, we’re definitely taking some time off to focus on Wren right now. But who knows? If the right project comes along, we might just team up again. As for more babies..." You glanced at Austin with a playful smile. "We’ll see!"

Austin grinned, raising his eyebrows mischievously. "One day at a time, Graham."

Graham shook his head, laughing. "Well, whatever the future holds, I’m sure it’s going to be amazing. Thank you both so much for sharing your story, and congratulations again on Wren and the success of Dune 3."

As the audience clapped and the lights dimmed for the final moments of the segment, you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you. Sitting there with Austin, reflecting on the incredible journey you’d shared, you couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of something even greater.

As you left the stage, Austin’s arm wrapped around your waist, you exchanged a look that said more than words ever could. From co-stars to husband and wife, from actors to parents, your shared adventure was far from over. Whether on-screen or off, you knew that whatever came next, you’d be facing it together.

And as for Wren? Well, maybe one day, she'd get her own starring role.

part 2? maybe

[voxmortuus]

⇘ PAIRING:⇙ Dom!Benny Cross x Sub!F!Reader

⇘ UNIVERSE:⇙ The Bikeriders

⇘ WORD COUNT:⇙ 3k

⇘ SUMMARY:⇙ Seems you've found yourself in a rather unique situation. You've known Benny for a long while, but you always felt a little out of his league, whatever league that may be, it just didn't feel like you were good enough for him. The thing is, you're just what he's looking for. You've got a lot of love to give, a heart on your sleeve, and a loyalty that is stronger than a dog. He wants you, but he wants you specifically. He wants you to be his old lady, he wants you to be his ride or die. Once he gets you alone though, the patches stay on, and things get a little far from vanilla.

⇘ TRIGGER WARNINGS:⇙ Fluff | Language | Smoking | Smut | Some BDSMesque Scenes | Dom!Benny | Kissing | Face Smacking | Boot on Face | Hair Pulling | Fingering | Hand job | Oral (M) | Face fucking | Guided Masturbation | Benny Masturbating | Begging | Facial | These are in no particular order! PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this…

⇘ NOTES:⇙ I hope this brings you some joy.

⇘ DIVIDER CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa

⇘ IMAGE CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa

⇘ My Master Masterlist ⇙

Was it happenstance, or was it planned that he happened to show up today? Handing the beer over the counter, you lean against the bar, and you smile the sweetest smile you've got in you.

"Well shit, if it ain't Benny Cross. How long has it been?" You asked. Benny looked up at you as he walked in, giving you that same crooked grin he always walked around with. He gave a slight chuckle.

"Well, no shit. It's been, what, almost 7 years?" He asked you. You nod your head and chuckle a bit.

"Yeah, somethin' like that." you smirk and look down at the bar top.

It had been what feels like forever. It feels like you haven't seen him in ages, and truth be told, it had been ages. Seven whole ages, as a matter of fact. Smirking, he looks over you as he approaches the bar. Looking over his face, you smile, and a soft blush graces your cheeks, causing you to feel warm. Letting out a soft, shaky breath, you glance around, realizing that no one else was there in the bar, but you knew that wasn't going to last too long. How do you even say what you think you need to say. You groan, and you sigh and decide not to say anything.

As the night went on, the two of you mingled and caught up. He learned quite a bit about you, just as much as you learned about him. You learned quite a bit, and he learned just as much. However, you learned something that he didn't tell you either, he had always liked you. Well fuck. Upon closing up the bar, you look at him and shake your head.

"Benny, I've always had a thing for you. I always thought you were too good for me. Outta my fuckin league." you state honestly.

Benny stopped and stared at you. "Outta my league? No, no. I felt you were outta mine. Let me ask you this... you still want me?"

"I've always wanted you... that never changed, never after all these years." you admit.

He looks at you and runs his hand over his face. Nodding his head, he looks back toward the door. Looking back at you, he walks to the door and locks it. "Come here." he points to the ground in front of him.

Lifting a well-manicured and well-defined brow, you walk to him and stand in front of him. You look over that face, that handsome, perfectly chiseled face, and you lose yourself all over again. Why? Why, when you are around him, he makes you feel so... weak. He makes you feel so... dead-brained.

Walking to you, he sticks a finger under your chin and forces you to look up at him. A thought crosses his mind, an urge.

"I want you to prove to me how much you want me." He tells you, his voice drops an octave as he watches you.

"How do you want me to do that Benny? Just say the word and you got it." You state.

"Strip, then lay flat, face down on the floor." He states.

Okay, so that was NOT what you had expected. Blinking a few times, you don't hesitate, and you do just that. Stripping down, you fold your clothes and place them to the side, and you lower yourself to the floor. Biting your lower lip, you listen as he paces around you, observing you, taking in your figure, your heartbeat picks up in anticipation as you watch his boots come into view, and he stops and looks down at you.

Benny lights a cigarette and takes a long drag from it. Watching you as you lay there, he runs his free hand through his hair and then over his facial hair for a moment. Smirking, he takes a few steps closer to you and kneels down a moment, a hand dangling between his legs.

"So, you've gone this whole time not sayin anything. All because you felt I was out of your league... You know Darlin' if you had said anything, you may have learned a thing or two about how I felt. Maybe you need to be punished for that, huh? Teach you how to speak your mind? Make you beg for my attention now?" he stated.

Why did that make your cunt tingle? Make you hot? And why the fuck did that sound like such a good idea coming from him? You nod softly.

"No, I want you to say it." He stated firmly as he took a drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke bellow above him as he exhaled.

"Yes. Punish me, teach me to speak my mind... make me... beg." You state. Your eyes look at his boots, and your fingers press into the floor as they are stretched out to your sides.

Standing up, he looks ahead of him, out the window of the bar, and smirks. He leans against the pool table, thinking of ways to punish you. Looking at your figure as you are sprawled out against the floor, so many things come to mind.

Standing back up from leaning, he pushes himself from the pool table and walks to you. He places his right boot on the side of your head. Not stepping, but applying just enough pressure for it to feel -- oddly comfortable. Your fingers press into the floor as you gasp. Why are you feeling this right now? Feeling these... feelings push through your thoughts. You bite your lip, and you let out a slow breath.

"Now, I've been thinking, since walking into this place, since we started talking, reminiscing about the past. I have been thinking about how things could go. About how we could have been together this whole time. But now, now I see the kind of girl you really are. I won't lie, Darlin'... kinda revs me up a bit. Eager to please." he mused a moment.

Looking down at you, he tilts his head, a sight for sore eyes, and fuck did he enjoy the view. Licking his lips, he took another drag from his smoke before he reached over to a close by table and tapped the ashes into an ashtray he had. With your head under his boot, he looks over the rest of your body. Leaning over with a smoke between his lips, his fingers run down the length of your spine. Feeling your flesh under his fingers.

"Soft to the touch." he pointed out.

Standing back up, he moved away from you, leaving you to bite your lip and almost ask for more. But instead, he reached down, grabbed your hair, and moved you to a standing position. You guided yourself with ease, and there was this deeper part of you that also enjoyed that. "What is wrong with me?" you asked yourself.

