#johnny davis x you

[zablife]

Imagine Johnny Defending You

Johnny Davis Masterlist

Warnings: language, injury, mention of blood, domestic violence (not with Johnny), fighting

Read the prequel

It was past midnight when you limped into an unfamiliar bar, torn jacket, split lip and blood dripping from your hairline. The whole room seemed to come to a stand still as bikers and their ladies stopped to stare.

Kathy was the first to approach you, a warm smile radiating toward you as she gently asked, "Did ya take a spill, sweetheart?" She could tell from your trembling body and the sharp look of fear in your eye it was something more than that, but didn't want you to have to say it out loud.

You nodded numbly, wrapping your arms around your body to conceal the Renegades patch that now hung somewhere near your elbow. Brucie's keen eye had already spotted it though and he leaned in to advise Johnny. You were the girl who'd been here six months earlier on the arm of that rebellious kid wanting to join up, he was certain of it.

Dropping his cigarette into an empty beer bottle, Johnny narrowed his eyes at you, scanning your features carefully.

For a moment you worried he was considering throwing you out. However, before he could pass his judgement, Kathy extended a hand to you proclaiming, "We gotta get her cleaned up."

The words still lingered in the air as the roar of several bike engines rattled the windows by the pool table, your body jolting at the sight and sound of your ex boyfriend and half a dozen Renegades approaching like hungry lions.

Your reaction didn't go unnoticed by Johnny who turned to ask, "Friends of yours, darlin'?"

Fingertips tracing your throbbing, bloodied temple, you gritted your teeth as you spat, "Fuck, no."

As Kathy supported your elbow she whispered hoarsely, "That the guy who did it?" and you only nodded as your eyes fell to the floor.

Johnny pursed his lips as he nodded thoughtfully. "Okay, that's all I need to know." He motioned for Corky and Wahoo to follow as his boots thudded toward the exit, readying for a confrontation.

As expected, the kid was the first to meet him by the front door, an incredulous look on his face when he realized he was being denied entry.

"Take one more step toward that door and I'll knock your teeth out," Johnny informed him, Vandals forming a barrier behind him.

"M not here for a social visit, old man. Just here to get my girl," he persisted.

"Your girl?" Johnny asked, eyebrow cocked in challenge.

"You didn't notice the jacket?" the kid scoffed, turning to his friends with a laugh. "Dunno why the dumb bitch would run into a rival's bar," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Spose that's another lesson she's gotta learn the hard way," he said with a shake of his head, striding forward defiantly.

Johnny sprang forward to attack before the Renegades could react, fist connecting with the kid's jaw in quick succession until he heard a sickening crack. The boys behind him scattered in fear as the kid fell onto the pavement with a low groan.

Johnny circled him, rubbing his fist as he loomed overhead. "You know, I think you're the slow learner cause I made myself clear the first time you came around you ain't welcome here," he gritted out. Chest heaving in anger, he looked down at the boy writhing in agony, imagining what it must have been like for the girl inside. Leaning down to grasp at the collar of the denim Renegade's jacket, he hauled him to his feet, gaze scouring the fabric in disgust.

Shoving the kid into the side of the building hard enough to knock the wind out of his lungs, Johnny's voice hovered at a threatening growl as he added, "And just so you know, these jackets don't make you my rival, cause you're just a fucking kid. But beatin' the shit out of a woman does." He tightened his hold until he could feel the kid's limbs twitching, mouth spluttering a bloody trail of saliva down his arm before he shoved him aside.

“Get the fuck outta here. What kind of piece of shit are you?,” he spat, wiping his arm on his shirt. He turned to Zipco and Corky instructing, “Clean him up and get him outta here."

When Johnny walked back inside, he found you pacing the floor nervously.

"He ain't gonna bother you no more," he declared resolutely. "We had a little chat and I uh...explained that to him."

You paused all movement and Johnny squinted at you in uncertainty until you threw your arms around his neck in gratitude. Raising his large hand to your back slowly, he patted between your shoulder blades cautiously until he spied Kathy giving him an encouraging nod.

"No one's ever done anything like that for me before," you cried into his shoulder.

"Well, then you deserve a helluva lot more," he assured you softly, pulling you in close to absorb the little sobs shaking your body. He wrapped you in his arms, placing one hand around your waist and lacing the other in your hair.

Comforted by his steady breathing, you inhaled a few deep breaths as well, observing his unique scent of cologne mixed with cigarette smoke and a hint of motor oil.

As the juke box began to play a slow song, he swayed you gently to the music and you nearly fell asleep on your feet. It was a soothing moment of safety you never wanted to end. Luckily you didn't have to because you went home with Johnny that night and never left.

[ofcourseiwillmydarling]

This is my first time writing smut (or whatever this is) please be nice <\3

Also my requests are open! Dont forget to check my introduction post for more info :)

fooling around a little w Johnny when him and Betty were on the outs:(

“s'too much Johnny!“ you didn't mean to be loud but hes thrusting his tongue so deep that its all you can do :( "you gotta be quiet, baby." he murmured before latching onto your swollen nub again, "m'sorry." you let out another pathetic little whimper as tears cling to your lashes and chest heaves.

your folds are puffy and dripping — over-stimulated. a needy mewl escapes your mouth as he laps the slick coating your pretty, glistening pussy. every pass of his slick fingers over your clit feels painful by now - you're getting sick of it - he's spent half an hour with his heads between your thighs. Johnny knows the guys can hear you – hell, maybe even poor ol' Betty can – he knows, yet he doesnt stop what hes doing. "m'close Johhny." you whimper like it hurts. "yeah?" he coos against your fever - hot cunt. you let out another string of pathetic, repetitive, whimpering, "so close-" you hiccup and sniff, pretty little tears running down your flushed cheeks. Another sweet, high pitched moan leaves your plushy lips and Johnny leans down to cover your mouth. "enough with the squealin', yeah?" It comes out more like a threat than a suggestion, but his touch is gentle, too gentle for a man like him. "atta girl." You tend to forget good ol' Betty is just two tents away. So he covers your mouth — gently, of course — while also vehemently reminding you to keep that pretty mouth shut.

"jus' need to cum," you're a mess. you're physically writhing against his hold, tryin' to push him away with your feet. "please Johnny!" you have soaked the blanket and your cheeks good and proper. he keeps his mouth on you - kitten licks at your folds before latching to your sensitive clit again and pushing you to overstimulation. your legs start to shake and close on his face. thats it. a long - winded moan leaves your lips as you feel the warmth gush down your legs.

Johnny comes up for air, lips glistening of your slick. a groan escapes his lips at the sight of your pretty, pink pussy - all slick and glistening, just for him. "enough with the whinin', yeah?"

[pacifymebby]

Johnny Comforts You After A Bad Dream

Self indulgent hurt/comfort. Complete fluff. Warnings: vague allusions to abuse/violence, reader has a scar. Also Johnny calls himself daddy.

Also this is the fic I drafted perfectly and then lost. This is not as good as that fic (rip) but it is longer, and actually here so... Also I might write more for this, I'm taken with her tragic backstory now.

"Johnny... Johnny!" In the dead of night you were all trembles and tears. Fragile and forlorn, growing more so with every second that went by without your Johnny waking up. "Johnny please wake up..." You whimpered, your heart stuck in your throat as you did your best to hold back the sobs choking you.

It had been another bad dream, you knew that but it didn't help ease the fear, the panic in your heart, the ringing sound in your ears. Nothing was going to stop the ache except your Johnny. But he was a heavy sleeper and by the time you had managed to stir him there were tears streaking your cheeks and you could hardly hold back the sobs.

"Hey honey..." he yawned, his voice gravelly with sleep as he pushed himself up to rest against the headboard.

He didn't need to ask what was wrong, you didn't need to tell him either. The moment he saw your wide eyes brimming with tears, the moment he saw the wrinkle of your nose as another tear rolled down your cheek and over your lips, he knew exactly what was wrong. Exactly what you needed.

He offered you a sympathetic pout, one which wrinkled his forehead and put a little smile on your lips as he opened his arms for you wordlessly and beckoned you to him with a nod.

"C'mere my honey," he cooed, "come to daddy..." his voice was still gruff and gritty but the way he spoke to you was so tender and sweet as he took your hand and lightly tugged you into his embrace. His arm came to wrap around you, his hand stroking through your hair and then down your back as he bundled you up in his lap. "S'okay my sweetheart, daddy's got you..." He hushed you as you nuzzled into him, his scruff tickling your cheek as you endeavoured to nestle in as close to him as you possibly could.

With one hand cradling your head to him, the other holding your waist, he rocked you gently, soothing you. He let a tender kiss linger in your hair as he continued to utter comforting sentiments to you.

"S'alright my honey you're safe, Johnny's here, nothins gonna happen to you baby, don't worry, Johnny won't let anything happen to you." He said, every word sincere. Every word a truth intended to comfort you, not just now but in the morning too and the next time you'd dream the same dream which had left you in tears tonight.

He didn't know much about your life pre, well, meeting him. What he did know however is that it was much darker than the life you led now, with him. You didn't talk about it, ever. Not even when you'd awoken in the middle of the night the way you had tonight. He'd tried to ask you before, what happened in the dream, why you were always so scared - not just scared but fuckin heartbroke - every time you awoke, but you'd always pouted and made one flippant comment to shake his questions off.

"What's wrong, you want me to start crying all over again?"

He knew why you did that too. Knew it was because whatever you didn't want to talk about was real bad, something that would curdle his blood, set of a rage in him he wouldn't want to control. He knew you were trying to keep your heartbroken history quiet because you didn't want him to think any less of you, didn't want him to think you were too melancholy, too much of a vibe kill. You were worried he'd leave of he found out all the trouble you'd seen and felt.

He only wished you would tell him so that he could prove you wrong. So that he could stay. Because he would. He'd stay with you through anything. He'd burn alive to stay by your side if he had to.

"S'okay my honey," he said, taking solace in the sensation of your nose nuzzling into his neck. It was comforting to hold you so close, to feel your breath on his skin.

You took comfort in that too.

In feeling your body rest so close against his, his heart beating against you so that you could feel yours slowing to meet his.

"S'jus me an you here angel, nothins gonna hurt you, you remember what I told you?" He asked waiting to feel you nod against him.

Instead you let out a timid "uhuh," that tugged on his heartstrings.

"So go on... You tell me what Johnny told you?" He said nudging your gaze up to his with his nose against your cheek.

You sat up a little then, a small smile tugging on your lips. Shy. You let him shift you in his lap so that you were straddling his waist, your knees sinking into the mattress. Him looking up at you, his hands on your waist to hold you steady.

"Always be safe with you," you whispered, your voice barely audible even in the still of the night. "Cause you'd kill anyone who ever wanted to hurt me..." You said, one hand holding his, the other holding your cheek, your thumb dangerously close to your mouth.

"That's right," he smiled, "and don't you ever forget it... You're my little angel and there ain't nothin I wouldn't do for my little angel..." He said, his hand catching yours, guiding your thumb away from your mouth so that he could hold your face in his two hands instead.

He stroked his thumbs over your cheeks slowly, brushing away the tears you'd long stopped crying. His eyes so full of the most determined kind of love as he let his fingers stray, knuckles brushing gently down your jaw, down your neck where he let them linger for a moment following the line of a telltale scar. One Cal had called gnarly the first time he'd seen it, his thoughtless comment meaning that for weeks after you'd tried your best to cover it with turtle necks and bandanas.

Johnny didn't know how you'd come to wear such a scar but he knew it bothered you. Knew it saddened you whenever you were reminded of it. Knew he hated to see you so sad when your fingers hovered over it and traced the line. Just as they were doing now.

So he sat up a little straighter and grazed your fingertips with his lips before chasing them away from your scar with his kisses. Until you giggled and your fingers curled into his shirt instead. When he kissed your scar he felt you tense a little, felt you relax in the next moment when he closed his eyes let his lips linger against your skin.

As he pulled away he held your gaze. His eyes pooling with tenderness, so quietly trying to communicate his adoration for you.

"Now," he said a little more firm that before, "now you c'mere angel, c'mere and let me hold you," he said guiding you down to lie against him, your body on top of his, your head to his chest which felt so comforting and sturdy beneath you. He stroked his hand through your hair as your eyes fluttered shut and tried not to lie awake wondering what had happened to you. Where his little angel had been before she'd stumbled into his bar one night and found him.

[garbinge]

THE BIKERIDER AND THE BARTENDER (PT 1)

Johnny Davis x F!Reader // Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: The stories of you and Johnny fuckin' Davis. When you show up to The Stoplight for your shift, you end up getting convinced to go to the family picnic where Johnny fights Big Jack, despite your trauma around fighting.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+, regardless of content. Fighting, trauma, blood, mentions of a dead ex, lost love, haunting, language. Hurt/Comfort. A/N: This is part of a series I plan to post, just a look inside The Bikerider and The Bartenders life.

When you walked into the bar for your shift, you didn’t expect the group of bikers to be having one of their biker meetings. Sitting facing Johnny and Brucie, the chairs arranged so much differently than how they usually were when the bar crowded up at night. Your head was in another fuckin’ planet anyways but as you pushed the doors opened and were met with 40 necks turning your way, you looked around to take in the club meeting happening. 

“Sorry boys. Didn’t know it was book club time.” Sarcasm. Your language of choice especially around the guys. Despite the mockery in your sentence, your voice didn’t show it at all, you knew how to keep your composure even when the inside of your brain felt like fucking exploding. You stepped your normal pace as you moved in front of the group and were only mere feet from the leader of the Vandals and his best friend. 

“Johnny. Brucie.” With a head nod in acknowledgement you made your way back to the bar, to get set up. Clean your counters, polish your glasses, take inventory. One of the few things that made your head not feel like exploding, keeping busy.

It was then that you heard them arguing over the idea of a bar phone. Who pays for it, who uses it. If you weren’t in such a shit mood, you would have smirked, maybe even laughed under your breath, but your thoughts were somewhere else. That was until Johnny yelled. You should’ve jumped, should’ve gotten scared, your heart should’ve been beating a little faster than it was just seconds ago but the only thing that changed was the noise in your head and the position of your eyes. They went from looking down at the dirty glasses to Johnny’s seat in the middle of the bar, your head resting on the faucet and everything else about your body in the same position it was before he yelled. It took a lot more than a loud shut the fuck up to rattle you. 

Same for the guys, although, some of their faces dropped, their attitudes and conversations surely did too. You heard the screeching of some chairs, the creaking of others as they adjusted themselves. Their eyes did the opposite of yours, while yours looked up, theirs looked down. The Vandal apology you’d call it. When their eyes would lower in submission, their hands get a little sweaty, if they were more on the verbal side they’d probably fumble over their words or barely finish their sentences. They were like dogs, their wants and needs were determined by behavior and body language left for the whole fuckin’ world to decode because they didn’t have it in them to say a few lousy words. But you wouldn’t fault them on it all the time, at the very least the Vandal apology was one that dogs would see as a sign of respect, so you did too. 

“We need a phone back dere in case anyone gets in trouble, all right?” Brucie’s voice softened too. 

That’s when you realized back dere was where you were. The phone was going to be your responsibility. You were going to be its babysitter so no one made their booty calls. When it’d ring, you’d answer it and determine which drunken Vandal was the least drunk and most reliable to pick up whoever from whatever trouble. Right about now you felt like you needed your own Vandal fuckin’ apology. 

“...we’re gonna put knots on your head with it.” Brucie’s last sentence was your cue to chime in. 

“And if they won’t I will.” It was a threat. There were no two ways about it. You thought you were softening your sentence by continuing to wash the dishes, not making eye contact with the boys when you said it, just a simple reminder was all. But when the silence lasted a little longer than you expected, you looked up to see everyone’s heads turned towards you and when you looked around, their eyes fell to the ground, some with a nod for extra reassurance. There it was, your Vandal respect apology. “Thank you.” You smirked and went back to stacking glasses to dry. 

The conversation changed just as fast as it got brought up, someone mentioning expanding the club, adding charters. Shit that you couldn’t be bothered with. If it didn’t have to do with the bar, you could care less. Until you heard Johnny’s response to being challenged.

“Fists? Or knives?” 

Fighting. The trigger of all triggers for you. Ironic how you ended up tending bar, where fights were inevitable to happen. But when fights popped off like that, they were easy to brush off, you knew how to handle ‘em, breaking ‘em up, egging them on if needed in some cases, and usually just as quickly as they came to be was as quickly as they were done. But this was different. This was planned, organized, or as organized as these guys could get. This was familiar territory for you. Too familiar. 

As the crowd dispersed, you realized that as you were caught up in your thoughts the meeting had finished and the guys were going back to their pool games, moving their seats around tables, coming up to the bar. So you did what you did best to keep your head from exploding. Work. That was until Johnny stood at the corner of the bar farthest from everyone else, but closest to the door and patiently waited for you to make your way down to him. 

“Want a wrap?” You placed the empty glass in front of Johnny as he sat at the bar. You were talking about anything but food, but by the response Johnny gave you he didn’t know what you were talking about.

“Huh?” He also might not even have cared what you were saying by the looks of it, he wasn’t even bothering to look at you as you spoke, his eyes on everyone around the bar, but your next line definitely got his attention. 

“Get a sweat going?” As you poured the pitcher of beer into his glass. His head snapped to you. 

