#benny x the vandals
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(Way Down Inside) Honey You Need It
gifs by @bin1es
Baby, My Tongue Goes Numb (rated E)
He’s kneeling in the centre of the pub, knees spread a little, cock aching in the confines of his jeans. His hands are tied behind his back, not tightly, but restraining him enough that he can’t really move. All he can do is kneel there, mouth open, in full view of every member of the club who’s here tonight.
on ao3
#benny cross#benny x johnny#benny x the vandals#honey you need it#c writes#the bikeriders#aka throat goat benny#aka gag fest
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ive been saying this
yknow, I will say, we need more Benny Cross x m!readers, we need more Johnny Davis x m!readers—
but honestly at the main root of it, we just need more Benny x Johnny fics.
they had a whole ass like gay scene to themselves in the dark WE SHOULD BE GOING CRAZY??
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Benny as a dad I — he would be such a girl dad.
g'ah - i can see him being both :(
i can also see him bein' so fuckin' scared because "m'fucked up, y'know? jus' no good. best thing i ever did was somehow get you n'now we got this little one on the way and what if i'm no good at bein' a daddy?" he'd cry over it :( but then your lil sprout would come around and benny learns that bein' a parent means healin' that big part of him that still hurts every now n'then :( he's there for every first: the smile, the giggle, the tooth. n'when they're a lil bigger benny teaches 'em to ride a trike because, "gotta start small, we'll work' ya up to the panhead, though. don' worry. got fifteen years or so, plenty'a time." he teaches 'em that it's okay to cry. tells 'em to be like you n'lead with their heart. kisses every skinned knee, sits elbow to elbow on the sofa watchin' sunday morning cartoons, keeps a picture of 'em in his wallet :( dad!benny you will always be in my heart
#the boys would def get the babe their own lil vandals jacket#imagine sonny cal wahoo corky zipco and johnny goin' to a seamstress like “can you possibly alter this to fit a newborn???”#clo answers#austin butler#benny cross#austin butler x reader#benny cross x reader#the bikeriders#the bikeriders x reader#benny boy :')#✍🏼
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The way he’s allowed to defile *sigh*
#austin butler#austin butler fanfiction#austinbutler#austin butler fandom#Benny#Benny x#the bikeriders#the vandals
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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*
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#i need a biker boyfriend#benny cross#benny x bunny#benny cross x reader#the bikeriders#benny the bikeriders#fluff#imagine#austin butler x reader#austin butler#benny x reader#motorcycle#austin butler fandom#austin bulter x you
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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 :)
#austin butler#austin butler x reader#austin butler imagine#austin butler smut#the bikeriders#benny cross x reader#benny cross
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⋆ ˚。⋆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 💋
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
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.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
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
#miss honey x benny cross#benny cross x reader#the bikeriders fanfiction#benny the bikeriders#johnny the bikeriders#johnny davis#benny cross#austin butler#tom hardy#austin butler fanfiction
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Come Back Together
Benny Cross x reader
Summary in bullet points:
Now that Benny is back in your life, he is trying to be a better husband
Benny is insecure about his relationship and a barfight ensues
Reader is pregnant (three months)
Benny does a bit of pining and is emotionally vulnerable
Fluffiness
Part 2 of Come Back Knockin’
Notes/Warnings: *Spoiler free*, angst and fluff, relationship struggles, physical altercations (fist fight), mention of blood and injury, mention of pregnancy, mention of alcohol, cursing, kissing, happy stuff, typos. I think that’s it. This took me forever to write for some reason and I was weirdly stressed about it. tf is wrong with me, right? Anyway…
Words: alright no one freak out…it’s 4300. Idk why it’s a lot longer than the first part but I always do that. If you’re willing to venture onward, I appreciate it :)
Benny Cross Masterlist
Part 3: Together and More
He stares at you incessantly. Which isn’t out of the ordinary—he used to stare at you all the time—but there’s something else to it now. He stares as if he thinks you’ll disappear the second he takes his eyes off of you. Like you'll slip through his fingers. Ironic, really, since disappearing in the blink of an eye is more his thing.
“Can I make you something?” he asks, staring at you from his chair while you pull a carton of eggs from the fridge. “You should be sitting instead of me.”
“You don’t know how to cook, Benny,” you state matter-of-factly, turning your back to him as you switch on the stove and set a pan on the lit burner.
Cooking has always been your responsibility. It was one of the things you brought to this relationship. And you liked being the one to keep Benny fed, never chiming in when the other Vandals’ wives and girlfriends mentioned how exhausting it was to satisfy their man’s grumbling stomach. You liked that Benny appreciated you for it.
Now you wonder if subconsciously you believed that as long as you fed him, he’d stay by your side, regardless of his wild nature. Kind of like a puppy. But Benny Cross is no puppy.
“I should probably learn,” he says. “You know, for the kid.”
You hum, cracking an egg on the edge of the pan. “Maybe you should stick to learning how not to ditch your family,” you retort, and immediately your features twist in a wince.
You can’t believe you let those words out of your mouth. You’d been doing so well at holding in the little jabs and remarks, no matter how hard they’ve pushed at your sealed lips. Not to say a few of them haven’t slipped through in the last month, they have, but each time they did, you received instant punishment in the form of Benny’s heart crumbling right before your eyes.
He’s never tried to make you feel guilty about your slip-ups, but he can’t seem to hide his expressions around you anymore. Ever since Benny returned, he’s been different. Your husband who was once so stoic has untethered his emotions from the piece inside of him that, for years, refused to let them show. His affection is more outward now, but unfortunately, so is his pain. So you made a rule to stop doing that to him; stop catching him off guard with words of hurt during a time of pending forgiveness. What he did was damaging, yes, but it’s unfair to pick at him when he’s been doing everything he can to show you he has value to this family; things he never would have done before.
He wakes earlier than you to clean the most-used areas of the house—a poorly done job; you still find dust in spaces dust should have easily been wiped up, but he tries. He found work at a mechanic’s shop not too far from the house, and surprisingly, he has yet to complain about it—a decent job was always something he physically and mentally shunned. He got rid of everything in the spare room and has begun painting the walls from the deep brown left over from the prior owners to a soft, light green that matches the baby blanket he brought you. It’s cute, and significantly better than you would have done without him. You would’ve been too stressed to put together a nice nursery.
Benny awkwardly clears his throat, breaking up your thoughts and bringing you back to the present. The lingering discomfort from your snide tone is palpable, heavy, just short of physically formed, and you can’t escape it.
“I didn’t mean that,” you tell him as you flip the egg.
The sizzle in the pan is louder as uncooked egg hits the heat, but you can still hear his deep breath, easily picturing the weak smile on his face when he softly says, “It’s ok. I deserve it.”
You’re about to protest, but he doesn’t give you the chance.
“I was thinkin’ about goin’ to a meeting tonight,” Benny says. “You wanna come with me?”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Oh…” he says, dejected. “It's been a while since you've been to one. I know you stopped goin’ when I was…away, so I thought…”
You set the spatula down and turn to face him, crossing your arms. “I wasn’t going to go without you. And considering everything, everyone just would have pitied me. I'm sure they still do.”
His blue eyes fall to the tiled floor. You know he hates that such a thought would enter your mind, but it’s not as if you’re capable of stopping it. He put you in a pitiful situation, and were the circumstances placed upon another woman, you would have felt those same feelings for her.
“No one pities you, baby. I promise,” he says. “They miss you.” His head lifts so he can meet your stare. “But if you don’t want to go then I'll stay here with you. We can watch a movie or somethin’.”
Your eyes widen. “No!” you yelp. Benny’s head jerks back at the sudden outburst and you swallow to buy yourself time to sort your thoughts into words, but the best you come up with is: “You’re right, actually. We should go.”
“But you just–” His brow raises in skepticism. “Are you sure?”
If your options are club meeting surrounded by a large group of people or movie-watching with you and Benny alone, then yes, you are absolutely sure. The movie channels have rallied against you lately. Out of the five times you and Benny have watched a film since he came back, all five have been romances. All of them!
You don’t know if he scours the TV Guide without you noticing or if the television channels have simply rallied against you, but sitting beside your husband who you are trying not to give in to is made all the more difficult when watching Audrey Hepburn fall in love with George Peppard or Cary Grant or Greggory Peck for God's sake. You see them and it makes you forget things. You forget that you’re as upset as you are, and with Benny so close, your heart starts to pound and you can’t focus on anything else. You want to crawl right into his arms, let him hold you and kiss you and take you on the couch after what has felt like an eternity apart. But you can’t do that. It’s too soon. So no movies.
“Positive,” you nod.
An easy smile slides onto his face. “Well that’s great, baby. It'll be fun.”
“Yea. Sure.”
“Alright,” he says, standing. “I gotta get to the shop.”
He pauses as he passes by you, and you hold his gaze as he squashes the instinct to press his lips to your forehead.
You weren’t married to Benny for long before he panicked and left—only a handful of months—but it was long enough for the two of you to develop your own set of rituals. And by the consistency and ease with which Benny performed those rituals, anyone would have assumed they’d been in place for decades.
A kiss on the forehead after breakfast was one ritual. As was the bedtime cuddling with your leg slotted between his. And the way he’d stare at you in the mirror, his arms crossed and body leaning against the doorframe as he watched you brush your teeth with a grin on his face.
But the one you miss the most is the hug from behind that you'd receive once he’d decided to come home for the night. He’d circle his arms around your waist and place a kiss on your neck, and then he’d chuckle because he was so determined to sneak up on you and give you a little scare but was never successful. You could feel him before he touched you, you could smell his cologne, but you didn’t want to ruin his fun, so you let him have hope that one day he would finally surprise you.
Benny blows out a long breath through his nose. “I’ll see you tonight,” he mutters with a brief hint of a smile.
As the front door closes behind him, a carbon smell grabs your attention and you look over your shoulder at your breakfast. It’s charred, inedible, and you don’t even care, you just knock the pan off to the side to keep the house from burning down.
—
“Well, thank the lord,” Betty’s voice travels across the bar as she and Kathy approach you and Benny. “We weren’t sure we’d ever see you again, honey.”
Kathy draws you into a tight hug that rips you from Benny’s side. “Things have not been the same with you gone,” she says as she leans back, rubbing her hands up and down your arms. She smiles so sweetly and you breathe a sigh of relief. These women were your friends and you feel guilty for abandoning them just because Benny abandoned you. “Come sit.”
“Benny Cross, we are stealin’ your wife,” Betty declares, “And you don't get to whine about it.” There’s a dash of vitriol in her tone that nibbles at your gut and you hope it’s simply an effect of the alcohol she must’ve had prior to your arrival.
“Oh,” Benny says. You glance at him, at the disappointed look on his face—subtle, but there. He wanted you by his side tonight, but he’s not going to force you to deny their offer. “Ok.”
Kathy and Betty each take one of your hands and lead you to a small rounded table. It’s the centerpiece of the room, and as one of three surrounding it, so are you, unfortunately. As Betty sticks a cigarette in her mouth and Kathy takes a sip of her beer, your eyes scan the low-lit space.
Stares from the men lining the walls burn your cheeks. You recognize only half of them—the Vets, as they’re known—and they give you their smiles and nods in a ‘welcome back’ gesture, Johnny, in particular, sporting a rare grin.
The others—the Newcomers; out-of-towners who came specifically to join the club—look at you with something else in their eyes. Amusement? Curiosity? They seem to know exactly who you are and enjoy a little too much putting a face to the name. You, however, don’t know a single one of them. They’d arrived shortly before Benny left, and while some faces, those with distinct features, you can recall from nuggets of your memory, you’ve never spoken to them. You never got their names.
“Why this table?” you ask your friends.
“Best view of the pool table, obviously,” Betty chuckles after snapping Johnny’s lighter shut. She nudges her head in that direction. “Nothin’ wrong with lookin’, I say.”
Flanking the table are Cal, Wahoo, and Benny; Wahoo watching and chattering from the sidelines as Cal and Benny alternate between shots.
Benny edges from one side of the table to the other, sizing up his options. Then, cue in hand, cigarette dangling from his lips, he bends at the waist and lines up the shot.
He’s so stupidly beautiful. The lamp hanging above the table illuminates him, defining his muscles by highlighting the hills and casting the valleys into shadow. A haze of smoke coats your view, but his pure essence and magnetism break through it like rays of sun through parted clouds.
Benny’s eyes flick up to yours and he winks as he shoots, driving two balls directly into their nets.
Your mouth goes dry. You swallow sandpaper, leaving your throat all raw and scratchy.
“So, how’ve you been, honey?” Betty asks, and you turn your head. “How've you been feelin’? How’s that nausea?”
“Yea,” Kathy adds, leaning in close as if seeking out a secret, “and how’s it been goin’ with him? Any trouble?”
“Um, I'm fine,” you say, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind your ear. “Nausea’s manageable.
As far as Benny goes, there's no trouble,” you tell them, “It’s just–” You pause.