Moving you to sit in a chair, he spreads your legs apart. Looking over you, he licks his lips.

"Hands on your thighs, don't move them." He demands.

You nod in agreement. He wasn't going to demand the 'Sir' word just yet, but holy fuck was he going to enjoy it when it happened.

"Now I'm going to ask you a question, either say yes or say no. It's that simple. Got it?"

"Yes. I understand."

"Good. I'm going to hurt you, but it's not because I want to hurt you, it's because well... I want to see you in a different light, and because I enjoy it. Do you consent?" he looks over your face.

Taking a moment to understand, you've read some raunchy trashy books, so you knew not to compare the two, you weren't that naïve. You draw in a breath and you nod. "Yes. I consent." you finally state.

With a smirk across his lips, he nods. "Good girl. So long I've wanted to do this to you." He stated as he put his smoke out.

Walking behind the bar, he went to wash his hands, took a swig off a whiskey bottle, and made his way back toward you. Standing in front of you, he tilts his head. With a firm hand, he looks at you and throws it across your face. At first, you gasp, you close your eyes, your head whipped to the side. You whimper, not sure how to feel about it. You look to the ground, but he takes your chin and forces you to look back at him, and he smiles. Giving you a wink, and that's when you feel this sense of calm wash over you. It's like this switch was flipped in your mind. Submissive mode on... more so than before.

You didn't dislike the feeling on your skin, a hot sting. He brought his hand back, and it met your face again. Quickly moving to grab your chin, he leaned in and kissed your lips softly.

"Atta girl." he praised.

You felt this bubble of excitement rise inside you. It was this rush that moved through your veins like a hot liquid. Bubbling at the surface, wanting more.

"More, please." You ask.

He was happy to oblige. A little harder, be clipped your lip, but you didn't mind. The coppery taste on your tongue was sort of pleasant, a welcomed gift. You smile looking up at him. He looked at you, almost worried, but yet oddly calm. He smirked, leaning in he kissed you again, nipping at your now swollen lip. You feel your lower lips clench and quiver with want. Your breath was shaky against his lips.

His hand moves down your torso, moving to grip a breast before his hand moves down your apex right to your core. Your breath, staggered, your heart, pounding, your mind, stupid. You clench your lower walls and bite your lip, watching him, feeling him, desiring and needing him. You whimper. His fingers hover, and the heat from his flesh kisses your warm, swollen, needy bud.

When he finally brings his fingers to touch you, you gasp. You lock eyes with him, studying his baby blues as he begins to work your little swollen bundle of nerves. His free hand moves to jerk your head back by pulling your hair, as he hovers over you. His legs pressed against yours spreading your legs further as he worked you, exposing you to the pool table behind him.

But it was when he slid his fingers into you that your mind went more stupid. You let out a heavy moan as your eyes flutter, feeling his fingers work you. Leaning back in the chair, you let him take complete control, as he desired, and your body was no longer your own, and you were far from upset with that idea.

His fingers were like magic, but suddenly that all came to a stop. He looks at you, holding his fingers up as he looks at you. Bringing them to his lips he placed them in his mouth and smirked.

"Finger lickin good... Now... show me what you do with that pussy of yours when you think of me, because let's face it, Darlin, with all you've admitted, I know you've thought about me." He smirked as he moved back to lean against the pool table.

Looking at you he watches intently. Your hand moves to your bud as you slowly begin to work yourself. You watch him, intently, watching how he moves, how he breathes, how his lips curl with that crooked grin of his. You begin to remember how his lips tasted, how they felt against yours, how his fingers felt playing with you. You whimper as you bring your other hand up to grip your breast. Your breathing becomes heavy and you watch as the front of his pants grow tight.

Biting your lip you tasted the blood but your focus was on him.

"Atta girl, slow down, not too fast." he guides.

He readjusts against the pool table as he undoes his pants, freeing himself, he begins to stroke himself slowly. You slow down a bit, your toes curl against the floor as your legs spread even wider giving him a full view as you scoot forward a bit and expose your whole self even more.

"Just like that, keep going. What crosses your mind when you think of me?" he asked you.

Letting out a whimper you look over him as he strokes himself right in front of you. Dear fuck, his cock is god damned perfect.

"What you would feel like inside me." You state honestly with a soft whimper.

"What I'd feel like inside you huh? Well, maybe if you're a good girl, you'll find out." He mused as he moved his hand a little quicker against his cock. "Pick up a little speed." He demanded.

Without a shadow of hesitation, your fingers begin to work yourself quicker. You moan a little louder. His hand works himself faster, a little harder. He grunts, you whimper. It's a tandem of back and forth, a perfect give and take.

It feels like a lifetime, but a lifetime you'd never give back. He sees how wet you are, how you're beginning to drip off the edge of the chair. He snarls and walks to you, taking you by your hair he guides you to the floor and slips his cock between your lips, pressing to the back of your throat. He lets out a heavy groan.

Like a good girl, you take all of his cock, your tongue swirling around as he uses you like a little sex doll, fucking your face. He pulls you back, strings of spit from your mouth to his cock still connected as he slaps you across the face and shoves his cock down your throat again. Your eyes water and your breathing through your nose becomes heavy, and he does it again. Pulls you from his cock, slaps your face and brings your mouth back to his cock, and proceeds to fuck your throat and mouth, his grip on your hair tight it pulls at your scalp. Your moans and whimpers echo and vibrate through him and you as he uses your head to pleasure himself.

"Finger yourself." He snarls

You begin to do just that, your fingers working yourself as your mouth is being used. He smirks looking down at you before he's had enough of using your face he throws you back onto the floor and stands over you.

"Keep going." He demands.

And you do, you don't question him.

"Yes Sir." You state. Again, no question.

He's officially lost all control, at this point you both have. He works his cock faster, and you're watching every bit of it while you're moaning loudly just slightly below him as you work your bud, driving your fingers as deep as you can, feeling your wetness. You want to finish, you're right there, you almost cannot contain that hot explosion between your legs.

"No girl, you gotta beg for that finish." He states.

"Please, please let me cum" You plead.

He shakes his head. "Not yet... keep going... faster." He demands.

A soft whimper escapes your lips as you work yourself faster, you arch slightly your toes curled under you. You're rocking back and forth your hips buckle.

"Please... please Sir... I want to cum. Can I please. Please." You beg.

He looks down at you as he works his cock, and he feels his own eruption on the rise. He looks down at you and smirks.

"Open up." He states.

Opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out flat and you begin to taste those hot wet ribbons as he releases against your tongue, and over your face.

"Come on... Cum for me." He growls as he continues his facial finish.

You let out a heavy moan, a loud breathy gasp as your body begins to tremble. His cock tapped against your tongue as if saying he was finished with his finish. He watches you shake, almost a pleasure convulsion. You begin to giggle, swallowing what was in your mouth, and cleaning up your face. Licking it from your fingers.

"Thank you." you muse.

He looks over you and smiles. "No, thank you." he chuckles as he puts himself away.

