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xxanaduwrites · 4 months ago

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

honey, are you comin’?

previous part: sweet talkin’ | from the hive: session 1

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

summary: in which benny finds honey again. this time near a honeycomb, hopin’ for a taste on the road ;) (p.s.: if you were wonderin’, yes — the title of this was so inspired by måneskin)

warnings: not much of anything besides some minor talks of cruelty towards children, peeps being judgmental as hell, & smoking. they’re subtly flirting here basically. it’s cute! that’s really it. x

author’s note: oh my goodness! you have no idea how STUNNED i’ve been by all the love miss.honey!benny have been getting so far. fully was not expecting this. deadass wrote sweet talkin’ for fun. no thoughts, head empty type beat. just wanted to thank you honeys so so much. i can’t thank ya enough i fear! i literally still can’t wrap my head around this, but i love you all sm & can’t wait to share more with you! 🍯🐝🫶

word count: 2.7k

💌 requests are open, send ‘em honey 💋

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Another unbearable wave of heat managed to remain the very next day. Your students squirming against their metal chairs, antsy as ever for a reprieve. And so were you too. Thankfully, it just so happened to be your turn as fellow recess monitor with one or your fellow co-workers, Miss. Margie. Marge just so happened to be a newly breaded fresh faced teacher just like yourself. You enjoyed her company, more so than the older teachers who were rather cruel to the students. Especially when they did something wrong. Marge wasn’t cruel so to speak but she was a tough cookie, putting her foot down when needed. You two as a duo were rather perfect for the school grounds. You as the comfort go to when a knee was scraped, and Marge as the tough love go to when a particular student needed a stern talking to.

You worked well together, and it showed. Your relief was rather prominent when you stepped out the back door near the playground. An immediate swarm of giggles and chatter from small voices buzzed about, and you couldn’t help but smile as you adjusted your eyes to the sun, protected under your heart shaped sunnies. It didn’t take you long to find Marge who was already planted near the monkey bars with her arms crossed over her chest like a drill sergeant. Considering her father’s status as a war vet, by no means was it shocking to you or anyone else for that matter to see her in such a state.

“Hi Margie,” you greeted her once materialized next to her. “How’s it goin’?”

Margie's clear concentration dropped at the sound of your voice. “Oh no wonder,” she commented without looking at you. Her brows shot up in genuine intrigue.

Your honey coated lips parted in confusion instantly. “Huh?”

“Your three o’clock, Hun.” Margie tilted her head to the right subtly, directing you to her line of sight. A sight that made your heart curl into itself in a warm beat. Right behind those chain-linked fences that kept the kids contained was Uncle Benny. Yet, today his status as Uncle appeared to be rather amiss. Instead of Johnny’s car flanked near the curb, he was leaning against a neat Harley Davidson. The same one you saw him on that mornin’. You figured he was dropping off the girls or somethin’, but your curiosity got the better of you when you saw Mrs. Davis with them instead.

Now in the no parking zone, he stood out like the sorrest of thumbs. Practically a puzzle piece thrown into the wrong box. With no thoughts behind those pretty blue eyes of his besides you.

“That biker of yours stood up like a torpedo as soon as you walked out,” your co-worker added.

You took a moment to adjust your glasses, moving them to the tip of your nose to get a better look. Sure as shit, you weren’t having a heat stroke. It was really him. He was still here. Had he been out here since the mornin’ or left to come back? And if he was here for you like Margie said — why? You were certain he wasn’t much of a fan of you the day prior.

“He’s — He’s not my biker,” you mangled out, words twisting off your tongue as butterflies danced around your tummy.

Margie snorted. “I hate to break it to you, Hun. Lookin’ like he is now.” She paused a moment, shifting her footing as she spotted a youngin’ running roughly across the pavement, almost banging into another student. “Hey — watch where you’re goin’. Don’t push it Mikey!” She reprimanded before fixing herself upright and asking you, “What was all that about yesterday anyways?”

“What y’mean?” You questioned, not quite sure what she was going on about.

“You know — lettin’ the Davis girls go with ‘em. Caused a bit of an upheaval with the parents apparently. Heard all about it in the break room this mornin’. Doesn’t sound like Principal Rubs is real happy about it either.”

Your ears couldn’t believe what you were hearing. What business did the parents have putting their two cents in about somebody else’s family members? As for Principal Rubin, well, she was Principal Rubin after all. There wasn’t much to it there. The damn woman was a stickler with the sprinklers yesterday after all. Never a ball of fun as far as you were concerned.

“Why wouldn't I?” You challenged, becoming rather defensive.

“The guy pulled up like a maniac all greasy and shit. Almost gave everyone a heart attack,” Margie reasoned, her features churning in disgust.

You knew if he was some clean cut military guy in full uniform, she wouldn’t have made a comment at all, which kind-of pissed you off. Sure his clothes were lookin’ as if they hadn’t seen a washing machine in a cycle of days, but hey — what did that have to do with character? There were plenty of people who gave this outward canvas of perfectionism, far off from who they truly were deep down inside. You knew that, and you saw it every single day within the cruel clusters of your modern society. You saw it in the faces of your Ma and Pa when you didn’t fit the supposed mold they were trying to conform you to.

“So? He’s their Uncle, Marge,” you countered, defenses climbing high. “Did you ever think that maybe the man was runnin’ late? Worryin’ about the girls. That’s why he was speedin’.”

Margie sighed. “Not with that Vandals shit on his vest, but whatever you wanna believe, Hun.”

It went quiet between you two then. A clear indication that this conversation wasn’t gonna get the two of you anywhere.

“I should go talk to him,” you announced, snapping the awkward silence in half. There was no denying that you were now suddenly eager to find out what all this was about.