What can you say? That you haven’t fully forgiven him even though he’s working so hard to be a good husband? That some of the things he’s doing around the house are swoon-worthy compared to what most men you know would do but you’re too stubborn to express the depth of your appreciation? Any woman would look at you like you’re insane.
When you think about it like that, maybe you are insane.
“I don't know,” you say with a shrug and a shake of your head. “It's hard to explain.”
“Well, according to Johnny, Benny’s worried each day in the house will be his last,” Betty says, blowing a stream of smoke off to the side. “That boy’s so afraid he’s gonna mess up and let you down again that I'm surprised he hasn't lost his marbles. I read in Life that bein’ that anxious wreaks havoc on the body and mind.”
Betty’s always reading something in Life, and a good portion of the time you are hesitant to take her seriously. Not necessarily because you don’t trust what the magazine reports, but that Betty tends to exaggerate for kicks.
You have a feeling she’s not exaggerating this time.
Your face falls.
“Don’t you feel bad about it for one second,” Kathy scolds, placing her hand on top of yours. “You’re well within your rights to make him earn his place.”
“I know, but I don’t want him to be scared that I'm going to–”
You’re cut off by a male voice slipping through a brief lull in the cacophony of noise.
“If she don’t want Benny no more, she can bring her sweet ass right on over to me,” a Newcomer says in a slurring mess. “I’d sure take better care of her than he did.”
Every soul in the room falls deadly silent—the only remaining sound being the melody of Elvis's Baby Let's Play House from the jukebox—and the world around you freezes.
Cigarettes are held over ashtrays, their ashes yet to be knocked off. Beer bottles are raised to lips without the satisfaction of a sip. The bartender’s rag has only wiped up half of a drunken man’s spill. No one is breathing and everyone’s eyes are glued to either the Newcomer or your husband. Yours are on Newcomer, watching his features shift and tick as he soaks in the weight of what he just said, and what it’s about to cost him.
Kathy sighs. “Oh, god.”
The whole bar hears her—impossible not to; you could hear a mouse skitter across the floor—and her words seem to carry with them the wave of a green flag, because a moment later, Benny rushes the guy and tackles him to the ground.
Chaos erupts. All at once, shouts, curses, and hateful name-calling explode like the impact of a bomb. Nearly every man in the club is taking sides in the war between Newcomers and Vets. Fists fly into faces. Faces are shoved against walls. Walls are cracked from bodies slamming into them. There’s the distinct sound of bone meeting bone. Blood splatters across your table.
“Jesus, fellas!” Kathy snaps as she and Betty hop up, dragging you out of the danger zone.
In a panic, your head whips in all directions. You can’t find Benny, but you need to find him and you need to find him now.
You’ve seen him throw punches at races and members’ houses but this is too public a space, and if the cops are called, he can’t be caught fighting again. Nor can he risk having fingers pointed his way for instigating. He already has a record, and though you didn’t know him during his few stints behind bars, you know he has exhausted the sheriff's leniency. If you leave now, Johnny will come up with something to excise Benny’s participation should questions arise.
You take a step forward but Kathy’s grip is tight. “Where do you think you’re goin’?” she shouts.
“To get my husband.”
Betty gapes. “Are you crazy? You're pregnant!” But you ignore her, shaking Kathy off and heading into the storm. “Johnny! Johnny, grab her!”
You weave through fight after fight, stopping short when a body lands at your feet, but he’s up and out of your way in an instant, and you continue dodging and ducking until you spot a blond head. From what you can see, there’s hardly a scratch on him. The same cannot be said for the drunk guy beneath him.
Before you can move another inch, an arm circles your waist and jerks you back.
“Hey!” you snap. “Let go!”
“Not a chance, sweetheart. You stay out of it,” Johnny says, lifting you off the ground and setting you down in a safer area. He puts his hands on your shoulders and dips his head to your eye level, locking on to your gaze. “I’ll get ‘im, ok? I’ll get ‘im. Stay right here.”
You nod in agreement, your brows knitted and teeth chewing on your bottom lip.
From this location, you have a better view of your husband and the friend who is trying and failing to break up the fight. Johnny yanking on Benny’s dominant arm is not enough to stop the attacks. Neither is the forearm locked around his neck.
When Cal notices Johnny’s struggle, he pushes his opponent into a table and races over to take hold of Benny’s other bicep. Together they pull him off the man whose face no longer resembles a human’s. It’s a bloody mess. His nose is dented in, eyes swollen shut, lips split and mouth hanging open to reveal an empty space where a tooth used to be.
Benny’s chest heaves. Murder is in his glare. He jerks against his restraints but struggles to break free with the force of two men weighing him to the ground.
Then Johnny mutters something in Benny’s ear that immediately halts his thrashing. His breathing slows. The fire fades from his irises, returning them to their soft cerulean, and his eyes tear away from the beaten man to dart around the room in search of you.
As Benny spots you, Johnny's lips move, seemingly forming the words ‘Get outta here,’ before he pats Benny on the chest and lets him rise to his feet.
Benny comes to you and without stopping grasps your hand and leads you out of the bar.
—
“You think you fractured anything?” You ask as you slide the key into the lock and turn.
Benny stretches and flexes his fingers. “No,” he answers, trailing into the house behind you and shutting the front door. “Are you upset with me?”
He’s been wanting to ask that question since you left the bar. As he'd placed the helmet on your head and clipped the strap under your chin, you'd observed his lips, how they were parting as if to speak but unable to get anything out. And when he'd helped you off the bike in front of the house, his expression was far away, his jaw shifting, teeth clenching—the look of your husband in intense thought.
At least he finally spit it out. Normally, he would have run his fingers through his hair and sighed, opting not to bother you with the question; a behavior that used to drive you crazy. It took weeks after you met for you to accept that while Benny was willing to share a lot with you—things he didn’t intend to share with anyone; a life, for instance—there were things best not to pester him into revealing.
So you’re a patient partner. If it needs to be said or asked, it’ll be said or asked. And you're glad he decided this was one question that needed to be asked.
You sigh, hanging your jacket on the rack, and Benny follows, selecting the hook closest to yours.
“I mean, you nearly killed him,” you say as you make your way to the back of the living room and open the closet that houses the first aid kit.
On tippy toes, you can barely brush your fingers along the metal tin, and you grumble each time you unintentionally push it a little further back on the shelf.
A muscled arm reaches above your head to grab the kit. Benny places it in your hands before stepping back into the seating area and dropping down onto the footstool, his standard perch when you’re fixing him up.
Blue eyes are glued to your body as you take a seat on the couch.
You pull the lid off of the tin and riffle through it for the small bottle of alcohol—you’ll have to buy more soon, it’s getting low—and a clean rag. With the alcohol-soaked fabric at the ready, you slip your fingers under his warm palm, bring his hand close, and get to work dabbing the wounds and wiping off some of the dried blood. He doesn’t so much as hiss at the shot of pain that makes any other human groan and pinch their eyes tight.
“He was out of line,” he tells you.
“I’m not saying he wasn’t out of line, but I really don't need you getting in trouble and being taken away from me, Benny.” You’re focused on his injury, but out of the corner of your eye, he winces in shame. “Besides, he was just mouthing off.”
“Mouthin’ off about my wife.”
With a huff, you drop your joined hands onto your lap and shoot him a look. “I know, but do you honestly believe what he said could ever happen? Do you think I would leave you for some other man?”
You ask with the full expectation of a whip-quick reply—‘of course not, baby’—but Benny adam’s apple bobs, and his teeth clench as his eyes flit to the undoubtedly less interesting carpet.
“Benny…?”
He runs his uninjured hand down his face and looks up at you. “C'mon, baby, it's not that wild of a thought. Not after what I did to you,” he says, his thumb slowly running over your knuckles. “You are so much better than anything I should be allowed to have. But me? You could throw a rock in any direction and you'd hit a man better than me. One that wouldn’t have panicked and left you pregnant and alone for six weeks.”
You shake your head. “That’s not true.”
“It is true.”
“It is not, and even if it was, I don't want another man,” you confess. A beat passes as you exhale heavily to stave off the stinging of oncoming tears. “It hurts that you left, but I am working through it, we are working through it, ok? You’re not going to lose me, Benny Cross. Not unless you leave me.”
“I'm never leavin’ you,” he says.
You place your free hand on his cheek. “Then you’re never losing me.”
Benny swallows hard and scans your face—each and every feature—lingering on your lips before meeting your eyes. As your thumb strokes his cheekbone, he wraps his fingers around your wrist, turns his head, and presses a kiss to your palm.
“Baby, I miss you so much,” he mutters, his brows pinched in anguish. “I miss touchin’ you. I miss holdin’ you. I miss sleepin’ next to you.” He lightly shakes his head. “I know I don’t deserve you, and I sure as hell don’t deserve our baby, but I fuckin’ miss you.”
The unit that is your heart and body and soul feels as if it’s being cleaved in two. This isn’t what the past month of your lives was meant to be about. It was supposed to be about building trust, not dishing out punishment. And yes, you’ve messed up before, said things that weren’t fair, but keeping him at arm's length is more than that. It’s a deeper pain. Stronger. More potent. Not just for him, but for you as well, and now you can’t quite see the point anymore. Staying away from his touch does not help anything if what you want at the end of the day is to be together. And that is what you want.
When you touch your lips to his for the first time in almost three months, you whimper. You whimper and you melt and the tears want to come back because it’s so much easier to resist desire when you haven’t entertained it in a while. But now you’ve given in. You’re tasting him like you used to, tasting the remnants of gin and cigarettes and the blueberry pie you made for dessert, and it’s all Benny. Benny, who is so shocked that you’ve kissed him that it takes a handful of seconds before he kisses you back and becomes the Benny you know. And then he’s curling his arm around your waist and pulling you into his lap, and his hands are everywhere. Squeezing your thighs, sliding over your ass, tracing up your spine, holding the back of your neck to guide you closer so he can kiss you harder, and yea, you are never depriving yourself of your husband again.
Benny stands, taking you with him, supporting your weight as he keeps kissing you and you keep kissing him. He blindly turns and settles into the comfort of the couch with your legs on either side of his hips.
You lean back, breaking the connection of your lips. “Benny.”
He’s staring at you like you’re hypnotic, mesmerizing. Like he’s drunk on kisses. His fingers trace the curvature of your face. A thumb ghosts over the swollen pillows of your mouth.
“Yea, baby,” he says, voice gravelly, just above a whisper.
“Do you want to be back in our bed?”
Benny stiffens and he blinks away that glazed-over expression. “You mean it?” He asks. You nod.
“Are you gonna be in the bed too?” he says, sifting his fingers through your hair. “We're not just swappin’, are we?”
You smile. “No, we aren't swapping,” you promise him, your forehead falling against his. “I'm making room.”
---
A/N: I kind of want to do a time jump Part 3 with lots of Dad!Benny stuff. Let me know if you’d be interested in reading that. Thanks :)
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#benny cross x reader#benny cross#bikeriders#austin butler#the bikeriders#benny cross fic#austin butler x reader
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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.
#benny cross x reader#benny cross#the bikeriders#benny the bikeriders#austin butler benny#oneshot#benny cross x y/n#benny x reader#angst#fluff#smut#actually obsessive#fools in love#jealousy#getting back together#exes#exes to lovers#inspired by taylor swift#kind of kidnapping
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Missing You
Benny Cross x gf reader
Summary: After a wreck puts you in the hospital, Benny takes off. Will he return or leave you with more than just a broken leg?
Warnings: hospital setting, injury, brief mention of motorcycle accident, fear of abandonment, angst with fluffy ending
A/N: My first fic for The Bikeriders, pls be kind! Comments are love so leave me some 💕 No spoilers here!
Divider credit @firefly-graphics
Benny Cross Masterlist
You turned in the narrow hospital bed, head throbbing from the pain and the bright overhead light in your eyes. "Benny," you mumbled, head fuzzy and mouth feeling as though it were stuffed with cotton.
"Isn't there anyone else we could call?" a tired voice asked from far away. "A relative? Parents?"
There was a shuffle and whispering that sounded like a passing cloud over your head. "No one...she doesn't speak to...don't make it worse, please. He'll be back."
You tried to sit up to see what was happening, but you felt a wave a nausea which stopped you suddenly. Screwing your eyes shut to will it away, the gentle rocking only continued, making you whimper.
"Shhh, lie back, honey," a warm voice instructed, pressing you down into the soft pillows. You felt the warmth of a hand encasing yours as reassuring words poured over you like honey. "They put you under to fix that busted leg, but you're gonna be fine now. Just need a little rest, that's all."
You blinked slowly and opened your eyes once more, fixing your gaze on Johnny's wife, Betty. She gave you a small smile and you felt yourself relax at the sight of her kind eyes. Much like Johnny had for Benny, she had become a role model for you, teaching you how to make a life with the Vandals. Now she was more of a mother to you than your flesh and blood.
"Wh-where's Benny?" you asked, a bit more coherently than you'd managed before.