“What?” His face was scrunched up in confusion, searching your face for some clue as to what the hell you were talking about. Johnny had an idea what you meant. Sex. All this time you were working at The Stoplight, he knew you better than to attempt to flirt with you. It was clear how it went with all the other Vandals, plus that wasn’t how Johnny did things. 

“Heard you were getting ready for a fight. Hands wrapped, get a sweat going, pretty sure that’s what that Muhammed Ali guy does before a fight.” Before he could answer you were turning around, grabbing more glasses for a couple of the guys down the bar. 

Despite the tension of him realizing he misinterpreted you, Johnny’s confusion softened into curiosity. The frown was still pasted on his face but it had lightened up a bit. 

“And uh, what do you know about fighting?” He was turning completely in his seat now as you reapproached him. 

So much. Way too much even. 

“Not a lot.” The shrug was the added flair to really sell it. And Johnny’s nod was the added flair to not know if he really bought it. But it was enough to know he wasn’t going to push it. 

“What I gotta do to get you to come?” The glass was half empty and you weren’t even sure when he had drunk the thing but you were more confused at what he was saying. You had an idea. Most of the guys spoke sexual innuendos to you where you were able to pick out the ones that came out of nowhere and didn’t necessarily make sense. And that’s what this was feeling like to you. Normally, you’d threaten, scare, or firmly relay your disgust in them, but with Johnny, you didn’t know the best way to respond. He’d never flirt with you. From the first day he met you he showed you nothing but respect, never let a disgraceful comment off his tongue to you. Which is why right now you were frozen looking at him with that same confusion he was looking at you with moments ago. 

“To the fight, it’s gonna be a big family picnic. Beer, food, racing. S’good time. You should come.” 

Oh. Come to the fight. That made sense. If you were anyone else you’d probably melt of embarrassment right now but instead you just handled it how you knew best. Sarcasm. 

“What? Need a bartender to keep the glasses from gettin’ muddy.” 

Johnny smiled at that and lifted his glass to take what was likely going to be his last sip before the glass was left with bits of foam. 

“Nah, no bartender. Jus’ figured you could come by, you’re one of us you know.” 

No, you didn’t know. You weren’t one to belong anywhere, although if you had to this seemed like the perfect place. A group of misfits, of people who were outcasts, who had very little. 

“I’ll see.” 

You did more than see. You showed up. It was freezing, which was the excuse you used to grab the bottle of vodka and claim it as your own, something to keep you warm. 

“Ey! Look who showed up!” Cal was grinning from ear to earring. Offering up a simple wave you also managed out a light chuckle which was all the invite in the world for Corky to come and grab the bottle from your hands and drink it himself. 

“Get your own.” It was spoken as you snatched it back and pushed him, no smile or chuckle around at all anymore. 

“Told ya, she’d be salty.” Cal was still smiling as Corky backed off and plopped down next to him on the picnic table. 

“When am I not salty.” You smirked again in Cal’s direction, clinking your bottle to his as you walked passed, not in the mood to sit with them and hear whatever they’d get into conversation over. 

It was pretty packed, kids runnin’ around, tons of bikes lined up, dirt bikes amongst the road ones, some cars from the families that showed. It was the one place where your blue pickup didn’t stick out from the rest of the vehicles. It was old, older than old, but so were a lot of the cars that it was parked next to. 

“Smoke?” Johnny was now walking up next to you, a box of cigarettes fidgeting in his hand. His gaze was in front of him, at the bikes doing donuts in what probably used to be a simple patch of slightly dirty grass but was now turning into a muddy pit. 

“Smokin’ before a fight, seems smart.”

“Come again?” His face was scrunched up again, you knew you weren’t the best communicator but sometimes with guys like The Vandals, it made you wonder if you even spoke English. 

“Ain’t that bad for your lungs before a fight?’ With your eyebrows reaching the top of your forehead, it was a sign that you thought what you were insinuating was obvious. 

“Thought you ain’t know much about fightin’?” His hands were cupping around the cigarette now as he began to light the thing. It was the only reason his head was looking in your direction but his eyes were focused on the end of the bud as it caught flame. 

“I said I know a little.” There was that flair shrug again, the one that helped sell your lack of fighting knowledge. 

“Nah, you said not a lot.” He pointed his cigarette at you, his voice altered slightly as he held the smoke in before exhaling it, waving the cigarette again for you to take it like you were smoking a joint. 

“I say a lot of things.” There was that damn shrug again. It should’ve been a goddamn salesman with how much it was trying to sell your lies for you. 

“Nah, not really.” Shaking his head, Johnny looked over at you now, eyes and all. The cigarette was now being passed back to him as he took a few more inhales, looking back out at what you assumed the guys were cuttin’ to be the fighting ring. 

“Johnny, it’s time!” Brucie was yelling out from across the field and with no hesitation Johnny was passing the cigarette back to you. 

“Keep that warm for me.” 

The cigarette went out, but you tucked it into your front pocket as you made yourself comfortable on the top of one of the tables. It was a good amount away from the mud pit but gave you some height to take in the fight without any obstruction. The vodka bottle and you were pretty comfortable, all things considered. 

Johnny got a few hits in, but Fat Jack was landing solid blows each time, it helped that he was also throwing Johnny around a bit. It wasn’t exactly the fairest fight, but these things never tended to be. In your experience, you weren’t exactly sure the last time you witnessed a fair one. The thuds and blows were loud enough to be heard even as far back as you were. The mud even kicked up that far back as well, you were just happy that the blood seemingly stayed in the perimeter of the pit. If anyone had just shown up now, and they wanted to place a last minute bet, they’d easily put their money on Fat Jack. As Wahoo so politely put it, he was tossing Johnny around like a ragdoll and it seemed like Johnny didn’t have much left in him. 

Shouldn’t have smoked that damn cigarette. That was the thought tossin’ around your mind right now. That along with the fact that as much as fighting was a trigger for you, you fucking loved it. Your eyes were like hearts as you stared on to every hit, every step, every grunt and cry out in pain. It was fucked. But now? Fat Jack was fucked. 

For someone who got triggered by all of this, your eyes got mighty big when Johnny bit down on Fat Jack’s leg, and then the cracking of his finger was heard loud and clear as Johnny fuckin’ Davis broke Jack’s ring finger, pretty much ending the fight there. Johnny Davis didn’t fight fair, and that was a dangerous game to navigate for you. 

He was covered in mud, his nose had dried blood around it and overall it was a disgusting scene that shouldn’t have been so intriguing to you but it was. Heart eyes. You probably shouldn’t have called it that because to other people heart eyes were probably described as drooling, lust at first sight, a very obvious sign of attraction, but for you it was just intrigue. Like no matter how bloody or how many painful bouts there were you couldn’t take your eyes away. Like a car crash, you had car crash eyes, but nobody ever called it that. 

“If you were gonna let ‘em have a chapter, why’d you go through the trouble of fightin’ him?” 

“If anyone was gonna have the idea, it had better be me, right?” 

You heard his reasoning and honestly it made sense. He was the president, he had the authority and like you loved to describe them, they were dogs. This was their way of showing who the boss was. 

“How’d I do?” Johnny was looking up at you now, leaving Brucie behind as he hobbled in front of you. 

Your eyes stayed on his not looking anywhere else, similarly to his on yours. “Alright.” 

It could’ve been insulting, if it was any of the other guys, they would have puffed their chests out and started the line of excuses as to why they made the mistakes they did, or how you were wrong, probably get a little insulting back. But not Johnny. 

“That’s what I was goin’ for.” He smiled for half a second, and you could see the mud and the dried up blood there as well, but in your peripheral vision, because your look was still directly on his eyes. “You got my smoke?” He asked, despite the hobbling and amount of punches to the face he got, he was still able to move his eyebrows up in question with no issue. 

“Kept it warm for you.” You pulled it out of your pocket, your elbow leaning on your knee as it stuck out from your grip. 

“I’m gonna go clean up.” One hobble later, he was closer to you, his filthy hand was nearing yours as he grabbed the cigarette, staring at you for a half a second longer than you expected before he limped off to clean up you presumed. Brucie, his girl, and a few of the other guys and their ladies were gathered around you now but you could have disappeared and none of them would have noticed. So you did, leaving the vodka bottle for them, too. The only thing they realized was that there was a free seat for grabs and a new bottle to drink from. 

Without thinking, you walked towards the back of the field where Johnny sat next to a cooler, tossing the water on his face and using his dirty shirt to clean it off as best as he could. 

“Hope it was empty.” 

It was an honest thought, imagine pulling cold beer out of a muddy ice bath, but you wouldn’t put it past any of the guys here. Before you came around as bartender, you were pretty sure the guys drank skunked beer and from the same unwashed glasses for months. 

“Using the last of it to ice my knuckles.” He pointed to the cans on the table. As he did so, your eyes watched his knuckles which were no longer as dirty, just scraped and bruised. 

“I got some stuff in my truck, if you want I could patch it up.” Your thumb was pointing behind you at your blue pickup which was only feet away now. 

“You keep shit to patch people up in your truck?” There it was that confused face Johnny wore so often in response to you. 

“I do.” A nod. No shrug this time because you weren’t lying. You were telling the simplest version of the truth. 

“Alright then.” The pain was plastered on his face as he stood up and began his shuffle to your truck, you were close behind, letting him get a few paces ahead while you grabbed the cans of beer. There might’ve been a first aid kit in your truck but definitely no ice packs. 

The squeal your truck let out as you opened the passenger door was obnoxious. But Johnny didn’t think so. 

“Good piece of metal you got here.” He was leaning against the bed of it as he spoke to you. 

A similar noise happened again when you opened and closed the glove box once you grabbed the first aid. “Yea, that’s all it is, a piece of metal.” 

Balancing the kit on the truck bed you pulled out the alcohol, gauze, and ace bandages. With one piece of gauze, you drenched it in alcohol and rung it out once so it wasn’t dripping. “This is gonna sting.” It was the warning you haven’t given in, well what felt like forever, but came back like muscle memory once that kit was opened. 

He whimpered under his breath as you pressed the gauze to his knuckles, but he didn’t pull his hands away. They were resting comfortably on yours, if that was even possible with all the missing skin and bruised knuckles. With one more gauze pad you removed any of the leftover dirt from the open skin and wiped off the alcohol so his hands were dry. 

“So you gonna keep me on the outs here?” His eyes were locked in on the ace bandage as you wrapped it around his palm. 

You didn’t answer, you just stopped moving your hands and looked up at him. His eyes caught yours for a split second before they jumped away into the open sky. It was obvious he wished he still had that cigarette, his tongue was swiping against the bottom of his mouth. “Just meant–you know.” He shrugged, his eyebrows meeting in the center as he spoke. 

“No, I don’t know.” Your nostrils flared as your eyes went back down to wrapping his knuckles, a small smile peeking through that he wasn’t able to see. The frustration was very apparent in his next statement. “W’da fuck.” That part was mumbled and strung together like one word. “You know your shit.” He was shrugging again. 

Johnny had a way of still not saying what he was thinking even when he thought he was. “Still not following.” 

“Where’d ya learn how t’do this.” It was a statement not a question, like he finally had it in him to speak a full coherent sentence. 

You could have joked, made it feel less awkward, more of a moment, but then that wouldn’t be the truth. “My boyfriend used to fight.” 

That got his attention. For a couple minutes, he thought over what to say. The silence should have been weird for you, but it wasn’t, you didn’t care.

“That so?” He nodded, his response not leaving you much to work with in ways of a simple answer, so you opened up, a little. 

“It is.” Now, you were switching over to his other hand, it was less bloodied, but it was still needing a little TLC. “Boxed. Small-time.” 

“Early retirement?” Johnny might not have talked much, but he sure did pay attention. He noticed you were using past tense in reference to fighting. 

A small snort came out from your nose. “We could call it that.” 

“Still doesn’t answer how you know your way around a bloody knuckle.” Johnny’s voice was muffled, your eyes looking up to see he had a new cigarette in his mouth, clearly using his patched up hand to grab it while you focused on the other. “Those boxers, dey–uh wear dose gloves, don’t they?” His cigarette was bobbing up and down. 

“He did street fighting too.” 

His whole body moved along with his nodding. “So what’s he do now?” 

“Not much.” The answer came quickly, like you knew the question was coming. 

“Should bring the kid around, ain’t even know you had a boyfriend.” 

“I don’t.” Another quick answer for an expected question. 

That got Johnny’s attention, his head turned to you immediately, his brows weren’t just meeting each other over the bridge of his nose but they were probably overlapping at that point. Before he could say anything you gave the clarity he was looking for. 

“He’s dead.” Those were the magic words that changed his facial expression completely. His eyes falling down to the ground. The Vandal fucking apology.  “I don’t need no sympathy, Johnny.” 

“You used to patch him up after his fights?” He wasn’t offering sympathy, just making conversation, wanting to find out more about you. 

“Patched him up until he wasn’t able to be patched up no more.” You took a deep breath, dropping Johnny’s hand now and stepping back. He was still leaning against the truck, mentally prepared to thank you and step away but you continued to talk. “He was a boxer, pretty damn good one, too.” You laughed a little, your eyebrows raising as you remembered the countless boxing matches you saw him win. “Won enough that he got some eyes on him.” 

Johnny was nodding, fully smoking his cigarette now instead of just keeping it in his mouth and blowing the smoke out that way. 

“Hot shot guys–Cosa Nostra.” That was the only name you needed to say to give the full picture. The Mafia. 

“Shit.” Johnny said under his breath. 

“Yep, that it was. Boxing turned to street fighting, that turned into fixed fights. Which turned into the punch that got him knocked out. For good.” 

“That–uh–that’s rough.” He was shaking his head. 

You smirked, “That’s what I thought, that his funeral would be the hardest day of my life, but burying my boyfriend was the fuckin’ easy part, if you’d believe it. The rough part was getting those asshole’s off my back. I paid ‘em 150 bucks every two weeks to pay off what they had planned to win from those next scheduled fights that obviously weren’t going to happen and well, it was never enough.” 

“What’d you do to get ‘em to stop?” Johnny was looking concerned at you now, curious if this was still a problem of yours. 

“I spooked ‘em.” With your arms crossed, you waited to see his reaction. 

He pulled his cigarette from his mouth and waved his hand wanting you to elaborate. 

“I knew I couldn’t fight ‘em, I’d end up dead myself, so I spooked ‘em. Had half the crew thinkin’ they were being haunted and the other half that they were hexed. A lot of fake bloodied writing on mirrors, planted a book in their office that explained how a family had died there back in 1867, put dead mice in the cupboards, had ‘em hanging by their tails, hid porcelain dolls around too, those I’d get the ones whose eyes would open on their own, also put them in the weirdest places, best one was under the bathroom sink, guy would reach for toilet paper and be met with a hexed one eyed open figurine. Also hid up in the vents one week too and made noises, that one almost got me shot but it was what eventually forced ‘em out and too far downtown to make the trip back up for 150 bucks worth it.” 

It wasn’t a true honor to leave Johnny speechless, but in this particular instance you felt pretty accomplished. 

“Yer fuckin’ serious?” He said it so fast and with his face so twisted up. 

“Okay I lied about the rats, too gross, but everything else I did.” 

“Yer fuckin’ crazy.” It was said just like his previous statement, fast and with his face twisted up. Until he let out a laugh, one that you’d never heard come from Johnny before. “You spooked ‘em.” He spoke it through chuckles, kicking off the truck now, his finger shaking at you. “That’s good.” 

You smirked, walking back to your truck to drop the kit back into the glove box. Turning around, Johnny was still standing there, his smile beginning to fade, but the remnants of it were still there. 

“How long ago was all this?” 

The time you took to answer made it seem like you were calculating the time, but you could’ve answered immediately. In your sleep, even. 

“About two years.” It was more like 2 years and 3 months but you weren’t going to get too detailed. 

“What’d you do after you got rid of the Gambino family?” He joked, speaking the famous gangster family name, but his face was serious, his cigarette tossing to the ground. 

“Moved in with my piece of shit brother who gladly took my newly found biweekly 150 dollars.” With that the glove box slammed shut and you were sitting with your legs hanging off the side of the passenger seat. 

“What made you move to Chicago?” 

“You know, Johnny. This might be the most I’ve ever heard you talk. 

“What can I say, getting slammed in the mud makes me chatty.” He shrugged, his body still covered in dirt. 

You leaned down and grabbed the two ice cold beers before you were jumping down and closing your car door. Your hand extended out to Johnny to give him the beer, pointing to his knuckles so he could ice them. Taking your own beer, you started walking back down to the picnic, cracking it open and taking a sip. You turned back to look at Johnny who was standing in the same spot, beer can over his knuckles, dirt falling off his shoulders and smiled over the top of the can. 

“I came to Chicago for something new.”

Dividers by @realitycanbewhateveridesire ♡ 🏍️The Bikeriders Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

[ravenclawboyy]

𝑆𝑇𝑅𝐴𝑊𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑅𝐼𝐸𝑆 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐶𝐼𝐺𝐴𝑅𝐸𝑇𝑇𝐸𝑆 🍓 ₊˚࿐

‎‏♡‧ ⁺彡𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐿𝐴𝑆𝑇 𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑇𝐸𝑅 💋⋆◞

—

- ✧ The summer sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the little town. The days were long, and the heat was relentless, baking the earth and making the air feel thick and heavy. Johnny Davis found himself wandering through the streets, his leather jacket slung over his shoulder, a cigarette tucked behind his ear, not lit this time. His thoughts kept drifting back to A/N — her laughter, the softness of her touch, and the taste of strawberries still lingering in his memory.