Moving toward you, he scoops you up places you on the pool table, and looks over your face. He moves a moment and grabs a bottle of water from the bar fridge, and a clean, rag, getting it cool, he moves back toward you. Wiping your face, and neck, he starts to wipe you off and smiles handing you the water bottle.

"So I have a question." He states.

"Yes Sir?" you ask.

"How about you be my Old Lady... my ride or die... my one and only. My little pet... my little pain slut... my girl." He asked you looking over your face.

You look up at him, and this sense of perfection washes over you as you lean forward and kiss him sweetly. "I've waited a long time for that..."

"So is that a yes?" he asks with a smirk.

Nodding your head you chuckle place your arms around him and pull him in for another kiss. "That's a Yes." you whisper against his lips.

Smirking he presses his lips against yours and wraps his arms around you. Holding you tightly against him he leans back and looks over your face.

"Now, how about I take you back to my place, and show you how I feel inside you..." he smirked.

Nodding your head you chuckle. "Yes please, Sir." you whisper against his lips.

He kisses you again, and helps you get dressed before he takes you to his bike, hands you a helmet, and takes off in the direction of his place.

Everything that happened today, it felt like a dream, but this dream was one you'd remember. Only it wasn't a dream. This was real, and you were about to unlock a new chapter in your life.

[shockercoco]

The Lucky One

Benny Cross x reader

Warnings - jealous!reader, some swearing, smoking, mentions of smut, fluff

Word count - 2351

a/n - ngl I wanted to add smut but it just didn’t seem like it fit, also we need more benny imagines ppl👀 i hope you all enjoy :) — read part 2 here !

“I’ve told you this before, and I’ll tell you again – you are one lucky girl,” Kathy tells you from her spot next to you, nodding in Benny’s direction. “Or should I say that he’s the lucky one?”

You laugh as you follow her eyes, looking at Benny playing pool with some of the other Vandals in the corner. Just like any other weekend, you find yourself in this bar with all the other girlfriends as you watch Benny try to win a game of pool.

From the low lighting of the room, you couldn’t deny how good he looked as he leaned against the pool table, waiting his turn. You felt warmth bubble in your stomach, but you casually dismissed it. 

You definitely weren’t the only one who thought this, though, because some of the random floating girls had their eyes on him as well, staring at his tattooed arms that shined from the thin layer of sweat covering them. Some of them were even bold enough to go up to Benny and throw themselves at him, knowing that he was taken, but not caring. 

Everyone once in a while, Benny would find your eyes and shake his head in amusement from the unwanted attention.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” you smile at her.

“Whatever you say. All I know is that it will always amaze me that Benny somehow convinced you to go out with him, “ she shakes her head in fake disappointment. “What a shame.”

Another laugh makes its way past your lips, causing you to choke on your drink. Kathy wasn’t dating anyone from the Vandals, but she hung around them a lot since she was close with some of the members – and of course because you were always around.

You turn around once you feel a presence sit down in the seat on the other side of you, revealing Benny who is already looking back at you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders as he gives you a wink.

“What are you saying to her now, Kathy?” he asks with a smile as he looks past you to look at her.

“Nothing she didn’t already know,” she shrugs, giving you a sly smile.

“Which is…?” Benny raises an eyebrow at her.

“It’s girl talk. We can’t tell you, and you wouldn’t want to know either,” you chime in before Kathy could answer. She is notorious for saying something that would get under his skin, but it’s not like it's unwarranted because Benny does the same thing right back to her.

Benny’s about to say something else when someone interrupts him. You all turn to look at Cockroach and Benny’s ex, Kay. Well, it’s not really his ex because they didn’t really date, it’s just a girl he used to ‘have relations’ with a while ago and who is a regular at the bar.

You shoot Kathy a knowing look, to which she returns, before looking back at the standing pair.

“Hey, Benny, a few of us are headed out to have a smoke. Do you want to join?” Cockroach asks, as he playfully shakes Benny’s shoulders. He holds out a cigarette for Benny to take, Benny’s ex gives you a smile before looking over at Benny, giving him a hopeful one and wanting him to say yes.

“Sure,” Benny answers as he grabs the cigarette from his friend’s hand before looking at you and asking, “Do you want to join?”

You shake your head at the offer. He knows you hate smoking and only put up with it because of him, but he didn’t want to leave you out.

“No, you go ahead,” you tell him.

Benny nods, before getting up from his seat and following a small group. You watch as they walk away and out the double doors, though you could still see them through the glass window.

“Why didn’t you go with him?” Kathy asks as the two of you look outside. “If I was you and a girl my man used to have sex with and offered him to smoke, I would be right behind him.”

“It’s not like he’s completely out of my eyesight,” you tell her, your eyes still on Benny. You watch as he accepts a lighter Kay offers, leaning down to light the cigarette with it still in his mouth. He takes a deep breath in and then slowly exhales, a cloud of smoke floating out of his mouth.

“I’m not doubting him, believe me that man loves you too much to even give someone else a chance. I’ve never seen him like this. I am doubting that girl though.”

“I’m not too worried about her,” you point out, but you feel your body contradict itself as you watch Kay laugh at something and place a hand on Benny’s arm to keep herself steady.

You don’t know much about Kay, but from what you’ve seen around the hangout, she seemed nice. Well, nice enough. It’s not like she and Benny broke off on bad terms either, they just stopped seeing each other since Benny had decided to leave town for a couple months. And it’s not like she isn’t attractive.

That had always been one of your biggest fears when it came to your relationship – Benny just deciding to up and leave you without a moment’s notice, or just randomly drop you from his life. He seemed to be pretty happy and content with you, though, always wanting to be around you. That didn’t stop that fear from lingering in the back of your head.

You shake your head, an attempt to make your thoughts disappear, and take a sip from the drink you had been nursing.

Throughout the night, you stay around Kathy. The two of you have a couple more drinks as you both decide to play some rounds at the pool table since most of the guys had walked away. Some of the guys you and Kathy did  like were around to play as well. You joined in on some of the bets and even ended up winning some money, but some of the guys got upset.

While all of this was happening, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking out of the window at Benny. It was mainly to admire him, but you can’t deny the fact that you were trying to read everyone’s lips through the glass. I mean, you couldn’t help yourself. It seemed like Kay was constantly laughing at things Benny would say and vice versa. Then again, they could be pity laughs. You hope they were just pity laughs.

Benny didn’t come back inside until the night ended and people were beginning to head home. He said his goodbyes, even to Kay, before coming back inside and searching for you. His eyes land on you near the pool table with Kathy and he makes his way towards you, grabbing your jacket and his.

“You ready to go?” you hear Benny ask from behind you.

“Oh, yeah. I guess it is late,” you turn around to look at him, no Kay in sight. You put the pool stick back in its spot, Kathy doing the same. 

He hands you your jacket before putting on his leather one as you all exit the bar. 

“You two be careful getting home,” Kathy tells the two of you, mostly to Benny as a warning. He rolls his eyes in response.

“Relax, Kathy, she’ll be fine,” Benny says, handing you a helmet before starting the engine of his motorcycle.

You watch as Kathy walks away, heading towards one of the Vandals already on their bikes and asks for a ride home. You give her a wave as Benny pulls off, before wrapping your arms around his waist, hoping he doesn’t do anything too reckless on the way home.