Betty busied herself pouring some water into a cup for you and your heart began to race, wondering if she was stalling. The memories were coming back to you in full force now, Benny carrying you into the hospital after the crash, yelling at the nurses and doctors. Had he abandoned you then because of the trouble or later when he learned of the care you'd require? You felt hot tears welling in your lash line as you realized this might be the end.
As she turned back to you with the cup, Betty's face fell. Sighing gently, she confirmed your worst fears. "He's not coming back tonight, Y/n."
You couldn't stop the sobs that wracked your body, shoulders shaking and chest heaving with the weight of her words. She allowed you a moment of despair, a hand stroking down your back in soothing circles. When that didn't seem to comfort you, she asked, "Don't you remember the nurses asking Benny to leave?"
Stifling a cry, you sniffed, "No, what are you talking about?"
"I thought you knew."
"Benny stayed?"
"Sure he did, paced all night. Got himself so worked up, he punched a hole in the wall over there! They told him he had to show himself the door or the cops would," Betty explained, the rush of words leaving her mouth so quickly you barely comprehended it all.
You inhaled a deep breath, feeling lightheaded from the relief. "He still wants me?" you mumbled to yourself. There had always been a deep fear coursing through you that someday Benny would take off and never come back. You'd been warned many times he was a man who liked his freedom.
"He still what?" Betty asked, looking at you in confusion. "Sweetie it's none of my business, but I think you should try to sleep now."
Nodding in agreement, you sunk beneath the hospital blankets, exhaustion quickly overtaking your tired mind.
When your eyes reopened, sunlight was pouring through the blinds. A lazy smile spread across your face as you realized your head was no longer pounding with the incessant pain from yesterday. Though your leg now ached in its place and an irritating itch inside your cast was nagging you, somehow you had a good feeling about the day ahead. Stretching your arms above your head, you startled at the sound of a familiar, deep voice.
"Hi baby."
Your heart caught in your chest, too afraid to look if it was actually him.
"Ain't you gonna say hello?" Benny asked, his handsome face hovering over you like a blue eyed angel.
"Oh, Benny," you whimpered, eyes filling with tears.
"Hey, hey...don't cry," he urged, sweeping your hair away for a cautious kiss. You strained to meet the soft press of his full lips against yours, leaning into the gentle touch of his fingertips lacing through your hair. He kept his weight from you, careful not to worsen the bruising he knew you'd sustained to your ribs.
As his beard brushed your cheek, the gravel in his voice rumbled into your chest along with the words you'd longed to hear, "I missed my girl."
"I missed you. What the hell happened?"
Benny chuckled, his teeth shining in that mischievous grin he wore when he knew he'd been caught. His gaze turned toward the crumbling plaster he'd left in the wake of his anger, straightening his denim jacket as he confessed, "Mighta made some trouble."
"I heard," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "Betty told me, but she didn't say why," you prodded with a raised eyebrow.
Benny pulled up a chair, taking your hand between his large calloused palms. "Listen, I want you to know somethin."
You furrowed your brow uncertain where he was headed.
He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand as he spoke, his speech slow and tender as you'd never heard him before. A man of few words you weren't prepared for what came next. "I know you don't have kin...kin that claim you anyway." You stared down at his rings, watching them glimmer in the light as he chewed his lip in concentration, choosing his next words carefully. "We been riding together a couple of years now and you gotta know by now that I'll never leave you behind."
Swallowing a lump in your throat, you realized how wrong you'd been, misjudging your boyfriend in a moment of fear. The reputation Benny had as a loner who only looked out for himself simply wasn't true. The love you felt for each other was real, he was telling you so right now. The thought stirred butterflies in your stomach the likes of which you hadn't felt since you met.
Reaching for his face, you cupped his blonde scruff as you proclaimed, "I want to be with you too."
His eyes fell to the floor, thick lashes downcast as he was overcome by a sudden rush of shyness. Perhaps he'd already said too much, revealed a part of himself he kept hidden for fear of exposing weakness. However, you were reveling in it, especially when he raised his head to add another word of praise just for you.
"I was proud of you when we went down. Took it like a champ, you know?"
It was your turn to look away, blush creeping up your neck as you shook your head in vehement denial.
"No, I mean it. The first thing you asked when they got you in here was when you was gonna ride again!" he chuckled at the memory.
"What?" you asked incredulously.
"Yeah, the nurses all thought you were crazy. Said so too," he recalled, bitterness rolling off his tongue. He sighed heavily as he admitted, "That's why I punched the wall."
Staring up at the ceiling, you finally connected all the pieces and let out a little huff. It was soon followed by a snort, then a rolling wave of laughter as you were unable to contain your amusement at your boyfriend's classic impulsiveness. All the hurt and pain melted away as you realized it had all been a wayward attempt to defend you.
"M glad you think it's funny I almost got arrested," he protested.
"And I got a broken leg, Benny!" you countered sternly.
"You win," he conceded with a grin.
Looking down at the cast you turned sullen. "Can't ride with you now."
"Says who?" he asked, drawing close to you. His bright eyes danced with spirited challenge, daring you to defy him.
"I just thought..." you stumbled, feeling all willpower leave your body. When Benny asked something of you, the only answer was yes.
"You go where I go. We make trouble together, remember?" he said, sliding an arm over your waist and pulling you into him for another slow, sensual kiss.
"Sure do, don't we?" you agreed, moving in unison with him. Clutching onto his jacket you asked, "We going home now? I'm done missing you."
#the bikeriders#Austin Butler#the bikeriders fanfiction#the bikeriders imagine#Benny Cross x reader#Benny Cross x you#Benny Cross x y/n#Benny Cross fan fiction#Benny Cross imagine
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hii 😊 can you please write benny x yn where she thinks he’s a player so she doesn’t want to give him a chance and go on a date with someone else and that drives him crazy and he does everything for her to see him differently, even asks kathy to put in a good word for him
hi! 💝 I know you sent it like 2 hours ago – I swear, I am not insane but I was itching so badly to write something about Benny that... it's already here 👀 as much as I adore the fics with innocent, sweet Readers – my Reader talks back 😇🤭 I hope it's fine 😘
[ I haven't abandoned the three requests from my inbox from the last time, I promise ]
requests for benny are open 🥺🎀
Benny Cross was an insufferable guy. He was showing up at your diner nearly every day and always asking for the same thing with the same smug smile on his pretty full lips – and always getting your annoyed eye-rolls each time. Yeah, he was pretty and you wouldn’t deny that. And yeah, you could see why so many girls saw the appeal. Bad boys were in fashion now… Well, actually, where had they not been? But you didn’t want to end up as a girl in trouble. Perhaps you were just an ordinary waitress but you still didn’t want to ruin your life for a player. And you couldn’t understand why he wanted you so badly.
“I think it’s because you turned him down,” Kathy explained to you the other day. She was your friend and recently she had also been strangely associated with Benny’s motorbike gang – The Vandals. Ever since her breakup, you could not recognise her, honestly.
“I turned him down, exactly,” you emphasised. “Why can’t guys learn that no means no?” You sighed.
“Oh, please, it must feel… Flattering to be chased by a guy like Benny, right?” Kathy giggled and you looked away, trying not to reveal that yeah, she was right.
“Listen, I just don’t want to end up like my cousin. She had a one night stand with this bad boy at college and guess what? She had to drop out, now she’s a single baby mama and the guy? God only knows where. Some say he married another chick in Nevada,” you explained to Kathy.
“But you’re not in college,” she pointed out as her eyes widened and you just rolled your eyes.
Jesus, what was going on with her these days?
You couldn't know that it was Benny himself telling her to "spread the propaganda" so you'd be more willing to finally agree to go out with him. You couldn't know that you were driving this man crazy – driving him crazier than his motorbike. He would wake up at night all sweaty and all he could think about was you.
You were a tough cookie and you were a challenge – that was for sure. But Benny knew it was more than that. He already knew that his desire would not disappear after claiming you. In fact, it would only grow once he'd get a taste. He was serious about you and he was desperate for you to see it.
When Marcus Lane asked you out, you were speechless. You were walking out of a flower store with a fresh bouquet to put on your grandfather’s grave and he whistled at you.
You turned around and raised an eyebrow at the guy leaning on his car. And God, what a car that was… A shiny, black Cadillac that made your eyes sparkle.
“Hi!” You waved at him. “You’re back from college,” you pointed out.
“Yeah,” he nodded at you and lit a cigarette. He offered you one but you shook your head. “Couldn’t wait to visit my neighbourhood. I’m staying with my ma until the end of summer,” he explained. “Then I got a job for myself in New York City,” he bragged so casually.
You had always thought he was full of himself and full of shit, too, but out of all the guys in your high school year he had been the one who would succeed most likely. Apparently, it was true. He was going places.
“And how’s Camilla?” You asked him.
“We broke up,” he winced. “What you doing tonight?”
You blinked a few times and fixed your skirt. Marcus Lane asking you out?
“Nothin’,” you answered and tilted your head.
“Wanna go and see a picture?” Marcus asked.
“Yeah!” You nodded, not even asking what picture.
“Still living with your ma?”
“Yeah,” you answered.
“I’ll pick you up at six,” he winked at you and you only nodded at him before walking away, not being able to hide a smile.
On your way back from the graveyard, you stopped by the laundry to tell Kathy the news but she didn’t look excited.
“He’s a knobhead, isn’t he? Always has been,” she shook her head.
“Wow, gee, thanks for being happy for me! You know he’s goin’ places and… He’s gonna be somebody,” you couldn’t help a grin.
“Don’t even start,” Kathy put her hands on her hips but you kept on a dreamy expression, so she snapped her fingers right in front of your face. “Guys like Marcus Lane do not date girls like us, wake up.”
“Why would he ask me out then?” You got defensive because your feelings and pride were hurt – mostly because you had a feeling Kathy was right.
“Because he’s back for the summer and bored? He saw you and thought he could play with you for a while before he leaves forever? Because he thinks a silly girl he remembers from high school might be an easy fuck for the summer?” Kathy asked and asked as your anxiety grew.
“Wow, thanks,” you got angry because you hated how right she could be. And sometimes you hated how honest she was instead of feeding your delusions. “I’m going out with him tonight and I’m not gonna sleep with him,” you told her before walking out to go back home and prepare for the night.
You wore a red polka dot top and tight jeans for the date instead of a dress. Marcus didn’t comment but he looked a little disappointed and you could see that on his face. He kept staring at your thighs as he drove you to the cinema, which increased your anxiety that Kathy could had been right indeed… More than you had expected.
You went to see Bonnie and Clyde and after the movie, Marcus insisted on taking you to a club in the neighbourhood. It was one of those places you would never go to alone but with a man around, you felt safer. At least you should feel this way. But something about Marcus was not right. Why would a proper guy like him even want to take you to a club like that? Perhaps because he was seeing you as a girl like that. You didn’t disagree, though. The idea of getting free drinks was tempting.
“Looks like some of those dirty bums have a meeting here tonight,” he murmured to himself as you walked inside and you sighed at the sight of The Vandals themselves.
The whole place was full of cigarette smoke and it stank of sweat, leather and grease.
“I hate those punks,” Marcus winced. “Sit here, I’ll get us something to drink,” he winked at you as he sat you down by one of the tables and you nodded,
He walked away, without even asking you what you wanted. You looked around, feeling out of place and then you spotted him… Benny Cross by the pool table. You quickly looked the other way but he glanced in your direction and smirked.
You pretended to be very fascinated by the posters on the wall but he sat by the table next to yours and kept grinning at you with his flashy smile, his muscles all on display as he rested his arms on the chair’s backrest.
Seeing you there, it made his heart skip a beat. And those tight blue jeans, that red top... Benny was smug for a moment, thinking that you finally decided to hang out with him. He had been inviting you to this club many times before.
However, he quickly realised that you weren' there alone. And the guy you came with made him feel sick in his stomach. Not only because he looked like a typical piece of shit that would take advantage of a girl like you... But also because this guy represented everything that Benny was not. And it was making him feel insecure at the moment. Of course your standards were higher than a guy like him. That was one of the reasons why he liked you so much.
Still, he decided to play his little game and annoy you a little.
Marcus came back with two drinks in his hand and he looked Benny up and down before placing a drink in front of you.
“That punk bothering you?” He asked – quite bravely, you had to admit. But Benny remained the same as if he was a statue.
“For weeks now,” you chuckled and watched Marcus take a seat in front of you, still glancing angrily at Benny on your right.
“Is he stupid or somethin’?” Marcus asked.
“It’s fine. Let’s just pretend he’s not here,” you shrugged your arms.
In fact, you enjoyed it. And you wanted to pretend to like Marcus more than you did so Benny would finally realise you were not interested.
Still… You couldn’t help an odd feeling of safety now when he was sitting next to you and some part of you didn’t want him to walk away and leave you alone with Marcus.
“So, what do you think about the movie?” Marcus asked and sipped on his drink as you sipped on yours. Benny raised an eyebrow at you.