He hadn’t seen her in a few weeks, not since that night in her strawberry garden. Something about that meeting had stayed with him, pulling him back to the edge of town again and again, hoping he might catch a glimpse of her.

Today, he decided to head back to the garden. Maybe it was fate or just a stubborn yearning that had settled in his chest, but he felt like he needed to see her again.

As he approached the small, worn-down house, he saw her. A/N was outside, kneeling in the dirt, her hands carefully tending to the strawberry plants. She was wearing a light blue sundress, her hair tied up in a messy bun, and there was a faint blush of red on her cheeks from the sun. She looked up, sensing his presence, and smiled. That same warm, inviting smile that seemed to light up everything around her.

“Johnny,” she called out, standing up and brushing the dirt off her hands. “I was wondering when you’d come back.”

He grinned, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I guess I couldn’t stay away,” he said with a playful shrug. “You got any more strawberries?”

She laughed, reaching down to pick a particularly ripe one from a nearby plant. “Always,” she replied, holding it out to him. “But this time, you have to earn it.”

Johnny raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Oh? And how do I do that?”

A/N eyes sparkled with mischief. “Help me in the garden. These plants don’t take care of themselves, you know.”

He chuckled and nodded. “Alright, deal.”

For the next hour, they worked side by side, pulling weeds, watering the plants, and laughing at each other’s jokes. A/N showed him how to handle the fragile leaves and protect the delicate fruits from the sun’s harsh rays. Johnny pretended to be clueless, but he couldn’t help but admire the way she moved, the way her hands carefully cradled each berry like it was something precious.

As they worked, the sun climbed higher in the sky, and the air grew warmer. Johnny wiped the sweat from his forehead, stealing a glance at A/N, who seemed completely in her element, a soft smile playing on her lips.

After a while, A/N stood up, stretching her arms over her head. “I think that’s enough for today,” she said, a satisfied look on her face. “Come on, let’s take a break.”

They sat down under the shade of a large tree, the branches providing a cool respite from the heat. A/N reached into a small basket she had brought with her and pulled out a handful of fresh strawberries, still warm from the sun.

“Here,” she said, offering one to Johnny. “A reward for all your hard work.”

He took the strawberry from her hand, their fingers brushing for a moment, sending a small jolt through his skin. He bit into the fruit, the sweetness exploding on his tongue, and couldn’t help but smile.

A/N watched him, her expression thoughtful. “Do you know what I like about strawberries?” she asked, her voice soft.

Johnny shook his head. “What’s that?”

“They’re sweet,” she replied, “but also a little wild. Like they don’t belong in a garden, but out in the fields, growing wherever they want.”

Johnny chuckled. “Kind of like you?”

She laughed, a light, carefree sound. “Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe like you, Johnny Davis, with your cigarettes and leather jacket.”

He felt his heart skip a beat at the way she said his name, soft and lingering, like a secret shared between them.

A/N picked another strawberry, this time holding it up to his lips, a playful challenge in her eyes. “Close your eyes,” she whispered.

Johnny hesitated for a second, then did as she asked. He felt the cool, soft touch of the strawberry against his lips, followed by the warmth of her fingers. He opened his mouth, taking a bite, the juice running down his chin.

He opened his eyes to find her leaning closer, her face inches from his, her breath mingling with his, smelling faintly of strawberries and summer air. He felt a sudden rush of nerves, a feeling he hadn’t felt in years.

“A/N…” he began, but she pressed a finger to his lips, her eyes dancing with something new, something deeper.

“Shhh,” she murmured. “Just… stay here with me.”

She leaned in, and before he could say another word, she kissed him. Her lips were soft and tasted of strawberries, sweet and wild. Johnny felt his heart pounding in his chest, his hands instinctively reaching up to cradle her face, pulling her closer. The world around them seemed to disappear, the only sound the faint rustling of leaves and the distant hum of bees in the garden.

A/N pulled back slightly, her face flushed, her eyes bright and searching his. “I’ve been wanting to do that,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the thudding of his heartbeat.

Johnny smiled, his fingers still gently tracing her cheek. “Me too,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion.

She grinned, and in that moment, they both knew that something had changed, something had deepened between them. She picked another strawberry and held it up to his lips again. “Want another?” she teased.

He nodded, leaning in to take a bite, his eyes never leaving hers. “I think I could get used to this,” he said softly.

They stayed there under the tree, sharing strawberries and kisses, the sun warming their skin, the air filled with the scent of fruit and the promise of something more. For now, it was just them, a man with a cigarette and a girl with a garden, lost in the sweetness of the moment.

End..

tags : @zablife / @xxanaduwrites / @tickettride / @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler / @pacifymebby / @iridescentprose / @mayfieldss / @garbinge / @drabbles-mc / @narcolini

[nerdy-novelist017]

Perfect (Benny Cross x Shy! Reader pt 7)

The chapter we've all been waiting forrrr! 🤗 I won't lie to you, I'm slightly terrified to post this chapter, but you all are so kind. I hope this is everything you wanted it to be! 🫶

Benny X Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 3.8k (woah, got a little carried away)

Summary- You've lived your whole life according to what everyone else wanted you to be. Tonight would be the first night of your new life -- one where you decided who you were.

******

You took a deep breath, holding it in for a few moments in an attempt to calm your quickened pulse. You had spent the whole rest of the day yesterday thinking about nothing but your future. What was set in stone and what was up to you. You knew what you didn’t want, that much was clear to you now. But could it be possible to have what you wanted when you weren’t even sure if that was what you were?

By the time you had dressed and made your way downstairs for breakfast, you felt as though you were being torn in two. One side was what your head told you to do, the more sensical side. And the other was what your heart wanted to do, the more exciting side. You entered the kitchen where your mother stood at the stove, her hair still in rollers and an apron tied around her waist as she prepared breakfast. 

“Morning, Mama,” you greeted quietly as you approached her to help. Cooking breakfast was your usual routine with your mother, a time spent with secretive giggles and never-ending stories. It was a time where the two of you would be uninterrupted, consumed by only each other in your own world. A place where you would complain to her about your boy troubles at school or how the popular girls were mean to you that day. And as you grew older, and things like high school drama no longer seemed to matter, it became a place where you could talk to her about her life. Where she would tell you how to be mindful of the world around you as she taught you to make poached eggs. A place where she had mentioned numerous times how happy she was because of her family, because of you.  A safe place – home. 

“Morning, honey,” she replied as she shot you her usual cheerful smile. “Coffee’s on the table.”

You thanked her as you poured yourself a cup. You put your apron on and began to help with the homemade pancake batter. You were so lost in the endless sea of thoughts that when your mother mentioned a familiar name, you nearly spilled the bowl of batter. 

“What?” you asked as you looked over at her. 

“I said Pete came by, asking for you,” she repeated as she did a double take at your crestfallen expression. 

“He did?” you inquired in a small voice. “Did he . . . say anything?”

“He asked if he could speak with you. He seemed real insistent,” she laughed. “I had to tell him you were in the shower to finally get him to leave.”

At your silence, she continued hesitantly, “How did your date go?”

You sighed, “It was . . . okay.”

“He seems like a real nice guy.” 

You nodded weakly, feeling oddly reluctant to tell her what had happened at the golf course, the anger in his eyes, the sudden volume in his voice as he slammed his hands against the car.

She lowered the spatula she was using to stir the scrambled eggs, and she turned to face you fully. “Is everything okay, (Y/N)?” 

You nodded again but when you glanced up at her, you could see the disbelief in her eyes. You could fool a lot of people, but your mother was never one of them. 

“What’s going on?” she prodded in that controlled mix of gentle firmness that only mothers can conjure. You were silent for several long beats, unsure of how to vocalize your feelings. 

“I don’t think I want to go out with Pete anymore, Mama,” You admitted softly and being able to speak those words aloud for the first time felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted off your shoulders so you go on, “I don’t like the way he treats me compared to others. I can’t see myself being married to him.”

She fell quiet for a few agonizing moments, and you worry that you might have said too much. You avoided her gaze, looking down at the raw batter in front of you as you tried to figure out how you can fix what you’ve just said. 

But then, “Is there someone else you met?”

You looked back at her face, your heart sinking at the sight of her serious, unreadable expression and your mouth suddenly felt too dry to speak. You only nodded. 

She looked down at her pan of eggs for a moment. “Was it that blonde boy? The one with the motorcycle?”

Your mouth fell open in shock. “How–?”

“I saw him drop you off last night,” she explained. “I was reading in my bedroom when I heard the engine pull up. And when I looked out the window, I saw the two of you standing there.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the realization that Benny was not a secret of yours anymore. He was living in your reality now, a figure to receive the scutanty of your parents, of your neighbors, of your family. The thought left a pit to form in your gut. 

“Your father will never approve of that, (Y/N),” she said, firmly shooting down your outlandish hopes. “You know that.”

“I know. I just . . . ” you trail off with a sigh as you sink into one of the chairs at the small breakfast table in the kitchen. “He’s not like anyone I’ve ever met before, Mama. He’s fun and exciting. He just seems to understand me so perfectly. And the way he talks to me, the way he makes me feel about myself . . .”

Your mother abandoned her position at the stove to sit in the chair beside you. “That isn’t a practical choice, honey. It’s not going to guarantee you any stability for your future. I want you to have a good life, to live in a good house with a husband that has a good job. He isn’t that and who knows if he will ever be able to provide you with those things.”

You swallowed the painful lump forming in the back of your throat as you looked down at your lap, knowing that she’s right. 

Her hand slid across the table to grab yours tightly. “But I also saw the look on his face as he watched you walk up to the house. That look of pure devotion and love.” There were tears shining in her eyes as she struggled to speak. “And I realized I have never seen your father look at me the way that boy looked at you.” 

Your heart shattered at her admission, and you squeezed her hand tightly, stunned into silence. 

“All I want in life is for you to be happy. That’s all I want. Every time I see a shooting star or blow out the candles on my birthday cake, I make a wish for you to live a happy life.” She swallowed thickly as her eyes fluttered over your features. “I understand that your happiness might not look the same as mine, and that’s okay. Your father won’t approve of this, and you know how he gets. But I will always support you – always.”

“Oh, Mama,” your voice cracked as you stood quickly to wrap your mother in a tight hug. 

As you stood in the embrace of your mother’s arms, you realized it had been a long time since you had been consoled like this by her. And in this moment, you felt like a little girl again, still in need of your mother’s infinitely understanding advice and kind hugs. Muffled by her sweater, you whispered, “You make me happy, Mama.” 

“You make me happy too, my girl,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. She pulled back eventually, holding you by the shoulders. “I want you to choose the thing that will bring you happiness.”

You nodded and she reached out to wipe the tears that had fallen down your cheeks as she said, “Now, help me finish breakfast before those eggs start to burn.”

“Yes, Mama,” you laughed, sniffing as you watched her move back to the stove, noticing the undeniable actions of her swiping at her own tears as she did. 

And now you stand, at the threshold of someplace you’d never expected to be, you’re nervous, but sure of yourself. Thunder rolled through the sky as a storm brewed in the distance, and you almost laughed at the realization that you had successfully outran the storm, a strangely comforting irony. Releasing your breath, you push open the door before you could give it another thought. 

The inside of the Vandals clubhouse is bustling with people, more than you had ever seen in one small place. Cigarette smoke filtered through the air, covering the environment in a haze. Loud voices, glass clinking, cue balls clacking against the pool tables all mix together with the music playing from the jukebox in the back. Overwhelmed, you stand in the doorway for a moment, eyes scanning through the sea of bodies covered in the infamous Vandals colors. After a moment of hesitation and a brief thought of turning around and going back out the door you came in, you pushed on, sliding into the room like a boat into a river. Weaving your way through the packed bar, you passed a few tables where someone bumped into you as they stood from their seat. You apologized and tried to move by, but the unfamiliar man reached out and grabbed your wrist.

“Where are you off to, pretty little thing?” he asked, his voice slurring as he tried to grin at you but he must have been seeing double because his eyesight was staring at the spot over your right shoulder. Before you could respond, someone else from the table spoke up, his voice barely heard over the noise of the bar.

“Hey, I know you,” he said, his dark slicked back hair and clean shaven face familiar, but you couldn’t place his name. “You’re Benny’s girl.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks at his words and you shrunk into yourself a bit, losing a bit of your already wavering confidence.

“It’s Wahoo,” he clarified as he too stood from his seat, moving to grab his drunk friend and pull him away from you. “Don’t let him bother you, he didn’t know who you were, was all.”

You nodded, grateful for his help. “Is Benny here?”

“Yeah, ’was over by the pool table in the back last I saw,” Wahoo responded as he pointed in the general direction. 

You tried to steady your pounding heart as you made your way to the back of the bar. Brushing into a temporarily clear path, that’s when your eyes found his tall, lean figure, that dirty blonde hair and wicked grin. Your steps faltered a bit. He hadn’t seen you yet, you could still turn around and go back to your ordinary life. But that wasn’t what you wanted anymore. You were scared, but you were here anyway. You approached the table where you saw other faces you recognized (Johnny, Brucie, Gail, Zipco and a few others whose names you hadn’t committed to memory yet) but none of them were your primary focus. 

Gail was the first to notice you nearing, and she elbowed her husband to get his attention as she said something you couldn’t quite detect in the loudness of the bar. But her commotion with Brucie garnered Johnny’s interest as he two turned to look at you, a smile breaking out across his face. Benny turned from his sidestance, his eyes scanning over the crowd in an attempt to see what was so important to distract the players while the game continued. His eyes roved over your face for a fleeting second, continuing on before jumping back to you in a flustered doubletake. 

Then suddenly, you were on the other end of the pool table, directly across from Benny who looked at you as though you were an apparition. You leaned your hands to rest against the pool table, trying to look more confident than you were as you felt the eyes of every person near the pool table on you. 

“Bunny?” Benny asked, almost speechless as he handed his pool stick off to Zipco. He rounded the table to be closer to you as he continued. “What–what are you doin’ here?” 

“I came to speak with you,” you respond, eyes glancing at the others around the table before landing on him again. “To ask you something.”

He got the hint loud and clear. “C’mon,” he said as he grabbed your hand in his own and pulled you through the room to the backdoor where he pushed it open and motioned for you to go first. 

It had already begun to rain lightly, tiny droplets hitting the concrete with a gentle pitter patter. The coolness of the outside air surrounded you in a pleasant way compared to the atmosphere inside. There were a few bikers out back smoking and talking, but Benny didn’t seem to mind their presence as he led you down the way, keeping under the dry safety of the overhang. 

“Is it always that busy?” you ask when you both stopped. With your back against the brick wall and Benny standing just in front of you, the overhang didn’t offer much room from the rain. But that didn’t seem to bother him either as his eyes were locked onto you despite the roof runoff hitting his jacket. 

“No.” He shook his head. “There was a convention in town today and most of those guys in there are from Columbus. I’m sure that’s pretty overwhelming for you.” 

Your heart fluttered at his gentle squeeze of your hand and you were acutely aware that he hadn’t let you go since pulling you along out here. “It wasn’t so bad.”

“Did you walk here?” he asked, and thunder rumbled somewhere behind him.

“No, I rode my bicycle,” you replied. “Bike, I should say, makes me sound cool like you guys.”

“You’re way cooler than me, Bunny,” he said, his voice low as he wore a lopsided smile.

You couldn’t help but mirror his expression as you looked up at him, realizing just how close the two of you were. The scent of his cologne tickled your nose in a way that sent butterflies fluttering through your stomach. It was almost unfair, you realized, that he was so effortlessly attractive – he looked good, he sounded good, he smelled good – and you don’t think he even knew the effect he had on you. And he had the audacity to look at you like you were the gem. 

“What?” he asked after your beat of silence, his eyes flickering to your lips.

“Nothing,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you blurted out the question that had been burning inside you the entire ride here. “Do you want to go to California with me?”

“Right now?” 

“No.” You tried to cover your giggle. “I mean, some day. I do want to go. Remember when we talked about it?”

“I remember.”

Benny’s unwavering gaze caused your heart rate to speed up but you trudged on, “I’ve always thought it wasn’t a practical dream, that somehow it couldn’t be me who walked down the beach because I'd been too busy with school and then school became work and work would become marriage and keeping house.” Your carefully rehearsed speech began to fragment as you spilled your jumbled thoughts. “But I realized that is so silly because it’s my life, and I–I can do whatever I want with whoever I want. And I want to go to California to see the Pacific Ocean, and I was wondering if you’d want to go with me.  So . . . what do you say?”

He stepped closer to you, his face just inches from yours, his voice incredibly gentle as he said, “I think I'd go just about anywhere you asked me to, Bunny. But are you sure it’s me who you’re wantin’ here?”

Your brow furrowed slightly at his response. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I’m not the kind of guy girls like you fall for. I’m the exact opposite.” His free hand reached out and brushed a tendril of your hair behind your ear as his voice dropped an octave. “But when I'm with you . . . I feel like I could do better. Like maybe I could be better. Not perfect, but something closer to worthy.”

