#corky x reader

[seethesin]

rotaries and roses

pairing: Tattoo Artist!Corky x Florist!F!Reader

tags/warnings: modern au, tattoo artist/florist trope, first time tattoos, suggestive themes, cursing, teasing

a/n: requested by anonymous here. this was my biggest challenge yet because... this is smut free and i don't have tattoos 😭 i hope you guys don't mind how many liberties i took with this! as there are no gif hunts of gina as corky, this will have a gifless format. enjoy! 🥰

You found yourself at Corky's by the recommendation of a close friend. Every time you mentioned your desire for a tattoo, they would practically beg you to give the tattoo shop a chance before pulling up their Instagram page. The first thing you noticed was the address. The tattoo shop was on the same street as your flower shop; how you hadn't noticed it sooner was beyond you.

Your friend was right. You needed to take your ass over there. And now, there was no excuse not to.

Out of all the artists featured, the owner, Corky, had your favorite designs. Her Neo-Traditional style blew you away, and it was the post featuring a canvas with an array of roses that sealed the deal. They had always been your favorite flower, regardless of the stereotypical label they held. Every bouquet of roses that leaves your shop always receives your special attention. They never fail to bring a smile to your face, regardless of the color, quantity, or occasion. To have them on your body felt right to you and you wanted them in Corky's signature style.

You spent the rest of that evening mulling over what you wanted. It took you a few more days, but finally, you came to a decision. You wanted a ram surrounded by Corky's roses. A ribbon would wind around the portrait of the ram with the phrase: My will is sturdy inscribed on it. The design was perfect and you knew Corky would do your vision justice.

Your consultation was the first time you meant Corky outside of emailing her. A studded leather jacket was haphazardly thrown over her white tank top. You couldn't tell what brand of jeans she wore, but they did wonders for her legs. Her steel-toed boots clicked on the hardwood floor as she came to greet you. You accepted her offered hand into a shake and couldn't stop yourself from memorizing the callouses on her palm within those few, fleeting seconds. Her brown hair was perfectly unkempt and a permanent, knowing smirk was glued onto her face.

"I'm Corky."

She was hot. You were fucked.

After your initial greetings, she brought you to the back where her desk was so you both could work through your design. You found as many references as possible, including the same array of roses you saw on her shop's Instagram page. Corky chuckled fondly as she examined the canvas, lips quirking into a genuine smile.

"This is some of my older work," she mused as if she was warning you. Her gaze flickered through her lashes, brow quirked inquisitively at you.

"It's one of my favorites," you admit and Corky's smile only grows at your confession.

The close proximity allows you to catch onto her scent: fresh smoke and citrus. You want her to tattoo it into your lungs.

"Give me an hour and I'll have something nice for you. I'll call you when I'm finished."

One phone call later and you were back in her shop. Unsure of proper etiquette in the tattooing world, you had brought back coffee for both yourself and Corky. You needed a pick me up and it felt strange not to share with her. Shyly, you offered her a cup which she graciously accepted. Your guess of Corky taking her coffee black was right; you swallow a smile at the thought. She leads you back to her desk so she can present you her work.

It's overwhelming how beautiful Corky's art is. Everything about it is perfect and truly, you can't think of anything else to add, remove, or change. The roses woven through the ram's horns, the brilliant blue outline, and the delicate font she chose for the banner were small details you would have never considered on your own.

Your lack of a verbal response makes Corky laugh, leaning in closer.

"Stunned ya speechless, huh?" she teased and you can't help but laugh with her.

"It's gorgeous, Corky."

There's something on Corky's tongue as she pauses. Silently, you watch her shake whatever thought it was away before refocusing on you.

"Where do you want this?"

You pause to think.

"I think my thigh would be the best. I've read that it's one of the better places to get your first tattoo."

This information slaps a smile back on her face.

"You read right. That works for me."

Soon after, you discuss the rest of the housekeeping tasks regarding your tattoo. Once you put an initial deposit down, you decide on a date a month later. You bid Corky goodbye and return to your flower shop to close up for the night. Before you retire to bed, you start working on a custom rose bouquet for one of your clients.

The roses are beautifully crimson, just like the ones Corky drew for you.

"I'll be with ya in a moment!" A disembodied voice calls from the next room over at the sound of the doorbell. You nod—more to yourself—before shutting the door behind you.

A month blew by quicker than you anticipated. Tonight, you found yourself awkwardly stationed at the front door of Corky’s tattoo shop with a cup of coffee in each hand. On her recommendation, you came well-fed, hydrated, and with eight hours of sleep under your belt. You donned a loose, simple dress, figuring it would make Corky's job tonight easier.

What you didn't realize was that she booked you as her closer tonight. The shop was empty and immediately, you felt yourself sweating. Silently, you asked whatever higher powers existed to refrain from making you out into a fool tonight.

Shifting on your heels, you visibly brighten at the sound of Corky's boots thundering towards you. She appears from the backroom, grinning ear to ear as she walks towards you. She's clad in another plain white tank top and dark jeans, revealing the complex sleeves her leather jacket hid. The most notable tattoo is of a labrys on her upper arm.

"Hey stranger," she greets, raising her brows as you offer her a coffee cup. "You spoil me; thank you."

You don't miss the way her eyes drag down your frame.

Corky's fingers slide against yours as she takes the coffee from you. Her touch is electric and you hold back from shivering. If something so innocuous got to you, you don't know how you'll last tonight.

"My pleasure." You don't mean to sound so breathless, but you were currently recovering from her touch. Corky merely smiles and beckons you to follow her. You do so wordlessly, stepping up and over to her workstation.

She sifts through her desk before pulling out the stencil of your tattoo. Turning on her heel, she presents it to you and you nearly choke on your coffee.

It’s perfect.

Every detail from her initial artwork has been transcribed onto the stencil. You find yourself hypnotized as you lean in closer. It needs to be on your body now.

"Corky," you start and she laughs, gesturing for you to sit in the chair. You do so quickly, placing your belongings on an empty side table out of the way.

"Don't go worshipping me yet," she teases, easily picking up on the dreaminess laced in your voice.

She drags over a small, wheeled cart, completely set up for your session. You're unfamiliar with everything on it, but you watch carefully as she sets up her rotary machine. After checking to make sure you didn't have a latex allergy, Corky puts on a pair of black, single-use gloves.

"I still gotta tattoo it."

Pulling her stool over, her gloved hand goes to your thigh. The edge of her thumb grazes the hem of your dress and tenderly—so tenderly you might faint—she pushes the skirt up. You meet her in the middle, pulling it the rest of the way so it settles just over your hips. Cool air immediately rushes between your thighs and you've never felt more exposed. Corky guides your leg towards her and the thought of her face buried in your cunt flashes in your mind. Swiftly, you shake it away.

You allow her to position you as she sees fit while she preps your skin. Once satisfied, she presses the stencil to your skin to transfer the design. It takes all of your restraint to stay still and on the chair. How were you going to make it through a two hour session?

"Go check it out in the mirror." Corky points her thumb behind her and her voice sucks you back from your reverie.

Holding your dress skirt up, you walk to the wall mirror and examine the design. Turning to her, you hold a thumb up as she stares intensely at the exposed flesh. She hums in approval and you hurry back onto the chair. You get comfortable and again, Corky's hands are on your thigh. She's readjusting you and your teeth dig into the inside of your cheek to keep from moaning.

"Are you ready?"

You nod.

"Let's begin."

The first ten minutes are relatively quiet. The buzz of the rotary is the only thing distracting you from the dull pain in your thigh. Well, that and the fact that her other hand is gripping your thigh in a way that makes your head spin. Corky pipes up first over the noise.

"What do you do?"

You beam; you adore answering this question.

"I'm a florist!" You watch as Corky's brows raise in interest, her gaze intensely fixed on your leg as she works. "I actually own the flower shop just up the street."

The buzzing stops completely and her eyes are glued to your face, lips parted in surprise.

"You own Fern & Flora?"

You nod proudly, practically glowing from the recognition.

"No shit; one of my girls, Sue, is there every two weeks buying flowers for her girlfriend."

Corky's machine whirs back to life and the prickly pain on your thigh returns. You hum to yourself, going over a mental list of your regulars and who could fit the profile Corky described.

"She's always going on about how her girlfriend likes the—"

"Violets." You finish thoughtfully, unable to stop the genuine smile growing across your face. "Margaret's favorite flowers are violets and Sue never lets me forget it."

You watch the way Corky's face softens as you speak. Her thumb presses against your inner thigh and your breath hitches quietly in your throat.

"What's your favorite flower?"

Staring down at her in disbelief, a chuckle pushes from your throat. You gesture to the tattoo she was currently working on, hoping to highlight the array of roses she was getting ready to outline.

"Do you even have to ask?"

Corky's shoulders raise into a shrug, glancing up at you quickly before refocusing on your thigh.

"Hey, forgive me for making small talk." The smile in her voice is evident and you find yourself grinning along with her.

"What's your favorite flower?" You toss the question back to Corky, ready to take her answer and brand it into the back of your mind.

She takes a moment to think about your question. If it wasn't obvious already, you could tell that this was something Corky hadn't previously thought about.

"I think I'm going to have to swing by your shop at some point to answer that question."

You can't help but blush. Was she flirting with you?

"I'd like that," you admit, fiddling with your fingernails.

Corky doesn't respond, instead reabsorbing herself back into her work. But a sly smirk plays on her lips and you have to stare up at the ceiling to keep your thoughts at bay.

"I think you'd like cornflowers." You finally state after a minute of silence. The cool colors and perky petals reminded you of Corky's persona. The bouquets that you crafted with them were some of your favorites so far.

"I think I'd like anything you recommend."

Okay, she's definitely flirting with you. Brazenly, you reply with: "Then I recommend you visit me sooner rather than later."

"Oh yeah?" There's a teasing edge in Corky's voice and you feel the warmth rise to your cheeks. Her voice drops an octave lower and you've completely disregarded the pain in your thigh. "And why's that?"

In that moment, you’ve forgotten everything about yourself. The only things you could comprehend were Corky’s hands groping your flesh and the irritating whizzing of the rotary. You suddenly feel hot and the idea of stripping your dress off grows more attractive with each passing second.

“I want to make a bouquet for you.” The sentence is rushed from your own nervousness, but you mean every word. “The sooner you stop by, the better of a selection I’ll still have for the season.”

Caught off guard, Corky sputters out a cough. However, she doesn’t stop working. The machine is still on as she finishes the outline of your tattoo without issue. You glance down curiously and witness her face flush crimson. A delighted giggle squeezes from your throat and you swear Corky blushes deeper than before.

“I’ll come by tomorrow.”

Your laughter is replaced with a kind smile. “Promise?”

She nods.

The rest of your session goes swiftly. Corky works like a machine: detailed, efficient, and insanely accurate. Your small talk comes and goes in waves, more so that she can focus on her work above all else. With a final wipe of her towel, your tattoo is finished two hours later. She grins eagerly before looking up at you.

"Wanna check it out?"

You don't miss a beat: "Uh, of course!"

You practically spring off the chair, stretching your legs as you scurry over to the mirror. The hem of your dress is still bawled in your fists as you stare at your thigh. You can hear Corky snickering at you while you fawn over her work.

"Holy shit..." You are awestruck and you turn to her, gaping before turning back to the mirror.

"It looks incredible," she agrees, discarding her gloves before pulling the rolling cart over to the side and out of the way. She goes to her workstation, pulls a few documents out, and scribbles something down as you continue to gape and stare at your new tattoo.

You return to Corky's workstation, gathering your belongings as you ready your wallet. She turns to face you again, handing you paperwork and guidance on how to maintain your new tattoo. You listen to her instructions carefully, unable to stop yourself from staring at her chapped lips every few moments.

"Do you have any questions?" You shake your head, averting your gaze to the papers she gave you. It essentially regurgitated what she said aloud, but you were thankful to have something written to refer to. Corky had also included her business card that you examined, noting the handwritten number just below her professional contact information.