“We were in the cinema to watch Bonnie and Clyde,” you informed him quickly as if he was in the audience and you were an actress in the theatre but he was late and you wanted him to catch on. He nodded his head like a little boy and Marcus gritted his teeth. “Well,” you addressed your date now as you fixed your hair nonchalantly. “I adored it. And Warren Beatty was beautiful as always.”
“I don’t like him,” Marcus commented. “And I didn’t like the movie much. My favourite part was when they got killed.”
“Why?” You asked. It was already getting difficult to pretend to like him. And Benny seemed to be interested by his answer too – he tilted his head.
“Because they were outlaws and a couple of twisted psychos!” Marcus got irritated – at Benny still being there and at you asking such silly questions with such obvious answers.
“Yeah, they were but there’s also some romanticism to it, don’t you think? That’s why they made a movie about them. And why did you even go to see a movie about people you despise so much?” You asked and sipped on your drink again.
“You can’t be serious. There’s nothing romantic about murdering people,” Marcus started sounding very patronising and you suddenly realised that Kathy had been right. So, so much. You were a silly girl in his eyes.
“Murdering – no. But the life they had. The love, the freedom on the road,” you tried to explain.
“You want freedom on the road? Ask one of those bums here to show you,” Marcus laughed with irony and he squinted his eyes at Benny. “What you still doing here, punk? How can I get it into your thick head that you’re not a part of this conversation? It’s my date,” he scoffed.
“It’s my girl,” Benny leaned back with a smug smile and your heart skipped a beat.
Usually, when he’d call you that, you would get angry. But now, when Marcus had been annoying you for the whole evening, you actually enjoyed that. Because Marcus’ face was priceless. He looked at you with disgust.
“Is this true?” He asked you. “What the hell is going on?”
But before you could answer, some drunk and loud biker entered the club loudly as he laughed out loud.
“Fuck, I’ve scratched some Cadillac in the front!” He announced and sat by the counter to order beer. You couldn’t help but chuckle at that and Marcus’ face went as red as tomato.
He stood up rapidly, gave you a furious look and then ran outside to check on his beloved car, surely. Not caring much about the fact he was leaving you alone with dangerous men swarming around.
“So…” Benny started lazily as he licked his lips before looking you up and down. “That’s your type?” He pointed his thumb at the door Marcus had just left through. “That why you didn’t want me to take you out?”
“Why did you do that?” You asked, genuinely and his face got serious now.
“I saw you sittin’ here all alone, for a moment I thought… You came here for me,” he admitted with a laugh. “Then I saw that guy and I thought to myself: Jesus, what an asshole. So, I wanted to watch,” he shrugged his arms and you couldn’t help but stare at the flexing muscles and all the tattoos.
“He’s a proper guy. Graduated from college and with a job waiting for him in New York City,” you explained.
“But you’re not a proper girl,” Benny pointed out with a grin and you suddenly got a flashback of Kathy telling you the same thing – that you were just a silly girl for Marcus, just an easy fuck for the summer…
You stood up rapidly and Benny looked up with a confused look on his face but you ignored him and left the club, hoping Marcus was still there and you could explain to him that you weren’t Benny’s girl… Maybe he’d drive you home?
But Marcus wasn’t there anymore. The only vehicles in the parking lot were motorbikes. You sighed and started walking in the direction of the bus stop but the door opened behind you. You heard heavy footsteps and then the sound of lighting a cigarette. Turning around slightly, you spotted Benny following you.
“Just wanted to point out that proper girls don’t find Bonnie and Clyde romantic,” with a few big steps he was now walking next to you.
“It’s not the murdering aspect, gee, why do I have to explain it so many times?” You got irritated.
“I didn’t say anything ‘bout it. You said something about the freedom and the road. You ever been on the open road like that?” Benny asked and you already knew what he wanted to propose because he had been mentioning it many times before while flirting with you at the diner.
“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “I need a ride home,” you admitted and bit on your lower lip. “And no, I’ve never been. On the open road, I mean,” you added, feeling your cheeks heating up.
Benny didn’t say anything, he only nodded before throwing his cigarette on the ground and walking away to jump on his motorbike. He started the engine and patiently waited for you to finally join him. Feeling the rush of adrenaline going through your body, you clumsily sat behind him and he made the engine roar like a lion – a very sexy sound, you had to admit – but he didn’t start driving. You realised he was giving you a signal to hold onto something before he would drive away. It was considerate of him, you had to admit. Other guys would just drive away and laugh at your squealing. But Benny wanted you to be safe and for the second time on that night you realised that he was making you feel safe. Safer than a proper guy like Marcus – for sure. And you just didn’t know what to do with this information.
You wrapped your arms around his waist, told him your address and that was when the engine roared again but this time he drove away.
And God, something broke inside of you that moment. It was as if your brain chemistry changed completely. The speed, the wind in your hair, the freedom – this odd feeling that he could take you anywhere like this and you would go with him… To the point that when you spotted him taking a turn that led to your street, you nearly felt disappointed that he wasn’t “kidnapping” you. Perhaps in this moment you understood your cousin even – why had it been so tempting to risk everything for a handsome bad boy.
Benny parked the motorbike in front of your house and you could already spot your mum standing by the window upstairs and looking out through the curtain. You chuckled at the realisation you would have to explain to her how your date with Marcus ended with a guy like Benny taking you home.
“Thanks,” you only said as you got off the bike, still clinging to his leather jacket to make sure you wouldn’t trip and fall. You were a little breathless after that ride.
“And? What do you think?” He asked as he raised an eyebrow.
“It was… Okay,” you grinned, not wanting to give him satisfaction.
“Why do you tease me so much?” Benny sighed.
He was done with playing for now. He just wanted to know the answer. Perhaps it would finally make him give up. Or perhaps it would educate him on the matter how to flirt with you better. Either way, he just wanted the truth.
“Why do you insist so much? I mean, I ain’t nothing special to chase me around for weeks,” you shrugged your arms. “And don’t get me wrong – or actually do get me wrong, the hell do I care? – but I don’t want to be just another number in your book, Benny,” you explained and Benny thought to himself that he wished you could see yourself through his eyes.
“You’re a whole book, kitty,” he winked at you and you couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Sometimes his flirting had this effect on you whether you liked it or not. “And I can’t wait to read it all,” he added, encouraged by your reaction.
“You can read?” You asked, teasingly.
“I’m full of surprises,” he smirked.
“That I see,” you laughed. “Um… I should go now… My ma’s watching us.”
“I can see,” Benny nodded and looked up at the window upstairs. He waved his hand and you grabbed him by his wrist to pull it down.
“Stop it!” You kept laughing at him and then you realised your face was only a few inches away from his as he was still sitting on his motorbike, ready to drive away any given moment.
A short moment of silence occurred between you two and you just kept staring into each other’s eyes as playful smiles disappeared from your faces. You swallowed thickly and fixed his jacket, not knowing what to do with your hands.
“You have a shift tomorrow?” He broke the silence.
“In the evening,” you nodded.
“So… See you?” Benny asked, unsurely.
“See you,” you smiled at him and he smiled back, relieved. “And hey, thanks for… For being there for me when I was with the… With the asshole,” you lowered your voice and took a step back to give him space now – finally.
“No need to thank me,” he shrugged his arms. “It’s just the thing I do, ain’t it?”
You furrowed your brows at those words.
“Protectin’ my girl,” he winked at you and the engine roared, making you take a few more steps back. And then he drove away – just like that.
Shaking your head and hugging your own self to feel warmer, you walked to the front door of your house, biting on your lip and not being able to help a chuckle.
Apparently, Benny had already decided that you were his girl. And, apparently – you enjoyed it.
MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST
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on this fine saturday evening, i’m thinking about bikeriders benny learning how to deep throat, eyes glistening with tears, a little red round the edges to match the blush on his cheeks and down his neck, johnny thumbing along his lips to guide him, the rest of the club watching, palming themselves as they wait for their turn to get benny gagging round their cocks
brainrotting w @johnslittlespoon is so fun
#the brainrot has been rottingggg#c writes#the bikeriders#benny cross#benny x johnny#benny x the vandals
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Blue jeans | Benny Cross
Pairing. Benny Cross x afab!reader
Prompt. ‘Told you when we met what you were in for.’
Warnings. Slight spoilers if you haven’t seen the movie yet!, angst (like a lot) cause that mane Benny needs a hug fr, language (cussing), one mention of character death, smoking cigarettes anddddd I think that’s it
Note. Tried to write the dialogue the best way I could to go along with the movie and how they talk in Chicago but I most likely didn’t do as well as I think I did cause I’m from Mississippi (yeah country asf living in the southern belt) and sometimes you can see it in my writing lmao. Got the inspo to write this form the song blue jeans cause it’s LITERALLY about him you can’t tell me otherwise. Also, Kathy is the star of this movie I swear. Anywho enjoy 😇
Wc. 3.2k+ (gah damn)
None of this was your speed. The grown men crowded around the bar from the front doors to the back wall, all huddled into groups like they were planning something. Earrings hanging out some of their ears while others had their belly buttons showing - the coils of chest hair damp with sweat as visible as ever, but it was obvious that they couldn’t care less. From the moment you opened the door, clouds of cigarette smoke that outweighed the amount of oxygen there was puffed into your face. It swirled around so much that you could see it in the air. And the way they spoke - you couldn’t believe your ears. It was all ‘F’ this and ‘F’ that so much that it could drive a person up the wall or make their ears bleed.
Oh, these guys were animals. But they all had one thing in common— the jacket they wore.
Walking in, you kept your head down as you shoved past all the bozos that made it almost impossible to get to the table your aunt was waving you over from, so you didn’t get a good look at them. You didn’t want to get a good look at them; by first glance, you’d seen enough.
It was obvious that you didn’t fit in with a single person in that bar. Hands gripped at your hips as you passed through the crowd - a blatant look of almost disgust and fear on your face. When you sat down, a shaky breath escaped your lips as you scanned the bar, wide eyed, like a deer in headlights. You could hear your aunt telling you to calm down— that these guys just wanted to have a little fun.
No matter how bad you didn’t want to stare, you couldn’t help it. Gaze locked on the back of one of the guys' jackets, you could see the patches that littered it with all kinds of words and symbols; but on the back, there was a skull with big white letters above it—
“Vandals— the hell you got me in here with these guys for?” you said in a low voice like you were afraid one of them might hear you.
“Whatever, niece, these guys ain’t all that bad.”
“I don’t even know what a Vandal is,” the look on her face told you that she didn’t either. Of course you knew about these ‘motorcycle clubs’ that keep popping up all over the midwest, but you never put a second thought to it. They were a bunch of guys that had too much time on their hands— with that time, they sat around and talked about bikes all day while getting stoned and drunk.
It was obvious that they were, in fact, one of these clubs. The moment you pulled up to the bar, there were rows upon rows of motorcycles out front. That sight alone made you get back in your car and contemplate driving off. You didn't want anything to do with any club, that's why you had been so alert since you got there. Eyes darting around to try and keep an eye on all of the men that were in your view.
“And that's exactly what your problem is, niece, you're such a square.”
“I’m not a square… I’m just not stupid.” An audible scoff came from her at your words. You could see her get up from the table out of the corner of your eye as you continued to look around the bar. She’d said something about getting a drink before she left, but you couldn’t focus on her right then - too busy trying to hear what the group of guys huddled near your table were plotting. They had to have been plotting something, cause who just gets in a huddle with their arms around each other to ‘talk’? People who plot shit.
After waiting a little while for your aunt to return, you couldn’t take it anymore. Lord knows you didn't want to be in this place any way, let alone by yourself. You stood from your seat and tried to look around people who were in your way to see if you could see where she had gone. But you didn’t.
Letting out a heavy sigh, you sat back in your chair reluctantly with a scowl on your face. Arms folded across your chest, you tried to look as unapproachable as possible to everyone who passed by your table.
“What’s with the look?”
A deep, almost gravely voice came from beside you - where your aunt had been sitting before. It should have scared you, but it was soothing to hear. You turned towards the voice to be met with a tall, lean yet muscular man who stood before you. A few tattoos littered his arms from what the sleeveless shirt allowed you to see. Two chunky-ish rings blinged in the dim lighting above the table. His dirty blonde hair matches the bit of stubble on his face.
Staring, wide eyed at him, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak— or to blink. You had never seen a man like this a day in your life. He didn’t look like the rest of those animals in this bar. Hell, he looked better than any man outside this bar.
Swinging a chair around towards you, he sat close enough to where you could feel his breath fan against your face. The look in his eyes was amusing and expecting as he waited for you to answer his question. But you couldn’t. You just stared at him.
From the moment you saw him, in the best way possible— he made your eyes burn.
He chuckled lightly before licking his lips, resting his chin on his forearms. “I’m Benny.”
“Hi…” You said breathlessly. That same slick smile on his lips, he stood from his chair wordlessly, running his hand along the back of yours before walking away.