You hate that you feel this way about Benny staying outside practically the whole night. It’s not like it’s a new thing for him since it's common to see some of the Vandals outside enjoying a cigarette. It’s just that you weren’t a huge fan of Kay being in his company, for an extended period of time at that. 

Again though, you shouldn’t care because he’s going home with you tonight and not her, but you still do.

When the two of you arrive back to your place, you quickly dismount the bike and head inside to take a shower, not wanting Benny to see your face because there’s no doubt that he’ll be able to see right through you. 

You hope he doesn’t try to join you in the shower either, since you’re not particularly in the mood at the moment. Thankfully he doesn’t and just sprawls out on the bed and waits for his turn in the bathroom.

While Benny’s in the shower, you decide to go downstairs and make a cup of tea to help you relax – reading a random newspaper while you wait for the water to boil on the stove. Hopefully this will help you get over the petty thoughts in your mind.

“I forgot to ask you, the guys are having this picnic in a couple of days and I was wondering if you wanted to come?” you hear Benny ask as he enters the kitchen. You glance out of the corner of your eye and take in his appearance – he’s wearing sweatpants and a tank top with his hair still damp.

“Yeah,” you answer, keeping your eyes on the paper on the counter. “Who’s going to be there? everyone?”

He starts listing off some names.

“And Kay?” you ask.

“I guess so, yeah,” Benny blinks, confused as to why you asked, but choosing to ignore it. 

It’s silent for a moment, neither of you saying anything next. Then you hear the sound of boiling water, so you move from leaning against the counter to pour the water into a cup, the tea bag already sitting inside.

Behind you, Benny is staring at you with his eyebrows furrowed, sensing something is up and trying to figure out what. He didn’t do anything tonight, at least he doesn’t think he did, so why did you seem upset? Was it because of someone back at the bar, one of the Vandals?

“What’s up with you?” Benny asks with a tilt of his head.

“Nothing, why?” you shrug, giving the water in a cup a small stir before grabbing your newspaper to read again.

“Because you’ve barely said anything since we left the bar, so what is it?” he asks as he steps closer to you.

“I just said something.”

“Oh wow, four whole sentences,” he sarcastically says. “I’m serious.”

You take a deep breath. “I’m fine, I’m just tired.”

Benny doesn’t believe it for a second. He steps closer to you and takes the newspaper from your hands, wanting you to look at him. He was going to get to the bottom of this.

“What are you doing?” you turn to look at him.

“No, what are you doing? What’s up with this little mood you’re in?”

“Benny, please, it’s too late for this,” you roll your eyes and turn away, reaching for your cup. So much for relaxation.

Benny takes that from your hands too, moving everything out of your reach and using his body to press you against the counter. It took him a minute, but he thinks he has an answer.

“What’s your problem?”

“Why did you ask if Kay was going to the picnic?” 

“I didn’t know it was a problem for me wanting to know who’s attending,” you fold your arms across your chest, you glare up at him.

“It’s not, but you never ask about her. So what is it really?”

“What are you trying to accuse me of?”

“We both know what,” Benny leans down closer to your face, placing his arms on the counter on both sides of you. “I just need you to say it.”

“Fuck you,” you stare into his eyes, his gaze just as intense.

And fuck him for being able to read you like a book.

“So it’s true, then?” He raises his eyebrows in amusement.

There was no way in hell you were going to say you were jealous.

But Benny will. “There’s no need for this facade anymore. You’re jealous, and that’s okay,” He smirks.

You just stare back at him, your jaw clenched and slightly embarrassed.

“And what’s even funnier is that it’s because of someone like her,” he laughs.

You don’t say anything, but look away from his gaze.

“Oh come on, baby, don’t be like that,” He told you, moving his head to try and meet your gaze, but you don’t budge and continue to stare at the wall. “You would think that the fact that I’m sleeping in the house with you is confirmation enough that you’re the one I care for. Not to mention the countless times I’ve left you speechless in the bedroom.”

“Benny!” you gasp, shoving him away from you, but he just comes right back. 

“What made you jealous of her?” He questions, his smirk disappearing and his face becoming more serious.

“Nothing important,” you tell him, trying to get him to drop this conversation. You really were tired, and buddy wanted to go to sleep after an eventful night, but it’s Benny.

“No, no, no. Tell me,” He shakes his head before adding, “Don’t make me force it out of you.”

You hesitate for a moment. “She was practically all over you outside the bar, and you didn’t seem to have a problem with it,” you admit.

“I noticed that too, but I didn’t want to make a scene,” he says and you shoot him another glare. “But since you seem to care so much, I’ll remember to make one next time.”

He glanced down at your lips for a second before leaning in to close the gap between the two of you, but you move your head out of the way and press your finger against his lips.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” He mumbles. “What now?”

Like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[nerdy-novelist017]

A Date (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 3)

Thank you so much for all your kind words, likes and reblogs on my last two posts! You guys are keeping me so entertained with the comments!

Ugh I rewrote this like 3 times :( I just couldn't get it right and I'm still not sure how I feel about it OH WELL

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 2.2K

Summary- You were sure you'd never see Benny Cross again. . . you were wrong.

******

“Benny’s been asking for ya.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you nearly dropped the receiver into the bowl of cake batter. Kathy’s statement came out of left field, the two of you having been discussing the latest news on the block – what kind of lipstick Sheryl Dickie uses that somehow always lasts an entire night of bar hopping. “What?”

“Yeah, says he’s real desperate to ask you somethin’,” Kathy’s tone was flippant, but you’ve known her long enough to hear the excitement she’s hiding in her voice.

“What could he possibly have to talk to me about?” You asked as you set the whisk down and moved around the kitchen counter to peak down the hallway towards the living room where you knew your father sat in his large recliner, watching a rerun of Bonanza. 

“I dunno, maybe you should come to another meetin’ so you can find out.”

“No, I’m not going to anymore of those.” you declared firmly, yanking the cord so that the phone was up to your other ear. “I don’t know how you can stand being around those guys.”

Kathy laughed, the static spiking. “C’mon, they’re fun, and you know it. Did you tell your parents how you got to ride on the back of a Vandal’s bike, and not just any Vandal!”

“No!” you squeaked. “And they’re never going to know. It was a one-time thing.”

“It doesn’t have to be. They’re having another meetin’ tonight. I’m sure Benny could pick you up–”

“Well, I can’t tonight,” you cut her off. “I have plans.”

“What plans?”

“My date.”

“Date?” Kathy asked, voice lowering dubiously. “With who?”

“Pete,” you said quietly. 

“Who?” she asked again.

You sighed. “Pete? The guy from Mama’s church?” 

Pete was introduced to you last week by your mother who was introduced to him by his mother. It was a train of people who wanted to matchmake, to see young love blossom before their eyes, even if it was forced. Pete was nice enough and he had kind eyes that sat behind wide-rimmed glasses. You’d been on one other date with him. He was an engineering student in his first year and he talked a lot about his school. He liked school. And he liked to golf nearly every weekend (his family belonged to the country club on the upper side of town). And mostly – he talked a lot about himself. He seemed to really like himself too.