"Actually, I do have a question," you start, not looking up from the papers in your hands. "Do you give all of your clients your personal number?"

Turning the documents to Corky, you point at the handwritten digits just below her work email. She flushes briefly before clearing her throat.

"Well no," she starts and a grin is already curling on your lips, watching as she gathers her thoughts. "But I figured it would make sense to give it to you. For tomorrow."

You hum thoughtfully, glancing over at her workstation before looking at her.

"Can I borrow that?" You gesture at a Sharpie marker on the side and she snatches it up before handing it to you.

"Give me your arm."

Corky stares at you, bewildered by your demand, but obediently offers her right arm to you. Your fingers clasp her wrist, outstretching it so that her fingertips just barely graze the top of your chest.

You miss the sharp inhale Corky takes.

Carefully, you jot your phone number down, making sure to avoid writing over the pinup girl tattoo facing you. Once finished, you push the cap back on and place the marker in her open palm.

"For tomorrow," you parrot, giddily watching the flustered look wash over Corky's face. She nods quickly, clutching the marker before stammering for you to follow her so she can take the rest of your payment. You trail behind her, already working out flower combinations in your mind for Corky's bouquet.

Out of all the ones you can think of, cornflowers and roses are the most fitting.

🦇 tag list: @crvptidsmain, @astroph1les, @uraesthete

[yearningandstillnotlearning]

so like ive never written smut and my writing is way different than any ive seen so i did some practice. and i expect feedback. 🧍‍♀️plus this isn’t about sm1 specific imagine it as you like

warnings(?): some pwp for the fuck of it, suggestive, sadomasochism, knife kink :3c, just a little sumsum

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cold. so cold.

shivers down your spine making you feel like a scared cat, if you could focus on that look on her face you’d think you also look like one.

a half smile, bent brows, so many emotions flowing in and out the current of your faces right in front of each other.

eyes don’t meet, lips don’t speak, breathing unmatched and trembling feet.

sound of clothes ripping interrupt the heavy breathing and unstoppable thinking

“you’re doing so good,” all in one sigh

no matter how wide your eyes are, you cannot see anything anywhere, yet she can see everything, even if you’re not speaking, she can hear every thought and choked word.

eyes on the hand

that hand that holds the knife

face flushed, legs weak, but you’re already laying down, how much lower can you go?

your hands gripping on your skirt are more prone to bleeding than your knife-teased neck

“do you not have trust in me?”

those eyes, so soft-bent, so shiny. you know they’re not sincere, their shine matches the knives and they look like they can break you.

[imwintr]

cold

pairing | corky x reader

prompt | “it’s a camping trip, and one character’s forgotten their sleeping bag” by scealaiscoite wc 1406.

Deciding to join the vandals on their Dayton run picnic was a last minute decision. Having never spent a substantial amount of time with any of them other than seeing a couple of them over your neighbor Kathy’s home in passing, it would be fair to say that you were skeptical about attending. Though Kathy’s husband Benny seemed friendly enough, no amount of friendliness would be enough to convince you that hanging out with a motorcycle club that had been recently accused of arson was a good idea. 

The only reason you even initially even considered the idea was because although you and Kathy had been neighbors for well over a few years, you hadn’t become friends until recently when she stopped by asking to borrow some sugar. She confided in you about Benny’s injuries and the whole Lakeside ordeal, so you decided to attend on behalf of her “moral support”. It wasn’t like you had much of anything else to do in the coming days regardless, having already taken several days off from work. 

Since you weren’t staying for the entire duration of the run–and obviously didn’t own a motorcycle–you settled on staying for two nights before heading back on the road. Already not being the biggest fan of camping in general, you attempted to shove down the ensuing dread that was bubbling in your stomach to no avail. That feeling only intensified when you actually arrived on the grounds and saw the copious amount of people that were already there. 

Thankfully, it didn’t take you long to locate Kathy, who quickly introduced you to some of the other wives and girlfriends who had rode in with their partners. She furthermore introduced you to the Vandals’ leader and founder Johnny Davis, who you were initially wary of because of what you learned beforehand, but meeting Betty made you believe he still had to have some decency left under all of that bravado. Afterwards, you started getting approached by some of the members themselves despite Kathy’s attempt to swat the majority of them away–especially one Vandal in particular.  

This wouldn’t actually be your first time meeting Corky, though all of your other interactions were in passing with only a few words spoken. He asked you to remind him of your name before taking a seat next to you, causing Kathy to roll her eyes before resuming her conversation with Gail. Knowing that a good bulk of the guys in the club were bums who had no foreseeable future other than risking their lives riding motorbikes, you could understand why she was trying to steer you away from getting involved with any of them (not to mention the present circumstances she was dealing with in her own marriage). 

“Enjoying yourself?” he questioned, pushing his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose from where they had begun to slide down. You had to admit it, you found him pretty attractive, although you would never admit that out loud, nor would you willingly allow yourself to develop any feelings for him. He was probably just humoring you or trying to be cordial since it was technically your first time at one of their events. Little did you know that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

“I guess so, is this what you guys call fun?” you attempted to joke, which he thankfully seemed to pick on and gave you a laugh in return. Someone else decided to sit down on the other end of the bench, causing him to scooch over to where your legs and arms were brushing up against each other. Surprising yourself, you didn’t immediately move away from the contact. That awful feeling of dread you initially held when you arrived was long gone, replaced with an odd giddiness that made it difficult to keep a smile off of your face or keep yourself from laughing at each dumb joke he made. 

Never having been the type to hastily fall in love or believe in something as ludicrous as love at first sight, this was entirely foreign to you–and made your current behavior borderline unrecognizable to anyone that knew you beforehand. It wasn’t like you were constantly irritable or anything of that nature, but it wasn’t uncommon to see you donning an unamused expression when someone attempted a romantic advance. If someone were to tell you a week ago that you would be practically cuddled up next to a member of the Vandals a week later, you would have asked if they were feeling alright. As the day went on, you spent the rest of your time witnessing some of the club members’ absurd antics and listening to the girls conversate about what was going on in their relationships. 

By nightfall, groups had begun to break out and settle around individual campfires before turning in to go to bed. It was only then when you noticed how cold it had gotten with the sun having gone down, leading you to venture out to your car to retrieve a blanket. Noticing your return, Corky gave you a teasing smile before he asked “Still enjoying yourself?”. Rolling your eyes, you took the seat he had saved you between Wahoo and himself, and nodded before pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. “Are you cold?” He questioned, his smile fading and his eyebrows raising in concern. 

“A little bit.” you admitted sheepishly, suddenly feeling foolish for not packing better and being more prepared for the weather. “But I’ll be alright–” you were cut off mid sentence when you felt him gently grab your elbow so your arms and legs were touching just like before. 

“Better?” 

“I guess.” responding with a shrug, you giggled when he rolled his eyes in response, mirroring your actions from earlier. Around a couple of hours later, you guess he had gotten tired because he eventually decided to lay down on the log and propped up his leg behind you. You did your best to ignore Kathy’s playfully judgemental stare but it was kind of challenging when you were practically sitting in between Corky’s legs (which are quite long by the way). 

By the time everyone had decided that they were turning in for bed, you had really begun regretting your decision to just sleep in your car instead of bringing sleeping bags like everyone else and sleeping closer to the campfire. You weren’t looking forward to the cold leather in the backseat of your car, especially after sitting next to a human body heater and a campfire for several hours. Once you bid Kathy goodnight, you began walking out past everyone rolling out their sleeping bags to your car that was about 30 feet away. Hearing someone softly call out your name, you whipped your head around to see a familiar face removing his sleeping bag from his bike. 

“Where you going?”

“I didn’t bring a sleeping bag so I’m just gonna sleep in my car.” Saying that out loud caused you to cringe internally. Why didn’t you just bring a sleeping bag to a camping trip? 

“You’re gonna freeze, just take mine.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t.” Apparently your back and forth was getting bothersome because someone from a nearby sleeping bag hissed for you to quiet down and go to sleep. 

“We can just share it.” He suggested before picking a spot to roll it out for the night. Despite not wanting to cause anymore of a commotion than you already had, you were still milling over whether or not to just share the sleeping bag with him or just head back to your car–but you made the decision to stay. If it was anyone else you would have been overwhelmed and anxious–but to your own bewilderment the man who was beckoning you to lay down next to him, whose legs were comically too long for the sleeping bag he owned–did no such thing. 

Squeezing in next to him you were immediately met with an arm snaking its way around your shoulder to pull you closer to him. Rolling onto his back he left the arm around your shoulder and placed the other one behind his head, leaving you enough room to rest your head on his chest. There was no nagging feeling deep inside telling you to get up and run away, instead–you felt oddly at peace. 

Maybe hanging out with the Vandals for a few days wouldn’t be so bad.

[iridescentprose]

I finally had the privilege of seeing bikeriders so I'd like the open requests now! I am open to writing for Benny, Corky, and Wahoo!

Request away!

[camillecrellin]

— Misc Masterlist

Who I write for: Angela Giarratana, Lauren Lopez, Natasha Lyonne, Tatiana Maslany, Nathan Fielder, Corky (Bound), Lily Gladstone, Kristen Stewart, Charlie Cale, Ian Hecox and more to be added!

ANGELA GIARRATANA

Video Store

LAUREN LOPEZ

n/a

NATASHA LYONNE

Never Have I Ever

TATIANA MASLANY

n/a

NATHAN FIELDER

n/a

IAN HECOX

n/a

CORKY (BOUND)

n/a

LILY GLADSTONE

n/a

KRISTEN STEWART

n/a

CHARLIE CALE

n/a

[queenramondasidechick]

Movie night

Corky x black reader

Y/n pov*

I checked out of the grocery store walking out with both bags in my arms I managed to open the car door sitting the bags in the passenger seat before hopping in the driver seat. I'm so Tired! I let out a heavy sigh as I started the car, my phone started to ring I looked at the call and it was corky. Hey are you on your way back yet? She asked me yeah if you let me start driving back there I said alright princess just don't kill nobody on your way back, I chuckled before hanging up and began driving back.

I walked up to the door struggling with the bags in my arms, I put them down and took out my keys opening the door to see corky pouring some wine into two bottles. Do you want to come help your girlfriend with the groceries or no I replied with a sarcastic tone. Then why didn't you say so love? I scoffed at her words shutting the door behind me. So what's today's movie for tonight? She asked while taking the chicken and washing it, how about Halloween? I like seeing you get scared, ugh! you're such a weird person cork. After a while I got done frying the chicken and was now fixing me and Corky's plate she had left to go buy some bread since I forgot, we didn't have much in her small apartment only a kitchen bathroom bedroom and a TV in her room. I'm laying on her small flat mattress bed with the lights off with only the TV bringing light to the small room. While in the middle of me eating I Heard a noise in the living room, I paused for a second making sure I heard it right and I did! I grabbed a bar that she had kept in her room slowly walking out of the room I scanned the areas. Corky if you're fucking with me I'm going to kick your ass! I yelled and I heard laughing from behind me and saw corky laughing at me with the bread in her hand. Ugh! You play too much I hate you! I stormed back to the room with her following behind me I'm sorry baby I just wanted to see the look on your face she hugged me from behind kissing my face I'm sorry do you forgive me? Ugh! in your dreams!

[superstarcherrycolagirl]

piece of you in how i dress

“cherry” by harry styles

benny cross x reader / 1.1k words

idea: benny rocks a new look

tw: none really, drinking, smoking, cursing, but just a bunch of cuteness

notes: sooo i sent a request to clo a bit ago (b4 we became bestie boos) and i was rereading what she wrote and it was SO GOOD so i kinda wanted to write a little piece abt that!! sorry if this is kinda shit imve been really really busy the past week but i wanted to put something out BUT i hope y’all like this :)) also PLEASE go read @semperamans work bc she is just TOO GOOD and deserves all the love !!