“Yuh should. If you don’t I will, and I doubt that will end well,” she joked, her eyes sparkling in amusement. Oh and she was right about that. Knowing Margie, you knew the idea of her approaching Benny would formulate a recipe for disaster.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the mental image of such a scene. But also — you were utterly glad for this newfound banter popped open from a bottle of tension. “Alright Colonel, I’ll be back,” you quipped, before heading across the playground.

You could feel his eyes burning across your form on your journey to the edge of the property, your tummy flipping again in a bit of nerves and excitement. A part of you felt somewhat disappointed when you found yourself coming to a halt — stuck behind the monstrous fence that separated you from him, while another was glad for some security. You weren’t quite sure what his motive was, but knew it couldn’t be anything bad. He was just sitting here, smoking and minding his own business. Well — minding you.

“The girls don’t get out of school for another few hours, y’know,” you said matter-of-factly, eyeing him through the grates of the fence that reminded you far too much of a honeycomb.

He didn’t say much of anything, just raised a brow as you as he took one last drag of his cigarette. You watched as he put it out against the pavement, amongst a garden of other buds with his boot. Your suspicions were coming into fusion then, the realization that he’d been planted here for as long as your delusions imagined.

What could he possibly want from an innocent elementary school teacher like you?

He reached for that packet of Marlboros in his vest pocket all over again, clearly on a chain smoking spree. “Y’want?” He asked, stopping in his tracks. Those lean fingers of his calloused to the bone holding out a fresh cigarette in your direction. A cigarette that he’d been saving for you just in case.

You looked around for a moment, not quite sure what to do. The coast seemed to be clear though. Margie looked busy with some of the kids. Had a cluster of ‘em around her with her finger wagging about in every which direction. With her eyes no longer trained on Benny and you, and your form more than halfway across the school yard, you figured it wouldn’t hurt. Besides, you were having a day and could really use a cigarette. “Sure.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

Benny re-adjusted his stance, shoulders straight as he sauntered the sidewalk to meet you against the fence. His rough knuckles brushed across your polished ballet slipper fingers as he passed you the cigarette though the honeycomb, a sweetness shooting up your arm in an instance. You left it sticking out for a moment so he could light it up for you, and you could feel his hot breath fanning against your face. The casual interaction felt rather intimate in the moment, and you were more than happy when you got to take a step back on your first drag.

“Thanks,” you voiced your appreciation as he popped a fresh cig against his lips, now lighting up his own. You couldn’t help but notice that he had a sweet little freckle etched into his bottom lip. No wonder he had beautiful lips, you thought.

Surely, they’d be sweet to the kiss.

Jutting your hip out, you tapped your foot against the dry grass in impatience. “You stalkin’ me or somethin’?” You ripped off the bandage then, getting right into the real stuff. It was too hot out to sugarcoat anything any longer. Plus, the more you stood here the more Marg would get curious, and you’d be caught slacking on the job.

His lip curled up to the side naturally, just like it had yesterday when you introduced yourself to him. “Ain’t a stalker,” he confirmed, re-pocketing his lighter.

You found his candid response refreshing’. Naturally a honey rumblin’ laugh tumbled out of you “Good to ‘ear. My co-worker y’see ‘round over there?” Flicking the residue on the end of your cigarette out of the way, you pointed at her simultaneously. “She thinks ya are. Doesn’t appreciate the loitering.”

He shook his head then, long pretty eyelashes fanning his lower lids as he puckered his lips against the cig. His eyes squinted across the campus for only a second until his gaze landed right back on you. You in another denim overall number with a whole new canvas of embroidered fun. This time, knowing that you were gonna be out in the yard come afternoon, you opted on a classic jean overall. There was always the possibility of having to kneel on the grassy ground or near the sand pit, having to scoop up a youngin’ that refused to leave the playground. You learned your lesson rather quickly within your first few months of teaching. Tripping over yourself in such a situation left a tear in your favorite skirt. A skirt you still frowned about every time you found a certain piece in your closet that would make the perfect pair.

Funnily enough, if Benny knew of such a thing he would’ve made sure the same exact piece of clothing was at your doorstep and back in your closet before the thought crossed your sweet little mind.

But you didn’t know that. Not yet, that is.

And Benny — well Benny wasn’t payin’ as much attention as he would’ve liked to what you were sayin’, and he wasn’t quite interested in Margie anyways. His interests lied with you, and in his defense, the sight of you in your heart shaped sunnies wasn't helping the cause one bit. It was hard to take you seriously when you looked that stinkin’ cute. Made him wanna put you in his jacket pocket for safe keeping. And hell was he itching to just drive his bike right through the fuckin’ fence to break the barrier between you two. He was still beatin’ himself up for not taking your hand when you offered it to him yesterday. Hence why he was here, stakin’ you out. Hoping to fix his mistake.

Because the last thing he ever wanted to do was fuck this up with you.

Instead of enertainin’ your comment or makin’ a move to leave upon your far from subtle hints, far from linear to your own wishes, he changed the topic completely. “What time y’get outta ‘ere?”

You took a long drag of your cigarette, to calm your anxieties. The smoke circled ‘round your face for a moment before it traveled across the fence, reachin’ for Benny. Ironically, it was as if the smoke mirrored your desires of clinging onto the man in front of you. “‘round the same time as the girls, a little after,” you replied, curiosity adding, “what’s it to ya?”

“Wanna go for a ride?” He inquired casually. As if he was just stoppin’ by and hadn’t been sitting here for a good three quarters of the school day waitin’ for you.

The simple question spilling from those pretty lips of his made you melt in an instant. If it wasn’t for the obvious heat as a buffer to such a state, your mind would’ve found him as the culprit. “Where?”

“‘round.” He shrugged, not offering much of a plan. His casual demeanor remained concrete to his form.

An innocent smirk stretched across your face, blooming the apples of your cheeks and creasing the plane of your forehead. Now you were the one to flex amusement against a cylinder wedged between honey glossed lips. Now Benny was the one to be somewhat grateful for the honeycomb — if you will. Cause if the fence wasn’t there, he knew he wouldn’t be able to contain himself. He’d have your honey gloss all over his lips, tasting your sweetness without a second thought. Without caring about Margie or the students on the playground. Without caring about anyone really, but you.