“Oh, okay.” Kathy sounded unimpressed.

“My family really likes him. My dad likes him.”

“Yeah?” 

At her unenthusiastic response, you added quickly, “And I’m excited!”

“Is that why you’re stress-baking?” Kathy inquired as if she could sense it.

You glance down at the bowl of cake batter. No, it wasn’t, actually. You weren’t nervous to go on your second date with Pete; he didn’t make her nervous, didn’t fill your belly with those pesky butterflies. Pete was . . . just Pete. No, you were stress-baking because of a certain blonde Bikerider whose ocean blue eyes wouldn’t leave your thoughts all night. You were up, tossing and turning, replaying every moment with him like a broken record. It was one ride, the logical side of your mind had to say, and you’ll never see him again. You allowed yourself the rest of the night to think about him, and then you wouldn’t set aside any more time. 

In theory, it was a nice strategy. But when you woke up today, your thoughts were absolutely clouded with him and his incredibly direct eye-contact and his deeply rich voice and his hand touching your thigh and his lips encasing the cigarette—

You were doing it again! It had been one ride! One ride and a few hours. One ride where your arms wrapped so tightly to his solid form. One ride where he showed you places you’d never seen before, from a point of view you’d never been before. One ride where you felt as though you were seeing the world in a whole new light. One ride that you couldn’t get out of your head.

“Yes, because of Pete,” you replied evenly. “And I’m going to have a good time with him tonight.”

There’s a smile in her voice when she says, “Okay, sure. Say, what restaurant did ya say he was takin’ you?”

********

Thanking the driver, you stepped out of the cab, your heels connecting softly with the concrete of the sidewalk. Taking a moment to smooth any wrinkles on your pink dress, your gaze fluttered across the street to the restaurant Pete told you to meet him at. 

Ricardo’s was one of the most expensive restaurants in town, somewhere you never found yourself frequenting, but Pete absolutely gushed about their food. Coming from old money, Pete had no hesitation picking here for your second date. Pete’s family was well off, that’s what your mother liked to point out. He was a good boy with good money. He would provide for you, buy you a nice house with a picket fence in the front yard. A safe bet for the same routine life that nearly all the women of your family had spanning back several generations.

You made your way across the street, eyes taking in the lineup of expensive cars parked out front: Mercedes, Rolls Royce, Cadillac . . . Harley-Davidson motorcycle. You did a double-take at the shiny metal glinting underneath the streetlamp, eyes traveling upwards to the figure leaning casually against it. He was looking at the restaurant, head turned to give a generous view of his profile, and he hadn’t noticed you yet. For a split second, you considered taking advantage of that and booking it into the front door before he had a chance to stop you. But some deeply intrinsic part of you yearned to memorize every detail of him and you simply couldn’t look away. As a moth drawn to flame, you were drawn to him, to the golden streaks of his hair, down to the strong slope of his nose, the curve where his top lip sat so perfectly against the bottom – even with the cigarette tucked between. He wore long sleeves under his club jacket and the same distressed jeans from your last encounter. Half shrouded in the darkness of night, with the orange glow of the streetlight nearest to him, he looked like a beacon of mystery. Abandoning your previous course, you turned and approached him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked once you were close enough for him to hear you. 

Benny turned and a smile broke out over his features, eyes sweeping down your figure. “Do you dress like that all the time or only when you’re gonna see me?” He asked, nodding to your dress and heels. 

You stopped about 6 feet away from him (a reasonable distance), hopping up onto the sidewalk. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“What a chance encounter,” he proclaimed with a secretive wink that sent your stomach on a roller coaster ride. 

“Chance encounter, or Kathy’s loose lips?” you quipped and he rubbed a hand over his mouth to keep from smiling, fingers grazing through the blonde, recently-trimmed facial hair.  

“Why are you here?” You asked again, this time a touch quieter.  

“Well, I have a coupon,” he replied simply.

You couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips, your brows raising incredulously. “A coupon? To Ricardo’s?”

“Mm-hm,” he nodded, straight-faced.

You rolled your eyes at his antics. He had a coupon, your ass. A well-dressed elderly couple walked past you both on the sidewalk, each shooting a look of disapproval toward the dirty young man leaning against his death machine. Benny seemed not to notice them, his gaze still on you. 

“Why are you here?” he questioned.

“I–I have a date,” you replied and desperately tried to ignore the heat rising to your face at the admission. “But something tells me you already know that.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, looking down to the ground for all of five seconds before his gaze flashed back up to you. “Wanna go for a ride, Little Bunny?”

“What? No.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Why not?”

“Well, I just told you I'm here for a date,” you replied with a tilt of your head. 

Benny shrugged. “So?”

You shook your head but he continued, “Why are you wastin’ your time with dates when we’re gonna be married anyway?”

Your mouth fell open in surprise. The nerve on this guy! Part of you was surprised that he still had it in his head of marrying you. You thought maybe he had a few too many beers last night or was just smooth-talking you so that you’d let him sleep with you. But here he was, showing up on the sidewalk, giving you those puppy eyes. You’d already denied him once. Could he not take a hint?

“I don’t recall you ever asking.” you pointed out, feeling emboldened by his casual attitude. 

He perked up at that, tossing the remainder of his cigarette to the ground. “You want me to ask?”

You fought to remain neutral-faced at his playfulness. “No, thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . . I have a date.” One that you were excited about before you caught sight of Benny and your train of thoughts completely derailed.

Benny held his hands up in a conciliatory way and you turned on your heel, leaving him out on the streets as you made your way inside.

******

The clock on the far wall seemed to be mocking you, minutes ticking by mercilessly. You resisted looking at it, instead planting your chin in the palm of your hand as you watched the door, waiting for Pete’s familiar face to appear. It had been over an hour. He was over an hour late for your date. 

Each time the waitress returned to fill your glass of water, you told yourself a new lie. He was just stuck at work, he’ll be here soon. He was running behind getting ready, he’ll be here soon. There must have been an emergency, he’ll be here soon. He wouldn’t stand you up, he’ll be here soon. 

But as the seconds passed, you sunk further and further into your seat, humiliation forming a ball in your stomach. Surely, he had gotten his days mixed up? He really seemed to enjoy your first date, so why was he nowhere to be seen. Every time someone walked through the front door, the little bell chiming above, you glanced up, certain it would be him. But it never was. At first, you were angry. How could he have the audacity to leave you hanging without so much as calling you before he left if he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it. Then a bitter thought came to mind: what if he stood you up because he didn’t want to go out with you again. What if you weren't good enough for him. You had spent your whole life on the never ending hamster wheel of trying to be good enough for everyone else. Was your hard work even noticed?

Recognizing the sting of unshed tears, you looked down at the napkin folded neatly in your lap, blinking rapidly in an attempt to get control of yourself. The bell chimed over the front door, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at it, not wanting to feel the crushing disappointment of another wealthy customer walking inside and not your date. 

Then a flash of dark clothing popped across from you and you looked up just as Benny Cross slid into the empty seat. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. He leaned forward, elbows of his leather jacket propped over the tablecloth.