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benny’s always had a distinct look to him. messy hair, ripped jeans, sharp tattoos, scares covering his fists, and a chilling stare on his face that completed his intimidating look. although he and the rest of the vandals all seem to look the same, with their colors on and unique pasts merging together, benny was always recognizable and stood out like a sore thumb.

nobody really questioned why the young vandal was so feral, why his past shaped him into somebody who can either lurk in silence or create chaos out of nothing in the blink of an eye, because it wasn’t anyone's business. sure the vandals began because of the love to ride all day and night, but the community of people was built around acceptance of each member, regardless of their past.

so why the hell would anyone care? the guy just has a classic look to him!

until benny met you.

“wahoo you seeing what i’m seein’?” “the sexy redhead with that tiny skirt on? cause if you are-” “stop fuckin’ droolin’ for a second and turn that thick ass head of yours ‘round! over at the pool table!” due to drinking a ton and smoking weed, it took a while for corky and wahoo to focus on the same thing. and luckily they were able to, looking over at the pool table where benny was watching cal take a strike during their game. his dark shirt and dark jeans were so rough against his skin, that the pop of blush pink was throwing the two guys off. a little pink blob was tied around a belt loop on benny’s jeans, standing out like a sore thumb.

to say that wahoo and corky were stumped was an understatement “what is that shit on his pants?” “i d’know, that’s why my last resort was askin’ you” “ah fuck you too shithead! if you care s’much let’s jus’go ahead n’ask him” wahoo stood up first with corky trailing behind as they walked to the pool table, the mix of alcohol and pot in their systems making them stumble and laugh.

once they reached the table they immediately approached benny, perching their hands on his side of the table “hey benny! did ya’ fairy godmother visit you in ya’ sleep last night?” “or a.. a princess spare y’any gifts?” the boys started chattering, trying to hint to benny at what they were talking about “what t’hell are you goin’ on about? did you take some of that shit sonny got?” benny was genuinely confused, wondering what in gods name wahoo and corky took to be asking him about fairies and princesses. “what y’mean? look at you! all pretty in pink for us tonight! jus’wanna know what lucky lady gave y’that?” corky said with a laugh, which got the attention of cal.

oh here we go.

benny put it together in his head what they were laughing about, and a rush of pink started to fill the cheeks. he completely forgot he had your pink scare tied to him, you asked him to hold onto it because it was bothering your neck. he didn’t even think of it, and now caught off guard that his friends noticed.

he didn’t know what to say. was everyone else gonna start teasing him? telling him that he’s changed and now all soft? he had no idea. but as he was trying to open his mouth to say something, cal already beat him to it.

“you guys know who gave that to him, she’s literally been in here 3 times this week! spared your sorry asses some cookies that were for the ladies!” cal chirped in, his voice gaining the intoxicated guys attention “benny’s right, what the fuck did y’all take? can’t have y’forget so much that your dicks are hanging out ‘cause you forgot how to zip up your flies!” he said vulgarly, but earning a little chuckle from benny “now go smoke whatever shit sonny gave you outside! m’getting a headache” cal told corky and wahoo. both benny and cal watched them walk away, drowning in drunken cackles.

benny turns his head back to cal, seeing him take a sip of his beer before shifting his attention back to him “so how is she? i noticed that she isn’t with you tonight?” cal’s question threw off benny for a moment, surprised that he’d be asking about his girl. “yeah she’s good. she uh.. picked up an extra shift early for the mornin’, so she stayed home so she could get a good sleep,” benny said softly, the shift to talking about his girl made the blush creep even higher “almost didn’t show tonight ‘cause i wanted to help her relax, but she insisted for me to come here anyway” he said with a smile. oh how stubborn you could be.

“well i'm glad that she’s well, y’got a hard working lady on y’hands” cal said in response, noticing how shy benny got “listen, you and i both know that they're off their asses tonight, so don’t let their teasing rattle you, i know they respect her as much as the rest of us do” cal spoke to benny calmly, unsure if he was upset with their friends “no no i.. i’m not mad. i feel the opposite really,” benny looked down at the sweet pink scarf against his jeans “jus’happy that’ll get to see her once i get back home” he looked up at cal with a smile. it’s already getting pretty late, and benny told you that he’d drive you to work in the morning, so he might as well just call it a night and head out.

and just like that it was like cal read his mind “well why don’t you go on and get to it, i’ll cover our drinks right here” cal offered, which benny returned with a nod. he benny grabbed his leather jacket, and started walking away, cal spoke up one more time

“tell her i wish her luck, and hope to see the both of you on friday” “i promise i will”

and with that final promise he was out the door, hopped on his bike, and was on his way home. while driving down the dimly lit roads he’d glance down at your scarf blowing in the wind, and couldn’t help but smile. ‘a little piece of you in how he dressed’ some could say.

he couldn’t wait to get home.

[semperamans]

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

[theloveinc]

I always think it's a little surprising, irritating, endearing, something when big, tough men find solace in being gentle with their daughters.

There's reason to do tough things with them, too, to make sure they grow up strong and independent, but I think of a man like Simon "Ghost" Riley, who spent a huge percentage of his life being beaten down consistently by almost all the men who were around him.

And sure, he trusts the men in his task force with his life now, no question about it, but... I think the sudden calm he experiences when he starts to raise a daughter is beyond strange for him, but also weirdly... healing, too. Enjoyable.

That's not to say he doesn't, and hasn't, enjoyed the boyish things in life, the watching sports, the playing in the dirt, the pretending to hold guns part of growing up... but he finds himself sitting through your daughter's ballet class, overwhelmed by the calm that surrounds him, actually able to focus on the intensity of her pliers, her releves, the way her pink skirt ripples when she leaps into a sauter.

It's a new realization, a new kind of war (between him and learning how to be a parent), but it's one that doesn't revolve around the consistent anxiety that warps his stomach when he watches boys, little or not, teeter the line between roughhousing and fighting, picking on one another for shedding accidental tears that, really, cause no harm.

With your daughter, he's set in charge of watching her play with her friends and finds there is no lump in his stomach when she giggles with them, no dark possibility drifting in the back of his mind that she'll reach out and get her arm broken by someone she trusts--the fights she fights with her peers all between the characters they play and not between their fists, their games of laughter and drama and screaming but not of raging violence.

There's people who ask him, people who joke, wouldn't a man like him prefer a son? He must've been so disappointed... Yet, Simon still has yet to think of the best way to tell them that he honestly enjoys having a daughter a little bit more, that she runs to him and not for a second is he afraid she's hiding a snake up her sleeve, because she's only ever greeted him with flowers.

[puppywilliams]

im taking req again while i try and get this account together!! its a messs!! i will Only write about women, mainly from tlou, but if you have other wlw requests i Might do them! open to any au (yes even texting au’s) <3 love and miss u guys sm

[nerdy-novelist017]

Little Bunny (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

First time writing fanfic in years but what can I say? I see Austin Butler smoking a cigarette and giving Bedroom Eyes™️ and I'm suddenly a poet. Enjoy!

Part 2 here

Word Count- 2.7k+

Summary- Being surrounded by loud motorcycles, drunk bikers and hungry eyes was not something you'd ever experienced before. Neither was the intense blue gaze of a certain blonde biker.

*****

You didn’t belong here. That much was obvious. You in your white dress blowing softly around your thighs from the summer’s evening breeze. You in your kitten heels sinking into the mud beneath you. You . . . holding your Tupperware filled with homemade cookies. You felt the eyes of just about every person there burning into you as you walked across the grassy field, trailing slightly behind your friend as she made her way to the picnic benches in the center of what looked to be a makeshift race track. 

This is not at all what you pictured when Kathy had told you last night about a cookout and race she was going to. She had said that it was hosted by one of her friends in a club and that you should come to. You were just going to gently shoot her proposition down, but with one of your New Year's Resolutions being to push yourself to be more outgoing and attempt to break the shy vice that often gripped you tight, you reluctantly agreed. In a pathetic attempt to get the nerves to go away, you were up all night baking, something you found to be therapeutic as it gave your hands a task other than nervously tapping on something. Kathy didn’t specify what kind of club she was in, but she was always friendly and outgoing so you really had no idea what to expect, going in blind. When she made a comment about your choice of heels for the environment, you raised a brow, offering to run back inside to change. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she had said as she grinned at you from behind the wheel. “I think the club is goin’ ta love you.”

Standing here now . . . you would have never guessed this was the kind of club she was a part of. Sure, you noticed how her clothing changed some and she smoked a lot more, but seeing her interact with these bikers was shocking. She was like a different person. No, not different. She was still the same Kathy you had been friends with since 8th grade. She was just more confident now.

“Hey, who’s your new friend, Kathy?” someone called from your left. You glanced over at the many sets of hungry eyes that raked over your body as if they were a pack of wild dogs and you were a small rabbit. Your eyes widened as you looked to your other side to find a crowd gathered there too. “Introduce me to your little friend.”

“Fuck off, Richie,” Kathy called out nonchalantly, not even sparing them a look. You quickened your pace to be right on her heels, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the possibility of being left alone to these people.

“Kathy, I–I don’t think I should be here,” you whispered but if she heard your words, she ignored them. “When you said club, I was expecting a–a book club or something. . .”

“Don’t be silly.” She glanced at you over her shoulder, a smirk capturing her features. “I didn’t think I belonged neither, but look at me now. ’Sides, this club is way more fun than books, trust me.”

Before you could protest anymore, she led you to a table and you nearly collided into her when she stopped abruptly, your eyes still jumping around to the leather jackets and grime covered faces. You move to stand beside her, attempting to grab her arm and signal that you wanted to leave but she didn’t meet your gaze. Instead, she pointed a finger at the man sitting in the middle, legs spread leisurely, cigarette hanging from his mouth. 

“This is Johnny, he runs this club,” she introduced, moving along down the line. “That’s Brucie and his wife Gail. This big dumb idiot is Cockroach.” He throws a beer cap at her but she ducks out of the way. “That’s Cal and Corky behind them. . .”

With each member she introduced, you felt your courage sinking further and further into the ground. They each (including the woman) had an air of intimidation that screamed don’t fuck with me. Their leather jackets and ripped jeans hardened their appearances and you felt extremely out of place with your perfectly curled hair and manicured nails. They looked like people your parents had warned you to stay away from your entire youth. Growing up with difficulty making friends has left you somewhat naive and you’d never been around a crowd like this.  Yet suddenly, here you were, a helpless gazelle tossed directly into the lion’s den. Your heart pounded in your chest and you’re sure every person here can hear it echoing off the metal bikes surrounding you. 

“. . . and that’s Benny,” she finished and nodded in the direction of the person on the furthest left. Your eyes travelled up his long legs which are stretched out over the seat, up to where he’s sitting on the table. Your gaze lingered for a moment over the cigarette smoke pluming from between his lips before finally locking with his, and it took your breath away. It was like all the boys you had ever known in life, the ones you had been out on boring dates with, were just that – boys. This was a man. That was evident in his furrowed brow, his dark and unreadable expression, the way his piercing gaze moved from your face down to your toes and back up again. Trouble, his aura screamed, run far away from me. And you desperately want to grab Kathy’s arm and beg her to take you home, but she’s already moved away, making her way over to a cooler of beers, leaving you standing before them like an offering. You think maybe she had asked you if you wanted one before she left, but it’s hard to hear anything over the pounding of your heart in your ears, and even harder to focus on anything besides not breaking the intense eye contact the blonde in front of you was maintaining. 

“Whatcha got there?” someone from the table in front of you asked and you blinked, snapping back into the present. 

Benny had never seen anything like you. He watched from his seat atop the table as you blinked down at your pink Tupperware bowl. You looked like a doll freshly plucked straight from the box, every hair perfectly in place and not a speck on your pretty dress. The thought of running his hand up your thigh and dipping beneath the hem of that pristine dress, leaving a smudged trail of grease along your clean skin corrupted his mind, setting his teeth on edge with desire. The sun was just beginning to set over your left shoulder casted you in a warm glow that seemed almost ethereal, a picture of innocence and unspoiled charm. Your eyes, almost comically wide, glanced back up to him only for a second before moving to the others to find the owner of that previous question.