“I’ve been perfect my whole life. Perfect grades, perfect smile, a perfectly quiet doll on the shelf.” You look at the biker standing before you. The exact opposite of what you’ve been surrounded by your entire life. The exact person you’ve been told to stay away from. But there were things that you noticed about him now that you hadn’t when you first saw him at the picnic. Those hands, calloused and scarred from years of fighting, were holding your own gently as if you were made of glass. That mouth, capable of verbally hurting just about anyone who got in his way, only ever spoke softly to you. Those eyes which have undoubtedly seen their fair share of the worst of humanity, gaze at you as if you were the moon. This man, the excitement you feel you’ve been unknowingly waiting for your whole life. You stepped closer to him, your noses brushing together softly as you whispered, “I don’t think I want perfect anymore.”

“What do you want, Bunny?” he asked, an unmistakable vulnerability in his raw voice. 

Your answer to him in nonverbal as you closed the gap between you, lips pressing against his softly. The world seemed to pause as you gently kissed Benny, your heart pounding in your chest. The kiss was soft at first, tentative as you both seemed to test the waters of something new and uncharted. Overcome by your overthinking, you began to draw back, but Benny’s palm cupped the side of your face, pulling you back to him with a more meaningful kiss. His lips were warm and rough, a stark contrast to the gentle way his hand held yours early as he deepened the kiss with a sense of urgency that sent a wave of heat to fill your core. His hand moved to protect the back of your head as he backed you up to the cool brick of the wall behind you. 

Benny’s mind was racing with a whirlwind of emotions he wasn’t used to feeling. He had been careful, so careful, to keep his distance, to remind himself that a girl like you would never be with a man like him. He had hoped, prayed, that you might return even an ounce of his feelings for you, but he had to be realistic. You were a beautiful dream, so far out of his reach. But now with your lips on his, your fragile hands clutching the fabric of his jacket, he couldn’t deny the truth any longer. You were breaking down every wall he had built, showing him that just maybe, he was worth more than he believed. 

He had never kissed anyone like this before – with a mix of tenderness and passion that made his heart ache in a way that both terrified and galvanized him. He moved his hand down your side, gripping your hip tightly. He didn’t want to let go, didn’t want this moment to end. Because in this kiss, he felt something he hadn’t in a long time: hope.

He’d spent so long believing he wasn’t good enough– that his life was too rough, too messy for someone like you. But in this moment, as your breath mingled with his own and your heartbeat racing against his chest, he started to believe, even just a little, that he could be the man you saw in him. That he could be worthy of this, of you. 

Your lips parted slightly, and Benny took the invitation, kissing you with a newfound fervor, pouring all his sentiments into it – the longing, the fear, the hope. The connection between you felt electric, and for the first time in a long time, Benny didn’t feel lost. He felt found. Found by you, found by this moment. 

This is real, he thought almost in disbelief, She chose me. He could hardly comprehend it, but the evidence was right there in the way that you kissed him back with equal intensity, the way you clung to him as if he was the only thing grounding you. His lungs burned and he had to pull back, but he kept his eyes closed as he rested his forehead against yours, his thumb stroking your cheek. I don’t deserve her, a voice whispered in the back of his mind, but for the first time, another voice – a stronger one– countered, Maybe I could someday. 

He opened his eyes, seeing the softness in your gaze, the way your parted lips were slightly swollen from the kiss. It hit him then, like a bolt of lightning. He wanted to be better, not just for himself, but for you. Because you deserved more than just a rough-edged biker, you deserved the world. And if you’d let him, Benny was determined to give it to you. 

“Was–was that okay?” you asked breathlessly, unsure if you’d done it right, but hoping he had felt what you couldn’t put into words. 

His eyes softened even more as a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “It was more than okay, Bunny.”

Your smile grew, a little more confident now, despite the heat tinging your cheeks. Suddenly the backdoor squeaked open and Brucie poked his head out the doorway. 

“Benny, you’re up to shoot, kid,” he said and must have seen the closeness of your bodies, the way Benny still held onto your waist because he smirked smugly. 

Benny didn’t even glance over. “Tell ‘em to hold my spot.”

“Pool?” you asked, tugging on his jacket lightly as Brucie disappeared back inside. 

Benny nodded, grinning lazily down at you. “Yeah, you ever played?”

You shook your head, feeling a little shy. “No, never. But . . . I’d like to try.”

He raised his eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “You want me to teach you?”

You nodded, this time with more certainty. “I think I’d like that.”

He took your hand, leading you back inside as the rain continued to pour around you. As he lead you back into the bar, the noise and constant chatter engulfing you once again, you felt reassured by the steady warmth of his hand in yours. And he didn't let go of your hand even when you got to the table. A few members cheered and teased Benny, but he only smiled and shook his head, his focus on you, instead. He stood behind you, positioning you gently. 

“Here’s the thing,” he murmured, his voice low and just for you. “You don’t have to know everything right away. Sometimes it’s about the journey, not just the win.”

You looked over your shoulder with a small smile, your faces only inches apart. “I think I’m ready for the journey.”

Benny’s gaze gentled. “So am I, Bunny. So am I.”

-Tag List-

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[xxanaduwrites]

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

teachin’ a lesson

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

summary: in which benny teaches the newbies a lesson ‘bout messin’ with his honey….😤 + a super cute ending ofc 💋

warnings: an absolute smack fest, the whole shabang: bar fight, dudes being creeps, talks of violence, blood, & injury. hyperventilating & shaking. unwanted advances :(

author’s note: another angst piece. couldn’t help myself…but this will be ending with a certain request i keep receiving ;) this is from the goin’ steady segment which can be found on da main hive, so they are fully dating here for time line & context purposes…or are they? 👀

word count: 4.2k

💌 requests are open, send ‘em honey 💋

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You were at the club when it happened. It being something you could only daydream about. Something you never actually expected to come tumbling out of Benny’s pretty pillowy lips.

It was a regular day — as regular as one could ever be at the club. The boys were havin’ a meeting and of course Benny dragged you along. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go. Hey — you’d been to plenty of meetings. Yet, your two cents only became required when the other guys' old ladies were involved, and today wasn’t one of those days. Being the only lady currently on the premises, you dropped your backpack on the bar, the sound of your keychains reverberating around the space with a chorus of clanks. A chorus you hadn’t noticed caught the eye of some other bikers mulling around. In your defense, you were far too focused on your man, his baby blue eyes drooping down at you with a precious pout to match.

“M’sorry, honey,” he said suddenly, eyes trained on you as y’sat your sweet butt on one of the nearby bar stools.

His apology took you by surprise, and your fingers which were now fiddling about on the zippers of your backpack paused momentarily. “For wha?” You asked, tilting your head to observe him.

“Takin’ y’here. Not bringin’ y’straight home,” he admitted, in the midst of flagging over the bartender with a flick of his finger. “Shouldn’t take too long though.”

You sighed. “S’fine, Benny. S’not like I can’t make myself busy,” you reasoned, motioning to your backpack in front of you that held all your work supplies. “Stap it with t’pologizing.”

It wasn’t Benny’s fault that he had a meeting to be at fresh after school hours. It was more your fault for not knowing how to drive. But you knew he didn’t care so much about that. He cared more about making sure you were safe and spending as much time with you as possible. And those rides well — they assured all of that. He didn’t have to worry about you waitin’ to take a random bus full of creeps. Didn’t have to wonder about the next time he’d be seeing you because surely it would be every day on your morning and afternoon drives, right?

So be it. Here you were, and you wouldn’t complain — no. You wanted to be with Benny just as much. And besides, the more time you spent at home, the more your parents were concerning you with their honey business, keeping you away from the lesson planning you really needed to do. Benny — bless his heart — was such a good sport with that. Giving you the space you needed — well while simultaneously taking it all up. You couldn’t deny how much you adored being perched next to him, tucked in a booth at Rosie’s diner, his arm slung around your shoulder. His pretty blue eyes would stare at you so intently, watching every little move you made and god was it so hard to concentrate sometimes. Yet, he made you feel so comfortable. Too comfortable, uncoiling the ball of stress that’d become you anytime you found yourself swapping or changing plans. He was so good. So attentive. Oh the thought alone was making your cheeks dust pink.

A brow raised in intrigue as he popped a fresh cig in his mouth, his smile curving around the cylinder too perfectly. “Wha?” He asked, catching the not-so-subtle shift in your features, now doused in burnin’ love.

“S’nothin’.” You shrugged and bit down on your lip, the taste of your vanilla honey lip gloss hitting your taste buds.

“Hmmm,” he hummed, eyeing you up and down for a second. A second that proved he knew it wasn’t nothing. Knew it was very much something. But, he wasn’t gonna find out. No, not with the bartender finally sauntering over and putting your conversation to a halt.

“Hay, you two,” the man greeted. Marty to be exact. He swiped a dishrag over his shoulder and dropped his hands on the counter in front of him before asking. “What’ll it be? The usual whiskey and shirley?” He asked, knowing both of your orders by heart.

“Nah, a beer’s fine,” he replied, his answer taking you by a hint of surprise, but you figured it was because he was taking you home right after. Home to your mother and father. But you didn’t want to assume. You knew Benny was well — Benny. That he didn’t care what anybody thought about him. Could give two shits about it. Yet, when it came to you — oh he couldn’t stand anyone that thought less of you. Sure, he’d still be drinking, but he hadn’t picked the harder option of the two, and hey — you understood. I mean it wasn’t like you’d be here for the night, hanging out, shooting the shit, and playing pool like a normal weekend. Hell — it was the middle of the week. An absolute bummer to say the least. “Honey?” He summoned you, swiping you right out of your thoughts.

You blinked. Once. Twice. Shook your head even, making your dangling earrings shimmy about. “Hm, yeah?”

“Y’alright?” Benny asked, his leather clad arm snaking around your back, calloused fingers hugging your side.

“M’fine. Sorry, didn’t mean to miss what y’said,'' you replied sheepishly, mind wandering all over the place. “What y’say anyways, hm?”

Benny bit down a smile then, enjoying the way your litftle nose scrunched up in pure thought. “‘Tender askin’ for your order,” he reminded.

“Oh, right! Ya, I’ll just have a plain ale, Marty.” You told him, motioning your hand about. Delicate fingers traced the air, pink ballet slipper polish doing its usual dance on your nails.

“Y’sure your alright?” Benny asked again, clearly unconvinced as Marty left you two with a solid nod, already working on your order. Benny was really good at reading you. Too good. The more he spent time with you, the easier it was for him to understand you. Knowing that you were a quite talkative and bubbly person, always so attentive to what everybody was saying, it was unusual for you to be so out of touch.

“M’sure, baby. Just thinkin’ ‘bout my plans, y’know?” You assured him, opening up your daily planner simultaneously. A vibrant array of colorful sticky pads and gelly pens jumped off the pages as you flipped through to your desired date.

“I see, I see,” Benny’s lips turned up soundly, the sight of your school books always getting a kick out of him. You were just too cute with your pretty pens and neat cursive, pencils always sticking out of your sunny updo. The passion you put in your work always felt so reminiscent of the way he felt ridin’. It was hard not to love you the most when you were in your element. “Meetin’ starting soon, so I’ll leave ya to it, Honey. But M’gonna take a piss quick. Be back for my drink.” He told you, but then asked, “Y’watch?”

“Course,” you smiled up at him, as his fingers trailed across your back, leaving your hold. And then he was off and across the room, saying something to Johnny before excusing himself completely. And you — you had your nose in your books, skimming the pages with precision, tuning out the rest of the world around you. So much so that you hadn’t noticed the drinks in front of you nor the ogglings newbies eating up your form until you did.

“Wha’s a lil’thing like you doin’, ere’?” One asked, perched to your left, an elbow knocking over your pencil case.

Before you could reply another took purchase on your right, caging you in. The stranger picked up one of your colorful pens and chuckled. “Y’know this ain’t the library, right sweet’eart?” He mused, a warm breath reeking of alcohol hitting your neck and tickling your nose.

“I —“ you began, but got cut off immediately by the original guy. The one on the left of this supposed sandwich you were entrapped in.

“S’no use Hank. Whad’a she know besides this frilly shit, aye,” he laughed, degradindly. “Y’wanna know somethin’ rough, somethin’ real, sweet’eart? Gotta itch y’need to scratch?”

You felt small. So small against these men, that you usually — oddly enough felt tall around. But no, these men weren’t your boys. Just men. Some trickling back from war. Most spawned from new chapters, doped up on things you’d never seen before. Doped up on an image and level that you didn’t know. A level you’d never match. And they didn’t like that, no — not one bit. You in your sweet savory appearance was no match against these rowdy men that didn’t know better. Didn’t know the club the way you did. The way Johnny did. The way Brucie did. The way Benny, Cal, Corky, Wahoo, Cockroach, and Zipco did. Even Funny Sonny!

“I — M’good. No thank ya,” you managed out, still startled by this whole display.

“Ahh, c’mom…know y’need it. S’just a lil’scrtach,” one of them kept going. Which one you weren’t sure, but whoever it was wasn’t taking no for an answer. Suddenly a rough hand was grabbing you and before you could react the stool went spinning around. Your vision blurred in an instant, a yelp escaping you at the contact. The bar became a fizzy of light and color, deep mahogany wood meshing into the cottony blend of your clouded eyes…

Pop!

If it weren’t for a bar of bikers being present, you would’ve thought a balloon had popped in front of your eyes, maybe even a bag of popcorn. But no — it was the man, the man who had just grabbed you, and now as your hand braced the bar behind you, your stool settled down, your vision evening out, you could see him. As clear as day, he was smack on the ground. Flat on his back. Face being knocked about. Back and forth. Up and down. Fists to skin against bone. Fists — upon your further inspection and descent across the man’s form — to be Benny. Your Benny. Pinning the man down and going at him in full force.

“Oh — Benny!” You hollered in distress when the man got a swing at him suddenly, your feet planting down on the ground in an instant without a second thought.

Of course, to your dismay, you didn’t get far. An arm materialized around your waist in an instant and pulled you back to them. And if it wasn’t for the familiar fringes of a certain jacket swinging against your sides — sparkly jewels of your own design shining in your peripheral vision — you would have fought. “S’not safe for ya, Cuz. Let ‘em at it,” Funny Sonny mumbled in your ear, the sound of his voice relaxing you as much as it could. Grateful to be in the arms of someone you knew instead of that of a strange man had you slipping without a second thought.

Eyes darting all around, your gaze lost Benny in the shuffle of it all. To the looks of it, all the newbies darted after Benny after the first swing and well — the oldies were not having that. Not one bit. What you’d come to learn later was that Benny had already been trudging across the way with a look to kill, his fist connecting with the man’s face not even a second after the man grabbed you. Another second that could’ve been too late upon anyone else’s action. Punch after punch, blow after blow, you could see them. All of them. Johnny in a wrestle with one guy, Brucie trying to block Marty and bar from any advances, Cal holding another up against a nearby wall by the collar, Zipco swiping a rando out with one hit and then sipping his beer ever-so casually, Corky and Wahoo slamming around with these other two guys near the pool table — a ball of two cracking in the process, and Cockroach being Cockroach.

With too much to process, you tried to remain steady against Sonny, but your tremblin’ became obvious. Too obvious to him under his dirt driven finger tips. “Sh, S’all good. They’ll cool down,” he assured. Of course he was right.

Breathless and exhausted, one by one the men broke apart. Panting with their hands on their knees. And then there was Benny, the last of the bunch — still pulling throws at the man under him, face soaked in a deep crimson, what features could be present?

“Benny — aye, Benny…’nough,” Johnny was calling him, pulling him up by his feet like a rag doll. “Y’lesson learned.” He mumbled in Benny’s ears hoping it would do the trick.

Benny only wrenched forward just a bit, Johnny’s hand flattening against his chest to keep him in place. Instead of keeping the physical assault going, he opted to be vocal. “Y’stay ‘way from my wife, y’here?” He spit out ever-so suddenly. Too suddenly that if Sonny wasn’t holding you back you would have fallen to the floor in complete and utter shock. Wife? Wife! Had he really just said what you thought he said? “If I see ya ever lift a finger, even look in ‘er direction again, i’ll kill ya.” He gritted out, sending a stillness across the club.

“I —“ the man choked on the ground, trying to get his words out, but failing with a breathless huff. “I did—didn’t —“

“We uh — we didn’t know she was y’wife, man. Sorry,” the other dude that had been flanked at your side earlier spoke up, who you assumed to be Hank confirming that your ears had in fact been working. That you hadn’t been imagining things after all. He had said what you thought he said, and now well — now you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“Now y’do,” he grumbled, and with one last look down at the crimson smeared man below him, he made his statement known with a solid spit.

The show was over as soon as it came, Benny turning out of Johnny’s hold. Johnny patted him on the back before he walked away. Away towards you. Only you. Johnny was saying something. Making an announcement of sorts about you when Sonny’s grip on you was released. Without a word you fumbled into Benny’s side, your makeup coded face smudging into his vest jacket as his arm curled around you. So warm. So protective. You couldn’t help but keep your eyes snapped closed as you made your way outdoors, the sound of the bar door swinging confirming your relocation. His boots stopped scruffing against the pavement and your ballet flats planted as soon as he did.