“Pete not show?” he asked, expression solemn. 

Your ears burned and you shook your head. Too preoccupied by your embarrassment, it didn’t even occur to you that you had never told him Pete’s name. 

He frowned and he genuinely appeared upset. Unable to maintain his direct gaze, you glanced away and caught the eyes of everyone else in the restaurant staring wide-eyed at the two of you. You realized that it was Benny who they were gawking at. And you didn’t seem to notice until now that he looked totally out of place with his worn clothes and dirty hands. As if sensing their not-so-subtle staring, Benny turned and looked about the room.

“What’s with all the stiff shirts in here?” he asked, sending you a conspiratorial glance. “I think they might be intimidated by you.”

“Me?” You furrowed your brow. It definitely wasn’t you they were looking at. In fact, the only person who was staring at you was Benny. 

“Yeah, I bet they’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you. Most people haven’t and they don't know how to act when they do.” He grinned and you had to look down at your lap as heat rose to your face.  

“I guess Pete wouldn’t agree,” you muttered quietly, feeling the anger in your heart fizzle out to meer disappointment. 

“Fuck Pete,” Benny said passionately, causing an elderly woman behind you to gasp and you giggled, shocked at his language. Benny was bad, he was trouble . . . but he was also fun, and you couldn’t hide your eagerness as he leaned his arms across the table, moving closer to address you privately. 

“You wanna get out of here, Bunny?” His question sent a gust of anticipation through your veins. 

“Yeah,” you admitted, smiling shyly. 

He stood quickly and you followed in suit. Then he did something that caused a wave of butterflies to roll through your stomach; he reached out and clasped his hand with you, interlocking fingers tightly. You grinned, excitement making you feel light and airy as he pulled you through the restaurant, past all the staring faces and harsh whispers and out the door into the night which felt alive with a whole new feeling of possibilities. 

*Tag List*

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe  @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan

[xxanaduwrites]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a residue series installment ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

honey, are you comin’?

previous part: sweet talkin’ | from the hive: session 1

✎ elementary-teacher!reader (miss.honey) x biker!benny 🏍️

summary: in which benny finds honey again. this time near a honeycomb, hopin’ for a taste on the road ;) (p.s.: if you were wonderin’, yes — the title of this was so inspired by måneskin)

warnings: not much of anything besides some minor talks of cruelty towards children, peeps being judgmental as hell, & smoking. they’re subtly flirting here basically. it’s cute! that’s really it. x

author’s note: oh my goodness! you have no idea how STUNNED i’ve been by all the love miss.honey!benny have been getting so far. fully was not expecting this. deadass wrote sweet talkin’ for fun. no thoughts, head empty type beat. just wanted to thank you honeys so so much. i can’t thank ya enough i fear! i literally still can’t wrap my head around this, but i love you all sm & can’t wait to share more with you! 🍯🐝🫶

word count: 2.7k

💌 requests are open, send ‘em honey 💋

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Another unbearable wave of heat managed to remain the very next day. Your students squirming against their metal chairs, antsy as ever for a reprieve. And so were you too. Thankfully, it just so happened to be your turn as fellow recess monitor with one or your fellow co-workers, Miss. Margie. Marge just so happened to be a newly breaded fresh faced teacher just like yourself. You enjoyed her company, more so than the older teachers who were rather cruel to the students. Especially when they did something wrong. Marge wasn’t cruel so to speak but she was a tough cookie, putting her foot down when needed. You two as a duo were rather perfect for the school grounds. You as the comfort go to when a knee was scraped, and Marge as the tough love go to when a particular student needed a stern talking to.

You worked well together, and it showed. Your relief was rather prominent when you stepped out the back door near the playground. An immediate swarm of giggles and chatter from small voices buzzed about, and you couldn’t help but smile as you adjusted your eyes to the sun, protected under your heart shaped sunnies. It didn’t take you long to find Marge who was already planted near the monkey bars with her arms crossed over her chest like a drill sergeant. Considering her father’s status as a war vet, by no means was it shocking to you or anyone else for that matter to see her in such a state.

“Hi Margie,” you greeted her once materialized next to her. “How’s it goin’?”

Margie's clear concentration dropped at the sound of your voice. “Oh no wonder,” she commented without looking at you. Her brows shot up in genuine intrigue.

Your honey coated lips parted in confusion instantly. “Huh?”

“Your three o’clock, Hun.” Margie tilted her head to the right subtly, directing you to her line of sight. A sight that made your heart curl into itself in a warm beat. Right behind those chain-linked fences that kept the kids contained was Uncle Benny. Yet, today his status as Uncle appeared to be rather amiss. Instead of Johnny’s car flanked near the curb, he was leaning against a neat Harley Davidson. The same one you saw him on that mornin’. You figured he was dropping off the girls or somethin’, but your curiosity got the better of you when you saw Mrs. Davis with them instead.

Now in the no parking zone, he stood out like the sorrest of thumbs. Practically a puzzle piece thrown into the wrong box. With no thoughts behind those pretty blue eyes of his besides you.

“That biker of yours stood up like a torpedo as soon as you walked out,” your co-worker added.

You took a moment to adjust your glasses, moving them to the tip of your nose to get a better look. Sure as shit, you weren’t having a heat stroke. It was really him. He was still here. Had he been out here since the mornin’ or left to come back? And if he was here for you like Margie said — why? You were certain he wasn’t much of a fan of you the day prior.

“He’s — He’s not my biker,” you mangled out, words twisting off your tongue as butterflies danced around your tummy.

Margie snorted. “I hate to break it to you, Hun. Lookin’ like he is now.” She paused a moment, shifting her footing as she spotted a youngin’ running roughly across the pavement, almost banging into another student. “Hey — watch where you’re goin’. Don’t push it Mikey!” She reprimanded before fixing herself upright and asking you, “What was all that about yesterday anyways?”

“What y’mean?” You questioned, not quite sure what she was going on about.

“You know — lettin’ the Davis girls go with ‘em. Caused a bit of an upheaval with the parents apparently. Heard all about it in the break room this mornin’. Doesn’t sound like Principal Rubs is real happy about it either.”

Your ears couldn’t believe what you were hearing. What business did the parents have putting their two cents in about somebody else’s family members? As for Principal Rubin, well, she was Principal Rubin after all. There wasn’t much to it there. The damn woman was a stickler with the sprinklers yesterday after all. Never a ball of fun as far as you were concerned.

“Why wouldn't I?” You challenged, becoming rather defensive.

“The guy pulled up like a maniac all greasy and shit. Almost gave everyone a heart attack,” Margie reasoned, her features churning in disgust.

You knew if he was some clean cut military guy in full uniform, she wouldn’t have made a comment at all, which kind-of pissed you off. Sure his clothes were lookin’ as if they hadn’t seen a washing machine in a cycle of days, but hey — what did that have to do with character? There were plenty of people who gave this outward canvas of perfectionism, far off from who they truly were deep down inside. You knew that, and you saw it every single day within the cruel clusters of your modern society. You saw it in the faces of your Ma and Pa when you didn’t fit the supposed mold they were trying to conform you to.