“Cookies,” you said so softly that Benny could barely hear you from where he was. And he knew then and there that he was a goner. 

The familiar pop of a motorcycle backfiring echoed through the air and you practically jumped out of your skin at the sound. You were just a little bunny, he mused, a smirk pulling at his lips. In one smooth motion, he pushed himself off the table, flicking the rest of his cigarette butt to the ground and stood to his full height. Driven by a fervor burning deep in his belly, it only took him a few strides before he stood in front of you, close enough to smell the sweet perfume you were wearing, close enough to see the blush tinting your face, close enough to touch you.

“What kind of cookies?” he asked in a low voice, hoping not to scare away this little bunny.

You glanced over your shoulder towards the parked cars and, for a moment, Benny thought you might try to book it, but then you moved your chin back and suddenly you were gracing him with your beautiful gaze again. He noticed the slight tremble of your slim fingers as they removed the lid and held the bowl out in an offer. In that moment, the air seemed to crackle with an unspoken connection, a promise of worlds colliding. No, he’d never seen anything like you.

“They’re chocolate chip,” you replied, eyes fluttering to the middle of his chest to avoid eye-contact. 

He lifted a hand slowly, dipping his head in an attempt to catch your eyes once more. He waited patiently until your gaze fluttered back up to meet his before he raised a brow in question. You gave just the slightest nod, and he dipped his hand into the bowl, retrieving one of your cookies.

You were locked into place, knees weak and head swimming as you watched him bring your cookie up to his lips. You wanted to look away, hell, you wanted to run away. But you couldn’t. You were drowning in his ocean eyes, unable to breathe as he bit into the cookie. Your gaze dropped briefly to his mouth as he swiped at it with the back on his hand, the muscles of his forearm flexing beneath tanned skin.

“Take her for a ride, Benny!” someone shouted from behind him and you suddenly remembered the rest of the group.

“Show her how to ride, Benny!” More egging. You took a hesitant step back, holding the bowl to your chest as if it would somehow deflect their teasing. You peeked around Benny trying to get Kathy’s attention, but she’s already sat down at another table, conversing with a small group of women. The women looked just as mean and tough as the men and you swallowed the lump forming in your throat. You take another step backwards. This was a mistake. You should have never come here. You needed to go home. These people – these animals – would eat you alive. The idea of just walking home crossed your mind briefly. But you were miles from your house, and you weren’t exactly sure where you even were – some farmhouse out on the other side of town. You needed to get Kathy aside to ask her to drive you home. 

“You ever been on a motorcycle before, Little Bunny?” Benny asked you, his voice hushed and almost drowned out by the razzing from behind him.

Your brow furrowed at the nickname. Was he making fun of you? Daring to look into his ruggedly handsome face again, you attempted to read his expression for any signs of malice. Surprised to find something kind swirling in his eyes, your lips parted to say something, but the words were stuck in your throat. “Mm-mm,”

He flashed a glimpse of his white teeth with a secretive smile as he took a step closer. “Can I be your first?”

“What?” Suddenly your mouth felt as though it were filled with cotton. 

He nodded over at the lineup of motorcycles to your left and waited for his question to fully sink in. You tilted your head, wondering if the double inuendo was intentional or if everything that came out of his mouth dripped with an underlying sensuality.

Trouble, trouble, trouble. That word rang out in your head like a siren, attempting to warn you and that’s when you realized that there wasn’t an ocean in his eyes. It was a blazing fire. There was a fire in his eyes and it threatened to burn every complacently comfortable thing inside you, threatened to burn every perfectly built wall surrounding your heart. 

You shook your head. “No, thank you. I don’t like going fast and I know that’s what you . . . bikers do.”

Was that a polite response? You weren’t sure because the smile on his face grew despite the fact that you just declined his offer. Any time you’ve ever rejected a man’s offer, they’d frown, grumble under their breath and walk away. But this man — Benny— just stood there, sliding his hands in the pockets of his jean jacket, tilting his head slightly as he stared down at you with a smile. He was confusing!

“Excuse me,” you muttered as you sidestepped him, quickly approaching the picnic bench Kathy had migrated to. Your cheeks burned as a few members of the crowd whistled. You set the Tupperware bowl on the table and several hands dipped in to retrieve the goods as you planted yourself next to Kathy. 

“Is this a gang?” You whispered to your friend and she laughed into her beer bottle. Since when did she drink beer?

“Gee, that Benny sure is a hunk, huh?” She deflected your question as she raised an eyebrow at you suggestively. 

Feeling his gaze still burning into you, you didn’t risk a glance back at him. “I don’t feel comfortable here, Kathy.”

“Do you want a beer?” She asked as she placed a cold one in front of you. 

“No,” you replied quietly. “Can we go now?”

She sighed. “Alright, fine. Can I finish my beer at least?”

You nodded but your relief was short lived when another biker woman sat down from across Kathy and began talking with her. Agonizing minutes ticked by. You drummed your fingers on the worn wooden table top, watching as Kathy sipped leisurely from her beer. Someone shouted as the racing bikes fired up, startling you. That’s it. 

“I’ll wait for you in the car,” you told Kathy and ignored the disappointment on her face as you stood and spun. You halted in your tracks when you find Benny still standing where you left him, still watching you. You kept your head down as you walked past him quickly making your way to the car. 

Weaving in between other cars and motorcycles parked in the far field, you breathed a sigh of relief when you made it to Kathy’s car. Once sitting inside the passenger seat of her pickup truck, you slammed the door shut behind you. Embarrassment burned your core and you groaned as you brought your hands up to cover your face. They probably thought you were some niave girl who was afraid of her own shadow. And you probably were but you clung to the slight relief that you would never have to see any of these people ever again. 

You jumped at the knock on your window. A tall figure stood outside your door and your heart jumped into your throat as you scrambled to roll down the manual window. Benny stooped over and held up your pink Tupperware bowl. 

“You left this.” One side of his mouth quirked up. “I’d say they were a hit.”

You glanced down at the empty bowl in shock. You had baked two dozen cookies and they were gone within minutes of leaving it on the table. A smile tugged at your lips at the thought of someone appreciating your hard work. “Thank you.”

You reached for the bowl, fingers brushing softly against his. A jolt of electricity traveled up your arm, through your chest before settling hotly in your lower belly. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as he lowered himself to lean against your door, arms resting over the window frame. His eyes roamed over your face as if he were trying to memorize every detail. Your mind struggled to find something to say to him to get him to go away but all thoughts were halted in their tracks as his eyes found yours again. Instinctively, you felt yourself leaning in a little closer to him, your faces only inches apart. 

“Can I at least give you a ride home?” His gravely voice broke through the thick silence. 

“Kathy is—” you started as you glanced over his shoulder to the direction of where you left your friend. Your words died on your tongue as you noticed her surrounded by a small group now, a fresh beer in her hand. 

Your gaze returned to him and you felt heat creep up your neck. “I—I’m wearing a dress though. . .”

“I’ll be sitting in front of you. Nobody will be able to see anything.” 

You fixed him with an incredulous expression before looking away. Silence settled between you again and you waited for him to walk away. Only, he never did. He just . . . waited.

"Are you just going to keep asking?" you griped as you turned to look back at him.

"I like to think of it as more of an offer." There was a teasing undertone laced in his words and you narrowed your eyes at him to keep from smiling.

“I won’t drive fast,” he said softly and your heart fluttered at the gentle promise. 

Trouble. Your head still reminded you even as you found yourself getting hypnotized by the intense blue of his eyes, so close to yours. Despite the sincerity in his eyes, there was still that darkness, that fire that burned through. That burning fire, threatening to cover a dark past. And you could see it, there was a dangerous undertone in that fire. Trouble, and yet you couldn’t hide the smile as your fingers reached to open the door. 

This fire you needed to touch — at least once, just to see how hot it truly burned. 

[storiesfromafan]

Jealousy Does Look Good On You - Benny x Reader

A/N: this was just me pulling something out of a hat, haha. Bit of writers block right now. But something is better then nothing.

Also, forgive me if this isn't that good. As well as, excuse my attempt at describing their kissing, its been a little haha.

Enjoy.

Tag list: @strayrockette

I wont look at him. I wont look at him. I wont look at him, you chanted over and over in your head. Determined to not pay Benny any mind. It's his choice if he wanted to entertain another woman across the room from you. It's not like you were together, nor his girl.

Your relationship with Benny was undefined, though you thought the striking Vandal was into you just as much as you were into him. But apparently it was just one sided; yours. And now he was showing another woman how to play pool. The very thing that led to you even speaking to Benny in the first place a month ago.

You had seen the raven haired vixen by the jukebox, eyeing up Benny for an hour before making her move. She had started talking to Wahoo and Corky, before Benny got roped in by the two men. From there – as you watched – she moved closer to Benny. Then she got touchy when they talked, laughing at jokes made. And then he was showing her how to play pool.

That was it. You had turned your back to the scene. Your heart not being able to take it any more. The beer you had been nursing, now your best friend. Kathy had been watching you, and the scene with Benny. Shaking her head she couldn’t believe how brazen the woman was, as well as Benny for going there.

“Forget him" Kathy said, shooting daggers at the pool table.

“I'm tryin'” you sighed. “I need another drink".

With that you got up and headed for the bar. Standing with your arms on the counter, you waited to be served. All the while hearing the obnoxious laugh of the raven hair woman. You rolled your eyes, wanting to gag at the sound. Finally you put in an order for two beers – you thought you’d be nice and get Kathy another beer – when an all to familiar body lent on the counter next to you.

Benny bumped his shoulder into yours. “Hi".

“Hi" you replied flatly, keeping your eyes straight. As you know one look at him and you'd be a goner, when you wanted to be mad.

Benny frowned, a confused look upon his face. “Everythin’ alright?”

You nodded your head. “Peachy" – your two beers were place before you, and you grabbed them – “you better go back to your new friend, she must be missin' your company".

And with that you walked off, leaving Benny even more confused then when he stepped up to the bar. Running his hand threw his hair, he was about to follow you, when Corky called him back to the pool table. With a moment of pause, Benny gave in and went back for a new game of pool. All the while trying to work out what was up with you.

“Here" you said placing a beer before Kathy, “thought I'd get ya one".

She thanked you, observing you after watching the icy exchange with Benny. Seeing the blank look upon your face, but eyes telling her how upset you were.

“What was that at the bar?” She asked, all motherly with you.

You sighed. “He came over and said hi. I replied back but I guess he could tell somethin's off, so he asked if everythin' alright”. You took a sip of your new beer.

“Your reply was?”

“Peachy...you better go back to your new friend, she must be missin' your company”. You took another, longer sip.

Kathy's eyes widened as she moved in her seat. “Was that smart?”

You shrugged. “Probably not. But felt good".

She laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah it usually does, until it wears off. Then ya feel like shit".

Again you nodded, taking a sip. “Yes, I know that. I'm feelin' it right now Kathy".

She patted you on the back. “I know. But do your best to not think about it. I doubt Benny is interested in her, I know he only has eyes for ya". She gave you a wink and a soft smile.

All you could do was give her a weak smile. God bless her for trying to cheer you up. But to be honest, you could understand why Benny would go for Raven locks. She was beautiful, dressed like she belonged here, and was confident. Everything you weren’t. You weren't an ugly duckling, but you weren't on her level. You were more of a young Doris Day, while she gave Marilyn Monroe.

After the exchange at the bar, Benny kept his distance. And that added to your despair. You really did shoot yourself in the foot. You stole looks from time to time. They looked comfortable standing next to each other. You even saw her rest her head on his shoulder with a giggle. But what put an end to the night for you was watching her wrap her arms around his neck in joy when she won a game of pool.

“I'm done" you informed Kathy gathering your cardigan and bag. “I can’t do it anymore. I'm headin' out”.

She frowned at you but understood. “Ya want to get a cab together?”