Always you.

Perhaps anyone else would be rather suspicious of a plan with really no plan at all. Sure Margie would need a bulleted itinerary on fresh stationary, color coated and attached to a clipboard respectfully. But you — no, you appreciated his carefree mentality. It was peaceful in comparison to the stressing atmosphere that surround you on a daily basis, dotting on the kiddos in your classes, worryin’ constantly about ‘em.

Two could play this game, you thought.

Just at the end of your cigarette, your pretty fingers reached between a ring in the honeycomb, motioning it back to him. “Would ya put this out f’me?” You asked sweetly, mascara coated lashes batting about behind those obvious heart eyes of yours. “Don’t want the kids to find it in the grass.”

“Mhm,” Benny hummed, finding your concern for this children too fuckin’ cute. How could he ever say no to a sweet thang like you? He just couldn’t.

Your fingers grazed his as he took it from you, a touch that you found yourself thanking your faith for allowing you to bask in again.

This time he not only put out his cigarette, but yours too in the garden of buds that would blossom into a metaphor. A metaphor that had you joining his crew. Becoming a part of the club, joining his family, and fulfilling your wifely duties of planting a seed or two more along the way. Growin’ Benny some baby honeys of your very own.

Your lack of a reply to his offer didn’t sway him by any means, only fueled his fire tenfold. Turning on his heel then, you couldn’t help but frown, thinkin’ your hesitance turned him impatient and over the prospect completely. Especially when you watched him mount his bike and rev the engine, ready to ride away without another word. But Benny — no he still had somethin’ to say, and he was gonna say it alright. “I’ll see ya out front after school, Honey.” He decided, “I’ll be waitin’.”

The sound of your nickname rolling off his tongue — as smooth as honey sliding down your throat in a soothing tea — was all you needed to make your decision.

With your fun little backpack — straps resting against your shoulders — absolutely decked out in pins and keychains alike, you’d spot him at dismissal, and he’d be waitin’. Waitin’ for you to come. Wonderin’ if you were comin’.

Askin’ himself ‘Honey, are you comin’?’

Of course you would. You always would with Benny, no matter what.

And when you mounted his bike, your body molding into his like you were made for him, and your hands wrapping around his waist, Benny’s mistake proved to be no more. Suddenly, everything felt right in the world.

Right because you were one step closer to being his honey.

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hi-ya, i hope you enjoyed part 2! there’s so much more to come. expect a from the hive 🎙️🐝 installment real soon :)

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

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

smoochies. all da love xanadu 💋

da bee hive 🐝

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@bellesdreamyprofile

@superemobitch

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@astrogrande

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#miss honey x benny cross #benny cross x reader #the bikeriders fanfiction #benny cross #johnny davis #the bikeriders #austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #tom hardy #residue da series #johnny the bikeriders #benny the bikeriders #da bee hive 🐝#from the hive 🎙️🐝

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mermianar · 9 months ago

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they're so ghibli

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iris-draws · 5 months ago

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"Pride month is over stop posting Pride art" NO PRIDE MONTH FOREVER RAHHHH🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

Since Vivzies Pride post I am so happy Loona is bi, I've hc that for her for so long but everyone was saying she was straight- BUT GUESS WHOS LAUGHING NOW BITCHHESSS anyways they're Canon in my brain PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE VIVZIE GIVE ME A THROUPLE TO OBSESS OVER😭😭🙏🙏🙏

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bigtreefest · 6 months ago

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Chapter 8b: Last Night

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: It’s Bucky’s last night on your farm

Word count: 2,645

Content/warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY, SMUT, p in v protected sex, crying during sex (well technically after), dry humping, vaginal fingering, sweet soft intimacy, kissing

Author’s Note: This could probably be read as a stand-alone, but I’ll catch you up in case you feel confused. Bucky made a business deal to work on your farm for a month. This is the last afternoon/night of that after spending all that time side-by-side. If you’re interested in the series, you can catch up with the link below or check out the rest of the Outta Nowhere AU

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

< Prev | Series Masterlist | Next >

On the final Saturday that Bucky was at the farm, the two of you practically stayed pressed together. It’s not as if you were unproductive, but you were glued at the hip, never leaving the office for too long without the other under the guise of tying up loose business ends before his departure. You knew once he was gone, he’d have to take all his burdens back off Steve, leaving him swamped with work, unable to pay you any more attention than he did his other associates.

With your efficiency and his inability to say no to you, all ‘work’ had been completed before noon. Sure, you could’ve dragged it out, but then you wouldn’t have had time to just enjoy each other’s presence like you had gotten used to. Before that could happen, though, you presented him with one last task.

Bucky sat on your oversized desk chair with you in between his legs. His chin was tucked over your shoulder as he rubbed up and down your thigh with his ringed hand. The cool metal gave you goosebumps on your bare skin, the nice weather allowing you to wear shorts and the lack of physical labor giving Bucky the opportunity to don his jewelry once again. You ignored the way your body shuddered at his touch, instead looking back at him over your shoulder with a smirk.

“Okay, cowboy. I think we’ve got your first few months of shipments all planned, so now onto my last order of business.”

He cocked his head to look at you with an amused, but tentative smile. “And what might that be?”

“Pull out a pen.” You stood up and shuffled the papers on your desk, looking for a blank one and setting it in front of him. You took a seat on the other side, not missing his slight pout and confusion as to why you moved so far and what was going on.

“Now that we’ve reached the end of the month, I want to assess what you’ve learned. I’m gonna shoot questions at you, and you write your answer so we can determine whether or not you actually took in information or just followed me around and mooched off my free meals.”