You turned in his hold, pawing, gripping at him. An unusual display of yourself before him, detached from the strong independent bubble you’d built around yourself. But he took you in. Into his hold as you snuggled deeply into his chest, practically crawling inside his colors with the two sides draped over your shoulders. His strong arms wrapped around your back without a second thought, pulling you in further, deeper, closer. Yet, you never felt close enough. Not like this that is….

“M’right ‘ere, baby. Right ‘ere.” He mumbled into the honeydew mop of curls at the top of your head.

“Aye were — he was s’close to…to…” you stammered into his chest. “an — and my p—pens..”

“I kno — I,” Benny grimaced, words catching in his throat by your addition. “Wha’ ‘bout your pens, baby?” Instead of replying you just nuzzled your face further into his chest. “Hm?” He pushed, worn fingers threading fallen strands of your hair out of your face so he could look at you. “Y’tell ya Benny, Honey?”

Looking up at him, your eyes glossed over, a light sniffle escaping you. You were too stunned to cry, but shaken enough to feel emotional all over. “One of ‘em p—pushed my pencil case o—over. Think some of ‘em f—fell behind the bar. Saw my fav—favorite pink one…” you hiccuped, words all over the place but coherent enough for Benny to understand what you were stammering about.

He found your worry over your school supplies to be real wholesome. Here you were coming off of the high of almost being attacked, and you were more worried about your work than yourself. Just went to show how much passion you put into your craft, and oh did he just love you for that.

He had to suppress a laugh, had to stop himself from smiling when you were clearly so upset. “M’sure Marty will find it, baby.” He bit down on his lip soundly and then added, “Not, I’ll buy ya a whole bunch a’new ones. Y’never realize ya lost one, yeah?”

“Y—yeah,” you nodded, the smooth skin of your face moving against his warm palms.

He knew you wouldn’t have lost one to begin with. Not if he was there. Not if he hadn’t left ya for just a minute. Not if he would’ve been more claimin’ near the bar, holding you closer. Kissin’ ya before he walked away. His biggest fears had come to fusion. The thoughts of you being creeped on were always on his mind, and yet here he was. At the club. A place he felt safe in. A place he thought you’d be safest in. Of course there weren’t any thoughts behind those baby blue eyes of his when it came to making them know you were his. He never had to after all. It was obvious in the way he looked at you. Everybody knew — well everyone before the newbies came along. And the newbies, who he’d hoped would be better than that towards the ladies, proved to be otherwise.

You tiny fingers reached up, splaying over his large hands in solace and breaking his thoughts tenfold. “How’s y’hands?” You asked, urging them lower so you could inspect them.

His knuckles were battered and bruised. Raw to the touch and he didn’t even flinch when your fingers ghosted over his burning skin. “M’fine,” he assured you, and he was fine. As fine as he could be. Barely a scratch on his face was present, just a small splash of blood dried up on the bridge of his nose. Blood of the other guy who’d been sputtering below him.

“Wha’ about you? Tha’ bastard didn’t grab ya too hard, did ‘e?” He gritted, his fingers meticulously trailing down your sides and pawing at the edges of your shirt.

“Nah, nah,” you shook your head in earnest. “S’quick, couldn’t even leave a dent.”

“Tha’ right?” he double checked, pleased to know he swooped in just in time.

“Mhm,” you hummed, your finger finding a lone string from one of his patches, clearly losing its stitch. You twirled the material ‘round your little finger, making a note to patch it up for him later on. “Y’gonna tell me wha’ that was all ‘bout anyways?” You began, not giving much context on the matter, but not thinking you had to. The elephant in the room — well now outside — was obvious. Far too obvious to ignore.

“‘Bout what?” He asked innocently, blue eyes sparkling so much that he had to look down and busy himself with his pocket. Paw out a new cigarette to stop himself from giving you a look that would reveal it all. “Had to teach ‘em a lesson. Learned from the best.” He mused, drawing a cheeky smile out of you with his obvious flirting.

But your thoughts gnawed at you, so much so that your lips tightened into a thin line. “Y’know….” you trailed off, a shyness taking over you. You kept your eyes on the string, finding it easier to talk about such a matter this way. “The whole bein’ married thang…M’not your wife, y’know?” You shrugged casually as if it wasn’t such a life changing notion.

“I know…” he mumbled just as nonchalantly. Too nonchalantly, you figured the entire conversation was canned. Never to be open again, but no — to your surprise he kept it open. “Not yet at least…” he mused and your heart lurched in your chest. Catapulted even. No one ever saw Benny as the marryin’ type. One to settle down and start a life. But here he was, pitchin’ just that in a beat. A beat that had you questionin’ for a second or two if he was messing with ya.

“Benny…” you warned, a twinkle dotting your eye as a smirk managed to scoot through your lips. “Y’Wouldn't dare pull my leg, would ya?” You asked, nibble fingers pulling out his lighter and hitting the end of his cig for him.

“Nah…Nah. M’serious,” he exhaled, a cloud of smoke swirling around you two, making y’dizzy. Looked like you were gonna need a smoke now too. Was perfect timing truly, catching him trying to rip off one his rings from his swollen fingers, the cigarette dangly dangerous from his lips. Swallowing the lump that was forming in your throat from eyeing his action, your mind buzzing about with assumption, you didn’t hesitate to shakily draw the cylinder from his lips, taking your own drag of the thing. “Fuckin’ hell…” he groaned, almost losing his patience until his pinky ring slid off with one last nudge. “‘Ere,” he motioned then to your vacant finger. A finger you hadn't realized was itching for a ring longer than anticipated. Longer than your childhood daydreams could ever imagine. “Y’wanna get hitched, baby?”

Too stunned to speak, your cheeks dusted the same shade of bright pink, mirroring your pretty pen tossed behind the bar somewhere. Holding out your hand to him, you nodded in confirmation. Making it known to him that you wanted this. Wanted him.

“S’not pretty…” he huffed, slipping the bulky thing on your little finger. “but, it’ll do f’now. Until I get ya a betta one.”

“Oh Benny, no!” You chirped, cheeks hurting from smiling so hard at the comically large ring. “S’perfect. So perfect!” You assured him, popping the cig back in his mouth before wrapping your arms around his neck in pure excitement. You couldn’t care less about one of those big rocks. A flashy piece your fellow teachers would come in with just to flaunt. Money didn’t matter to you like that, not as much as love. And you loved the fact you’d be wearing a piece of Benny’s jewelry on your finger. A symbol of himself practically adorned to you. It was beautiful. So beautiful.

His eyes widened in shock, a laugh escaping against an unusually big grin, reverberating against your chest like the sweetest song. “Now who’s the one pulling legs?” He joked, dropping the cigarette you’d been sharing to the ground and putting it out with his boot.

“Oh shut it,” you mused, pulling him down by the collar of his shirt for a kiss which he obliged. His lips molded against yours like honey — thick, sweet, and oh-so smooth. And he was all over you, buzzing you up from head to toe, stinging your neck with peppering kisses as his hands grabbed your behind like he was kneading the dough of a honey bun. In his defense you were his honey bun, and now you’d always be by law. By marriage. By love. And god did you two just love eachother so. Kept whispering it into the smokey air like a decree.

You didn’t know how long you’d been out there, but you figured it was a while. Enough time for Johnny to have a stern talking to the other guys about you. About the rest of their girls and wives and whatever other woman stepped into the club. There’d be no going after any gal like that, no matter who they were. End of story as far as Johnny was concerned. And now Johnny was sauntering outside for a cigarette, figuring you two were long gone. But no — you were leaning against Benny as he mused sweet nothings into your ear, a broad smile stretching across your sweet face making Johnny certain that you were alright.

“Aye Johnny,” Benny called the man only a few feet over, a burning orange dowsing his features in a glow as he lit up his own cylinder.

“Yeah, kid?” He raised a brow, giving Benny his attention as he took a fresh drag.

“Think y’can get that Father down ‘ere for Honey n’ me?” He asked earnestly.

Johnny squinted in the afternoon sun, blinking once, twice to digest Benny’s seriousness. “Hitchin’ a ride?” Johnny reviewed subtly, not trying to stir the obvious to the newbies inside that thought otherwise.

“Somethin’ like that,” Benny hinted, you confirming the notion just as fast. For a second time that afternoon, your pink ballet slipper nails danced in the air, but this time with a funky new addition to the mix.

And Johnny couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, delighted at such a sight. Knowing as sure as shit that he’d do everything in his power to make sure the two of you were happy. Cause Benny was family, and now you’d be too. Calling Father? ‘Course he would. He’d be crazy not to as far as his daughters were concerned. Couldn’t wait to tell them that their favorite teacher would be their brand new auntie. They’d be jumping up and down for sure.

“I’ll give ‘im a ring,” Johnny confirmed like a big ol’ fairy godfather.

And there, outside the bar after a crazy afternoon of swinging fists, it was settled.

Sure as shit — you’d be the future Mrs. Cross after all. And hey — maybe that bastard biker was right about one thing. You had an itch to scratch for sure. One that required filling your notepads and planners with your sweet swirly cursive, your new name etched into the thin sheets with your favorite pink pen….

Mrs. Cross. Mrs. Cross.

Mrs. Cross. <3

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author’s note: these bees are engaged !! 🐝💍🐝

big ty to @zablife for being such a doll & inspiring the iconic mrs. cross cursive. x 💋🫶

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

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

smoochies. all da love xanadu 💋

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[lyralu91]

The tension here got me HOOKED from the fucking start! Gosh. And the way you capture Johnny through expressions, small gestures and dialogue is brilliant 🤩😌🫠 (I really shouldn't be reading btw, cause I HAVE to focus on my wip, but again: you got me hooketh and shooketh!)

“You’re not unattractive,” he said in a low voice. "I bet they make ya look even prettier."

“How would you know?” your tone matched his, your blood heating another degree. 

Johnny came closer, raising his hands to run his thumbs above your cheeks, where your glasses usually fell. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, but they were beautiful. Dark. Full of fantasies. 

“Just imaginin’,” his raspy voice sent a hot shiver down your spine. "I've been lookin' at ya since you walked in, but I hadn’t noticed those freckles right there."

Your heart hammered in your chest."

So cute and hot and perfect! Definitely made MY heart hammer 🥵

I’ve just seen a face || J.D.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

pairing is johnny davis x f!reader

in which the man you've been staring at all night long at a party meets you in the kitchen, and suggests to walk you out where it's safer. the only danger is not being able to stop kissing him.

word count: 2k

warnings: 18+ (mdni), alcohol, mention of weed, men being creeps, smoking, sexual tension, kissing and a touch of fluff?, "girls are prettier without glasses" speech (ugh), maybe a few mistakes and nonsense

AN: I can’t believe I've spent a whole afternoon on this. anyway, this is a gift for myself as I’ve spent my first day at my dream college, and I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. And yes, I love very long gifs.

The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful. — The Picture of Dorian Gray

 

Johnny’s lips hovered over yours, mixing his warm breath with your shaky exhales. You had never felt so connected to another human being before. Never felt your soul leaving your body that way. And here you were now, nose-to-nose with a man you didn't even know.

A deep, unwavering sexual tension had tethered you to Johnny for hours. Even since you had stepped into the house, actually. It had been hard to see right through the smoke, even more since you had decided to ditch your glasses for the night, just for the experience. Well, it had been a fucking mistake. All the faces were blurry, and you swore you introduced yourself twice to the same people, all of them hoisting their beer and exchanging looks you didn't quite understand.

It doesn’t matter, your friends told you. They won’t remember anything the next morning. You supposed it was a relief, to think people would forget about you in just a few hours. At least until you saw that guy who had been standing in a corner the whole time. 

No, not a guy. A real man, with broad shoulders and a certain way of carrying himself. Even from across the room, you knew he was respected.

It had taken you longer than necessary to reach the kitchen behind a group of wobbly men, bumping into shoulders and apologizing inaudibly. Someone talked to you but you barely paid any attention, giving a small "okay" instead as you focused on getting to the kitchen in one piece.

Rubbing your eyelid tiredly, you nearly scratched your eye out when a hand closed around your wrist, though it felt warm and gentle.

“Hey.”

The man from the corner was looking down at you, worry flickering in his eyes. So close to you, he was even more handsome. Full lips, a face that carried memories. Clearly, he had seen a lot.

“Ya need help?”

“No?” You dragged the syllable, confused as you shot a look at your friends. The three of them had crashed on a couch, their loud laughter drawing attention. You might have looked drunk though, you gave him that. “I’m just headin’ for the kitchen. Gotta drink some water before I start feelin’ all…”

Your vague hand motion made his lips twitch in amusement, which pulled a smile to your lips too. It slightly faded when he removed his hand from you, and you turned back around.

So he had noticed you.

A strong scent of alcohol and weed burned your nostrils when you walked over to the sink, your eyes sweeping over the room to find where the glasses were stocked. Littered cups filled with some sort of alcohol mix had your nose wrinkled up at the smell, wondering what was wrong with those people. Did they really enjoy drinking this? Finally, stacked glasses that seemed clean enough caught your eyes.

And now that same man was standing at the threshold.

“I’m old enough to be left on my own, y'know," you said sarcastically, almost nervous to be left alone with him. Was he one of the creeps? Or just a man bored to death?

In response, he nodded like you had made a great point. “Just don’t want ya to feel unsafe, is all.”

You shrugged, retrieving a glass, checking it was somewhat clean, and filling it with water. “I know how to throw a punch. I've been taught the basics.”

“Show me, then.”

The three words made your heartbeat faster. With your free hand, you closed your fist, barely thinking. 

“Nah. Ya’d break your thumb like that.”

Your gaze flitted to your hand for a second. “Yeah. Probably.”

Another nod was addressed to you, and a moment of silence wrapped you both in a comfortable bubble. You drank the water silently while he kept his eyes on you, which would have looked truly odd did he not seem safe. He looked exhausted, though. Maybe a bit entertained. Maybe like he’d been waiting for someone like you to light up his evening.

“I’m Johnny.”

You gave your name back, watching his smile that definitely shouldn’t have caused a hot nudge in your lower body, considering he would surely move on from you the next day.

Still, the tension choked you as he stepped further into the room, picking up a bottle of beer in a bucket. Your hand tightened against the glass when you opened your mouth to ask where he was from–the usual small talk you used when silence made you uneasy–and instantly closed it as two bearded men barged in, ruining the moment.

“I say, "You ain’t goin’ nowhere, motherfucker",” the first one spat, waving a gun in the air. “I captured you.”

Swallowing thickly at the sight of the small handgun, you set the glass back down into the sink and glanced over at Johnny. Your senses returned to you enough to do some calculations. From what you could see, you could slip beside him and make your way back to your friends swiftly. But those two creeps had spotted you, standing there like an outsider or just a woman, and nerves started filling your body as you hyped yourself up to take the few steps toward freedom. There was no way you were staying there to risk being shot accidentally. What a stupid end that would make.

Johnny’s brow furrowed at those guys and back at you, sensing your discomfort. He tipped the drink to his mouth, taking a long sip as you took a deep breath. 

“I think I’ll head out,” you announced quietly, ignoring the men’s hot gazes on your back.

It was a shame to leave so fast, but maybe you just weren’t meant to be talking to Johnny. You believed in all that stuff fiercely.

Johnny’s head turned around, watching behind him before meeting your eyes again. “I can’t see your friends.”

“Oh, they must be smokin’ somewhere out there.”

Giving a small nod, he stepped closer to you and left his beer near the sink. “I’ll walk ya out.”

You cleared your throat, trying to alleviate the lump forming from the thoughts racing through your brain. His hand settled on your lower back as he guided you to the back door, and you didn’t think once. Perhaps you'd finally have that time alone with him, after all. He didn’t look like he wanted to leave either.

The cold breeze hit you in the face as you squinted through the darkness, praying hard not to fall or trip or do anything embarrassing in front of him. And that was exactly what you did. The couple of stairs were poorly lighted, and there was only one idiot to miss that one step. You.

“Shit,” you stumbled, chuckling awkwardly when you felt Johnny’s hand on your waist, making sure you were not collapsing.

“Alright?”

“Yeah,” you replied quickly, unable to stop yourself from smiling. 

Maybe it was his big hands on you, or maybe it was just the one beer you had drunk, but the wind seemed less cold, less aggressive on your skin. God, he looked so... attractive.

A small smile graced his lips as he gazed down at you, almost checking you out. “Should’ve slowed down on the beers.”

Another giggle escaped your lips, trying not to shrink under his gaze. “It’s not about the beers, promise. I just can’t see nothin’ without my glasses.”

“You lost ‘em?” Johnny asked, a wrinkle appearing between his brows. 

“No. Um… I’ve been told girls are prettier without glasses.”

He made a sound. Kept frowning. That was your cue to blabber on. 

“Not that I found myself… unattractive. I just thought I could try one night without wearin' them. Which was really stupid, considerin’ I’ve almost died at least twice.”

You pursued your lips as you caught a whiff of his scent on his leather jacket, willing yourself to shut up and flee. As you were supposed to. And yet, as dumb as you sounded, Johnny’s eyes were fixed on yours and did not leave for a moment. He was listening carefully, blocking out the world to hear your silly explanation. 