You shook your head. “Nuh, I'm good. I think a walk would be good. But thanks” you gave her a small smile. “Have a good night".

With that you moved through the bar, around various Vandals till you made it the main doors. The cool night air hit you, so you put on your cardigan, slinging your bag over your shoulder. With the briefest of a look in both directions, you crossed the road and began to head down the street. It would be a good twenty minute walk back to your place, if you walked at a decent pace. But with how you were feeling, a slow stroll would be your pace tonight.

Of course your mind thought about Benny, and how the night had gone. Usually when you came to the bar he would play a few rounds of pool before joining you and Kathy. He'd sit next to you, arm resting on the back of your chair. You both would share looks, you’d admire his beautiful blue eyes and killer smile. Or watch when he would smoke a cigarette. You'd watch him take a drag, hold it and admire how he would let the smoke out. As well as his hands, his fingers holding the cigarette so gently.

Other times you would lionize his arms. Noting his muscles and how they react to his movements. Or study the random tattoos that adorn those arms. But you'd always go back to Benny's face, taking in his stunning features. His strong jaw line that was covered in stubble. His cheek bones and full lips. And the messy blonde locks upon his head, just beginning to have a hand run threw them.

But here you were, walking home miserable and hearthaching. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, but you held them back. Just until you got home, and were safely behind a close door to finally breakdown. For you knew you were partially to blame. You probably pissed Benny off with your words. Or he didn't care, and took your words as a pass at the other woman. Either way, it didn't help you.

Turning right down a street littered with shops, you made sure to stay in the light and away from any allays. You weren't going to take any chances of some creep grabbing you. Maybe it might have been smart to get a taxi after all.

The closing in sound of a motorbike caught your ears, but you didn't pay it any mind. Too focused on wallowing in self pity and getting home. Hearing it slow down, before stopping by the curb caused you to panic a little. Why would someone stop near you, when the street was empty. You decided to pick up the pace, clutching your bag.

It was when a large, calloused hand grabbed your arm, did you jump and make a scared sound. They held onto you tightly when you tried to pull away. Then they pulled you back around, and you were met with concerned baby blues looking at you.

“Hey, it's only me" Benny said in a calm voice.

Hearing his voice you relaxed a little, letting yourself take a few slow breaths to calm your racing heart.

“What are ya doin' walkin' home, let alone, at this time of night, doll?” Benny asked, letting go of your arm to place his hands on your shoulders.

You shrugged. “Seemed like a nice night for a walk?”

Benny gave you a sharp look, not buying your words. “Really, what's goin' on (Y/N)?”

“I told ya” you replied stepping out of Benny's grasp.

“I don't buy it. Tell me what's wrong”.

You sighed, “nothin' alright. I am fine, perfectly peachy”.

He groaned. “There’s that damned word again”.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “What, peachy?” – Benny nodded – “it's a perfectly acceptable word".

He chuckled. “Yeah, you like to use it when you're upset. So what is it this time? Is it the woman at the bar?”

You stood there silent for a moment, processing your response. But from the lack of reply, Benny got his answer.

“No, not at all. You're free to spend your free time with whom ever ya like” was what you went with. Not a very strong reply, but its all you got.

Benny laughed loudly. “Jealously sure is a cute colour on you".

Your shot him a dark look, moving your hands to rest on your hips. “I am not jealous Benjamin Cross! Far from it!”

With that you turned on your heel and started to storm off, leaving Benny to laugh some more. But upon realising you were seriously annoyed, he took off after you. He tried to get to you to stop, even offered to give you a ride home. Which you refused.

“Come on, it's quicker and safer if I get ya home” Benny stated, following closely.

“I'm fine. I'd say its more worrisome to be with a Vandal” you retorted.

That hurt Benny. And it was a low blow, you know. But he irked you. So, your words were justified.

“Come on, please let me take ya home” Benny sighed, before he got a bad idea. “The quicker I get ya home safely, the quicker I can get back to the bar and that woman".

That was it. You stopped, before turning around in a flash. Anger and hurt shone in your eyes.

“If its that so important go back now! I said I am fine!” You said with a raised voice. “She seemed to like ya too, from how she was practically in ya arms or in ya lap! Don't mind me, I'm just stupid to think I stood a damn chance. But, like usual, I am-”

You didn’t get to finish your rant. For Benny – amused by your dummy spit – grabbed your arm and pulled you in, his lips silencing you with a kiss. He moved his free hand to cup your cheek, thumb caressing the soft skin. You were in shock. Benny was kissing you. He kissed you to stop you from talking.

He pulled back, looking down at you from under his eyelashes. “Ya good?”

You opened your mouth, then shut it. How does one speak after that? But your eyes told him that you were trying to wrap your head around what just happened. He saw shock, confusion and a small flicker of hope.

“What-why?” You sputtered out.

Benny chuckled, moving his hand so he could caress your jaw with his thumb. “Ain't it obvious? I kissed ya".

“W-why?!” You choked out.

Benny found this version of you amusing and adorable. “Because I wanted too, I’ve wanted to for weeks now. But I've been afraid too".

You looked into Benny's eyes, trying to work out why he would be afraid. So you asked that question. Waiting with baited breath for his answer.

“I was worried ya didn't like me, like I like ya, doll” he said softly. “But seein’ your reaction to Angela" – so that's the raven vixens name, you thought – “I got my answer; ya do".

You titled your head, giving him a sharp look. “Yeah, well...you could be wrong".

Benny chuckled, running his thumb down your lips. Letting it linger, pulling down your bottom lip. “Oh, I know I'm right. And if I was to kiss ya again, I know for a fact, you’ll kiss me back, doll".

“Ha. Try me” you retorted, a challenge.

With a small smirk, Benny moved in and captured your lips once. This kiss was harder. His hand holding your chin, as his tongue swept along your bottom lip. Without a thought, you opened your mouth, giving him victory. Benny's tongue entered, finding your tongue and caressed it with his own. He didn't waste time deepening this kiss, both of you had wanting this for so long.

Eventually Benny pulled back, you chasing his lips. He laughed at how kiss drunk you were. The way you opened your eyes and looked up at him, had him wanting to groan from how good that looked on you. He continued to caress your jaw with him thumb, as he rested his head against your forehead.

“I was right” he sighed. “Firstly, jealously does look good on you” – you softly scoffed – “And secondly, I was right ya would kiss me back”.

“Yeah, yeah...” you mumbled.

Benny pulled back with a chuckle. “Come on, let's get out of here".

With that you let Benny pull you to his bike. Once he was on and the bike was running, Benny helped you on to sit behind him. Settled in and your arms around his waist, be pulled away from the curb. No intention to take you home yet. For now, he wanted to spend time with his girl. Time he didn't get earlier.

[iridescentprose]

corky head cannons [the bikeriders]

summary; random corky head cannons.

warnings; just fluff

author's note: enjoy!

🏍Trial by error.🏍

One day at the bar, Corky had the guts to ask you if you wanted a smoke. When you told him you didn't smoke, he offered you a drink instead. When you told him you had somewhere to be, he asked if he could get you anything at all.

"How 'bout you gimme ten feet, Corky?" You're shuffling backwards and crossing your arms, looking for your friend or the nearest exit—whichever came first. The last thing you wanted was for him to think he was winning you over.

"How about one?" He takes a big step towards you and his face is, more accurately, inches from yours. Before he has a chance to kiss you, he pulls back and lightly tilts your chin upwards before strutting over to his buddies, who are all laughing in the corner. He's fully convinced that this move alone—his attempt at almost kissing you— finally has you flustered. But little did he know, you had had a crush on him since the first day you've met.

🏍Going down the highway.🏍

Being with Corky felt like going down a highway at full speed without a care in a world. You both were always laughing; living in your own little world while everyone seemed to be passing by. There wasn't a moment that went by where your boyfriend wasn't close to you in some way. He wasn't afraid to pull you to his side or even you have you sit in his lap when everyone was enjoying each other's company. You both are always in the corner of the room snickering at everyone else or something the other said.

🏍He thinks you're pretty.🏍

Corky calls you an assortment of pet names that are not limited to some variation of doll, doll face, pretty, baby, sugar. You told him you weren't a fan of pet names, so he stuck with 'doll face' just to tease you. Your harmless glare only made him laugh.

He was often joking around with you—sometimes too much for his own good. When he knows he's truly gotten under your skin, he'll surrender and wrap his arms around you from behind, apologizing like there's no tomorrow for teasing you so much. He knows he hasn't earned your forgiveness until you struggle to keep a straight face. It is this expression that gives him the greenlight to steal a kiss from your cheek.

[tickettride]

Danger zone || B.C.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

pairing is benny cross x reader

in which your job at the bikeriders bar turns out to be riskier than expected, and one gunshot is all Johnny needs to send you away. Benny takes you to the motel to protect you. but is it really safe when you don't even know him?

word count: 3,3k

warnings: multiple mentions of death, murder and violence, forced proximity, panic attack and angst, reader is freaking out, some comfort because I’m not evil

Around midnight, you drained the last swallow of your beer and wiped the droplets dribbling down your chin with your thumb. 

Drinking was one of the advantages of working there. You could have a glass or two and none of the men would even bat an eye or notice. They were too engrossed in their own activities, whether it was playing pool or smoking at a table. It also included listening in on conversations the men wouldn’t normally have in front of strangers. If the threats and secrets had creeped you out on the first days, you didn’t worry so much now. 

The place reeked of cheap cigarettes and the gruff laughs of the regulars filtered the warm air. It wasn’t the cleanest nor the calmest place, but you found it safe most of the time. Mostly thanks to all those men, determined to proclaim the place as their own. 

Weeks ago, on a stormy day similar to this one, you had run to the bar and pounded relentlessly on the door. After a few seconds, a head had popped out, dark eyes narrowed down at you. Those irises had made you step back, unsure for a second. 

“What do you want, kid?” the rough voice had asked you, visibly in a hurry.

You couldn’t remember the exact words you had told Johnny then. Something along the lines of ‘Please, I need a job, I’ll do anything you want’. And it had worked–only on the second day of begging. Probably annoyed by your insistence, the boss of the club had opened the door under a few conditions. 

What happened in the bar stayed in the bar. No questions, no knocking around with the guys. Johnny had suggested you could sweep the floor at first, visibly unsure of what he was getting himself into. And here you were, a few weeks after, cleaning the place from the tiny office to the pool cues and doing most of the bartending when the place was crowded. Your role was still ambiguous, but the men knew better than to talk to you about personal urges or demands. Johnny would kill them, you had no doubt. And you just needed the money to help your mother out. 

In fact, despite the forced compliments and the invitations to have a drink somewhere calmer, you had found some sort of serenity there.

Wahoo and Corky had forced some kind of friendship with you and now shared the most gruesome details of their adventures. Cal always asked you how you were. Benny was… Benny.

Johnny had swiftly introduced you to everyone one night, and Benny had practically been the only one to ignore you. Since then, you didn’t pay much attention to him. 

You weren’t here to make friends anyway.

“You should go home now,” Johnny’s voice echoed in your ear, startling you. “It’s gettin’ late.”

Setting the beer down, you turned around to glance across the bar. Nothing seemed off. Corky waved an eyebrow at you from his table, beckoning you to come and join their game. The others were playing pool as usual, a hanging bulb above their heads. Barely enough to light Benny standing in the corner, cue in hand. 

You met his eyes for a second and faced Johnny again, scratching your neck nervously. 

“Look, if it’s because I’ve drunk a beer or two tonight…”

“Three,” Johnny cut you off, looking as nervous as you. “I don’t give a fuck. You remember the kids from yesterday? Hmm?”

How could you forget? They had walked in like they owned the place and insisted that the guys go outside to have a look at their damn motorbikes. After a few seconds of standing behind the bar, terrified that they were coming for you, you had heard their bones cracking and swiftly pretended to be wiping the dirty counter. The beer stains were engraved into the wood, no matter how hard you rubbed the surface. You supposed it would be the same for you; some issues would always remain, no matter the cover. 