Bucky laughed when you shot him a wink and happily obliged you, a sparkle in his eyes, admiring the way you were demanding something of him with a sweet smile on your face, just like the first time you met. He gave a slight nod, pen at the ready. “Alright, sweet Honeybee. Hit me with it.”

You crossed your arms and legs, watching him as you rattled everything off you could think of, from super obvious things, like which animal lays eggs, to asking nearly impossible things, like the brand of feed given to the dairy cows. Bucky’s reactions to each question were a treat, some causing him to light up with knowledge, others making him roll his eyes at your specificity.

“Last question. This one’s worth a thousand points. Write something you think will impress me. Something out of the blue, whatever’s on your mind. Anything at all.”

Bucky sat there for a moment, tapping the cap of the pen against his bottom lip in thought. You watched his playful features morph into something serious, something soft, as he scribbled one line at the bottom of the paper.

‘I wish I could stay here longer.’

You leaned forward so could read his paper upside down, scanning the answers, each one surprisingly correct. Not a single one was off and he even put more information than you’d asked for on some of them. You were not only amazed with the way he indulged your ridiculous request, but with how this whole time, he had actually been listening and watching, holding onto every word and fulfilling his side of the deal.

As you looked up from the paper and into his eyes, you could feel the warmth through his gaze even that far apart. You stood up again and Bucky did the same, coming around to meet you. It was as if your bodies were magnetic, drawing you towards each other until his one hand was on your cheek, the other wrapped around your waist as yours perched on his hips.

His eyes shifted between yours and he closed his eyes, drawing his forehead against yours before he spoke against your lips. “I’m serious. I love every moment with you. And I’m sorry it’ll have to end.”

You swallowed and let your eyes flutter closed as you leaned into his touch and nodded. “I know. But I get that you have work to do and it was already a lot for me to request you being here for so long. But just…for right now, be with me. Enjoy what little time is left of this with me. Please.” It came out as a whisper, a plea for him to remain present while he still could. You opened your eyes and looked up through your lashes to see him searching for your gaze.

He whispered back, “You don’t have to ask me twice. Say the word and it’s yours. I’m yours. And I’ll be right there if you ever need anything. Whatever you want, Honey. And right now, I’m here with you. I only want to be… with you.”

Your eyes closed again and you nestled into his chest in satisfaction at the depth of his words. You knew he was saying he would be present, but it meant so much more. For him to make a promise like that, extending beyond just business, made you feel supported, protected, embraced.

He pulled you closer if that was even possible and pressed his lips to your hairline, then using his hand against your cheek, he pulled your head so you were both leaning back enough that your gazes met before he smashed his lips against yours. It was with purpose and a new sort of urgency that you hadn’t really experienced in the slower kisses and pecks you had shared. You began to walk backwards and Bucky followed, lips attached to yours in a near-lock as your tongues danced, not unlike your feet, performing similarly to the two-step you had taught him weeks before. Your hands slid up a down his chest and began to pop open the buttons of his flannel shirt as his ran under yours, feeling the softness of your belly and tracing upwards, raising the hem of your shirt as his callused fingertips sent a thrill through you.

The two of you removed your clothing piece by piece, discarding them carelessly as you crossed through the living room and waltzed carefully up the steps, grateful Peter was out of the house for the day and helping Curtis with the weekend chores.

Clad only in underwear, you grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him towards your room, falling down on the bed as he crawled over you. His lips met yours once again as you widened your legs, allowing his hips to grind on your core. Your gasp at the sensation allowed Bucky’s tongue to explore your mouth, swallowing down each other’s moans and drawing closer and closer. Bucky pulled away for a second to catch his breath, the both of you looking deeply into the other’s eyes and panting.

His fingers traced down your side to play with the hem of your cotton panties, and you nodded, wordlessly giving him the permission he needed to pull them down. Bucky groaned at the sight of the damp fabric as he dragged the material down your legs, kissing back up your body and stoping to lovingly lick and nip at your neck as you whined and writhed for some sort of friction again.

“Jamie, please.”

He smiled and sighed at the way you begged for his touch, not used to being the one in control of anything since he’d been here, and now holding your pleasure in his hands. His fingers reached down to find your clit, dipping towards your entrance first to gather your arousal before making slow, teasing circles on the sensitive button. His soft touch set your body on fire. It had been so long since you’d been this intimate with anyone, all of your focus on the farm, and the exhaustion after a long week, not to mention the hurt from Jake deterring you from the desire for a partner.

“I’m here, I’m with you, Honey. I’ve got you-give you whatever you want. Just wanna make you feel good.”

Sensing your sensitivity and deducing how long it had likely been for you, Bucky slowly slid his middle finger through your slit, his eyes never leaving your face. He didn’t want to miss a single second of the way you nearly crumbled under his touch. Your eyes were half-lidded in pleasure as your body lurched forward at his slow, gentle intrusion, accompanied by a moan. He drank in the view, more gorgeous than he imagined you could be, back bowing at his touch. Bucky added another finger and the sensation of the cool metal against the heat between your legs was almost too much to handle.

Your legs began to shake as he slowly coaxed in a third finger, his thumb gently strumming your clit, deft fingers stretching your entrance. The feeling was overwhelming and pushing you impossibly close to an edge you hadn’t experienced in years at the hands of another.

“Jamie, Jamie it’s so much. So good. I’m so close.” It came out between hiccuping gasps as you tucked your face into his neck, throwing your arms around his muscular back and legs around his waist, pinning his hand between your bodies. You were clinging to him with your whole being as you reached your peak with a keen, pussy clenching his fingers almost painfully, but Bucky didn’t mind. He would’ve let you break his arm to see and feel the way he was wringing pleasure from the distant corners of your body right now. He continued to slowly pump his fingers against your walls, bringing you down from your high.

You would’ve collapsed onto the bed if Bucky hadn’t had a firm arm behind you, holding you to his chest where you had curled into him, as you gasped for air. You were finally able to pull your face away and look into his eyes again, his burning with desire and yours hazy with post-orgasmic bliss.