“So? He’s their Uncle, Marge,” you countered, defenses climbing high. “Did you ever think that maybe the man was runnin’ late? Worryin’ about the girls. That’s why he was speedin’.”

Margie sighed. “Not with that Vandals shit on his vest, but whatever you wanna believe, Hun.”

It went quiet between you two then. A clear indication that this conversation wasn’t gonna get the two of you anywhere.

“I should go talk to him,” you announced, snapping the awkward silence in half. There was no denying that you were now suddenly eager to find out what all this was about.

“Yuh should. If you don’t I will, and I doubt that will end well,” she joked, her eyes sparkling in amusement. Oh and she was right about that. Knowing Margie, you knew the idea of her approaching Benny would formulate a recipe for disaster.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the mental image of such a scene. But also — you were utterly glad for this newfound banter popped open from a bottle of tension. “Alright Colonel, I’ll be back,” you quipped, before heading across the playground.

You could feel his eyes burning across your form on your journey to the edge of the property, your tummy flipping again in a bit of nerves and excitement. A part of you felt somewhat disappointed when you found yourself coming to a halt — stuck behind the monstrous fence that separated you from him, while another was glad for some security. You weren’t quite sure what his motive was, but knew it couldn’t be anything bad. He was just sitting here, smoking and minding his own business. Well — minding you.

“The girls don’t get out of school for another few hours, y’know,” you said matter-of-factly, eyeing him through the grates of the fence that reminded you far too much of a honeycomb.

He didn’t say much of anything, just raised a brow as you as he took one last drag of his cigarette. You watched as he put it out against the pavement, amongst a garden of other buds with his boot. Your suspicions were coming into fusion then, the realization that he’d been planted here for as long as your delusions imagined.

What could he possibly want from an innocent elementary school teacher like you?

He reached for that packet of Marlboros in his vest pocket all over again, clearly on a chain smoking spree. “Y’want?” He asked, stopping in his tracks. Those lean fingers of his calloused to the bone holding out a fresh cigarette in your direction. A cigarette that he’d been saving for you just in case.

You looked around for a moment, not quite sure what to do. The coast seemed to be clear though. Margie looked busy with some of the kids. Had a cluster of ‘em around her with her finger wagging about in every which direction. With her eyes no longer trained on Benny and you, and your form more than halfway across the school yard, you figured it wouldn’t hurt. Besides, you were having a day and could really use a cigarette. “Sure.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

Benny re-adjusted his stance, shoulders straight as he sauntered the sidewalk to meet you against the fence. His rough knuckles brushed across your polished ballet slipper fingers as he passed you the cigarette though the honeycomb, a sweetness shooting up your arm in an instance. You left it sticking out for a moment so he could light it up for you, and you could feel his hot breath fanning against your face. The casual interaction felt rather intimate in the moment, and you were more than happy when you got to take a step back on your first drag.

“Thanks,” you voiced your appreciation as he popped a fresh cig against his lips, now lighting up his own. You couldn’t help but notice that he had a sweet little freckle etched into his bottom lip. No wonder he had beautiful lips, you thought.

Surely, they’d be sweet to the kiss.

Jutting your hip out, you tapped your foot against the dry grass in impatience. “You stalkin’ me or somethin’?” You ripped off the bandage then, getting right into the real stuff. It was too hot out to sugarcoat anything any longer. Plus, the more you stood here the more Marg would get curious, and you’d be caught slacking on the job.

His lip curled up to the side naturally, just like it had yesterday when you introduced yourself to him. “Ain’t a stalker,” he confirmed, re-pocketing his lighter.

You found his candid response refreshing’. Naturally a honey rumblin’ laugh tumbled out of you “Good to ‘ear. My co-worker y’see ‘round over there?” Flicking the residue on the end of your cigarette out of the way, you pointed at her simultaneously. “She thinks ya are. Doesn’t appreciate the loitering.”

He shook his head then, long pretty eyelashes fanning his lower lids as he puckered his lips against the cig. His eyes squinted across the campus for only a second until his gaze landed right back on you. You in another denim overall number with a whole new canvas of embroidered fun. This time, knowing that you were gonna be out in the yard come afternoon, you opted on a classic jean overall. There was always the possibility of having to kneel on the grassy ground or near the sand pit, having to scoop up a youngin’ that refused to leave the playground. You learned your lesson rather quickly within your first few months of teaching. Tripping over yourself in such a situation left a tear in your favorite skirt. A skirt you still frowned about every time you found a certain piece in your closet that would make the perfect pair.

Funnily enough, if Benny knew of such a thing he would’ve made sure the same exact piece of clothing was at your doorstep and back in your closet before the thought crossed your sweet little mind.

But you didn’t know that. Not yet, that is.

And Benny — well Benny wasn’t payin’ as much attention as he would’ve liked to what you were sayin’, and he wasn’t quite interested in Margie anyways. His interests lied with you, and in his defense, the sight of you in your heart shaped sunnies wasn't helping the cause one bit. It was hard to take you seriously when you looked that stinkin’ cute. Made him wanna put you in his jacket pocket for safe keeping. And hell was he itching to just drive his bike right through the fuckin’ fence to break the barrier between you two. He was still beatin’ himself up for not taking your hand when you offered it to him yesterday. Hence why he was here, stakin’ you out. Hoping to fix his mistake.

Because the last thing he ever wanted to do was fuck this up with you.

Instead of enertainin’ your comment or makin’ a move to leave upon your far from subtle hints, far from linear to your own wishes, he changed the topic completely. “What time y’get outta ‘ere?”

You took a long drag of your cigarette, to calm your anxieties. The smoke circled ‘round your face for a moment before it traveled across the fence, reachin’ for Benny. Ironically, it was as if the smoke mirrored your desires of clinging onto the man in front of you. “‘round the same time as the girls, a little after,” you replied, curiosity adding, “what’s it to ya?”

“Wanna go for a ride?” He inquired casually. As if he was just stoppin’ by and hadn’t been sitting here for a good three quarters of the school day waitin’ for you.

The simple question spilling from those pretty lips of his made you melt in an instant. If it wasn’t for the obvious heat as a buffer to such a state, your mind would’ve found him as the culprit. “Where?”

“‘round.” He shrugged, not offering much of a plan. His casual demeanor remained concrete to his form.

An innocent smirk stretched across your face, blooming the apples of your cheeks and creasing the plane of your forehead. Now you were the one to flex amusement against a cylinder wedged between honey glossed lips. Now Benny was the one to be somewhat grateful for the honeycomb — if you will. Cause if the fence wasn’t there, he knew he wouldn’t be able to contain himself. He’d have your honey gloss all over his lips, tasting your sweetness without a second thought. Without caring about Margie or the students on the playground. Without caring about anyone really, but you.

Always you.

Perhaps anyone else would be rather suspicious of a plan with really no plan at all. Sure Margie would need a bulleted itinerary on fresh stationary, color coated and attached to a clipboard respectfully. But you — no, you appreciated his carefree mentality. It was peaceful in comparison to the stressing atmosphere that surround you on a daily basis, dotting on the kiddos in your classes, worryin’ constantly about ‘em.