-
Your arms folded across your chest tightly as you waited to cross the street right outside the bar to get to your car. There were no other cars coming, but you were still waiting for the ‘walk’ signal. Crisp air blew harshly against your ears to the point where they hurt— but that was the last of your thoughts. Every other thought in your mind was clouded or disappeared. All of them were taken over by the thought of him. Of Benny.
He was unlike anything you’d ever seen. His image burned into your head: the black, sleeveless shirt that showed off his tattooed arms. Dark washed blue jeans. Blue eyes that looked as if they had everything to hide. Bruised hands that had two large rings, but his hands made them look small. Stubbled face. It was like James Dean. Everything about him was the opposite of you— a match made in heaven.
The bar door opened behind you, making you look over your shoulder. Benny walked out of the bar, hand digging out a cigarette and a lighter. You watched, unable to look away as he placed the cigarette between his lips, cupping his hand around it so the wind wouldn’t blow out the fire from the lighter. He stuffed the lighter into his Vandals jacket pocket, swinging his leg over his bike before kicking it as hard as he could. The engine roared loudly that it sounded like it would break down any minute. The sound of it made you jump, pulling you back to reality.
A blinking light flashed, telling you that you could walk across the street - but you stood there - arms still folded, eyes burning from your stare, lips chapped from the air.
Benny twisted the handle of his bike, looking over his shoulder at you wordlessly. Taking a long pull before blowing the smoke out slowly. The sight made your head fuzzy, it was beautiful.
The bar doors opened again and people came rushing out. Your heart skipped a beat at the sudden yelling and chanting. You had no clue what the hell they were on about, but when you looked back at Benny, you could see him scoot forward on his bike while looking at you with a crooked smile. Your steps were slow as you approached his bike, eventually reaching it and placing your hands on his shoulders gently.
Swinging your leg over and settling on the seat, you could feel Bennys hand cup around the back of your knee, moving you closer to him before he kicked at the bike again and took off through the red light.
Your cheek pressed against his shoulder, arms wrapped around his waist tightly. As many stop lights as he's run from the time you got onto that bike-- you should be terrified for your life. Your eyes shut tightly each time he sped between cars. Each time, you gripped onto him harder.
His same laugh from earlier reached your ears. “I got you. Don’t worry, dove, okay?”
Nodding against his shoulder, you opened your eyes to see that you were approaching the highway. A smile spread onto your lips softly at the sight of the open road. No one else in sight for miles.
Just you and Benny.
-
“Benny, where are you going?” Your voice was soft, words slightly mumbled from you biting nervously at your thumbnail as you watched Benny from the doorway, pulling on his Vandals jacket hurriedly.
“Gotta go meet Johnny.” His words were almost dismissive as he picked up his bike keys, shoving them in his pocket with his cigarettes. Of course. You knew that the club was Bennys family… Johnny was like his father. But the club isn't the same anymore. It’s not how it was when you met Benny. So much had changed in a year. You married Benny within weeks of meeting him. You became a part of his life— his riding, his loyalty to the club, his hospital visits, his fights, his lawyers and jail cells.
He moved in with you and everything you knew changed. It wasn’t that you didn’t want Benny in your house or a part of your life. You loved him with everything in you. Any time the phone would ring, your heart stopped, thinking something had happened to Benny… again. But now, you couldn’t imagine your life without him. He was all you cared for. But this fucking club.
You couldn't take it anymore.
It wasn’t so bad at first. Sure, you had to get used to the drinking and smoking and Benny being out till 4 in the morning almost every. Single. Night. But the club was like a second family now. Until Brucie died.
Benny didn’t seem to be phased by any of it though. Brucies death, the drug deals being ran all the way from Canada, the new members who challenged Johnny everyday of his life. Of course, you knew Benny was seeing what you were seeing. But he still stayed with the club. Even after all the messed up shit that had been happening that made you tell him that it was getting out of hand— he still defended it.
“Meet Johnny for what..?” your words were hesitant as you took a step into the door, eyes scanning over Benny. He avoided your gaze, something he's been doing a lot recently. Since you had met Benny, he always stares into your eyes as if he were searching them. He didn’t do that anymore.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I'll be back later tonight.”
“Benny.” You said his name. Louder this time. His Blue eyes reluctantly trailed up to yours, brows raising once to show you that he was listening. Shrugging your shoulders, you shook your head slowly. You couldn’t find the words you wanted to say. You wanted to say so fucking much. You were sick of this life— sick of worrying about where he is, if he's gotten caught up in something that you didn’t know how to get him out of.
He said your name in an almost hushed voice, gaining your attention.
Taking a shaky breath, your wide, tired eyes found him. “I don’t know how much more of this you can take, Benny.” He dropped his head, shaking it as a dry chuckle escaped his lips. “The hell are you goin’ on about, dove.”
Bennys’ voice always had so much power over you. His words and the way he used them had so much more. The way he called you dove. In the early days of the two of you, Benny told you that he called you dove cause you were too pure for him. Too different— perfect, almost. He said that you could fly away from him at any given moment, but you never did. That meant the world to him. Your loyalty to him reminded him of why he loved you so much: you’d never go anywhere, no matter what he did. No matter what happened.
“You’re gonna sit here and tell me what I can and can’t take?” He said as he propped himself up against the dresser behind him.
“No, Benny, that's not what I’m sayin’.” You stepped closer to him, arms still folded across your chest. “I’m sayin’... I can’t handle worrying about you every second of every day. I worry even when you're next to me cause everytime I look at you, I see how drained you look. I don’t like seeing that when I look at you— it hurts me”
Benny lifted his head to look into your eyes. Your eyes searched his relentlessly, trying to find something in them— but it was the same as it was when you met him. Like he was hiding the world behind those pretty blue eyes. “I’ll leave then.”
“What?” Your face dropped as your arms fell slack at your side. “Don’t do this right now.” Benny had a bad habit of every single time something went wrong, and you came to him with a pained look on your face, he would tell you that he would just leave so that you didn’t have to worry about him anymore. He said it so much that it made you think he just said it so that you would beg him not to. Of course, Benny would never be that cruel to you. He never said things to just hurt you. He meant what he said, the only reason he never followed through was because he would think of you.
“Then don’t- don’t come to me with this again. We’ve talked about this before.”
“Well, we need to talk about it again. I don’t want you in the club no more, and I mean that.” You had never been so direct with your request as you were being right now, always afraid of what he would say. Afraid he would choose the club over you.
“Don’t ask me that…” His voice was cold, but you could hear the bit of pain in his words. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Do you not remember how we were before the club started changing? Don’t you remember the night we met?” Tears pricked in the corners of your eyes as you stood close to him now. Before the Vandals went to shit, you and Benny seemed perfect. To everyone on the outside, they would say that your relationship was far from it, but you didn’t think that. You would go with Benny to every meeting, every ride, every picnic. You would lay on his chest and sit in complete silence while you watched whatever was on TV. He would take you for rides at all hours of the night. Speeding past every stop sign in sight as he whispered to you to hold onto him tight. To never let him go. When things began to get bad, but not as out of control as it was now, Benny tried to tell you that he wasn't good for you anymore; but it was too late now. You were too in love with him.
“I barely get to see you now. You go out every night doing God knows what with them, and you don't show up until the next night. But it didn’t matter to me cause I told you that no matter what, I'll be by your side.” The tears that you held onto for dear life eventually fell, rolling down your cheeks as you brought your hand to his face. You gently tilted his head to look at you— fingers rubbing his cheeks with all the care in the world. “I love you more than any of them ever could, Benny. I want a life with you, and we can't have that if you keep up with them.”
His eyes found yours as he silently looked at you. Bennys’ lip twitched so slightly that it almost went unnoticed. Bringing his thumb to your cheek, he wiped away a fresh tear that was falling from your eye at that very moment.
“Told you when we met what you were in for.”
His words cut you more than any knife could. Kissing your finger that was closest to his lips, he wrapped his hands around your wrist, he pulled them from his face gently. He stood fully, causing you to back away, looking at him with wide eyes and furrowed brows. You were scared. “Benny? Benny, what are you doing?” You said urgently.
He walked out of the room and down the small hallway, towards the front door. “I’ll be back, dove, I promise.”
“No- No, Benny! Benny, don’t you walk out that door—“ Your voice broke with sobs as you followed behind him, tugging at his shoulders and arms desperately. He could leave. You couldn’t let him leave. It didn’t matter if he said he’d be back-- that could be days later. Weeks, maybe months. You didn’t even want to think of the possibility of years. “Please, please don’t leave… I swear Benny if you walk out that door.”
He paused for a moment, standing in the open doorway. You stood behind him, close enough to where he could hear you choking back your cries. Benny hated himself for making you worry so much. He hated himself for making you cry. You were his girl, his wife, his dove. He never wanted to hurt you.
Wordlessly, he stepped out of the door, slamming it behind him before quickly going down the steps of your front porch. Getting out the keys for his bike, he sat on the tearing leather seat quickly as he kicked at it when the key was in the ignition. He sped down the road, through all the stop signs.
You wanted to scream after him, but you didn’t. Instead, you locked the door and rested your forehead against it as it pounded from your sobs. No matter how many times Benny leaves, how many times you cry over him or for him, your feelings for him will never change. You would always wait for him to come back to you.
Your loyalty belongs to him. Your love belongs to him. You belong to him.
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She's A Spitfire - Benny x Reader
A/N: I can't help myself. This one's a little different, readers sassy haha. And this one is a long one.
Enjoy, and let me know what you think. Also, feel free to send requests :)
Boys and their toys, you always think when it comes to your boyfriend and his other biker club buddies and their motorcycles. Or anything with wheels really. And for their love of them, you found your Saturday out with the boyfriend, and his boys, at what started as a car show. But now also sported motorcycles, from a few different clubs.
Troy and his friends were discussing who’s bike was better, or what car looked the best. You didn’t know, it was all so boring. So you and three other women, partners of other bikers, were sitting around on blankets, taking in the sun and gossiping. Leaning back on your arms, one leg stretched out while the other propped up, you tilted your head back, eyes closed taking in the sun.
“Jeez (Y/N), do you need to be more on display!” Becky said with a chuckle.
To her words you popped your chest out more, smirk crossing your red lips.
“Better hope Troy don’t see ya” commented Danni.
“So what if he does? I do what I want, not what he wants” you remarked, making them all cackle with laughter.
“Can’t believe the other clubs here” Pam said rattling off names. “...Rogues and Vandals” she finishes.
“Just more bike wired men, who enjoy vibrations between there legs, and have drinking problems” you said offhandedly, making the women laugh more.
You always say what you want, making people think you were born with no filter. And that was fine with you. Even if it does get you in some trouble from time to time. The last time it was between you and another woman at the clubs bar, she had been mouthy and flirting up a storm with Troy. You called her out, she ignored you. So, you gave her some truths from her choice in clothes to her hair and skin care routine. She wasn’t a fan of you after that, going straight to slap you, but you caught her hand and gave her a serving of her own.
After that no woman in that bar messed with you, or your boyfriend. But that didn’t stop Troy from messing around on you. His taste seemed to have changed to cutesy, good girls who wore sweet dresses and heels. Even with this knowledge you still put up with him. But his time was coming, you could feel it. When the time was right you’d get your revenge.
“Sweet lord and Jesus’s!” Breathed out Danni, looking across the way, her glasses pulled down her nose, eyes looking over the top of them. “He should be illegal!”
You rolled your eyes at her words. After all her taste was – excuse the language – in her ass about eight out of ten times.
“Oh my” Pam said moving to swing her body around to face where Danni was looking. “Is he real!?”
Alright, now your interest was piqued. Lolling your head to the right, you searched for what those two were gawking at. And boy did you find it. He was tall, strong build. Dressed in a black t-shirt, jacket, dirty white jeans and matching dirty boots. He had messy blonde locks that one could run their hand through, or as you like, to pull on. Of course he was a Vandal, as his colors said when he turned around to take a beer from another Vandal. Then he took a swig of it, making the simplest of actions make you think not so clean thoughts.
“Someone serve me a slice of that” Becky said with a dreamy voice. You all agreeing with her.
You moved a hand to draw down your sunglasses, needing to see him in the days full light. Glare be damned, you needed this. Without the glasses tint, he looked even better. He was talking to the man that gave him the beer, nodding his head to whatever said. Another two men walked over, one with his arm slung over the other in an attempted to keep standing up, possibly from a little too much to drink. They laughed, talking to blondie before the one holding up his buddy slapped him on the arm, head gesturing in your direction.
All four of you froze, like a deer in headlights as blondie turned his gaze to you all. His friends continuing to talk and laugh, no doubt mentioning you four staring. Maybe encouraging blondie to come over. But he didn’t move, eyes locked on you all, or was it you? You weren’t sure. He took another swig from his bottle, yet never took his eyes off you. Feeling the butterflies swarming your stomach, you put your sunglasses back on, before lolling your head back to where it had been. You had started to feel exposed by his staring, so you had to cut it off, and get back your bad bitch energy.