“Do you, uh, do you have a-“ Bucky’s eager nod cut you off as he pressed another sloppy kiss against your lips before slinking back off the bed and walking towards his bag in the corner of the room.

“I think so. Let me check.” Bucky hadn’t expected anything like this to happen over this month, so he definitely didn’t have a condom prepared. Perhaps his emergency one was still in his wallet, but he honestly wasn’t sure. He was pleasantly surprised to find it easily, rolling it on and coming back on the bed towards you.

As he hovered over you, you ran your hands along the scruff on the sides of his cheeks before pulling him down for another kiss. You could feel the weight of his hard length resting against your lower stomach, reaching down to stroke him gently. Bucky tensed at the sensation with a groan, throwing his head toward your shoulder and taking the opportunity to kiss your neck and down your collarbone before making his plea.

“Ride me, Honey. Need to feel you.”

You bit your lip nodding, complying with his request and moving to sit up as Bucky laid down against your pillows, right next to where you had just been sprawled out. You shuffled on your knees to straddle his hips, grinding down and letting his cock run through your folds, slick in preparation for him. You reached a hand down to perch his tip at your entrance, basking in the groan he let out at the sight. You slowly lowered yourself, the broad tip pushing your walls outward, pressure causing you to sharply gasp when he passed the threshold of your tight hole.

Your thigh muscles strained as you attempted to slowly but steadily lower yourself on his length, hyper aware of the delicious stretch of his thick cock inside you. The two of you sighed in relief as you bottomed out, nails gripping tightly into Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky held your hips as you adjusted to him, careful to not squeeze too hard from every time your tightness choked his dick. He fought the urge to throw his head back against the headboard, wanting to keep his eyes on you and where your bodies were connected. The sight of you splitting yourself open over him nearly made him come on the spot, but he tightened every muscle in his body again, trying to resist the urge. He only had one condom, after all, and he wanted to drag out this feeling for as long as possible.

He could see it on your face and feel your body start to relax as your nails gently scratched over his tattooed chest. You rocked your hips, testing the waters, and dragging a whine from both your lips. Your speed picked up, his hands continuing to guide you, finding a smooth rhythm that pulled moans, grunts, and gasps out of the two of you, until just like before, Bucky could feel you clenching again. He lowered his one hand, thumb finding your clit and rubbing tender circles, leading you both barreling towards a shared peak. Your hips stuttered and wavered with exhaustion, but Bucky continued guiding you with his firm, strong hand.

“C’mon Honey. You can do it. I can feel you’re close. Let go for me, sweet thing. Please. Come with me.” His voice was gruff, dripping with desire.

Your hands ran down the muscles of his torso and squeezed against his abs, nails digging in slightly. You used your last bit of energy to nod your head and urge him to help you along. Bucky planted his feet on the mattress, thrusting in tandem with the grind of your hips. You leaned down for a final kiss, wanting to be ever closer to him. As he gave into the gesture, it felt like everything hit you at once along with your shared orgasm: the sweet, tender moment, the reverence and respect he was treating you with throughout, and the fact that you didn’t know if it would ever happen again or if you’d see him after tomorrow.

Bucky came with a deep, but soft growl beneath you as he stroked your hair after you’d pulled away from his lips and tucked yourself into his neck again. He sat there, letting you cling to him for a second before he felt the unexpected wetness against his shoulder. Tears has started streaming down your face, and when Bucky caught a glimpse, his look was similar. Jaw clenched with water in his eyes.

The next morning, it was time for Bucky to go. The two of you had arranged it so you could have one last drive to the gas station together where you’d be meeting Gio.

Bucky convinced you to let him drive your truck for a final time, and you agreed, easily giving in to his request. He drove with the windows down, radio low on the dash, and one hand on the wheel. The other rested on your thigh while you clutched the arm attached to it against your chest and rested your head on his shoulder. His cheek was pressed against the top of your head. Bucky’s callused thumb made small circles on your skin as the breeze blew through the cab, paired with the warm glow of the early morning light, sun shining on your time together like it always had.

Next >

Bonus A/N: All this writing and this is the first time I’ve done smut for Bucky. I hope you enjoyed, I’d love to hear what you thought from a comment, reblog, or ask!!!

Series Taglist: @mrsnikstan @scuzmunkie @openup-yourmind @vicmc624 @hawkeyes-queen @blackhawkfanatic @morgthemagpie @buckybarnessimpp @calwitch @thesarcasmqueen-22

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luluy33art · 7 days ago

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Shadybee argument

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visualtaehyun · 5 months ago

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So I watched this roundtable discussion by GMMTV and am already bemoaning that it's unsubbed (as of yet) because it means no one on this site is talking about it djshdhsjs

youtube

"Where do Y & sapphic series stand in the LGBTQIA+ community?"

It's hosted by Pompam Niti and features: - director and producer X Nuttapong - writer/novelist Best Kittisak aka Ninepinta - screenwriter Bee Pongsate - and several GMMTV artists, i.e. Golf Kittipat, Love Pattranite, Milk Pansa, Joss Wayar, and Mark Pakin

I find the choices fascinating cause Mark has played opposite people of every gender and starred in countless QLs; Joss played bi and poly 'Neo' in 3 Will Be Free; MilkLove are the only koojin present and representing GL, with Love also being the youngest there; while P'Golf has been in the industry the longest, plus she's the only one who's trans at the table. As for the behind the scenes side, Khun X has worked on almost every GMMTV QL ever lol and ever since I translated that Twitter Space snippet where he talked about the marriage equality lines in Cherry Magic, I find his point of view really interesting; Khun Best is the only original author and thus has experience in the publishing world; and Khun Bee has written for lots of well-known BLs since 2019.