“Yeah,” the word coming out of your mouth sounded weak, so you repeated it a bit louder. 

Johnny nodded at you almost fatherly, a toothpick hanging from his lips.

“I think they’ll come back tonight,” he told you. “Cause a bit of trouble.”

Crossing your arms across your chest, you shifted on your feet and hoped you looked at least a bit tough while feigning insouciance. “Well, I’ve seen it before, y’know. It's not the first time y'all fight like beasts."

“I want you to go home,” Johnny nodded at you like you were a moron, staring down at you until your shoulders slumped. “Don't know what they’re capable of.”

Shit, you thought.

“I really need the money, though,” you added, hoping to draw some empathy from him. 

“And I really don’t need an innocent girl on my floor.”

You could almost picture yourself lying there, in the silence that followed the panic and the screams. Would it be so terrible to be freed from this life?

Sighing, you tried to find the right words to convince him you were fine. You had seen plenty of broken nose by then. You were almost immunized. 

“I’m just saying–”

That’s when the first gunshot echoed. Fear gripped your heart in a tight fist, and you saw that image of you again. Your dreams vanished, as though they had never existed in the first place.

Actually, you could wait a bit before dying. 

Johnny yelled at you to move, the shock leaving your fingertips buzzing. Another gunshot crossed the room and a framed picture burst out in pieces just above your head. Yet, your scream was stuck behind the panic blockading your throat.

Falling to your knees, you ignored the pain shooting up your thighs and hid your ears, unable to make a decision now that Johnny had gone. Were you supposed to run away and get killed like a fucking rabbit? Stay there, hidden, until they found you?

A yelp broke free from your mouth when you suddenly felt an arm around your shoulders. 

Benny’s face had never been so close to yours.

His expression was always so blank, almost emotionless, you had noticed. But then… concern was etched between his eyebrows, anger broiling beneath his muscles. There was something behind those eyes, and you could only wish it wouldn't harm you somehow.

“C’mon. Come with me,” he only said, his hand sliding down your arm to catch your hand.

Time slowed down for a second. But Benny’s touch was grounding you, gazing at your face like you were just a deer in a forest of monsters. So with a quick nod, obediently, you squeezed Benny’s hand and ran with him, holding his hand for dear life. After all, he was holding your life between his hands. You weren’t even sure why you blindly trusted him in the first place. 

Benny slipped into the hallway and you did the same, already panting by the time you reached the back door. 

“I’m getting you outta here,” Benny mumbled while shooting a quick look behind.

When he was sure nobody was following you, he got on his motorbike and told you to hop on behind him. Another gunshot was heard, followed by glass exploding, and it didn’t take you long to follow him. You swallowed the lump in your throat when he started the bike and drove off slowly at first. 

“Hold on,” you heard him say, that deep voice still unfamiliar tp your ears. 

Numb from panic, you tightened your arms around his waist and only realized you had never done something so impulsive and dangerous when he sped along the road. Your bodies swayed and rocked with the swerves of the bike, but Benny wasn’t bothered by the rain. You weren't either, too busy freaking out about what just happened.

Not long after, a U-shaped motel came into view along the highway. You held your breath for what was about to come, now starting to sweat when you didn’t recognize the area. 

“They won’t know we’re here,” Benny explained, as if sensing your worry when he got off his shiny motorbike.

“Who’s ‘they’?”

“The new guys.”

Both his lack of explanation and honesty caused you to nod, unsure of what to say next. Benny scanned you from head to toe, visibly looking for something to say as well. Eventually, he told you to follow him. 

With another look behind, you blew out a shaky breath and followed him up a couple of stairs and in front of a white door, the same as the others on the floor. The inside of the room didn’t look so gleeful either. From the dull curtains to the messy linens on the bed, you almost took it as a sign to run away. 

“Might’ve been better if I’d gone home,” you broke the silence first, shivering.

Benny glanced up at you, taking off his leather jacket. His black teeshirt said something in white. You slightly squinted to read what was written, but couldn’t see anything. 

A strange discomfort curled in your chest. He stood there, more divine than any man you had ever met, and yet he wasn’t even capable of simply talking. What was the point of staying here? Have a staring contest?

The situation you had put yourself into seemed even more dangerous than standing in the middle of gunshots. Your carelessness again. It would get you killed someday. 

The soft patter of rain hitting the windows filled the room, inviting him to look at any potential danger outside. It was ridiculous to stand there, waiting for the storm to pass.

“I’m fine,” you dared to speak, glancing at the small bed. “I was doing fine.”

Your siblings had told you way too many stories about girls being murdered in motels like that. They all came back to your mind at once.

“You’re sleepin’ in your car most days,” Benny’s voice almost startled you. "You're not fine."

You softened at the tone he used, yet cringed at the words. The question had thrown you off. You frowned at him, searching for a credible answer for a minute.

It was hard to lie to him, though. It felt like he could see right through you. 

“How do you know that?” was all you asked, your heart thumping louder.

“I’ve seen you.”

“You’ve followed me, haven’t you?”

“I’ve seen you, is all,” Benny repeated, pulling a lighter from his jeans pocket. 

The flame cast his face in gold tones as he lit a cigarette between his lips. With an expression you were unfamiliar with, he stared at you for a second and blew out a breath of smoke. He settled on the chair by the small table and the room fell into silence again. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about him watching you as you walked up to your car, even though you always tried to find a spot where no one could see you. And why didn’t it feel as creepy as it sounded? 

A shiver ran down your neck when it was your turn to look out the window, finding yourself relieved at the sight of the empty parking lot. At least they didn’t seem to be coming for you. Or for Benny.

“What are we waitin’ for?” you asked, turning around to find Benny already looking at you.

“Johnny will find us. We’re not goin’ out if they’re still ridin’ around,” he replied like it was obvious and easy, tapping his cigarette on the table. “They’re out of their mind, all of ‘em.”

“Why's that?”

A shrug was all you got. 

With a sigh, you paced from the door to the bed until you had to rub your eyes not to fall asleep right there. Your gaze found Benny’s through a haze of smoke, the silence too comfortable for your liking. Almost shyly, you sat on the bed and wrung your hands to prevent them from shaking. The memory of gunshots filled your mind. Were any of the men wounded? Dead? It could have been you. It definitely could have been you.

“Where’s the bathroom?” you asked, so fast you barely recognized your own voice.

Benny stilled and took one last drag of his cigarette, nodding to a door you hadn’t noticed until then. Clearing your throat, you crossed the room, mumbled something about the beers you’ve had, and bypassed his shadow.

The bathroom was ridiculously small, the bath filthy. Deep down, you hoped he wasn’t living here. You almost hoped he had a wife and a warm place to come home to at night. Not an unsafe and lonely place like this. Though you supposed he was lonely.

After all, you still knew nothing of him. 

Speeding through the room, you checked behind the bath curtain and made sure the door was locked. And you stood in front of the mirror, flinching at the wind blowing into the tiny window, your painful heartbeats and the ceiling creaking. You had been serving beer just an hour ago, and you weren’t even sure where you stood now. Unbelievable. And Benny was there too, making sure you weren’t being killed by some men you hadn’t truly seen the faces of. 

Shakily, you unzipped your pants and eased the pressure in your bladder. You couldn’t stop thinking about the bar. 

Two or three cars idled in the street behind the motel, every nerve of yours anticipating gunshots to cut through the air. What were you doing here? You were going to die, and who would even know about it? Your father had met his end that way, killed like a dog. 

The distant whoops of police sirens outside were drowned out by the overwhelming fear settling in your veins. You usually handled it well. The fights and acts of revenge were regular, not to say daily, since you started working there. So then, you weren’t sure why your body started shaking uncontrollably, little hiccups rattling your chest as you desperately tried to stay quiet. Maybe it was just the beers. 

“You’re okay in there?”

You cursed at the muffled voice. Benny would kick you out for acting so fucking childish.  

He shouted your name again, those quick knocks happening again. All you could do was take tiny steps toward the door, keeping a hand over the handle when you had it unlocked. You didn’t want him to see how petrified you were, but were there other solutions?

You both stared at each other in silence. While your eyes remained on his face, tracing every line and small scar, his narrowed ones traveled down to your arms and back to your face. 

“I won’t hurt you if that’s what you’re scared of. I’m not like that.”

He had never been so soft, so sweet. Benny had never appeared as a shy guy either, and yet his hesitancy rolled off him like waves, drowning you in doubt. 

“What are we really doin’ here?” you asked, holding his gaze to know the truth. 

“Told you. We’re waitin’ for Johnny to get us.”

You paused for a moment, hating the way your voice cracked. “What if they find us before?”

“They won’t. I won't let them hurt you,” Benny frowned slightly. “You’re one of us now.”

Swallowing over the thick tears coating your throat, you gave a shaky nod. “Thank you.”

Benny seemed to think for a moment. “You should rest. The bed’s yours.”

“You look worse than me.”

“The chair’s fine.”

And he was gone again. Embarrassed by your sudden breakdown, you followed him out. The room seemed even darker now. At least you would be able to hide your face. 

You inhaled deeply as you took off your shoes by the bed, glancing through the window. A man was waiting by his motorbike, looking down at his hands. You instantly recognized Bruce, causing your shoulders to relax. 

Dragging yourself to bed, you crumpled under the weight of that night and let a silent torrent flow over your face. Tears of exhaustion and fear, mostly. As much as you wanted to, you didn’t even pull the covers over yourself in case you needed to run away. You kept your eyes on the ceiling and shut them close, clutching a fistful of the blanket. The gunshots wouldn’t cease.

Right then, your name was called again. It still felt so weird that Benny was addressing you, as though he hadn’t been purposefully brushing your existence off for the past few weeks. He could see you, you reminded yourself, and the thought was brutal. So shameful, really. 

“It’s just the beers,” you heard yourself say, distant from your own ears. “I’ve drunk too much.”

“Hey,” Benny whispered, now kneeling beside the bed. 

How he had got here so fast, you had no idea. His pale complexion and sweaty forehead glistened under the moonlight pouring through the window. 

“Look at me,” he said, peeling strings of hair away from your face. “You’re safe.”

You weren’t. Those guys would find you and hunt you down like they had your father. 

“I can’t die here,” you choked out, finding it so hard to breathe and have dignity at the same time.

What would he think of you? A fool who was scared of two silly gunshots.

“You won’t,” Benny said earnestly, his deadpan tone indicating he wasn’t up for debate. “Look at me, we’re safe here.”

“I don’t want them to shoot me. Oh, God.”

Through the haze of tears, you saw Benny sitting beside you on that tiny bed. It took you longer to realize he had your head against his chest, holding it while his other hand traced soft circles against your wrist. You wished he could have said something, anything to calm you down, but it dawned on you that his mere presence was enough. His warm hold was a blessing. He wasn’t about to drown you in compliments and soothing words, and perhaps it was better that way. 

Meanwhile, you sucked in a calming breath, focusing on your hand on the flat of his covered stomach. 

Benny rested his chin in your hair, his breath ruffling the strands and sending chills down your spine. You could have stayed like that for days; nothing had ever felt so right. It didn't even matter that he was closer to a stranger than a friend. He had seen you, and he was probably the only one.

And whatever he was, you wanted to trust him. Have someone to talk to and get it off your chest so the nights wouldn't feel so lonely anymore.

“My old man owed money to some guys. Can’t remember who exactly. They shot him down on our doorstep.”

Your words were painful and low, but you figured telling the truth was as depressing as it would have been to lie. 

“I need to work, Benny. I need to help my mom figure it out on her own. But they–they saw me standin' there in the kitchen, and I’m so afraid they’ll come and find me next. I told her I’m working overnight too, but the truth is… I can’t sleep at home anymore. I can’t."

You thought he hadn’t heard you with the way he kept on stroking your hand. The lack of response made you uneasy, already regretting your words until he replied.

“I’ll find them first,” Benny said, the rasp in his voice heating your body alone. “Won’t let anyone hurt you, you hear me?”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Do you want me to?”