“You’re not unattractive,” he said in a low voice. "I bet they make ya look even prettier."

“How would you know?” your tone matched his, your blood heating another degree. 

Johnny came closer, raising his hands to run his thumbs above your cheeks, where your glasses usually fell. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, but they were beautiful. Dark. Full of fantasies. 

“Just imaginin’,” his raspy voice sent a hot shiver down your spine. "I've been lookin' at ya since you walked in, but I hadn���t noticed those freckles right there."

Your heart hammered in your chest. It was all going so fast, but the mere thought of slowing things down was absurd. You couldn’t think of anything but feeling his lips on yours. Moving your body with his. Feeling so wanted he might die, and you as well. You usually were careful and rather shy when it came to flirting, but why would you resist the temptation now?

The party didn’t matter. The people out there didn’t matter. Hell, even your friends didn’t matter. It was only you and the man you had checked out (ogled) all night, the man who had made sure you were feeling safe, the man who had caught you in his arms like they did in the movies. 

It did feel like a movie anyway. None of this felt real. 

“I can’t see much, but you look pretty attractive too,” you dared to say, though you wished you had sounded bolder. 

His lips nearly touched yours. The top of your noses did, causing you to chuckle. What was even happening?

“See me better now?” Johnny muttered, angling his face.

"Much better."

"Good."

You had known a few men, kissed a few of them, but nothing had ever come close to this particular moment. Nothing had ever felt so exciting, so hot and passionate. You didn’t want him to forget you. Fuck, you were sure you would think of these minutes until your last breath. You needed to have him, even for a short moment.

Nose-to-nose with a man you didn't even know.

“Johnny?”

“Mmm?”

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Emboldened by his widening smile, you closed what little distance was left between your mouths and pressed a soft kiss against his lips, just testing the waters. You hadn’t expected it to feel that good. Like a taste of heaven. Gripping his shoulders, you drew yourself high against his chest and slipped your tongue into his mouth, a tiny sound mixing with a groan of his. His hands pressed against your back, holding your waist like a fragile doll as yours slid to the back of his head. Fuelled by the need to make him moan again, you wrapped both arms up around his neck until you were shamelessly making out on the grass, wishing he could do something to alleviate the burning in your body. It was bewitching.

You were out of breath when you landed on your feet again, as though you had just taken a trip to the stars for a minute. Clearly, Johnny was as dazed as you were. 

Looking over his shoulder, you found no less than ten faces peering out the window, and a couple more watching from the front porch. Smoking. You bet your friends had seen it all. 

“Shit,” you whispered, at a loss for words. 

Johnny ran his thumb over your lip, his eyes tracing his own movements as he did. ‘Tell me where ya live.”

Forgetting everything about the safety rules you had always followed when it came to men, you whispered, “Next to the shoe store. I work there on weekends.”

The detail had slipped out, but you just wished he would suggest picking you up someday. Don’t let him forget you, your brain kept saying. You couldn’t be anticipating the saddest goodbye of your life yet.

“You’re workin’ tomorrow?”

A bit of hope flickered in your chest. Men usually fucked off after getting what they wanted, but he seemed really into you. That was unreal.

“Tomorrow’s Friday,” you grinned playfully, chuckling as he nodded. 

"Tomorrow’s Friday," Johnny repeated, realizing his mistake. "Guess I don’t wanna spend one day waitin’ to see ya again."

“Me either,” you admitted lowly, removing a strand of hair sticking to your lips. “You can—you can still come on Saturday, if you want to.”

“You’ve been on a motorcycle before?” 

You shook your head, wondering why you felt so bashful all of a sudden. Johnny’s lips curved at your hesitancy, holding your gaze for a moment. His eyes full of promises again.

“Hmm. Ya should leave before I keep ya out here with me,” he declared, snapping you out of your thoughts as he squeezed your hip gently and stepped backward. 

And with that, the moment was gone.

“Saturday, then?” you asked, just to make sure. 

You sounded almost desperate, but you couldn’t care. There was something scary about being so attracted to someone so fast. What if a simple change of heart left you heartbroken?

“Saturday,” Johnny confirmed, making it sound like it was years away. 

You dropped your gaze for a second and raised it again to look at him one last time, the steadying sounds of your breathings filling the cold air. Johnny broke the eye-contact to check that your friends were still standing in the distance.

“Ya need help walkin’ over there?”

The question made you smile. “I’ll be alright. I’ll try to walk in a straight line and avoid people."

Johnny’s stare could have been a good reason to stay with him and let him keep you, but after a second of hesitancy, you willed yourself to utter a small ‘Well, see you, then’. You made a beeline to your friends, blinking a couple of times as though your vision would become clear again. 

You shot one look behind. Johnny was waiting for you to reach the others, not moving.

They all shouted in your ear when you stepped on the tiled floor, but you weren’t listening. Just thinking of how fast it all could change when you least expected it. You weren't fully sure he'd really show up in two days, so you crossed your fingers during the whole ride back home and hoped he wouldn't forget. You were already longing for this man’s touch.

[zablife]

Make Me Yours

Johnny Davis x female reader

Johnny Davis Masterlist

Summary: You make a request of Johnny during the heat of passion.

A/N: I'm ovulating, there's literally no other excuse.

For the purposes of this fic and most others, Johnny is single with no kids.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, clingy gf, unprotected sex, breeding kink

Johnny thinks it might have begun the night you were slow dancing in his living room, feeling pleasantly fuzzy from the booze and the soft static in the summer air. Wrists draped lazily around his neck, nose pressed against his jugular and your hips so close to his, rotating slowly. With his leg wedged between yours he could feel the gentle pulse throbbing at your apex. Meeting your gaze to find your eyes electrified with desire, he knew then, you would be insatiable.

He soon learns that the most innocent touches always lead to something more. The gentle rake of your nails across his jeans signal a growing need to stroke him under the table. Hand holding in front of the television set is derailed the moment you guide his thumb to your mouth to suck softly, eventually sliding into his lap for a slow fuck. Johnny never protests, giving his baby anything at all.

However, he didn't realize how much of him you truly craved until the night he was thrusting into you, breath hitching as he realized he needed to withdraw.

Legs already wrapped around his torso, you tightened your hold in protest. Nails clawing against his shoulders and heels digging into his lower back, you forced his attention back to you with a desperate whine. "Give me a baby, Johnny," you moaned into his ear.

He studied your pouty lips and dimpled forehead for a moment, the pleading look tugging at his heart.

"Make me yours," you urged, breasts heaving against him.

Brain fogged with pleasure and overcome with the thought of claiming you, he seated himself deeper inside you as you moaned in contentment.

Resuming a more tender pace, his forehead dropped to yours and his eyes slipped closed, allowing himself to imagine his sweet angel swollen with his child.

Already drunk on the feeling of him nudging that sweet spot that made you see stars behind your eyelids, your head lolled to the side, but Johnny brought your face back to his with a firm hand. His voice broke slightly as he asked, "Gonna make me a daddy, hmm?"

"Course" you nodded with tears welling your eyes. "Want everyone to know I'm yours."

That's all it took for him to loose himself, burying his nose into the crook of your neck, he shuddered with his release. Arms wrapping you in a bear hug, he mumbled words of adoration and praise against your skin.

A contented smile graced your lips as he held you in the comforting security of his warmth, unable to recall a time you'd felt so complete.

[ofcourseiwillmydarling]

I genuinely don’t know if there’s an audience for this but it’s basically a longer and filthier version of this.

You didnt mind being used, not at all — you weren’t there in chains, or against your will or anything — it's what you were there for.

It started with you sneaking Sonny into your parents' place through your window, him using your pretty mouth to take his frustration out on — after all, it was the least you could do, your daddy was making his their life a living hell.

In the beginning it was just Sonny, but now they share – using your body as the escape they claim works so well. Everyone is using you to relieve some stress – and they're pleasantly surprised at the fact that you're more than willing to have some dirty outlaw crawlin' up between your thighs. You don't object; you just spread your legs even further and let out those pretty noises they love so much.

And then when the police had made life intolerable for them by constant harassment, Johnny decides to try what his friends have been doing from the beginning and the moment he sinks into you in one syrupy, slow thrust he finally fucking gets it.

You're so warm. You cling to his shoulders and he thrusts deep – your body going slack as he drives inside to the hilt over and over again. He glances down at you - watching your cunt spreading apart, making room for him. He's loud. The squelch of each spear of his cock is obscene. Pornographic.

Thats when it comes to him. He understands now. He understands why even Zipco was uncharacteristically bashful around you — begging for that special brand of comfort only you could provide.

All he wants to do is cum inside of you.

This is wrong. It's risky. Your dad being the sole reason for the police harassment. "We'll put half of 'em in jail and the other half in the graveyard." He ignores these worries. He's in too deep now. He's hooked on your cunt - the warmth of it - now that he's had a taste.

My requests are open ! Im thinking about turning this into a series so if you want a character in particular to be in the next part let me know :)

[colsons-baker]

Property of Benny

The inspiration for this one-off came from a photo I saw of the real Kathy. First time writing for The Bikeriders and Austin so if you would like more then let me know!

Benny never was one for jewellery stores, god knows he had never step foot in one until that day, looking for an engagement ring. He thought it would be easy, just walk in and pick the ring and leave just as quickly. He had been saving up the money for it since the day he first met Y/n, he had known right away that he couldn’t have anyone by his side but her.

Benny Crosss had never done anything the proper way in his life, but he wanted to do this right. Y/n deserved a ring and a proper proposal, she deserved the heavens and the earth and he would go through hell to give it all to her. But nobody had told him that hell would be a snobbish jewellers in the middle of town. He felt eyes on him the whole time, he was being followed as he looked at each piece. Sure, he was a Vandal and he had a reputation, but he didn’t like being treated like a criminal when he had done nothing wrong. Benny let out a sigh as he looked at one of the rings and then glanced towards the door. His jaw clenched slightly before he looked down at the ring again. Y/n deserved the best, but no ring in here would be good enough if he remembered this experience every time he looked at it. Y/n didn’t deserve his bad memory associated with something like this. So he walked back out again, what a waste of time that had been!

——————————

Benny let go of a little chuckle as he sat with Johnny and Betty at a table in the club, a beer bottle in one hand and his free arm resting over the chair. Suddenly, a detail on Betty’s jacket caught his eye. “What’s that?” He nodded towards the patch as he leaned forward, elbows on the table. Betty looked down to where Benny had nodded to, at her patch with Johnny’s name on it. “Oh that?” She asked with a laugh as she shook her head. “Just somethin silly.”

“Let’s everyone know she’s my girl.” Johnny said, wrapping an arm around her before placing a kiss on her head. “I made it myself, thought it would be somthin nice.” Betty shrugged. Benny looked at the patch for a moment, feeling like a lightbulb had just come on in his head. “Can you do me a favour?” He smiled. “Sure! What do ya need?”

——————————

“Hey…” Benny said quietly as he walked into the empty club. He had just gone round to Johnny’s to collect the surprise Betty had helped him with as the other members cleared out, knowing that the place would be empty, bar Y/n, when he got back. “Hey! Where did you disappear to?” She smiled over at him from the table she was wiping down. “Oh, just had to pick up something from Johnny’s.” He motioned to the denim jacket draped over his arm. Y/n nodded and went back to her cleaning, telling him she wouldn’t be long more.

He wanted to do it here, in the club. This place was his second home, it had been his home until he met her. The bright-eyed barmaid that Johnny had hired to make the place somewhat respectable looking. He had stared at her across the bar and he knew it was over for him, that his heart was no longer his own.

“Leave that for a minute baby girl. Come ere.” Benny was smiling but he had never been so nervous. He watched her as she walked over, her laugh like music to his ears as she asked what was wrong. His eyes scanned every bit of her face as they stood in front of one another. He was already the happiest man alive just having her in his life. He took a deep breath. “You deserve somethin proper…” He began before shaking his head, a little chuckle escaping his lips. “God knows I wanted to do this proper, but you know me baby girl, I ain’t proper.” Y/n laughed some more. “What are you on bout Benny Cross?” Benny took the jacket in his hands. “You stole my heart the moment I set eyes on you, y’know that? I’ve wanted you to be mine since that very first look.” He unfolded the denim to reveal Betty’s handy work; the Vandals logo with ‘PROPERTY OF BENNY’ sown in. “So be mine.” Benny looked at Y/n expectantly. “Be my wife.”

[confessionbrain-writings]

Three - Benny Cross

Summary: Benny fucks you in Johnny's office, but it turns out you're not alone.

Pairing: Benny Cross x F!Reader x Johnny Davis

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smutty content, protected p in v, semi-public(?), being watched, what do I know I'm too tired for this rn

A/N: So I had this brain-fart which I wrote down on my phone. I didn't proofread it, so there will be mistakes!

--

“Jus’ take ’t off.” Benny impatiently mumbled against your lips. His skillful fingers had already unbuttoned your button down dress halfway, exposing your bare skin as the fabric pooled around your middle. A frustrated groan made its way out of your throat as you struggled to unbuckle Benny’s belt, the leather strap somehow wouldn’t give. 

“Argh!” You shouted and leaned back, trying to sort out why the damn belt was tormenting you. Turns out, you tried to pull the strap before the loop of his jeans. 

“You do it.” You ordered Benny and swatted his hands away so you could quickly stand up and get rid of your shoes. Benny unbuckled his belt in a singular motion, pulling it swiftly through the loops - ofcourse he could - and opened his fly. Just within two second you were on him again. Knees digging into worn-out seating of the couch on either side of him, as your fingers snaked through the blond locks of the handsome biker beneath you, eager to feel his lips on yours again.

All night you’ve been eyefucking each other, and in turns, touched the other inappropriately when passing by. You stroking the denim-covered bulge in his jeans, while he roamed his hand over the soft skin hidden under your skirt. Benny had never finished a game of pool that fast and had taken you to Johnny’s office at the end of the hall.

And here you were, making out on Johnny’s couch like two starved animals. That’s just what this was. It was a carnal need, taking over your clear conscience as you complied to your eager bodies. Wanted to be touched by Benny’s rough hands, while you ached to feel him under your palms.

A satisfied gasp left you when Benny sneaked his hand into your panties. His brow furrowed as he whispered a curse when he met your wetness. “Fuck baby, that all f’me?” He could tell how worked up you got, how much you craved him and the feeling was absolutely mutual. So when he met the slickness seeping from you aching pussy, he was a goner.

“Please, Benny!” You begged as you reached down and released his cock from his pants. He was so hard already.

You flipped your thumb over his pre-cum covered tip, electing the most sinful sounds from him. Not only did Benny made you feel good by touching you so godlike, but the way he responded to your touch… it was a drug you didn’t know you needed, and he had you addicted like a junkie on crack.

Benny praised on how you touched him. “Y’feel s’good, baby” and “need y'so bad". His desire-laced words adding to the throbbing between your legs.

Even though you enjoyed touching each other, you were too horny to take your time to extend the foreplay. A whiny protest left your lips as Benny retreated his hand and you pouted at him. He watched you intently as he lifted his fingers to his mouth, licking your juices right off and he hummed.

Your breath hitched in your throat at the indecent - but oh so hot movement, making a shiver run down your spine.

"You're bad." You said hoarsely and he chuckled as he retrieved a rubber and rolled it down his cock, you let your eyes follow his movement and licked your lips. You were so ready for him and couldn't wait to get him inside of you.

"I know y'like that," he responded and watched how you were watching him. "But y're no better. Guess that makes two of us."

A playful smile pulled at your lips as you flicked your eyes up to his. Instead of responding, you licked your palm and stroked his cock, using your saliva as extra lubrication.

"Yeah," Benny breathed affirmatively.

You couldn’t stop the squeal of pleasure when you sank down on his cock. The way he fit so perfectly, stretching you open, which was on the border of pain and pleasure, it had you reeling for him.

“Look t’me” he demanded hoarsily. You did as he told. Looking into to those piercing blue eyes, now filled with desire as you started to move up and down.

“Oh God!” you moaned, eyes rolling back at the sensation spreading through your body.

“Nah baby, ‘s jus’ me. But Imma fuck y’so good, y’ll see ‘em.”

And fuck you good, he did. He snaked the pooling fabric of your dress into his fist, lifting it to up so he could look how you took him so well. The sight of his amazing cock disappearing in your eager pussy, made the coiling feeling within you even bigger.

As you rode Benny, you leaned back in to kiss him again. Teeth and tongue clashing, the spiked up need making it all sloppy, but that was what also made it hot. His fingers dug into the skin of your waist, enforcing the bucks and rolls of your hips.

His cock hitting all the right spots, making your skin break out in goosebumps. You flung your arms around his neck and moved your face next to him so you were cheek to cheek, panting filling each others ears.

"Ah! Right there!" you whisper-yelled and squeezed your eyes shut. Benny wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. His rough jacket scraping your bare breasts, creating a friction which added even more to your upbuilding orgasm.

"Oh Benny!" you moaned as you bounced on his cock. Feeling so good, good, good. Benny responded with a "fuck" as he upped the pace.

You clawed at his neck, clutching him like he was a life-raft and you were drowning. At first your sight was a bit hazy and blurry, but with a few blinks you saw clear and a sob escaped you.

Right there, at the door - which was slightly ajar - stood someone. No, not just someone. It was Johnny.