Hope it gets subbed at some point 🙏 I'm not catching some of the details, unfortunately, because P'Pompam's using too many new words for me djsjhds i was like reverse-engineering his long-ass questions based on the answers everyone gives lmao

EDIT: Here's a clip translated by Iris OG that covers the first talking point, as well as a few more translated parts by several translators on twt ✨

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starlightwoofwoof · 12 days ago

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GUYS I’VE GOT MORE HEROES FOR MY SM X MLB AU-

here’s hero Jack and John, Honey Stinger and Sheriff Slither :D

and here’s a silly thing lol

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hufflepuffwritingstuff2 · 2 months ago

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For the Good of the Hive

This story is very long so I've put it under the cut!

Another day, another beating. Hero willed themselves to go outside and face the day. A day full of fighting criminals and getting ripped apart by the news for it. Only, when they got outside, there were no criminals in sight. It was as if one of the most crime-ridden cities in the world just decided to take a break for the day.

Hero stared in confusion. They were in the most dangerous parts of town. What was going on?

“Hello Hero!” someone waved cheerfully.

“Henchman!?” Hero asked in shock.

“It’s Jerry actually,” Henchman said, “lovely morning for a walk, don’t you think?”

“Uh… yeah,” Hero said, “yeah it is.”

“Well, I’m off to visit my grandma. Toodles!”

Henchmen, Jerry, went whistling down the road. They stopped at a crosswalk and waited for the little green figure to light up before crossing. They weren’t even jaywalking!?

“Hero! Finally, we caught you!”

Hero turned, so there was a criminal still about! Hero readied an ice shard but paused when a microphone was shoved in their face.

“The mayor is in talks to give you the keys to the city,” Reporter said, “how do you feel about that?”

“That’s really- wait what?”

“Mayor is also gifting you a generous donation through the brand-new Hero fund,” Reporter said cheerfully.

“That- wow- uh- are you sure?”

Reporter laughed heartily.

“Oh of course, your reward from this city is long overdue.”

Hero blinked. There was something off about Reporter. Then it hit them, their eyes were tinted a honey-gold. In fact, so was their camera man.

“Did you… did you get new contacts?” Hero asked.

Reporter just laughed again, that same, cheery laugh that seemed way too animated to be genuine.

“That’s our Hero for you folks,” Reporter smiled, “we’ll be back at seven!”

Reporter and the cameraman left just as soon as they had shown up. Hero blinked in confusion. What the heck was going on?

…

“Hello Hero!”

“Hello, Hero!”

“Good to see you, Hero!”

Hero waved awkwardly at the pedestrians that they passed. All of them had honey-gold eyes. That’s it. They were getting to the bottom of this. They went inside a nearby ice cream shop and approached the cashier.

“Hero! Hello! What can I do for you?”

“Hi,” Hero said, “um, listen, did you feel… different waking up this morning?”

“I don’t know what you mean Hero,” the cashier said, “but since you’re here, can I interest you in today’s special flavor? It’s mint chocolate chip!”

My favorite, Hero thought.

“Are you sure? Nothing weird?”

The cashier handed Hero a cone with three scoops of ice cream.

“Nope,” they said with a cheerful smile.

Hero went to get the small bit of cash in their suit pocket.

“Ah ah, that’s on the house!” the cashier said, “have a good day, Hero! Thanks for the visit!”

…

Hero went straight to the belly of the beast.

“Commissioner!” Hero shouted, “got a question for you! You in here?”

The head of police came up to Hero, smiling broadly.

“What can I do for you, Hero?”

“Look, we both know how you feel about me, and I’m surprised you haven’t arrested me, but-”

“Arrest you?” Commissioner laughed, “oh that’s a good one, Hero.”

“…Yeah,” Hero said, “…do you know of anything strange happening last night or this morning?”

“Other than my favorite donuts being free today? Can’t say I do.”

“No major crimes? Nothing?”

“Nope. And it’s all thanks to you,” Commissioner said, beaming.

…

Hero sighed, leaving the police precinct. There was only one place left that could possibly provide an explanation…

…

“Supervillain!” Hero shouted, “get your butt in here!”

Supervillain came around the corner.

“Ah, Hero, my dear little crime-fighter, how are you today?”

“Everyone is being nice to me!” Hero huffed.

Supervillain chuckled.

“That doesn’t sound like a problem,” Supervillain said, sitting down in a plush armchair, “why come to me about it?”

Supervillain gestured to the armchair opposite them. Hero hesitantly sat down. A servant came by and offered them a cup of tea and a honey bun. Hero took it and started nibbling on the honey bun.

“Something is fishy,” Hero said, “no one is ever nice to me!”

“Well, they should be, considering all you do for them.”

Hero blinked, watching the servant hand Supervillain their own cup of tea and honey bun. They seemed so cheerful for no reason, and their eyes were honey-gold. They looked at Supervillain’s, which were noticeably blue-green.

“You did this,” Hero realized.

“Oh my little honey bee,” Supervillain chuckled, “it took you so long to find the queen, didn’t it?”

Supervillain took another sip of their tea, then stood. They crossed the room to the enormous penthouse window and gazed down at the city below.

“You have gone unappreciated for so long, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Now you finally have a colony that loves you.”

Supervillain turned to Hero.

“And a queen that’s ready to promote you,” they said.

Hero suddenly felt all the alarm bells going off in their head. They immediately stood, ice at the ready.

“You mind controlled an entire city to pretend to be nice to me!?” Hero shouted, “you do see how messed up that is, right!?”

“Oh, Hero, don’t get so upset,” Supervillain said, “they aren’t pretending. They love you! I’m just helping them show it.”

“I’m going to stop you, you know that right!?” Hero said, “I can’t let you get away with this!”

Supervillain sighed.

“I had hoped you’d accept the change gladly, but then, free will is so fickle…”

Supervillain nodded to the space behind Hero. Hero whipped around and saw two henchmen coming up right behind them. They gripped them on either side and held them fast. Supervillain came up to Hero.

“Now now, this won’t hurt,” Supervillain said, “I just need to add you to the hive.”