You paused for a long time, eyebrows narrowing as you thought about it. Another tear rolled down your cheek.

“Does it mean we’d be friends?”

“We’d be anything you want,” Benny replied with no hesitation.

You swore he kissed the top of your head. Or at least grazed his lips there, afraid to see you crumble again.

“I thought you couldn't stand me,” you mumbled, wiping off your cheek with your free hand. 

“Didn’t want to stain you, is all,” Benny mumbled back.

You weren’t sure what he meant by that, couldn’t really imagine how fucked up he was, so you just nodded. You doubted he could be worse than you were, but you just needed the warmth and affection for a night. You figured he might need it too. 

You had thought it was the beers, but perhaps it was just him that made you so dizzy.

[hottpinkpenguin]

Letting Someone Go - Part 1

Benny Cross X Reader A/n: saw Bikeriders yesterday, needless to say I have a new Austin Butler character to obsess over <3 no better soundtrack to Benny Cross breakin' hearts than Zach Bryan. *the poem in this is lyrics from his song 'Letting Someone Go' Word Count: 2253 Warnings: cursing, alcohol use, Benny breaking hearts, angst, unhappy ending

What you had done to deserve Benny was beyond you. After all, you’d always tried to be a good person. Tried to do the right thing, to treat other people well. So who had you wronged so mightily as to deserve the torture that was Benny Cross?

“Hey. Hey! I’m talkin’ here!”

Sheila snapped at you, wrenching you out of your own miserable head. You dragged your gaze off of Benny, playing pool in the corner, and back to your friend. 

“Sorry, Sheils,” you mumbled. She rolled her eyes at you as you took a deep gulp from your Budweiser. 

“You’re still draggin’ ass about that man, aren’t ya?” She nodded unabashedly towards Benny, raising an eyebrow at you in question. You wanted to sink into the dirty floorboards beneath you, just get swept away in the sewer pipes or water table or whatever the fuck was below this personal hell you’d found yourself in. 

You shrugged, gulping down more beer in the hopes that it might dull the ache in your chest. 

“He ain’t worth it, hunnie.” 

You fixed Sheila with a hard stare. She shook off your glare, lighting her cigarette and blowing a plume of smoke up into the rafters. 

“I’m just sayin’, there’s plenty of guys ‘round here for you to shack up with. Benny’s just a loose cannon is all, who cares if he’s off ya.” 

You drank until your beer was empty. Your head was beginning to swim, but unfortunately the booze wasn’t touching the sadness that had sent you to the bottle in the first place. You stood up from your chair, pushing back from the table with a loud and clumsy clatter. No one really noticed over the thumping bass of the jukebox or the din of the crowd. You walked over to the bar, trading in your two empty bottles for two fresh ones. Zipco eyed you curiously from his usual seat at the back corner of the bar, but you refused to acknowledge him. Last thing you needed was another friend trying to cajole you out of your heartbreak. 

By the time you came back to Sheila, Wahoo and Corky had plunked down on either side of her. Probably trying to get her into bed, you thought darkly. And they’d likely succeed, based on how she was batting her eyes up at them. Usually, you welcomed the company of the Vandals, but tonight you found you could hardly stand them. Not necessarily that you wanted to be alone, just left alone. Sitting by yourself and knocking back an obscene amount of beer as you stared daggers into the back of Benny’s head was all you were really game for tonight. 

Rather than join the others, you swerved and walked towards the back of the bar, past where Johnny was sitting with Brucie, Gail, and Cal. The light was broken back here, and the shadows suited your dark mood quite nicely. You settled into a chair, tucking your legs up underneath you as you cracked open one of the new bottles and gulped down another greedy mouthful. Finally by yourself for the moment, you let your mind run wild over the last few weeks.

Where had it gone wrong? What did she have that you didn’t? And why the hell did you care so much, while Benny clearly cared so little? 

After all, it’s not like you and Benny were anything. You’d been sleeping together for a couple months, sure; but that was just the lifestyle. You’d been raised up on the back of your daddy’s bike. He was a founding member of the Red Devils of Hamilton, Ontario; so that made you practically royalty in the MC world. You knew what it was to be a Vandal before they’d even existed as an idea in Johnny Davis’ head. Hell, you practically taught Johnny everything you knew about how to run a successful club. 

That was probably why Benny hurt so damn much, you realized. You’d never admit it out loud, but this whole thing was ass backwards. You were the one that was supposed to run around and break the biker boys’ hearts. You were the one that wasn’t supposed to get attached, the one who would cut bait and run at the first sign of feelings. You were definitely not the kind of girl who’d get hung up on some loser just because he rode a nice chopper. 

But instead, Benny Cross had gone and played you at your own game. When you’d come back to Chicago to check on Johnny Davis’ pet project, you hadn’t planned to stay more than a few days, maybe a week. You had your sights set on California, on a small rancher high up in the mountains outside Crescent City. 

But then you’d met Benny. Benny with those piercing blue eyes, that gentle pillow talky voice, and the most gorgeous set of lips you’d ever kissed. He’d had you panting after him like a puppy dog within three days. A few days had turned into a few weeks, which had stretched into a few months. Now, you were still here, looking to spend your second Christmas in the cold. And unlike the last one, this Christmas would be a lonely one.

You’d been tangled up in Benny for the better part of a year now. He still drove you just as wild as that first time you’d seen him. Even from this far away, you could hardly stand to look at him without squirming. 

The first eight or nine months had been good. Maybe not great, but damn good. You’d wanted it to be fucking terrific, Lord knows you wanted that more than anything. But something in Benny just wouldn’t thaw for you. He was exactly the type of man that every other hard biker tried to be. He didn’t care about much, except his club. Didn’t show feelings for the simple fact that he didn’t have many, at least not the deep kind that you were desperate for. He was a detached, unbothered person. At first, you’d mistaken that for easy-going. It certainly made getting to know him nice and easy. But after nine or ten months, the edges of your relationship had started to turn brittle. While you were lying awake at night, daydreaming about getting a house together and getting married and maybe a baby or two, Benny was out doing the same old shit. Drinking, fighting. Generally avoiding anything that required commitment or persistence. Just livin’ life in the breeze.

But things had really taken a turn when she showed up. You could remember the night so clearly. It had been late fall, maybe two months ago. She’d come in looking like a misfit, all prim and proper in her white jeans and pink sweater, with her hair done up like Jackie Kennedy and her perfect eyeliner. Way too shiny and sweet for this kind of crowd. The guys had, predictably, gobbled her up with their eyes. No one more so than Benny.

The moment was seared in your memory: she was looking at the door, Benny was looking at her, and you were looking at Benny. Next thing you knew, Benny was gone, racing after her into the November air. You’d watched from the foggy window as she’d climbed on the back of his bike and they’d rode off down the street, all the while the club was cheering like it was fucking homecoming or something. Never mind that you were literally gutted, your heart trampled and lying like a used up bag on the floor of the bar. 

Benny had come back the next night, all hang-dog and apologies. All “I’m sorry baby, that was wrong” and “I dunno what came over me” and “I promise, it was nothing”. Both of you knew those were all lies, but only one of you really wanted to believe them. You were clinging on tight to the fading dream that was Benjamin Cross, meanwhile he was racing headfirst into the future that was Kathy Bauer. 

She kept coming around after that. That’s how you really knew that you were going to lose him. If that pretty little minx had kept her distance, then maybe Benny would have really been able to close that door. But she couldn’t. And, as much as you hated her for it, you couldn’t blame her. She wasn’t blind. She saw the same things in Benny that you did, you could tell just from looking at her expression when he was around. She had stars in her eyes, same as you. 

At first, Benny had put on a pretty good show of sticking by you. Even though the two of you weren’t officially anything, there was a code in the club. Fellas stuck by their gals, and vice versa. And, just by virtue of how long you and Benny had been, well, how long you’d been you and Benny, you were owed some measure of loyalty. 

But after a week or two, Benny was straying. Kathy would come into the bar and Benny would get this tiny smile. He’d find excuses to sit near her. Then it turned into talking to her. Then it turned into talking with her alone. 

Then he’d finally said the words you’d been dreading. 

“Baby, we gotta talk.”

No no no no no, you were screaming inside as you calmly sat down at the kitchen table of the small apartment you'd set yourself up in. Your hands were shaking, so you’d played with the nearest coffee mug until you’d chipped your nails. 

“Listen, darlin’, I… well, I’m not too good at this sorta thing.”

One tear had slipped out. You’d practically smacked yourself in a hurry to get rid of it. You couldn’t stand how upset he had you. 

“Just say it, Benny.”

Benny had tried to grab your hands from across the table - for what purpose, you couldn’t imagine. But you’d pulled away from him, your eyes burning. 

“I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to find someone else, baby. I swear. I just… it just… happened.”

Too many tears to wipe away now. You were squeezing the coffee mug so tightly in your palms that it was a wonder it didn’t shatter.

“It’s Kathy, isn’t it?”

Benny hadn’t said anything, just nodded. 

“And you’re moving in with her, aren’t ya?” 

To add insult to injury, before Benny even had the guts to properly break things off with you, he’d adopted a bad habit of sleeping on the back of his bike in front of her house. At least, that was what Cal told you. After you’d practically threatened to cut his throat with your blade. Not that you were much of a threat, but Cal had a soft spot for you and you knew it. You weren’t afraid to press on the soft spots when needed. 

Another single nod from Benny. You couldn’t tell if he was looking at you or not.

“So… you’re done with me then, yea? Is that what you’re saying?”

Another. Fucking. Nod.

And so, that was the end of it. A fitting ending, all things considered. Benny, quiet as the grave, just nodding away the entire future you’d dreamt up for yourself at his side. 

Unable to figure out what to say or how to feel, you just shrugged and let the tears slip off your jaw and plunk down onto the plastic checkerboard tablecloth. 

“Aight then, Benny, you best get your stuff and get out, then.”

You wished you’d have added some harsher words at the end, leave a little sting on him, but you didn’t trust your voice not to crack. So it had been your turn to stay quiet while Benny packed up his things - a shockingly small amount, you realized, as it took him less than three minutes to shove them all into a pillowcase. 

The final dagger had been when he’d hesitated at the door, looking back over his shoulder at you. You were exactly where he’d left you: sitting at the kitchen table, crying, that coffee mug turning over and over in your shaking palms. He’d turned back and walked over to lay a soft, sweet kiss on your forehead. The most affection that man had ever shown you had been in the goodbye that he’d made you say for him. It was an irony that you didn’t think you’d ever get over. 

As you sat in that dark, lightless corner of the bar, watching Benny shoot pool with Big Jack and Cockroach, Kathy leaning against a high-top table a few feet away and beaming at him, you thought about some ridiculous poem you’d heard once. If someone had put a pistol to your head, you wouldn’t have been able to tell them where you heard it or who wrote it or even what the rest of the poem was about. Just one line came floating back to you out of the back of your mind:

One thing I’ve come to know, nothing kills you slower than letting someone go.

**Read part 2 here! **Let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

[katiscrying]

Sweet as a peach ୨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋆˙

Benny Cross x f!Reader

18+ MDI

cw: PWP (?), f!reviving oral, smoking, fingering, cum eating, not proofread

You hadn’t even thought of showing yourself up in a biker bar until Kathy insisted on you coming with her. Never once did you assume you’d be getting fucked by a random biker boy let alone falling in love with him.

╭──────────.♡..─╮

𝑰’𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒍

╰─..♡.──────────╯

•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*

The night started settle over the sky and the neon lit sign of the bar that the Vandals claimed lit barely anything but under where it hung and your caught eye. Kathy looks over at you as she pulls into the parking lot, noticing your leg bouncing. She let out a scoff of laughter as she looked over at you. “Nervous?” You nodded before quietly speaking; “a lil’ bit.”