Benny had made his way over to Johnny and Brucie after taking a leek. They were in deep conversation about an upcoming picnic, discussing the finer details. Johnny had handed him a beer, which he thanked him for before taking a long swig.
“Some of the women think kids shouldn’t be attendin’. Saying too many men are getting stoned or drunk, doesn’t set a good example” laughed Brucie.
Johnny shook his head. “It’s a family picnic, kids have to be there. What ya think Benny?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah kids should be there” Benny said not really paying much mind.
It didn’t matter to him much if kids were at the picnic. But knowing how Johnny likes to bridge his family and club life. It was a small thing to let him enjoy both, even for a small time. It was then that Benny spotted Wahoo and Corky making their way over. Corky had his arm over Wahoo, using his counter part as a crutch from drinking too much. When they finally made it over, Johnny asked them the same question he asked Benny. They both attempted to make a few jokes about it, but they weren’t funny.
“I don’t care if there’s kids, as long as they stay out of my way” Wahoo said, Corky nodding his head.
Johnny nodded his head. Decision made, tradition will stand and its a full family friendly picnic. With that decided Benny listened to the two new comers talk about Zipco going on about Pinko's, before Wahoo's attention moved to across the way. A smirk formed on his lips before he turned back to Benny.
“Seems ya got an audience” Wahoo mused, slapping Benny’s arm and head gesturing to across from them.
Confused, Benny looked to where Wahoo had been looking. There on a blanket sat four women. Three of them were sitting up right and gawking, while the fourth was lounging back. Out of all of them, she was the one to catch Benny’s attention. The position she was in, her chest sticking out in her tight sweater, was a pleasant sight to the masses. Dark slacks covered her slender legs, making him wonder what they’d be like straddling his bike, or his lap. Over all she was a vixen, no doubt a spitfire, if the air she gave off implied.
Wahoo and Corky kept talking, making comments about the women. But then they talked about her. Voicing Benny’s thoughts. Yet he didn’t like it one bit. He thought those words and thoughts should just be from him, no other man. Feeling his mouth dry, Benny brought the beer to his lips and took a drink. But made sure to keep his eyes on her. The cause for needing that drink.
“You should go over there Benny” Johnny stated, watching the younger man. “Go introduce yourself”.
Benny thought it over, maybe he should. What’s the harm it could do? What’s the worst that could happen? You would say no, that’s nothing. Feeling confident Benny watched as the focus of his gaze put her glasses back on, turned her head, and go back to enjoying the sun. He handed Johnny his half full bottle before pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up, the only time he took his eyes off her. After taking a drag, Benny looked to the women again, slowly releasing the smoke from his mouth.
“I’ll be back” was all Benny said before putting the cigarette back between his lips.
You listened to the sounds the girls made, Pam gushing over when blondie took a drag of his cigarette. You had to stop yourself from turning to look at him, you had to remain calm. You never give a man power over you, and by jumping at any little thing would do that.
“Oh lord! He’s coming this way!” Becky said slapping Pam’s arm. “Do I look alright!?”
“You?! What about me?!” Retorted Pam.
You sighed. “Calm down girls, he’s just a man” you sighed.
“A fine man, yes” muttered Danni.
Once more you sighed before turning your head slightly, watching blondie slowly walking your way. You reminded the girls to stay calm. But part of you was trying to tell yourself it too. Blondie continued to smoke his cigarette, which now you understood the girls reaction. He really did make anything look good. Finally reaching you, blondie came around to stand beside you, before squatting down. He took the cigarette from his lips and flicked it away, done with it.
“Hey” came his gravelly voice. “I'm Benny”. A beautiful smile crossed his sinful lips.
You did your best to keep breathing as you pulled down your sunglasses, looking Benny in the eyes, beautiful baby blues watching your every move. “Hi Benny, I’m (Y/N)” you replied sweetly, smile gracing your lips.
“Hmm, pretty name for a pretty vixen” Benny mused, making you chuckle. “Hey ladies” Benny added looking to the women sitting around you.
They weakly said hi back, unsure of their own voices.
“You know how to get women to quiet down, huh?” You mused pushing your sunglasses back up.
Benny laughed. “Don’t know, never taken notice before”.
You smiled at his honesty.
“But it doesn’t seem to work on you, aye?” Benny asked teasingly.
“Unfortunately, nope” was your simple reply. But in your head you were gushing.
“I like that” he stated looking you up and down. “You got a man?”
You smirked. “Yeah I do. Why? Think you could handle me?”
Benny chuckled, “more could you handle me, baby?”
“I can handle anythin' Benny. I’m not afraid of anythin’”. That was a lie, but you couldn’t back down. Nor could you stop yourself. His attention was electrifying. But part of you feared Benny could make you go weak, could even fall for him and his baby blues.
“Oh is that so?” Benny asked, smirking at the banter between you both.
“Yep” you replied tilting your head back and sighing, knowing full well you were teasing the biker.
And what about Troy? All you thought was Troy who? He had his fun with sweet girls, even though he had a sultry woman. If he was having his cake and eating it too, you could tease another biker. And if Troy hears about it, you didn’t care. You were done with his crap.
“Shame you have a man, as I’d love to take you for a ride on my bike” Benny said, with a sad face. “But, as you said, you have a man...”
You almost caved, melting at his words and sad look. But you stayed strong. It couldn’t hurt to give him some hope, right?
“Hmm, I guess it is for ya. But you never know, play your cards right and you just might get me on your bike”. You pulled down your glasses, shot him a wink before putting them back in their place.
Oh how Benny wanted to groan from your flirty ways, and that wink. Cherry on top. Licking his lips, Benny took a moment to focus. You were clouding his head, but in a good way.
“Alright baby, when you’re ready let me know”.
With that Benny stood up, and took his leave. He walked back to the guys he’d left. You watched him walk away, loving the view. All three women did, was just as good as him walking over. Then they turned their sights on you, all in a state of shock and awe.
“What?” You asked innocently. Though far from it.
All three began to talk, questioning you what just happened? If you were crazy? What about Troy? Could you to teach them your ways, and so on. You ended up laughing with every question. Laughing to the point you ended up laying on the blanket on your back, a hand coming to cover your mouth while sticking the other out in an attempt to stop them.
“Alright, alright. Enough!” You exclaimed, out of breath.
“Seriously (Y/N), what was that?” Asked Danni with confusion.
You shrugged, moving to rest your hands behind your head. “Dunno, but it was fun. Benny is quite the dish, am I right?”
“What about your boyfriend?” Inquired Pam.
Again you shrugged. “He doesn’t have to know”.
Becky scoffed. “Yeah, if you weren’t out in the open, surrounded by people. He’s gonna hear about it”.
“Oh well” you sighed. “Will make things interestin’”.
All three women shared a look. “Maybe. Or cause a brawl”.
You looked to them. “No doubt a brawl will happen. Whoever wins can have me”.
And with that you turned your face back to the sky, closing your eyes and trying to remain calm. Your heart was racing with the thought of Troy flaring up, you enjoy a verbal fight because it would lead to a hot make up session back home. But after learning the truth of what your boyfriend has been up to, you really didn’t want to have words with him. You thought about ending things, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. So, this could be your chance to drop him.
And Benny. Where do you begin with Benny. The man was gorgeous, dangerously tempting. Plus he was just as taken with you, as you were him. Or else he wouldn’t have been flirting. You’d gladly get on his bike, and let him take you for a ride. Take that anyway you want. Now you would sit back and see what happens.
Benny made it back to his friends, Johnny holding out his beer with a smirk. “Pleasant chat, hmm?”
He smirked taking the bottle. “Yeah, she’s a spitfire”.
The men laughed, Wahoo clapping Benny on the back. The men joked and talked, all about watching Benny and the spitfire. Benny took a swig from the bottle, chuckling at his friends. Glancing back over to her and her friends, Benny noticed that she was now laying on the blanket. It didn’t help him one bit. The things he was thinking he could do to her.
“So, when you taking her for a ride?” Corky asked wiggling his eyebrows, double meaning to his question.
Benny shook his head looking to the male. “She’s got a man”.
“When has that stopped you?” Laughed Wahoo.
Benny laughed at his question, he had a point. “She did say if I played my cards right and I just might get her on my bike”.
Corky and Wahoo hollered and hooted, Johnny just shaking his head with a smile on his face before taking a sip from his beer. Brucie clinked his beer bottle with Benny’s, showing his praise. Benny felt like he was on his bike, riding down an open road, the rush of freedom. But he wasn’t on his bike, or riding the open road. It was because of her. The spitfire, vixen with red lips and sultry presence.
“I take it the boyfriend is here?” Johnny suddenly asked, breaking Benny from thought.
He shrugged. “Probably”.
“I’d expect he’ll hear about you talkin’ to his girl, ya know?”
“Yeah. I can handle him” Benny said without a care, drinking more of his beer.
“The boyfriend should be the worried one” laughed Corky.
They know he was right, but didn’t voice it. They all know Benny was ruthless when it comes to a fight. To the point he has to be pulled off the other guy. Past brawls have proven that. Johnny having to wrap his arms around Benny and drag him back, which is hard when Benny sees red.
“Cross that bridge when it comes” Benny said, ending it there with him walking off.
It was later in the afternoon when Troy finally surfaced, after leaving you with your friends for hours. By now you sitting on the blanket, deep in conversation with the girls. But always keeping an eye on Benny, and seeing he did the same. You might have even kept teasing him, which got the desired effect; want. Yes, you continued to fan the flame, fully knowing that could or would it engulf everything.
Back to Troy; he came stomping over, a couple of his friends behind him. Troy had heard gossip through out the day of some biker hitting on a stunning woman. Gradually all the pieces coming out and he found out that woman was you. Furry filled him. His girl talking to another biker, another biker having the guts to speak to his girl.
“Oh shit!” cursed Danni. “Here comes the consequence”.
Not quiet getting what she meant, you looked over your shoulder to see your boyfriend heading your way. “Well, it took him long enough” you sighed, moving to stand.
Once on your feet, you dusted your legs and behind. Then you fixed your top, not even showing a care in the world. On the inside you were uneasy. Questioning how he was going to react. Would he yell and jump up and down? Would he quietly yell at you? You’re about to find out.
“(Y/N)! What’s this I’m hearin' about some Vandal talkin' to ya!?” Troy questioned, seething with anger.
You raised your bored gaze to him. “Just that, talkin’ to me. And?”
That didn’t help. Troy’s anger rose to furry. He grabbed your arm – tightly – and pulled you close. “What was that! Tell me now what happened or so help me”.
Your straightened up, keeping your face calm, as you tried to pull your arm free. “Troy, let go of my arm. You’re hurtin’ me!” Your voice raised in volume, but fell on deaf ears.
“Tell me if you’re whoring around” he yelled, starting to catch the attention of others.
“Ha. I’m far from whoring around Troy” you gritted out, still trying to free your arm. “Unlike you, of course”.
He growled, shaking you, grip only getting tighter. “What ya sayin’, huh!?”
Before you could think or say anything, you saw a fist come flying and make contact with Troy’s face. His grip finally freeing your arm as he staggered back a few steps. You held your arm, moving back from the man. Finally processing what happened, you turned to see Benny standing there, breathing heavy with tightly clutched fists.
“She asked you to let her go” Benny heaved. “No man should ever grab a woman like you did”.
Benny had just gotten back with Cal, after taking a walk to check out some bikes. Upon his return he witnessed a man, hell bent on reaching his destination, with an anger that only spelt trouble. And when he stopped before you, Benny knew what was to come. A verbal altercation or a physical one to defend you. As soon as he grabbed your arm, Benny began to slowly walk over, Cal and Johnny right behind him. Benny heard everything said. Accusing you of whoring around and his grip tightening to the point you were trying to get free, was what did it. And he swung his fist.
“You alright spitfire?” Benny asked looking over his shoulder at you. Choosing the new nickname over his favorite; baby.
You were putting on a brave face, he could tell but didn’t say anything. “I’m alright. But gonna have a nice bruise”.
Holding his cheek, Troy watched you both. A sneer on his face. “Take it you’re the Vandal this whore was flirtin’ with” he spat.
It only stoked the flame in Benny. How dare this man so easily doubt you, call you a whore. “If anythin’ I’m the one who talked to her” Benny defended flexing his hands, itching to connect them to his face some more.
Troy laughed. “No need to lie for her. She ain’t nothin’ but trouble”.
You felt anger rising, replacing the unease. “Other way around baby” you spat out.
Troy’s laughter died, eyes narrowing in on you. “Stay out of it sweetheart, the men are talkin’”
“Man” you corrected, “I only see one and he’s defendin’ me”.
That got under his skin, and Troy made to go for you but Benny grabbed him before pushing him back. “I wouldn’t even try it”.
Troy laughed dryly. “Might straighten her out”.
That was it, last strike. Benny lost it, fist connecting with Troy’s face again and then again. The first time Troy copped the full hit, but managed to get a half block in. Then he returned Benny’s fists with his own, getting a hit in. You moved away from them, calling out for them to stop but they weren’t listening. Troy’s buddy’s went in to helped their friend, but Cal and Johnny made sure they were taken care of. A full on three way brawl was taking place, with so many on lookers.