Supervillain snapped their fingers, and their true power emerged, swirling around Hero. Their blue eyes swirled, turning a bright honey-gold.

…

“Hello Hero!”

“Hello Jerry!” Hero waved eagerly, their arm linked with Supervillain’s.

The city was abuzz with preparations for Hero to receive the key to the city. Everyone was as busy as a bee. And Supervillain was the busiest of them all, making sure their city stayed happy and sweet as honey.

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Tags:

@mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog

@electrons2006

#mind control #supervillain #hero x villain #heroes and villains #hero x supervillain #writeblr #writing #creative writing #snippet #hero x villain community #bees #honey

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goldenseresinretriever · 4 months ago

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You Catch More Bees With Honey Masterlist

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw, blindsided by a team he trusted like family has been traded to the San Diego Dogfighters. Across the country from the place he calls home, Bradley feels lost and betrayed. Not to mention the familiar faces and ghosts from his past that he now has to face every day at work. Bradley’s caught between wanting to show his former team the mistake they made in double-crossing him and wondering if it’s time to hang up his skates after one final season. You’re living your dream as the PR representative for the Dogfighters. When Coach Maverick made a bid to bring his godson to the team, you hadn’t batted an eye. Bradley was a good teammate, and a good player. Unfortunately, the Bradley that shows up in San Diego is nothing like your research suggested. He’s moody, irritable, aggressive, and angry, throwing a wrench in all your careful planning. What’s caused such a drastic change in him? And can you figure out how to help him before he makes a mistake you can’t fix?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, dead parents, drunkenness, alcohol consumption, violence, sports violence, blood probably, angst, fluff, eventual smut, age gap (28 and 38), enemies to lovers, suggestive language, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, You Catch More Bees With Honey. It was originally posted in November-March 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Main Series: COMPLETED

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Oneshots

Nothing here yet!

Blurbs

Nothing here yet!

#san diego dogfighters au #San Diego dogfighters #San Diego dogfighters hockey au #you catch more bees with honey // goldenseresinretriever #ycmbwh // goldenseresinretriever #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #Bradley rooster Bradshaw x reader #Bradley rooster Bradshaw x you #rooster x reader #rooster x you #top gun maverick hockey au #top gun maverick #top gun #TGM #no use of y/n

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kuurousa · 1 year ago

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🐝🐝🐝

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manderleyfire · 1 year ago

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“Myself. I killed the old me so I could come with you.” She plucked the splinter free. “There. Well, I hope old you doesn’t haunt new you. We’ve already got enough ghosts us.”

"Haunt Me" from There Is No Death, There Are No Dead by Gemma Files // "Killing the Love" from The Divorce Papers by Anne Sexton // "The Valley Song (Zoo Lullaby)" from The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes by Lucy Gray Baird Suzanne Collins // "Wuthering Heights" by Emily Brontë // "Herakles" by Euripides (Anne Carson's translation) // "The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes" by Suzanne Collins // "A Game of Thrones" by George R. R. Martin // "Crime and Punishment" by Fyodor Dostoevsky.

#thgedit #tbosasedit #snowbaird #coriolanus x lucy gray #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #shitty things i do for love #in closing i need to write down two more quotes because they're matchless #*but they didn't quite match THE haunting x doomed theme unfortunately*#when zamyatin said 'she is like a bee: both a sting and honey are inside her'#and when margaret atwood said 'both dark and light like snow'#i mean??????? whaaaat????? that's exactly my lucy gray and that's exactly my coryo #last but not least: god bless maiah wynne for recording every single lg's song #tbosas movie had let me down when i needed it most *the valley song*#and god bless marg for not leaving me alone in this world of suffering #uwuwuwuwwuwu

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xxanaduwrites · 2 months ago

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

wearin’ that loved on look

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

summary: in which a drawn out engagement leaves honey takin’ matters into her own hands. benny may or may not break a rule or two, actin’ married sooner rather than later when seeing his honey wearin’ that loved on look ;)

warnings: 18 + only. alluded sexual content but nothing super crazy. quite more poetic actually. they are pretty much pining over each other. no actual smut here but i may write a part 2 if requested or interest ensues.

word count: 4.2k

main hive 🐝

💌 requests are open, send ‘em honey 💋

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

You were taking one last look in the mirror when that familiar sound of a rumbling engine echoed out on the street near your front lawn. Your stomach couldn’t help but twist up in a tight knot, your reflection staring back at you, confirming there was no turning back now. Your man was here. He was right outside, and it’d be cruel to make him wait a minute longer. Would it? Or would it be just the right thing. Sixty seconds to settle yourself. Sixty seconds to render your composure and pique his interest simultaneously.

All good things come to those who wait after all.

So you took your time – well as much time as you would allow yourself. Stepping over a lone shoe missing its match and an overall or two, you made your way over to the window to let your man know you’d be out in just a minute. On a night like this, you knew he’d keep the engine running, Itching to get to the club. Itching to get you out of your parents’ hair. Not wanting to waste a single second he could be spending with just you. So, it was only fair when you rolled up the window and hollered his name over the not-so quiet street. The sound of his engine was noisy enough to mask out the hinges of the old window panes attached to your house.

Not wanting to give too much away, you ducked ever-so swiftly as Benny’s head turned in the direction of your sweet voice. Once his eyes landed on you, all he could see was your small head, a mound of honey dewdrop curls planted up on your head like your own personal hive. And then you were holding up a finger, silently telling him to hold on for just a minute, and he of course was complying – still with a sliver of hesitance though. It was unlike you to leave him waiting. Especially on a night like this. A night that didn’t require hitting the hay early for rising school hours. No – it was a Friday night. An oddly warm and buggy Friday night, relevant over the sudden silence of his engine succumbing to the buzzing cicadas.

Mounting off his bike, he settled into a casual lean against it instead. However, his cool demeanor did not match the tumbleweed of thoughts rolling inside his head.