"Ben—" you started but the pleasure and pace Benny fucked into you, took your ability to communicate away. A whole new sensation spread through your body. The realization sinking in that you were- one, fucking Benny on Johnny's couch and two, did it while Johnny watched.

You raked your nails down Benny's neck, to the roots of his hair and yanked his head back. "Jesus Christ, woman!" Benny cursed, squeezing your waist so hard, you were sure you were gonna have bruises the next day.

"Benny," you addressed him again. "It— it's Johnny!"

Benny halted his movements, looking over his shoulder at the door where Johnny stood. He huffed before turning back, pulling you closer so he could press his lips against your neck and continued like nothing happened.

Your heart pounded aggressively in your chest, both from the way Benny was making you feel but also the fact that Johnny just watched you.

"He— he is w—watching," you got out.

"Let 'em fuckin' watch." Benny growled.

Tiny shivers hit every part of your body, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

"Let 'em look 't what he can't have." he added.

Benny wanted to make Johnny watch how he fucked you on his couch in his office? Some part of you said it was inappropriate but the other - louder - part screamed at how exhilarating and hot this was.

Johnny just stood there, but you felt the heath of his gaze. The whole situation making you tighten your core, which made Benny moan.

"I think the doll likes bein' watched." Johnny grinned, sensing the way your body responded.

Benny raked his teeth along the delicate skin of your neck, and then sucked, and he sucked hard, which made you yelp. For fuck's sake. He was giving you a hickey! Marking you as his.

Before you could protest, Benny dug his heels into the carpet, and started to drill into you like a madman. There was no way you could coherent any more words or form any proper thoughts. Especially when he smacked your ass, making your gasp for air, the flush skin of your ass tingling pleasantly.

The sounds of slapping skin and moans echoed through Johnny's office. Your orgasm building and building till you fell right over the cliff and into oblivion. Benny's name spilling over your lips like a prayer, as your eyes fluttered shut.

Benny chased his own high, jackhammering into you even harder and faster, which made you cling to his jacket as your eyes flicked up to Johnny.

Johnny licked his lips as he met your cock-drunk gaze and just when Benny called out your name and came, you winked at Johnny. You saw him take a short intake of breath and shake his head slightly.

"Y'both 're bad."

Leave some 🧡 by a comment or reblog, would love to hear what you think and if you like to read more!

[semperamans]

wait hold on... because imagine having a big ole crush on someone n'this crush is just crushin' your feelings :( they just don't reciprocate and you're such a lovey girl :( but they don't care about the smell of your perfume n'the fact that you wore that new pretty dress for them :( but johnny does n'johnny is your everything so you go to him all watery eyed and sniffly and he knows just what you need :( knows you need some lovin' so pushes himself back from his desk, spreads his legs n'pats his thigh for you to come take a seat :'( "my pretty girl, what's goin' on, mm? you tell johnny what's botherin' you, baby." :'(((( you sit on his lap and fiddle with the collar of his shirt as you explain that this person just doesn't like you the way you like them and your feelings are so hurt :( "just wanna be loved on," you whine, nuzzling your face into his neck. the scratch of his beard feels so good on your cheeks :( "these young kids are all over the place, y'know?" johnny says, fingers trailing the length of your spine. "what y'need is someone who knows how to do you right, y'know? knows how to take care of ya." but ugh :( you just have so much love to give and no one to give it to and you're getting antsy, squrimin' in his lap :( "look at me, peach. c'mon." and jesus christ :( your little nose and cheeks are all pink from rubbin' on him and johnny's eyes soften and he's cuppin' your face and bumpin' his nose into yours. "want johnny t'take care of ya? mm? wanna give your lovin' to me?"

[strayrockette]

His Eyes on Me: Part Three

Masterlist/Part One-Part Two

Summary: The summer festival is in full swing, Natalie and Lacey try to encourage her to talk to Benny. She gets some practice later on in the day.

A/n: This chapter went through SOOOOO many drafts and edits. I'm so glad to get it out of my sight and excited to see your guys' response because yah girl over here could not STAWP gigglin'

The sound of our laughter echoed lightly around us, and the sweetness of vanilla ice cream melted on my tongue as I half-listened to Natalie and Lacey giving me what they called “The Benny Crash Course.”

It was their latest attempt to prepare me for any future run-ins with the guy who’d been on my mind a little too much since we’d met. Every day since our awkward first encounter, my thoughts had drifted back to his piercing blue eyes and the calm way he’d answered my question, like he had no problem just staring at me. It was disarming, to say the least.

"Next time you see him, talk to him," Natalie urged, her eyes serious but her lips twitching with a smirk. "Just be your normal, funny self. You’ll be fine."

I couldn’t help but snort into my ice cream, leaning forward and shrugging with exaggerated comical disbelief. “Or I could… you know… run away? Worked last time.”

Lacey burst out laughing, nearly spilling her own ice cream. “No, no! Talk. You will use words,” she teased, giving me a dramatic point with her spoon, her expression all mock seriousness.

I straightened up, tapping my chin thoughtfully as if considering something very serious. “Or…” I drawled, leaning back with a mischievous grin, “I could not talk to him. Save myself the embarrassment. That sounds pretty ideal.”

Both Natalie and Lacey stopped in their tracks, giving me the most synchronized deadpan expression I’d ever seen. “Absolutely not,” they said in perfect unison, their matching glares enough to make me crack up.

I sighed and playfully threw my hands up in surrender. “I don’t know, pretending he doesn’t exist seems like the best plan. Ignoring problems always works, right?”

Lacey shook her head, barely containing a smile. “Oh yeah, because pretending a tall, handsome guy who’s clearly into you isn’t real? Great strategy"

Natalie was a bit more direct. “You’re doing that thing again—acting like you’re not interested when we both know you’ve been thinking about him.”

I shot her a half-hearted glare but couldn’t hold back the smile tugging at my lips. They weren’t wrong, as much as I hated to admit it. “He makes me nervous"

“Sweet pea,” Lacey said, sidling up beside me and throwing an arm over my shoulder, “it’s okay to be nervous but trust me. The next time you see Benny, you’ll be fine. Just don’t run away like you did last time.”

Our conversation faded as we walked aound the park. Hopping around as we enjoyed the summer sun and the activities the festival offered. The park was alive with excitement—bright lights strung up along the trees, the sound of a live band playing upbeat tunes, and the sweet smell of cotton candy and caramel wafting through the air. The whole scene felt like something out of a postcard, the kind of night where you could forget about everything else and just get lost in the moment. Lacey and Natalie had wandered off to check out one of the game booths, and I had strayed from them, my eye on the cotton candy stand at the edge of the festival.

My stomach growling at the sight of the pink, fluffy treat. The line had dwindled, and as I stepped up, I fumbled around in my purse for some change. Of course, everything but money seemed to surface—lipstick, an old movie ticket, gum wrappers. I sighed in frustration, digging deeper as the vendor waited patiently. The music from the band drifted through the warm night air, and I could hear people laughing and enjoying the festival behind me.

Just as I found the coins I was searching for, someone slid in beside me. The movement was so casual, like they had been standing there all along, but it caught me off guard. Their chest brushed against the back of my shoulder, and I froze as the scent of cologne, leather, and cigarettes hit me all at once. It was familiar, intoxicating in a way that sent my heart into overdrive before I even looked up.

I knew who it was before I turned my head. Benny.

Benny didn’t say anything as I looked up at him, his expression unreadable, and cool. My brows furrowed slightly, caught off guard by the sight of him in a place like this. He didn’t seem like the type to be at a festival—too rough around the edges, too… out of place in a crowd full of families and kids. I hadn’t expected a guy like him to show up somewhere so bright, so cheerful. He didn’t exactly blend into the backdrop of laughter and neon lights. He dropped coins into the vendor's hands.

My eyes flickered to the vendor, who was holding out the cotton candy I’d ordered. His hand was expectant, and I blinked, shaking myself out of my thoughts. With a quick smile, I mumbled a quiet, “Thanks,” to the vendor and grabbed the candy, stepping away as I tried to maneuver around Benny.

“Thanks for paying,” I added quietly, not daring to look up at him as I said it. My voice came out a little too soft, the words awkward and uncertain. Something about him made me feel disoriented like I couldn’t quite think straight when he was this close. I tried to draw some encouragement from Lacey's earlier words, you'll be fine, just don't run.

Without a word, Benny fell into step beside me, moving as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His hand settled gently on my lower back, a touch so casual, so familiar like it had always been there. My heart raced at the contact, a mix of confusion and nerves surging through me. Why was he even bothering? He didn’t know me—not really—but he sure acted like he did.

I could feel the warmth of his hand through the thin fabric of my dress, and it made it hard to focus on anything but the steady thrum of my pulse. I didn’t understand what he wanted—why he was even here, walking with me like we had some kind of history. It felt… strange. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to pull away.

I stopped walking, turning slightly so I could glance up at him, my heart still pounding in my chest. “Why are you here?” I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it. It wasn’t accusatory, just… curious. I couldn’t figure him out. Benny seemed like the kind of guy who belonged in smoky bars or speeding down empty highways, not standing beside me at a festival, surrounded by kids and balloons.

He looked down at me, his gaze steady, cool as ever, but he didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched out, the sounds of the festival fading into the background as we stood there, just the two of us, the world shrinking around us.

Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but tinged with amusement. “I could ask you the same thing.”

His words hung in the air, and I hesitated for a moment, the weight of his gaze making my stomach flutter. A small part of me wanted to retreat, to let the nerves win and shy away. But instead, I found myself pushing through, the edges of a playful smile tugging at my lips. You'll be fine...

“Well,” I said, my voice trying for cheeky but betraying a bit of my nerves, “I’m wondering what a big tough biker guy like you is doing at a festival. Not exactly your scene, right?”

The moment the words left my mouth, I felt a surge of both relief and anxiety. I’d said it—teasing him, pushing back a little, trying not to get lost in my nerves. But still, I couldn’t shake the rush of heat that crept up my neck, the way my heart thudded against my ribs as I waited for him to respond.

Benny’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile, and his hand, still resting lightly on my back, pressed just a bit more firmly.

“Maybe I just like cotton candy,” he said, his voice low and teasing, that playful glint in his eyes making my heart skip a beat.

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “No, try again,” I said, my nerves starting to fade as I tilted my head slightly, my eyes twinkling as I looked at him.

Benny’s smile widened, just a little, but enough to show me he was enjoying this just as much as I was. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping an octave, his breath warm against my ear as he spoke again. “No,” he repeated slowly, his eyes locked on mine. “I didn’t want you slipping through my fingers again.”

My breath hitched at his words, my heart racing, but the smile on my face didn’t falter. I bowed my head attempting to hide away from his eyes.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” Benny said, his voice low, teasing, but with an edge that made my heart flutter.

The words sent a jolt through me, my cheeks flushing a deep pink before I could even think of how to respond. I tried to play it off, brush it aside, but the warmth spreading across my face was undeniable. The familiar nervous energy surged inside me, and an embarrassed giggle slipped out before I could stop it. Instinctively, I raised a hand to cover my face, as if that would somehow hide how completely flustered I felt.

His gaze—intense, unwavering—was too much. Too close. The way his words lingered between us left my mind spinning and struggling to catch up. I let out a soft laugh, more to relieve the tension in my chest than anything, and spun on my heels, desperately trying to regain some semblance of composure.

But Benny wasn’t about to let me slip away that easily.

I heard his footsteps behind me—steady, deliberate, as if he knew there was no point in rushing. Within moments, his long strides caught up with mine effortlessly, and suddenly he was beside me again, walking in step with me like it was the most natural thing in the world. His presence was magnetic, pulling me in despite my best efforts to distance myself. The space between us felt heavy, charged with something unspoken but impossible to ignore.

“You’re runnin' away again?” he asked, amusement dancing in his voice.

I shook my head, laughing softly despite the fact that my heart was still racing in my chest. I glanced over at him, the teasing smile still lingering on my lips. “What? A tough guy like you can’t handle a good chase?” I raised an eyebrow, adjusting my grip on the cotton candy, trying to keep my voice steady despite the wild fluttering of butterflies in my stomach.

Benny’s smirk deepened, and his eyes glinted with that playful spark that always made me feel both nervous and excited at the same time. “Oh, I can handle it,” he said, his voice low, smooth, as he stepped a little closer. “But you’re not making it much of a chase.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I could feel the warmth of his body brushing against mine as we walked. Our steps fell perfectly in sync.

I laughed again, there was something so intoxicating about the way he moved beside me, the way he spoke, the way he looked at me.

“Now that you mention it,” I said, tapping my chin thoughtfully, trying to regain some control over the situation, “I think it’s about time for me to run away again. Catch me later?”

I flashed him a playful smile, my heart still pounding as I looked up at him through my lashes. It was a half-joke, half-challenge, and I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks again.

Benny’s smirk widened, his eyes darkening with something that sent my heart racing even faster. “You can try,” he murmured, his voice soft but sure, his gaze locking onto mine with that quiet intensity that made it feel like time had slowed down.

I swallowed hard, my breath catching in my throat as his words settled over me. I glanced down at the cotton candy in my hand, suddenly hyperaware of everything—the warmth radiating off him, the way our steps still moved in perfect harmony, and the fact that, deep down, I didn’t want to run. Not really.

“So what?” I stopped, turning to face him fully, standing even closer now. My heart pounded in my chest, but I didn’t pull away. “You gonna follow me around all night”

Benny stepped closer, his chest nearly brushing against mine, his gaze never wavering. His hand hovered near my arm, not quite touching, but close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him. My breath hitched as his presence filled the small space between us.

“Maybe,” he said, his voice softer now, lower, the teasing lilt fading into something more serious, more deliberate. “If that’s what it takes to keep you from running.”

"You're serious" The weight of his words dawning on me. I laughed, "Why would you waste your time following me around?"

His lips curled into that familiar smirk, but it was softer this time, more genuine. “Who says it’s a waste of time?” he replied smoothly, his voice low and calm, like he had the whole thing figured out and was just waiting for me to catch on.

My heart was pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it. The air around us had shifted, pulling us closer together, and I couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like if I leaned in just a little more if I closed the distance between us. My eyes flickered to his lips for the briefest second before I caught myself, but not quickly enough.

Benny noticed. Of course, he noticed. His smirk softened into something more real, more genuine, and his gaze held mine, steady and unwavering. My face flushed again, and I glanced down at the cotton candy in my hand, trying to gather my thoughts.

“What if I said ‘please, don’t follow me?’” I asked, tilting my head and biting my lip, hoping he’d let me off the hook. But Benny just chuckled, a low, warm sound that vibrated through me, shaking his head as if the very idea was amusing.

I laughed nervously, looking away from him and back at the carnival lights, trying to find some relief from the tension building between us. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” I muttered, shaking my head.

Benny just shrugged, effortlessly calm, like he had all the time in the world. “Maybe.”

“So what, you follow me all night,” I continued, turning back to him, still caught up in the strange, magnetic pull of this moment. “And then what? How does that end?” I asked, my voice soft, curious, but underneath, there was something else—a question I didn’t know how to fully ask.

He didn’t answer right away, silence thick with anticipation.

“Guess we’ll have to find out,” he finally said, his voice soft but firm, the promise of something more hidden in those words.

“No,” I said, my voice soft but steady, a smile curling at my lips as I shook my head. “Can we skip the whole following me around thing and just get to the point?”

For a split second, something shifted in Benny’s expression. Maybe it was surprise, or amusement, but it quickly faded into that calm, confident look he always wore. He stepped closer, and I held my breath, fighting the urge to run away.

His voice dropped, low and rough, like gravel under a boot. “Get to the point, huh?” His eyes flickered to my lips for just a beat before locking back onto mine, his gaze unwavering. “And what exactly do you think the point is, peach?”

The intensity of his stare, the unspoken implication behind his words, sent a rush through me that I wasn’t prepared for. My mind blanked, and for a second, I couldn’t think. His presence, his closeness, the way he was looking at me—it all felt like too much and not enough at the same time.

I glanced around, trying to gather my thoughts, the carnival lights blurring in my peripheral vision. My feet rocked slightly as I shifted my weight, searching for the words, for anything that wouldn’t make me seem completely out of my depth. But all I could do was feel the charge between us, my pulse racing in time with the chaos swirling in my chest.

“I don’t know,” I finally said, my voice breathy, my heart pounding harder as I looked back at him. A grin slowly spread across my lips, my pulse daring me to play along, to push back against the tension. “But I hope you can keep up.”

Before he could respond, I turned on my heel, my grin widening as I dashed into the crowd, slipping through the throngs of people. The sound of carnival games and laughter swirled around me as I moved, my adrenaline spiking with every step. I didn’t dare look back, but I could feel the heat of his gaze on me, feel the thrill of whether or not he’d follow.

A part of me hoped he would.

As I weaved through the crowd, the lights flickering overhead, I could feel my heart still pounding, a rush of excitement buzzing through my veins.

-

“YOU RAN AWAY AGAIN!” Lacey screeched, her voice echoing through the living room. I shrunk deeper into the couch, my cheeks burning as I fidgeted with my fingers, trying to suppress a giggle.

“…maybe,” I muttered, unable to keep the smile from spreading. But the memory of darting away from Benny had me both embarrassed and oddly excited.