Troy managed to dodge Benny and step away from him, but unlucky for him Benny charged at him, tackling him to the ground and waling on him. This was when Cal and Johnny noticed the anger of their friend. Troy’s buddies just watching, afraid to step in to help him. Johnny was the one to grab Benny, but he couldn’t pull him away, until Cal helped him. They were telling Benny to stop, it was enough. Sitting on the grass, both men with him, holding an arm. Benny saw the damage he’d done, to Troy and his own hands. Spitting he went to stand, his friends moving to help him.
“Don’t ever say those words about or too (Y/N) again, or to anyone. Ya hear!?” Benny’s voice was breathless and more gravelly.
Troy just nodded his head, making noises in pain.
Benny turned to you. “Sorry about that spitfire, just don’t like a man disrespecting a woman”.
You nodded, offering a small smile. “Thanks for coming to my rescue”.
He chuckled, “always” and winked. Yet it hurt from getting clocked in the eye.
“Alright, come on. Let’s get ya cleaned up” Johnny said patting Benny on the back, and starting to uncomfortably walk back to his spot.
Cal also patted Benny before walking back too.
Benny looked back to you. “Ya comin’ baby?” He asked, not caring anymore and just calling you what he wanted.
You smiled grabbing your bag and stepping up to him. “Sure Benny”.
He wrapped his arm around you and you both moved to pass Troy, before he grabbed your slacks. “What about me? Ya boyfriend?”
You looked to Benny, before moving from his arm and leaning down to Troy. “It’s over. Plain and simple”.
He sputtered. “Huh!? Who’s gonna look after me!?”
You smiled at his sweetly. “I dunno, maybe ask Anna or Stefanie or Doris to take care of you. Because this whore ain’t ya girl anymore”.
With that, you put Benny’s arm around you again and you both headed over to his friends. You helped clean up Benny’s hands and face. He liked having your attention on him, liked how careful you were cleaning and wrapping up his hands. Once done you took a seat next to him with a sigh, head leaning back against the car you were both sitting beside.
“Sorry you had to step in back there” you said softly. “I didn’t expect that to happen”.
Benny chuckled. “It’s my fault. I struck first, talk later. It’s my style”.
You laughed, a genuine laugh. “Well, how about we both say sorry then”.
Benny nodded. “Sounds good to me”.
A comfortable silence fell between you too. You looked over to your friends, who were glancing at you both occasionally. Were they still your friends? After all they were with other bikers in Troy’s club. So, where does this leave you, with such a public break up too. Only time would tell.
Feeling restless you sat up and turned to Benny. “Your offer still stands for a ride on your bike?”
He looked at you with a raised eyebrow.
“I feel like I need a change of scenery” you gestured to your friends, as well as Troy and his boys further behind the girls.
He nodded before standing. Benny held out his hand and you took it carefully, before he pulled you up, not caring about the pain. You wanted to leave, go anywhere from here and what happened. Leading you to his bike, it didn’t take long for him to get on and start the bike up, the roar catching people’s attention. Without trouble you got on behind him, hands wrapping around his body, hands resting against his firm stomach. Then Benny took off, heading out and onto the road. Letting his bike take you both wherever, and enjoy the freedom it gives you both.
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Blue Swallow
On the road with Benny isn’t always a dream, especially being broke down on the side of the road in New Mexico.
Benny Cross x Reader fluff.
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: swearing, smoking, talk of marriage, talk of sex, anxiety, heated making out, of-13 touching.
A/n: I fear that my obsession with Benny isn't slowing
It was in the barren desert golden hour of New Mexico that Benny’s bike had finally choked. You heard the faint guzzle noise back in Arizona and his deep sigh. He hated stopping. Once Benny stopped, his high did and Benny always loved being high. It kept him sane. You clung onto his broad shoulders as he leaned forward for momentum. The heavy backpack with both his and your clothes weighed you down. The back of his golden hair curled at the nape of his neck was drenched with sweat. He wore a cutoff-sleeved leather jacket of the vandals colors. The sun beat him down as he drove. The sweat ran down his forehead into his eyes. The dry humid heat covers you both as a blanket.
He groans deep in his chest as the bike finally slows and he pulls over on the highway's shoulder. He hadn’t and neither did you see a car nor a bike on the highway for the past hour. The once great idea of traveling Route 66 in its completion seemed like a nightmare now.
He turned off the ignition and shifted to give you the key. You take it and put it into the backpack. It’s quiet and he doesn’t say a word, neither do you. He takes a pack of cigarettes out of his vest and plucks one out to smoke. The smoke swirls around his head like a halo. His agitation calms into an anxious hum. He stays silent and smokes his cigarette for a while until it burns to the end. He takes another and starts to burn that one. He runs one of his hands through his hair to push back the fallen strands on his forehead.
Your hand falls off his shoulder and your fingers lightly trace over his tattoo. Planting your sweaty forehead on his back you breathe heavily. Throat hoarse from dehydration. Your mind was strangely calm at the inconvenience.
Nighttime would happen as you walked to the nearest city and Benny would rather die than leave his bike on the side of the highway. So with a heavy heart, he gets off the bike. He places his hand on the small of your back and the other takes your hand as he helps you off the bike. The cigarette dangling between his lips. His blue eyes look wild with the amount of blue in them. He pauses, his hip pushed out with one of his hands on his waist as he points forward.
“Town should be only a couple miles, keep close and don’t leave my sight.”
You nod softly at his command. He’s paranoid about going into the unfamiliar town with his bike not working and then with you. Ever since Benny met you he vowed to keep you safe from the world. You didn’t belong in such a demented world. Sometimes it was unbearable, he wouldn’t let you talk to some members of the club. When attending meetings or parties he made you sit by him or wouldn’t let you be too far away where he couldn’t touch you. He was being generous when he said to not be out of sight. That was just how Benny was.
Shuffling your feet begrudgingly you slowly trailed in front of Benny as he pushed the bike up the road. His hair fell over and stuck to his face. The veins in his arms stretched as he shoved the thousand-pound piece of metal.
Only a few minutes ago you were walking behind, you had stuck your thumb out to hitchhike, thinking it’d help. When he saw what you were doing in his mirrors, he turned around in a fever, almost dropping the bike. He stomped his way to stand in front of you sternly scolding you to keep your hands down. His face flushed red as he kept his anger to a minimum, his agitation heaved. The veins in his temples and throat throbbed with the rush of adrenaline. He didn’t want to imagine what would happen if somebody picked you up and he wasn’t there.
Attempting to play Eye Spy, and numerous other games to keep your mind occupied. Benny was a lousy sport and didn’t want to play. You tried jokes that Johnny told you to lighten the mood and it made his mouth fall open with his cheeks and ears tinted pink. He’d never heard anything dirty come out of your mouth and now you were talking about naked hookers playing pool in bars.
You pointed excitedly at the small town ahead. Pointing and jumping with a wide smile. You put the backpack down onto the dirt, digging through the mountain of clothes and grabbing the paper pamphlet you’d grabbed at the last gas station about New Mexico. Enthusiastically pointing at the Blue Swallow motel and ranting about it to Benny. Once he finally caught up with where you were jumping. He kicked the bike stand out, grabbing both sides of your warm skin and pressing his lips onto yours.
Benny just prayed that his bike wouldn’t get stolen while he slept. He parked it right outside one of the motel room’s windows. He didn’t care if somebody was already renting out that room. That hunk of metal wouldn’t be moving until tomorrow morning.
The blue neon light of the swallows covered everything in its glow. He, unfortunately, looked like a wannabe blue fairy with his golden hair and pink cheeks, which you giggled at, remarking the thought to him which he embarrassingly retorted to not call him that. When you continued to explain why, pointing to his hair and cheeks. He looked around to see if anyone heard the conversation, grabbed your biceps, took you behind a wall, and almost didn’t have the heart to explain to you what it meant when someone called a guy a fairy. He looked into your eyes as they dimmed and he hated himself for tarnishing the concept of a fairy for you. He frowned and kissed your forehead when you began to profusely apologize. He whispered that you can call him the name when in private and it made you smile. He held your hand as he walked you back to where you first called him a fairy.
He opened the glass door for you and watched your little daisy dukes move in front of him. He almost sobbed as he felt the cold refrigerated air circulate around him. The scattered little fans worked as little pistons that propelled the cold air everywhere. The woman behind the front counter was older. She had long blonde hair and gaudy makeup caked onto her face. She read a Cosmopolitan magazine in one hand about American bikers. Disconnected with the world. You were wandering around the lobby looking at all the pretty shiny souvenirs.
“One room.”
She didn’t look up from her magazine and Benny thought about robbing the place.
“$100.”
He sighed and rolled his eyes, fishing out his wallet from his front pocket. He looked over to where you were, checking to see if you were still looking at postcards. The woman looked up through her big fake lashes and closed the magazine.
“I haven't seen any bikers around before, are you new?”
His eyebrows furrowed. He shrugged, he didn't really care to make small talk and all he wanted was his room and a Marlboro.
“Passing through.”
He mumbled. The woman grinned, reaching over the counter and touching his hand, pushing her breasts out as she leaned. He looked to the ceiling and gritted his teeth, his jaw clenching.
“You should pass through my room.”
She said softly and he shook his head.
“You don't get it, I'm with my-”
“Your sister?”
His mouth fell open, his cheeks rosy with shock. There was an age gap between you and him but he didn't think people would think of it like that.
“I'm sure she wouldn't mind.”
He feels your small hands wrap around his arm, feels the tug down as you yank him down kissing him quickly.
“I love this place, Benny!”
Some sick twisted part of him finds the reaction to the hostess humorous. Her eyes widen with fear and her mouth opens in horror. She finds a key and throws it at his chest, he catches it before it falls.
“I love it too honey.”
He whispers, kissing the top of your head before holding your hand and leading you out of the lobby. The key fob had the number 13 on it but he went to the door with a 7.
You questioned him why he was opening the wrong door and he shrugged saying that all the locks were the same and it was just an illusion of choice. It was dark except for the neon signs and street lights glowing in the room. You thanked God that nobody's stuff was already in there.
As he steps inside he immediately takes off his boots and colors. He shuts the door and locks it behind you, taking the straps of the backpack off of your shoulders and putting the bag on the chair in front of the vanity. The absence of the weight makes you sigh happily. He leans down and presses a kiss on your cheek with a small squeeze of a chaste hug.
He leaves his jeans and his muscle shirt on and props open the small window above the bed. He smiles as he sees his bike outside. Taking the pack of cigarettes out he places one between his lips and sparks it alive. Leaning over he turns the knob on the small tv to some western movie that plays. The sound is barely above a whisper. It's the only bright light in the room.
He can't see you as you shed your dukes and shirt, changing into a pair of his boxer shorts and one of his tattered shirts. Half of his face is shone by the light of the tv. The cowboys and Indians yell on the screen. The smoke swirls around his head and out the window. He lazily holds his head up against the wall. His chin jutted out to you. His lanky body half slumped on the bed and the wall. There's a no smoking sign above his shoulder. His muscle shirt is raised above the belt of his jeans showing the soft tanned curve of his abdomen and the patch of hair connecting his belly button to below his waist. His strong jaw stuck out to the side as he blew the smoke out the side of his thick lips. His eyes half closed as he fights sleep.
Watching eagerly as you come to the edge of the bed where his feet hang. He's always loved seeing you in his clothes. Something primal and proud swarms in his chest. He spreads his long legs a little wider and you step between them. Your knees hit the soft mattress as you crawl into his lap. Your thighs on both sides of his waist. As you lower your hips to his lap you feel the denim rub against the soft skin of your inner thighs. His boxers riding up around your waist.
He reaches out the cracked window pane and taps the ash off the cigarette. Lifting his hips up, you feel his belt buckle brush against the hidden nerves between your thighs. He presses his heated lips against the skin under your jaw. Your arms wrap around his shoulders as his kisses further. Your fingers running up and into his thick hair. Scratching at his scalp he moans into your cheek. He presses his lips on your neck. Taking a swift last drag of his cigarette, he flicks it to the pavement outside. His hands go underneath (his) your shirt. Flattening his palms on your back, along your spine as he runs them along the width of your torso. His tongue pokes out and leaves a trail of saliva as he continues down your collar. The cold air tries its best to keep it cold but the warmth of feverish bodies keeps it humid.
He removes his lips from your neck and leans his head back. His chest moving rapidly, his eyes are lazy as he looks at you through his lashes. Each heart beating like a horse running. He squeezes the fat of your waist, pulling you closer to him so you're chest to chest. You smell the cigarettes on his breath.
“I love you.”
He mumbles against your cheek. You whisper the proclamation back.