Two could play this game, you thought.

Just at the end of your cigarette, your pretty fingers reached between a ring in the honeycomb, motioning it back to him. “Would ya put this out f’me?” You asked sweetly, mascara coated lashes batting about behind those obvious heart eyes of yours. “Don’t want the kids to find it in the grass.”

“Mhm,” Benny hummed, finding your concern for this children too fuckin’ cute. How could he ever say no to a sweet thang like you? He just couldn’t.

Your fingers grazed his as he took it from you, a touch that you found yourself thanking your faith for allowing you to bask in again.

This time he not only put out his cigarette, but yours too in the garden of buds that would blossom into a metaphor. A metaphor that had you joining his crew. Becoming a part of the club, joining his family, and fulfilling your wifely duties of planting a seed or two more along the way. Growin’ Benny some baby honeys of your very own.

Your lack of a reply to his offer didn’t sway him by any means, only fueled his fire tenfold. Turning on his heel then, you couldn’t help but frown, thinkin’ your hesitance turned him impatient and over the prospect completely. Especially when you watched him mount his bike and rev the engine, ready to ride away without another word. But Benny — no he still had somethin’ to say, and he was gonna say it alright. “I’ll see ya out front after school, Honey.” He decided, “I’ll be waitin’.”

The sound of your nickname rolling off his tongue — as smooth as honey sliding down your throat in a soothing tea — was all you needed to make your decision.

With your fun little backpack — straps resting against your shoulders — absolutely decked out in pins and keychains alike, you’d spot him at dismissal, and he’d be waitin’. Waitin’ for you to come. Wonderin’ if you were comin’.

Askin’ himself ‘Honey, are you comin’?’

Of course you would. You always would with Benny, no matter what.

And when you mounted his bike, your body molding into his like you were made for him, and your hands wrapping around his waist, Benny’s mistake proved to be no more. Suddenly, everything felt right in the world.

Right because you were one step closer to being his honey.

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hi-ya, i hope you enjoyed part 2! there’s so much more to come. expect a from the hive 🎙️🐝 installment real soon :)

also to note, my requests are open for any miss honey x benny cross works + any convos about these two in general. don’t be shy honey, i’m all for yapping in the asks.

+ don’t forget to comment if you’d like be added to “da bee hive” (my version of da tag list)

smoochies. all da love xanadu 💋

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[bodyelectr1c]

keep talkin’

austin butler as benny cross

just smut, no plot

i love benny, i was enamoured in the cinema

warnings: degradation, rough sex, possessiveness, a little overstim if you squint, not proofread, dirty talk

no spoilers for the bikeriders movie :)

benny cross wasn’t much of a talker

from the day you’d met him, he always let you do the talking. he’d let you go on and on without more than a few words, and you didn’t mind it, and clearly, nor did he.

but when it came to sex, benny cross talked.

talked you through your orgasm, talked dirty to you, degraded you, the whole lot. his voice was deep and rough during sex, a result of the years of smoking and riding, and he took the utmost advantage of this.

from the first time he claimed you, bullied his fat cock into you, saw how you reacted when he talked down to you, told you how much of a slut you were, how tight you were, writhing and babbling on his cock while he split you open, he knew he had found his favorite game.

benny reveled in it, got off on it, honestly. the way you melted under his words, in the way your body betrayed your mind's resistance, the way you’d squirm and try to stifle your moans, trying to hide the way his degradation turned you on.

"look at you," he'd tsk, feigning disapproval “fucking desperate for my cock. you need it, don’t you baby?” his grip punishing on your hips, forcing you to take every inch. "such a needy little slut, can't get enough of my cock, can you? always so tight for me, always so wet."

with benny, every thrust was deliberate, each stroke accompanied by a litany of degrading affirmations. "you love this, don't you? being my fuck toy, my little whore. look at how you're dripping for me. pathetic." he’d spit out between ragged moans

you'd gasp, the shame mixing with pleasure, making your body respond even more fervently to his rough handling. he'd grab your hair in fistfuls, pull your head back, making sure you saw the depravity in your own eyes reflected in the mirror.

"fuck- cmon, take it all, you fucking minx. you were made for this, weren't you? for me, to be used, to be filled up with my cum. fucking say it." he’d prompt you as he jackhammered the fat head of his cock further in you, smacking against your cervix repeatedly with a squelching sound.

and you would, because he made you, because his voice alone made you almost cum on the spot.

because the power in his voice left no room for anything else but obedience.

"yes, benny, fuck- ‘m yours, need your cock, need to get fucked, love your cock, please cum in me, pleasepleaseplease." you barely even knew what you were saying, you just knew you needed him, needed what he could give you.

he’d let out a loud, deep moan, music to your fucking ears, the sound sent shivers down your spine even as your body betrayed you again, arching into his touch, seeking more.

he'd smack your ass, hard, leaving his mark on you as a reminder of who you belonged to, relishing in your screams.

"that's right. you’re mine. no one else can fuck you like this, stuff their cock so deep in you, make you forget your own name. no one else can make you cum like i do.” his voice would begin breaking, his moans choked as he neared the edge. “cmon baby, cum on my cock, cum for me, m so close. don’t- fuck, don’t forget this feeling baby. don’t forget how good i stretch you, fill you. you feel full baby? stuffed?”

all you could do was nod, frantically as your thighs shook and your orgasm washed over you, and despite all he’d say, benny would hold you close, soothe your body through the orgasm as it wracked through you, whispering praises and endless filthy words into your ear.

"that's my good girl, my perfect little slut. look at you, falling apart for me, taking every inch like you were made for it."

he'd hold you tighter, his thrusts growing more erratic, more desperate, each one fucking you further into the mattress, fucking deeper into your already overstimulated cunt. his big, rough hands, callused from years on the bike, would wander over your body, leaving eventual bruises and marks in their wake, reminding you of your place, of his dominance.

"fuck, baby," he'd groan, the desperation in his voice eminent. "'m gonna fill you up, gonna pump you full of my cum. you want that, hm? want me to cum in your pretty cunt, baby?"

you'd nod, barely coherent, lost in the haze of pleasure and degradation, along with the comedown of your high. "yes, benny, please. need it, need you s’ bad."

his grip would tighten impossibly more, breath hot against your neck as he thrust deeper, harder, faster, driving himself to the brink.

"take it all, baby. so good for me, gonna mark you as mine."

with a final, guttural growl, benny would bury himself to the hilt, body shuddering as he came, flooding you with his release. the feeling of him pulsing inside you would trigger another wave of pleasure, leaving you trembling and spent beneath him.

benny would never let you go immediately.

he'd stay buried deep inside you, breathing heavy, his hands still possessive on your skin. he'd savor the moment, the way your body molded to his, the way you fit him perfectly.

"good girl," he'd murmur, his voice softer now. "you did so good for me. you’re perfect baby,” he’d punctuate his sentence with a soft kiss to your lips, before pulling out, exuding another moan from you.

he’d smirk, rolling over to the bedside table, already reaching for a cigarette.