“This is no laughing matter!” Lacey was losing it now, pacing in front of me like a storm about to break. “YOU LITERALLY HAD HIM RIGHT THERE, AND YOU RAN!”

Natalie, far less dramatic, swung her feet lazily in the air as she lay on the floor flipping through a magazine. Without even glancing up, she smirked and said, “I bet he’ll tie you down next time he sees you.”

I bit my lip, my stomach doing a flip at the thought. “That’s not... no, he wouldn’t,” I protested, but the way my pulse quickened at the idea told a different story.

Lacey stopped pacing long enough to level me with an incredulous look. “Oh, he absolutely would. After the stunt you pulled? I don’t think he’s going to let you slip away so easily next time.”

I hugged a pillow to my chest, my mind racing back to the way Benny had looked at me, the way he’d closed the space between us with just a look, how he was right there, and I still ran. “I panicked,” I mumbled, more to myself than to them.

“You panicked?” Lacey threw her hands up. “Girl, if he had looked at me like that, I’d have thanked him.”

Natalie chuckled from her spot on the floor. “I think you liked running. Adds to the chase.” She shot me a knowing look, and I sank further into the couch, burying my face in the pillow.

Maybe she was right.

Taglist: @prettybubblesintheair, @storiesfromafan, @aleemendoza2425-blog, bellesdreamyprofile (I figured you would like to blush some more 😉💕peachcobblerinmymumsbasement

[c-goldthorn]

hi! im c, used to be @goldthorn-archive but now im here :) | my main ao3: c_goldthorn, the bikeriders pseud: bennyrides | check featured tags for navigation | 18+

fandoms: mota, callum turner & austin butler

Chaptered Fics/Series

He May Be The Reason (clegan) E

(Way Down Inside) Honey You Need It (crossdavis) E

Drabbles/One Shots

Sugar Coated (Melting in Your Mouth) (clegan) E

No Proof, One Touch (clegan) sfw

I'll Alway Be In Love With You (mota drabbles)

He's Got a Ticket to Ride (the bikeriders drabbles)

WIPs

He May Be The Reason, Honey You Need It, casablanca wip, Misty Taste of Moonshine

Housekeeping + For Requests:

prompt lists i'm currently taking requests from:

go slow (smut)

touch starved

currently writing for:

mota: clegan, curtbuckbucky, margebuckbucky

the bikeriders: crossdavis (benny x johnny), benny x the vandals

MY INBOX IS ALWAYS OPEN!!

however, my blog is not a space for venting/ trauma dumping/complaining, etc. this is my fun little corner of the internet and pls let's keep the vibes good <3

and thank u @johnslittlespoon for making the gif at the top for me ily <3

[nerdy-novelist017]

Ponytails and Promises (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader pt 5)

I'm sorry it's taken such a long time to get this posted ☹️ I've been dealing with a few health problems lately and it's made it hard to be creative. I'm not super proud of this but I hope you enjoy it regardless. As always, I'm so grateful for all of you wonderful readers! 🫶

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 3.1k+

Summary- Time spent apart has both Benny and yourself wondering what the other is thinking.

******

For the tenth time in a row, you rehearsed what you were going to say as you peddled your bicycle down the street, the morning sun shining through the trees above. You’d been up all night, a ball of nerves working its way through your tummy in preparation of today’s meeting. The diner was busy when you approached, cars and even a few motorcycles parked out front. You hopped off your bike, swallowing thickly as you propped it in the bicycle rack. You tried to spot his motorcycle but quickly scolded yourself for even remembering the particular design of his. Thankfully, you didn’t see it in the lineup. You smoothed out your ponytail and checked your romper for any signs of creasing that he might not like. Satisfied with your appearance, you pushed the front door open and scanned the inside. 

He sat at a booth on the far side and you swallowed your nerves and did a quick assessment of him as you neared. He didn’t look to be physically injured and you breathed a sigh of relief. He looked up when you stood before him and flashed you a quick, fleeting smile. As he said your name and it almost sounded unfamiliar to you. 

“Hi, Pete,” you smiled as you waited for him to stand to greet you. 

He nodded, motioning for you to sit and you tried not to appear dispirited as you slid into the opposite booth. There was a Coca-Cola bottle in front of him and you noticed that he’d ordered you water. You had to remind yourself that he didn’t know you very well yet and that he probably didn’t recall you preferred coke too. 

“You look very nice,” you said, attempting to cut through the awkwardness between you. 

He nodded again, murmuring a thanks.

Okay, better to get straight to your rehearsed lines, you supposed. “Thank you for meetin’ with me. A–and I owe you an apology. Pete, I had no idea he was going to do that.”

“Who was he?” Pete asked directly, cutting your speech short.

You put your hands out of the table in front of you, playing with the straw wrapper as you spoke, “He’s just some guy, a biker–”

“Yeah, I got that. I mean how do you know him?” 

“He . . . was somebody I met when I was out with Kathy. Met him at a picnic,” you explained carefully as your gaze searched Pete’s eyes behind his glasses. “Remember, the one I told you about?”

“She’s becoming a bit of a wild thing, huh?” he asked and you could sense that it wasn’t really a question. There was a blatant statement hanging in his tight voice. 

“She’s always been like that, I think,” you replied, trying to smother the defensive tone in your voice. “And I was only there for a short time, but I guess he took a liking to me.”

Pete hummed, glanced out the window for a moment so you continued, “Anyway, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for what he did. You’re a really good person and you don’t deserve that.” You considered reaching across the table to touch his hand, but he leaned back in his seat before you could. “And. . . I was excited about our date.”

“Do your parents know about where you went? About him?” He seemed not to hear your last statement. 

“No,” you admitted, brow furrowing. In fact, you haven’t told anyone about your date with Benny. Not even Kathy. You just came straight home and went up to bed where you laid awake for hours, mind reeling through every conversation the two of you shared, every word he spoke. 

“They’d never approve of that,” he pointed out as he looked back at you. 

“Well, they’re never going to find out because I don’t plan on seeing him again,” you stated, looking down at the condensation building on the outside of your untouched water glass. 

“Good.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “You don’t belong with a group like that, anyway.”

It was strange hearing that from Pete. It was the same affirmation you had told yourself over and over again last night, but hearing him tell you that, as if you didn’t have a choice in the matter, left a bad taste in your mouth. All you could say was, “Yeah. . .”

You wanted to ask exactly what Benny had said to him, but before you could, Pete leaned forward, seeming to be in better spirits and said, “Dolls like you belong on a shelf where they can be admired and not broken.”

His words, at face value, were sweet, kind, but you couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling that toyed in the back of your mind. Pete was the safe choice, you had to remind yourself. Pete was everything you had wanted for your future-husband, for your life. He wanted you to be exactly who you were raised to be. You could be a quiet doll whose whole existence was to sit on a shelf and look pretty. 

You nodded, leaning forward to take a sip of your water as an excuse to not speak. 

“I’m glad we worked through this,” he said as he waved down the waitress to order. 

“Me too,” you said quietly as he ordered for you. And you meant it, you did. But something felt different with him now. There was a shift that seemed to occur and you weren’t sure what it was or if it would ever resolve. Pete didn’t seem to notice as he prattled on about his upcoming golf tournament, falling into a one-sided conversation that he was comfortable with. 

As you absentmindedly picked at your plate of breakfast, you wondered —just briefly— if Benny was eating breakfast right now and if he was, what was on his plate? 

When there was a lapse in silence, you looked up at Pete, suddenly asking, “Are you still planning on coming to the charity picnic with me today?”

His brows pinched together. “What charity picnic?”

“The one I told you about last week? It’s for the children of Chicago fund. Our church is hosting the cookout, remember?” You asked, specifically recalling having this conversation with him on your first date. But you gave him the benefit of the doubt; maybe he had been trying to process a lot of new information about you and this slipped his mind. 

“Oh, right.” He adjusted the glasses on his nose. “I’ll have to check my schedule, make sure I don’t have anything else going on today.”

“Okay,” you nodded. He confirmed that he could go with you a week ago already. You slid out from the booth, grabbing your purse. “Well, I’ll maybe see you there then?”

He followed you, standing to his feet also. “Yeah.”

You made your way outside and he touched your arm before you could reach your bike. You were afraid that maybe he wanted to kiss you as he leaned forward but he only put his arms around you in a friendly hug instead. 

“Bye, (Y/N),” he said as he broke free, turning and going back to his car. 

“Goodbye, Pete.” 

******

Benny lifted the glass to his lips, downing the rest of his drink. The scent of cigarette smoke and motor oil hung heavy in Cal’s garage where he, Johnny, Wahoo and Corky sat around as Cal worked on Corky’s bike. Benny’s eyes burned as he rubbed his face tiredly. He hadn’t slept well last night – worse than the few hours a night he usually got. His mind was too busy, filled with thoughts of you. Of the way your hair cascaded over your shoulder, of the way your dimples show when you smiled brightly. Of the way you looked so damn beautiful even when you were angry. And you were angry at him of all people which admittedly, he still didn't quite understand why. You were upset that he overstepped, sure. He got that. But when it came to a man like Pete? Benny could take one look at that man and see the strained facade he wore like a mask. Benny’s always been good at reading people, at seeing past the guise. And Pete was no good. 

“What do you think, Benny?” someone had asked, drawing him back to reality. 

“‘Bout what?” he asked, looking up at the faces around the garage.

“About the radiator hose,” Cal informed as he motioned to the stripped down bike and Benny honestly didn’t hear what was even wrong with it in the first place. 

“Probably no good,” he replied with a shrug as he dug out his pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket.

As if Johnny sensed Benny’s more than usual reserve, he asked. “Hey, how’d the date go with Bunny last night?”

Benny glanced up at him. “Went good except I think she’s pissed at me.”

Cal laughed. “How could you consider that good then?”

Benny shot him a narrowed look. “We had a misunderstanding.”

“Are ya sure she’s mad?” Wahoo spoke up from the other side of the motorcycle. “When my old lady is horny, she just acts like she’s mad so I spank her and that really gets her going.” 

Benny sighed. “No, she’s mad.”

“Why? What’d you do?” Johnny inquired. 

Benny wanted to argue in his own defense but shrugged. “She’s upset that I had to run off her date.”

“She had a date?” 

“Mh-hm, church-going fellow.” Benny lit his cigarette, taking a long drag of it before continuing, “Caught him before she knew he was there.”

“Did ya kill him or somethin’?” Corky’s eyes widened. 

“Nah, just had a talk with him,” Benny clarified as he stood from his lawn chair, moving to look out the bay door. “He was late to their date anyway and . . . I just wanted to have a talk with him, see what kind of man he was. And I didn’t like what I saw.” He was one of those men who pretended to be something he’s not, who perfected the craft of lying to people – especially women. And Benny didn’t have any respect for liars.

“Okay, what’d you say to him then?” Johnny wondered.

“Just said ‘Are you willin’ to die for her?’ and he said yeah and then I asked if he was willin’ to kill for her because I was.” Benny recalled the twinge of fear in those eyes as he took a long drag of his cig. “And I think he got the message pretty loud and clear after that.”

Johnny and Cal shared a pointed look as a weighted silence followed Benny’s statement. 

“Jesus, kid,” Wahoo murmured. “This girl’s really got you whipped.”

Benny really didn’t want to have this conversation with an audience. He came here in search of Johnny to seek out his advice, but now that he’d confessed to the group, he felt somewhat . . . smaller. He’d never been one to struggle with his confidence, to care what others thought of him. But the idea that you were upset with him, that maybe you didn’t want him anymore, that maybe he’d ruined his luck with you before he’d even had a taste, well, that just struck Benny deep in his chest. It made his fist clench tightly at his side, made his heart beat a little faster.

Suddenly, Johnny was beside him, hand clapping his shoulder in a friendly manner. “Well, if that’s what made ‘em run away, then it sounds like he was no good anyway.”

Benny remained silent, picturing the sight of you walking away from him last night, choosing to walk home in the dark rather than let him drive you back. 

“So, she’s mad at you for that?”

Benny nodded. 

Johnny shrugged. “Let me tell ya a little somethin’ about women; they may be the same species as us but they ain’t the same creature. They don’t think like you and I. When we see somethin’ that needs said or done, we just do it. But they’re more . . . compassionate, empathetic. She probably feels bad for that poor asshole. Probably just wants ya to apologize to him.”

Benny wanted to roll his eyes. He knew all of this. He wasn’t an idiot. “Well, I told her I wasn’t apologizing for it.”

Groaning sounded behind him and Benny clenched his jaw defensively. “I’m not. I can’t apologize for somethin’ I don’t feel sorry for. I don’t regret runnin’ him off and I'd do it again if I have to.” Though if he needed to do it again, he’d probably not openly tell you again. 

“Then you’re goin’ to have to find another way to get back into her good graces, kid.” Johnny shook his head and Benny thought he saw a hint of a smile in his face as he turned away. "You'll think of somethin'."

******

You’d changed your clothes three times before you gave up and just decided to wear the same thing you’d worn to your breakfast date with Pete. Could it be classified as a date? You weren’t even sure where you stood with him now. He seemed to fall back into his usual demeanor, but that was always so closed-off anyway. But so was your father, you supposed. You could see that in the way he’d sit at the head of the table, face hidden behind his newspaper. It was obvious in the way your mother repeated herself over and over again in an attempt to be heard. It was apparent when he was absent during all your years of school accomplishments. That was the normal. It seemed unfair to expect Pete to be any different.

So you went downstairs, packed up your cake (one you had made special for the charity) in the cooler and hopped on your bicycle. The ride to the church wasn’t far but it gave you more time to consider Pete as you waved to neighbors you passed. Though you actively tried to avoid it, you mind drifted to thoughts of Benny. Was he the type of person to wave to neighbors? What kind of neighborhood did he even live in?

By the time you showed up to the church, the event was in full swing. You parked your bike in the rack and carried your cooler through the tents and booths set up, smiling at friends as you went. You found the pastor's wife who directed you to the bake sale booth where there were a couple other girls already setting up. 

“What’ve you got there?” one of the older women asked as you approached, setting your cooler down on the table. 

“A cake.” you grinned as you pulled out the cake, setting it on the display. You had gotten up extra early today to get started on the desert, knowing the congregation was counting on you to supply the design. The inspiration for the design – admittedly taken from a certain biker who you would not be thinking about anymore – was a a field of brightly colored flowers surrounding the base with a family of tiny bunnies to decorate the top. You were pretty proud of it and to hear the ooo’s and ahh’s of the ladies surrounding you boosted your confidence. They set out a donation jar in front of your display and people began to filter by your booth to admire the goods and to grab a free brownie made by one of the other girls at the table. As the event went on and the sun shifted overhead, you thanked the donors and smiled for pictures, all the while your eyes scanned the crowd, hoping to find Pete close by. 

When there was a pause in the flow of foot traffic, you took the time to crouch below the table to replenish the paper plates when a deep, familiar voice broke through your concentration. 

“Got anymore of your famous cookies?” 

You looked up, gaze locking with the ocean blue eyes of none other than Benny Cross.

You gasped and stood up so quickly you nearly knocked your head on the corner of the table. He was staring unabashedly at you, even being so bold as to roam his eyes down your figure and you suddenly wished you had changed into something a little more formal. Ironic, you thought, considering Benny was anything but formal.

His gaze moved from you down to the cake on the table and his brows raised. “You make this, Little Bunny?”

You swallowed, ignoring the rush of butterflies at the nickname. “Mh-hm.”

He bent down to inspect it closer, hands pressing to his knees and you can’t look away. You couldn’t look away from the cerulean gaze beneath a wall of lashes. You couldn’t look away from the slope of his nose nor the quirk of his mouth as he hummed a sound that came deep in his throat. And no, you couldn’t look away as your gaze traveled down his signature denim jacket to the exposed tanned skin of his arms, the muscle tone enough to make your eyes widen. You certainly didn’t want to look away from his hands over his knee as a flash of heat filled your core at the thought of his hands encasing your own knee.

Benny’s eyes flashed back up to meet yours. “You’re incredible.”

You nearly melted at his words, face heating up and you had to break his intense eye contact.

He stood back to his full height. “If it tastes half as good as it looks, I think I might be in trouble.”

There he goes again with those damn double innuendos. You started to smile but then you remembered you were still mad at him, that you weren’t supposed to be happy to see him or to hear his flirty voice. “You already are in trouble, remember?”

“Oh, right.” Benny grinned sheepishly. “I still gotta do somethin’ about that, don’t I?”

You raised your brow at him as you crossed your arms trying to look more confident than you felt. “You don’t have to do anything, Benny. It’s a free country.”

He narrowed his eyes playfully. “But it’s what you want me to do, right? Apologize to ‘em?”

“No, he . . . wouldn’t like that,” you admitted, “I don’t think that’d be a very good idea to involve him anymore.”

Without missing a beat, he said, “Then I guess I’ll just have to win you over again.”

“Who said you won me over a first time?” You challenged, standing up a little straighter.

Benny just grinned, a shit-eating grin that you weren’t sure if you wanted to smack or kiss off his face. You watched as he retrieved his wallet from his back pocket. He slipped out a five dollar bill between two of his dexterous fingers and dropped it into your donations jar.

“See ya around, kid,” he said with a wink before turning and leaving you standing there wide-eyed and fighting a smile.

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