He presses a quick kiss to your lips, before deepening it. He takes his hands out from under your shirt and wraps his thick arms around your back squeezing you to him. Your mouth parts and his tongue licks across your own. You whimper something awful and his stomach churns and the lap of his jeans grow tight. He picks you up, shifts you to lie on your back, and slots himself between your spread legs. You can feel how much he wants you. It scares you how heavy it feels between your legs. His kisses slow as he breathes quickly. Yours matching his own.
Kiss swollen lips and a love-bitten neck. He tells himself that tonight isn't the right night for him to finally have you completely, so he shifts his body and lies behind you. Shoving his nose into your neck and kissing your shoulder. His strong arms wrapping around your ribs and holding you close. He kicks up the blanket around your hips. He's not cold, he's never cold when you're around but he knows that you do. He drifts off the sleep listening to your soft breaths, thinking about having to deal with the hostess to call an auto shop and dreaming of marrying you at the end of Route 66.
#xreader#fanfic#fluff#austin butler#benny cross x reader fluff#benny cross x reader#benny#benny cross#the bikeriders
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https://www.tumblr.com/nerdy-novelist017/754460919348740096/benny-cross-is-the-definition-of-scary-boyfriend
Ok yes but also I wanted him to protect Kathy so bad and it just. Never happened 💔💔
We can fix it with fanfiction ;) Enjoy another one shot to pair with my Benny x Bunny series! Again this isn't the next part, just a little idea I had!
Word Count-2.2k+
Summary- Head wounds look a lot worse than they actually are, at least that's what you were trying to tell Benny, but he was so worried, you doubt he's hearing you.
Warnings- Blood, Violence
Broken Glass (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)
The bar was crowded. You’d never seen so many Vandals gathered in one place in a long time. With an abundance of fresh faces wearing the colors, it was almost like a completely new club.
Your knee bounced as anxiety manifested itself into your body. You weren’t so nervous of the familiar faces that sat around your table. Johnny, Brucie, Gail, Kathy, Wahoo, Corky — those people no longer made you nervous. They were family now. It was all the onslaught of new Vandals that cursed, shouted and drank across the room.
A warm hand encased your knee, pressing down, firmly locking your foot to the ground. You smiled as Benny leaned into you, his lips softly touching your neck in a gentle kiss. His way of calming your nerves. And it worked every time.
“Alright, I’m gonna break the bad news to ‘em,” Johnny announced as he stood from his chair. The bad news was that some new members of the Vandals had been running up the tab at the bar and not paying for it. An entire week had gone by without them paying for any of their drinks — and they drank a lot.
Brucie stood next to him, cranking his neck to the side with a pop. “This oughta go over well.”
“It doesn’t have to be a fight,” Johnny muttered with a sigh. Despite running one of the most revered motorcycle clubs in the midwest, Johnny was surprisingly non confrontational at times. He knew what needed to be done, he just didn’t like having to do it. “Not everything has to be a fight. It’s just going to be a conversation.”
“Good luck!” you smiled, giving him a thumbs-up.
“Thanks, kid,” Johnny answered with his usual reserved patience for you and the two left, weaving their way through the crowded room. Benny started to stand too, but you grabbed onto his arm, tugging firmly at his jacket sleeve.
“It’s not gonna be a fight, Benny. Please don’t make it a fight.” You pleaded quietly, giving him your best doe-eyed look that you knew could get you almost anything you wanted.
“I ain’t gonna make it a fight,” Benny argued but reluctantly sat back down next to you. “I can be civil.”
History begged to differ, you wanted to say but instead lifted your cold bottle of pop to your lips in an excuse not to answer. You laced your fingers with his as you brought his arm back around your shoulder, anchoring him to you.
Minutes ticked by and you fell back into a conversation with Kathy and Gail while Benny’s attention remained focused on Johnny and the conversation across the crowded bar. Voices rose in shouting and suddenly Johnny was shoved back by one of the new Vandals members. Then fists started flying.
“Shit,” Benny cursed and, quick as light, slid out from your booth and rushed across the bar to join the fight. You called after him hopelessly, your pleas falling on deaf ears.
“You think these guys will ever think with their brains and not their dicks all the time?” Kathy asked sarcastically as she casually sipped at her beer.
The fight grew larger as more members of the club joined in, and you lost sight of Benny in the tumble. You bit your lip, eyes surveying the crowd anxiously. You hated to see him fight, having cried the first time you witnessed it. It was unfair that he put himself into danger like that, without a care in the world if he got seriously hurt. But that was a part of loving Benny; He was always ready to fight with the drop of a hat.
“Oh no,” you gasped softly as you saw a man twice his size suddenly appear through the crowd, slamming Benny to the ground.
Standing quickly, you barely heard the warnings of Kathy and Gail for you to stay out of it over the pounding of your heart. You pushed your way through the crowd, desperate to get to Benny, to help him. Bodies knocked into you, sending your hip clashing hard against the pool table, but you continued on, stumbling as you went.
Finally you caught sight of him again, this time on top of the other Vandal member, beating down on him mercilessly.
“Benny!” You called out for him, but your voice was lost in the ocean of noise. Your fingertips just barely grazed his shoulder before you were knocked back.
Suddenly something connected with the side of your head, a sickening crashing sound, and you were knocked off your feet. White hot pain shot through your elbow as it was the first to hit the floor below you. You landed hard on your side, the wind knocked from your lungs prevented you from crying out. The side of your head erupted in hot pain from the impact and it took you a couple of seconds to even register that you were on the cold ground now.
Your ears immediately rang as if you were standing right below a church bell during Sunday service, drowning out all other noise. But the rest of the bar seemed to freeze in shock when they saw you go down, all stunned to see their youngest member’s girl caught on the losing side of a fight.
You blinked hard, vision filling with stars, but you were able to make out the broken glass littering the floor around you. It took you longer than necessary to understand that you had been hit on the side of your head with a beer bottle. Attempting to look up to see the person who hit you, a cry left your throat at the pain of moving your head
Then that’s when all hell broke loose for the second time in a ten minute span. Johnny appeared in your line of vision, throwing a nasty right hook against the blurry figure of the man who hit you. He went down and a crowd gathered around him, legs kicking and fists flying.
You blinked hard again, feeling something warm running down into your right eye as Benny’s face suddenly materialized before you.
“B—Benny?” Your voice sounded so small and you hated the way you couldn’t tell if he was real or just an illusion of the person you wanted most when you were scared.
“Oh my god.” His voice sounded strained and you wanted to ask him if he was okay, if he was hurt, but your body felt oddly disconnected from your mind.
He moved closer to you, the glass shards crunching beneath his boots, and he slid one hand behind your back and the other under your knees. Then suddenly you were being lifted in the air, carried away from the chaos of the bar. Benny used his boot to kick open the back door and a rush of cool breeze greeted you first as he relocated you to Kathy’s pickup truck in the back parking lot. Pausing at the rear of the truck, he used the hand under your knees to lower the tailgate. He placed you into a sitting position on the bed of the truck, stepping between your legs, his face is right back in front of yours again.
The afternoon sun hanging low in the west gave you enough light to inspect his face for any injuries. There’s a split forming on his bottom lip. You reached forward and touched the injury with a fingertip, trying to gauge the severity. He would need to put ice on it before the swelling started. Although you can’t find any other noticeable signs of injury, his face was so contorted in torment, in. . . something else you had never seen before. Not quite anger, you’ve seen that plenty of times (never directed at you).
You tried to catch his eye, but he was so focused on the spot above your brow where your hairline met your forehead. He retrieved a bandana from his jeans and moved forward. Instinctively, you leaned away, your own hand reaching up to touch the spot that drummed with pain. Warm, sticky substance covered that place and you pulled your hand back to discover deep crimson dripping from your fingers.
“You’re bleedin’ real bad,” Benny said and only then did you realize that was your blood on your fingers. He tried again and this time you didn’t pull away as he gently pressed the bandana to your flesh. You gasped at the contact, squeezing your eyes shut from the sting.
“I know, baby.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “But you’re bleedin’ real bad.”
You knew that, you wanted to say. You could see it on your fingers, that awful deep red glistening in the sunlight. Your fingers blurred slightly and you blinked a few times to try to clear your vision. But it wasn’t your vision, you realized, it was your hands shaking. Suddenly aware of the sensation, you noticed your whole body was trembling.
Another voice sounded beside you.
“Oh my god. Is she okay?” It was Kathy, you knew without even looking up.
“I need some water.” Benny said. “Please.”
That's when you realized it was fear in his voice. You’d never heard Benny sound so desperate, so scared. You wanted to grab his hand and tell him that you were okay, that you just needed a moment for the ringing in your ears to stop and then you’d be alright. Really, it was him that you were more worried about than anything else. You looked back up at his face, eyes falling on his split lip once more.
“I–I’m okay, Benny,” you whispered, reaching for the bandana.
His free hand locked around your wrist, pulling it away from your head, stopping you from removing the bandana. “Don’t touch it, honey.”
The pain was subsiding, you wanted to say, even if it wasn’t really. You just wanted to calm him down. He let your wrist slide through his grasp and you reached out to gently touch his lip. “Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” he repeated incredulously, brows knitted together. “Bunny, you’re bleeding like you just took on an army and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”
“Head injuries bleed a lot more . . . They’re heavy bleeders because of the blood flow to your brain.” You attempted to ease his worry with your fun fact.
He looked unconvinced, pulling back the bandana to peek. “Yeah, where’d you hear that? One of your books?”
“Yeah,” you smiled sheepishly at him and Benny’s heart squeezed at the sight. You were so. . . small. So fragile looking sitting here with his bandana pressing against your pretty little head, legs hanging off the tailgate. Benny had to remind himself to take a breath, to focus on controlling his shaking hands. Had to tell himself to be strong for you. You needed him now. He'd be there for you.
Kathy returned with a bottle of water and Benny moved to the side a little, still firmly pressing his hand against your head. “For her hands,” he said.
She uncapped the bottle and gently pulled your hands out over the edge as she poured a stream of the cool water to rinse the crimson from your skin. You glanced down and made a sound. “Aww, no. My shirt. . .”
Benny followed your gaze to the once baby pink shirt now stained with booze and fresh anger coursed through his veins, setting his head swirling with images of strangling the man who touched his girl. You were one of the few good thing - pure thing - left in his world and the fact that someone dared to touch you, to hurt you, set Benny's jaw so tightly that he thought his teeth might crack.
With the creak from the backdoor opening, Johnny and Brucie came out, rounding the truck.
“How’s she?” Johnny asked and Benny glanced at his friend. Whatever expression Benny must have shot him caused Johnny to grimace. He moved closer to the two, putting a comforting hand on Benny’s shoulder. “Lemme see.”
Reluctantly, Benny lowered the bandana and Johnny hummed.
“Alright, ain’t that bad,” Johnny assured calmly and nodded at you as he spoke. “Ain’t that bad. The head bleeds a lot, always looks worse than it is.”
“See? I told you.” You quipped, fingers finding the beltloops of his jeans and pulling him lightly. Benny sighed through his nose.
“She’s gonna need stitches,” Brucie spoke from behind.
“Can you take her to the hospital?” Benny asked Kathy who nodded instantly as she stepped forward and replaced his hands as he moved back.
“Woah woah, what do you think you’re doin’ in the meantime?” Johnny questioned, already knowing what Benny planned to do.
“I’m gonna go kill him,” Benny declared as if it were obvious.
“No, Benny–” you started but Benny had already pulled away from you, making his way back to the door. He already planted the seed in his mind. He wouldn’t let anyone do anything to you and still have the ability to walk above the ground. This guy needed to be six feet under already. It was Johnny’s hand who grabbed his upper arm, Johnny who stopped him in his tracks.
“No, Benny,” he said quietly, leaning into Benny’s space. “You ain’t goin’ back in there.”
“He–” Benny started, unable to get the image of you laying on the floor of the bar out of his head. He wanted to kill him. He wanted him to hurt. He didn’t care if he’d be arrested for it. He’d been arrested for a lot less before.
“No,” Johnny’s voice cut him off. “You go take care of Bunny now. We’ll take care of this piece of shit. Hey, you hear me? We’ll take care of it.”
Benny held Johnny’s intense gaze as he considered his next move. He wanted to be the one to take care of it, but the severity in Johnny’s voice, the rigid way his shoulders fell up and down with his breath, the carefully selected words– Benny knew that this man who hurt you would never be a problem again. Johnny wouldn’t let him be because you were an integral part of the Vandals. And they protected their own.
“Okay,” Benny relented, taking a step back, eyes flickering to your small form still sitting on the tailgate. When he looked back at Johnny, the glint of his brass knuckles caught his eye as he pulled them from his pocket, sliding it snuggly over his fingers.
“Go take Bunny to the hospital. We’ll meet you there when we’re finished.”
"Okay," Benny repeated and he believed him.
-Tag List-
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#protective benny to the rescue!#also protective johnny ;)#benny cross#benny x bunny#benny cross x reader#the bikeriders#austin butler#austin butler x reader#imagine#benny x reader#angst with a happy ending#austin butler fandom#jodie comer#tom hardy
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