“What for? It’s just like any other bar, ya’ overthinking it.” You knew she was right, you’re overthinking what could go down in such a place, nothing good in your mind. You both got out and she handed you a cigarette and you just tucked it in the pocket of your jeans while she lit hers after offering to light it. You both walked in but you trailed behind, taking in the sudden sight of all different builds of men who were either shitface drunk or getting close to the goal.

Kathy lead you back over to where Johnny usually sat with Brucie and where she did as well with another friend as they usually drank or smoked through conversations about anything. After feeling countless hands smacking your ass, you finally sit next to Kathy and once more, continue to take in the surrounding. Quite a few were staring at you but your eyes wandered off to the pool table where it was like an erotic movie scene; the tan and toned arms of an unknown man supported his body as he lifted his head up.

You couldn’t help but just stare, it was almost natural in the way you did so. Your eyes traveling his arms, taking in the sight of his tattoos and then up to his face where you could practically feel the heat rising to your face and southbound of your body.

You lean closer to Kathy and with your eyes still fixated on him as you nudge her. “who’s that guy over at the pool table?” She almost couldn’t hear you over the noise surrounding all around but she caught what you were asking. “Him? Tha’s Benny. P’robly the youngest since Danny.” You nod, but Kathy could see the unsure expression on your features.

“Here,,” She starts, propping her elbow up on the table and point over at a black haired guy guy with sideburns and three guys next to him. “That’s Cockroach, left is Cal, and right is Corky.” Your brows contort as she says this but she turns to her left pointing once more. “That’s Johnny, he’s the leader and next to im’ is Brucie.”

“..okay” you nod slowly, just taking it all of the rapid fire names in. Kathy turns her attention back to her previous conversation with her other friend. You knew you could smoke in the bar but, you always had the habit of walking out to. So you did. You went under a dimly lit orange light on the side of the bar’s wall. You picked the cigarette out of your jeans, praying it wasn’t snapped in half.

“Son of a bitch-“ you cursed yourself as you pulled the snapped filter from your pocket, huffing as you dig around for the other half. The door to the bar opens and closes swiftly but you assumed it was some drunk fucker on his way to potentially kill himself on the road. Oh how wrong you were.

“Ya’ need a cigarette, Peach?” a low yet gravelly voice spoke, causing you to jump. You look up from the two halves of once one whole cigarette to see his face. “You— you?” You question, noticing the cigarette tucked between his vermillion lips. He nods, taking the cigarette between his long pointer and middle finger. “Is that yes?” His rough voice spoke again. But you couldn’t react. Not a head shake or sound escaping you.

He takes a step closer to you, now invading any personal space you had. His other hand taking your chin, tilting it up to meet his gaze as his thumb pulled at your chin; pulling your bottom lip down. You still couldn’t react. You were starstruck by this man and his astonishing looks. He took the cigarette and tucked it between your lips, gently letting your chin go.

“There.” He says with a sense of pride that you didn’t fight him. You pulled the cigarette from your lips to flick the ashes. “Thank you—?” You say back, returning the politeness.. if that’s how he showed it. “Here alone?” He asked. The sudden question almost made you cough on smoke but you silently composed yourself. “Nah,, I’m here with a friend.”

“Kathy?” He questioned as you nodded, exhaling the smoke, handing it back to him. He followed with the same manner as he inhaled and exhaled two times before offering it back but you declined. “Y’know her?” you gave him a look, was Kathy setting you up with this guy? No way. “Barely.” He stubs the cigarette out on the wall, letting the bud drop onto the gravels.

You had never had a conversation so awkward with another guy but here you were, nodding in silence, basically showing your submission to him even if you had just met him.

“Yer a quiet thing ain’t ya’ peach?” He observed your behavior very closely but it oddly wasn’t making you uncomfortable. Might as well not lie so you just squeak out a “yeah” with a softer tone. “You’ll be broken out of it after we’re married.” Wait. What? Marriage?

“Marriage..? I’m sorry, I don’t know you at all..?” You could feel that you weren’t recovering quickly from that whiplash. “Ain’t got to. We got time after.” God. He’s persistent. “I don’t even know your name! Why the hell would I wanna marry you!?” You protest. “Benny cross. You?”

… “y/n. And I’m not marrying you Benny.” You firmly said but you could clearly see it in his eyes how he wasn’t budging. “Mhm. I’m sure you’re not, Peach.” You give him a look, one he found adorable while in your mind it was intimidating.

It went quiet. But the look on his face was still, he clearly want backing down from his claim of marriage over you but he’ll play into the whole “no I won’t” response.

“I can change yer mind, peach.” He was persistent but that only made you curious in what he’d do to “convince” you otherwise. “I don’t believe you can Benny.” You are also persistent and you weren’t letting up so easily.

You’re quickly caught off guard by benny taking your soft hand in his and guiding you to his bike. He looks at you and without saying anything, the gaze from his eyes spoke up You wanna come with me? And you just nod on response as if he actually asked. Just like that, he slings his leg over and kicks the stand down before kickstarting the bike, beckoning his finger. Like gravity never existed you found yourself floating towards him and hesitating to sit but that inner curiosity of him “convincing you” took over, basically screaming at you to get on. And so you did.

It’s new to you but it’s like a second nature that your arms snaked his waist and held tightly onto him. As you felt the rumble of the engine between your thighs it only made you grip him tighter.

You are nervous, you’ve never been on a bike before as you’d explained to him but with his eyes giving gentle commands, you just couldn’t say no. You hadn’t even thought of leaving without a word to anyone or any eyes witnessing but that doesn’t matter at this point. You’re far too curious and far too willing to follow him like an obedient puppy.

As he pulls away from the bar and onto the road that lead to the expressway you can feel the wind comb through your hair despite the criminal amount of hairspray you used to keep it down. You’re trying everything to not rest your head on his back, that’d prove him right, that he’d get his way. But he’s so warm. A contrast from the cool night wind.

He’s like a magnet just making you gravitate closer and closer to him before your chin rests comfortably on his back as your arms remain around him. Every turn he makes he notices how you hold him tighter like he’d let you fall but in reality he’d never do anything like that. Not to you.

It was one last turn until you finally looked up and he had brought you to what seems like the middle of absolutely no where. The engine slowly dies down and then eventually off as he puts his feet to the ground to stop any movement entirely. “Ya’lright back there?” He says as he stabilizes the bike. You take a moment to observe your surroundings to realize it was far from the small town and looks like no one would be out here for miles.

“Yeah, I’m fine” you say as your arms unwrap from his waist. He slowly stands up from the seat and then slides his leg off from the other side to kick down the kickstand as his rougher hand met your much softer hand to help you off. You’re quick to steady your balance with a “thank you” out of impulse and just general habit.

Your eyes wander around the secluded area and you admittedly do feel weary but he doesn’t seem like he’d hurt you. “Where are we..?” Your eyes lock onto his but he doesn’t say anything, but instead he steps closer to you, invading any personal space you had previously as two fingers of his come up to lift your chin. “I told ya’, peach. I’ll convince you.” His words send shivers down your spine; the thought of what he’d do to you is almost exciting with the lingering thought of the dangers that could be potential.

“do y’trust me, peach?” you just met him.. how the hell is he asking this so soon..? But you nod in agreement. “I— I trust you” your voice is damn near weak but you’re genuine. Your arms wrap carefully around his neck as his plump lips meet yours, pulling you into a sudden, deep, passionate kiss. Your mouth opening up to him as his tongue doesn’t hesitate to slide in and map out every bit of your mouth.

You can’t help the little breathless and choked out whimpers and whines that escape you. This only causes him to wanna continue, to go further with you. And that’s what he’ll do.

You break the kiss to catch your breath but you see the look in his eye that clearly shows no signs of being done with you. Not now. His arms carefully warp around your waist and carefully guide you onto your back directly on the leather seat of his bike, sliding himself on the seat as well to steady the bike. Your eyes lock onto his icy blue ones, your lips parted yet no words are formed.

His calloused hands trail down to the waistline of your jeans, his ringed fingers hooking onto them. “Can I take em’ off?” his gaze is still locked onto yours, his eyes clearly hungry for more of you. “Mhm” you hum, but that’s not good enough for him. He needs you to say it. His hand gently grabs your chin, bringing you closer to his face “ah ah, I need an answer, peach. Can I take em’ off?” He repeats;

“Yes, yes, you can.” You give him a real response this time, your voice dripping with need and underlying desperation for him. “atta girl,” he praises you as he unbuttons your jeans, the zipper coming down with no effort to it at all. He skillfully tugs your jeans off of your frame, slowly sliding them down, drinking in every inch of your pale, smooth skin.

The cool breeze hitting your lower half causes little goosebumps to form all across your thighs, shivers running down your spine and blood flowing to your face from the embarrassment of being pretty much half nude in front of a man you hardly know. All thoughts in your head calm as his warm palms run over your thighs, carefully approaching your inner thighs with much caution. He can see you’re all embarrassed over him, and he is reveling in it.

His touch is warm and tender and you’re practically melting under him. “Benny-“ you say softly but he quickly cuts you off; “shh - peach. Patience.” His voice was sultry yet tender. His fingers trace your panties, feeling how damp you’re he’s making them. His fingers carefully map out what makes you squirm, what makes you whimper, anything that’ll give him a reaction. His fingers graze over your clit just to keep you on edge.

“Already so needy f’me, hm?” He’s toying with you. You enjoying the way you react as his fingers toying with your clothed slit. His pants growing uncomfortably tight just watching you react to what he’s doing to you. Tonight isn’t the night to fully claim you, though he’s already claimed you as his wife.. though you won’t wouldn’t let him.

He gets you on edge, close to making you cum yet he’s holding out. Listening to how pretty you sound when all he’s doing is barely teasing you, dragging his fingers up and down your slit. You can only sound better. He brings his finger that is covered in your slick up to his mouth and sucks it clean off, all with intense eye contact. His hands then grab your panties and gently tug them down your thighs and around your ankles, then off completely.

Despite the still setting sun casting shadows and darkness around, the slick pooling your cunt is very obvious; as if it already weren’t. He lowered himself down, eye level with your glistening cunt. His calloused hand wraps around your thigh, almost holding you up dangerously close to his face. You manage to prop yourself up to fully gaze down at him and observe what he’s doing to you.

His tongue slowly guides out as he carefully lick up your slit, your sweet slick collects on his tongue doesn’t make it easy for him to be gentle but, nonetheless, he manages. His skillful focus on your clit makes your eyes roll back in pure ecstasy, your moans are desperate and needy even when he’s giving you what you didn’t know you wanted.

A sharp gasp escapes your parted lips as two ringed fingers slide down to penetrate you, carefully pumping in and out of your heated flesh as he continues to swirl his tongue around your sensitive bud. You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach, your orgasm slowly building. “Benny — I —“ you stutter, earning a rumble of laughter against your cunt, sending vibrations through you which only enhanced your pleasure “y’taste so sweet..”.

Through desperate moans and hushed curses fill the now dusk filled sky all around. Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging and pulling at it, as if you’re trying to pull him off but he’s restless. His fingers continue at a now relentless pace, his tongue still lapping at your swollen bud. You know you can cum at any minute and he can tell from your walls clenching around his fingers. Your moans turning into choked cries and squeals.

“Benny m’ gonna cum — !” You cry out, he takes this as a cue to continue but at his relentless pace. “Go ahead, cum f’me, sweet peach” you were already holding back but now that you’ve got the green light you just let it spill.

Your head throws back as you let out what can only be described as relief and hellish ecstasy. He slows the pumping down from his fingers before they come to a grinding halt, letting you ride out the pleasure. After you’ve stopped shaking as much, he carefully removes his cum coated fingers and grabs your chin with the hand that was previously clasped around your thigh, your eyes open as he smirks, guiding his pointer finger in between your lips, making you taste yourself. As your tongue swirls his finger and you suck your own secretion off of his finger. He follows in suit by sucking his middle finger clean, crashing his lips against yours. Forcing you into a heated kiss.

As he pulls away from the kiss, observing your spent and weak body underneath him he asks,

“Did that convince you, peach?”

•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*