Were your Ma and Pa holding you back? Would they come out to talk to him? Were they finally gonna rip off the bandage and take away the blessing of marrying you he’d been working so hard to maintain?

Pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger, he let out a much needed breath before fishing for his pack of cigarettes in his pocket. The urge for a smoke was unbearable and warranted, so much so, that when he lit the thing up, took a look around, and really settled with his thoughts, his concerns didn’t feel as daunting as they once were. Upon inspection, your driveway was vacant, empty – confirming that one or both of your parents had to be out on the town or out of it completely. It wasn’t unusual for them to trek to another state for a festival where honey sales were of great interest, and on top of that, well – you didn’t look upset by any means. That had to be a plus there. Could it? He couldn’t recall your smile meeting your eyes through the warm honey light shining from your childhood bedroom against the deep dark night….

He was just about to take another drag when the hinges of your front door squeaked in protest, your silhouetted figure crisp against the hall lamp light. Right before you were about to close the front door completely, you peeked your head back inside, practically cursing yourself as you smacked on the front porch light.

Welp – there was truly no turning back now. Your one minute time stamp was long gone. The hair tie, that you’d already regretted taking out of your hair, was haphazardly tossed on your vanity, and the searing porch light was now burning you like a spot light. The show had begun, and boy were you giving your Benny a show.

He blinked. Once, twice, maybe three times? He wasn’t sure. Hell – how could he keep count when he was looking at you. You – his fiance, top snug in a new denim vest, decked out in patches galore, and bottom – god your bottom – in a matching mini skirt, your smooth honey tanned legs on full display. With your hair scooped down, tossed messily in a side parted wave and your form lacking its usual layers of clothes, his eyes rounded out, jaw slackened, and his pants – well they started to feel real tight around him.

Little did he know you were nervous. Real nervous to come towards him. To be out in such an outfit that was so unlike you. Sure you were known for your signature denim and fun patches, but not like this. Not out of your more appropriate school clothes that consisted of long skirts and dresses, and of course your usual overalls. And hey – there was no denying that you wore shorts every now and then on your days off. The Chicago heat was no joke on those dense warm summer days. Yet there was nothing sunny about tonight, no – not in this darkness where you felt in competition with the moon.

As you walked towards Benny, you couldn’t help but pull your skirt down ever-so slightly, the barely there length making you rather uncomfortable and out of sorts. You could only hope you weren’t mooning your house, let alone your neighbors. The last thing you needed were your parents finding out you left the house with your ass out.

Funnily enough, your worry slipped your mind the moment your eyes landed on Benny. Eyes alight, he looked like a lost puppy, begging for a treat. So much so, that the cigarette dangling between his teeth lost purchase. His jaw so slack from shock, the cylinder tipped right out of his mouth and hit the pavement. You almost laughed. You really almost did, but you bit down on your lip before it could escape you.

You were relieved to say the least, and his reaction alone reminded you why you were doing this in the first place. It wasn’t because you were fishing for his attention. You always had it. Hell – you had him wrapped around your little finger, even if you were too humble and sometimes clueless to really think so.

But here, now – there was a difference. A difference because you were not only trying to reward him for being so good to you, but also because you wanted a little something more from him. Of course you just loved being his fiance, but waiting to get married was taking such a toll on you. You wanted to be his wife sooner rather than later, and it was no help at all that your parents were being sticklers in the matter. Practically ruining your plans of getting hitched anytime soon. It was all this and that of them wanting Benny to prove himself. To show himself worthy to your parents that he would be a good fit for their daughter. You thought it was all rather counter productive. Benny had shown himself worthy to you in many ways, and there was no denying that it perturbed you that your parents didn’t trust your judgment. You were a big girl, a fully grown adult, a whole school teacher, and yet they still treated you like you were a little one.

You didn’t want to be treated like that tonight. No – you wanted to be treated like a wife. His wife.

Benny was in the midst of reaching down for his fallen cigarette, too lovestruck and drunk off your presence to realize it was long gone and better off forgotten. Funnily enough, his peripheral vision was still trained on you, making you realize sooner than later that upon straightening back out, he’d have the perfect view under your skirt. The thought made you blush all over, warming up your insides.

Before his lean fingers could snag the thing, your wedged denim sandal found purchase on the discarded cylinder, the fire burning out as your foot stomped on it. “S’dirty.” You reasoned, those pretty sky blue eyes of his boring up at you in a way that kind-of reminded you of the little school children you worked with. There was an innocence there. One that was only reserved for you, hidden beneath a tough rounded out exterior apparent to everyone else. Yet, it wasn’t all innocent. No — not in the way his features twisted up in desire.

For a second you almost thought he was gonna take you right there and then, a nosedive right up your skirt that you wouldn’t deny. But no — instead you were left wanting, aching as he straightened himself back up, warm calloused fingertips brushing against the small remnants of exposed skin between your vest and skirt, hands materializing at your hips and pulling you in.

“Honey….” He drawled, a fun little whistle rather detached from his usual deep tuned voice spurring out of him. “Wha’ I do to deserve this?” He mused, planting kisses across your neck, erupting you in giggles. “Hm?” He pressed, squeezing your sides sweetly.

In your defense, who could blame you for being tongue tied when he was all over you? Pillowy lips snagging the delicate skin of your neck, soft and sweet. “Is tha’ even a question?” You giggled again as his teeth dragged against your collarbone.

“M’serious…” he murmured into your skin, stifling the growl that was bound to escape him. “S’there a special occasion I dunno ‘bout?” He tried again, but suddenly stiffened. Lips detached from your skin, as well as his warm breath. An indication that he was holding it in. “S’not our anniversary is it? I swore it wasn’t until — fuck, m’sorry Honey did I —“ his words caught in his throat, tangled in a web of self inflicted doubt, and you hated it. Hated seeing him like this, thinking he had done something wrong. Fucked up somehow. But you were quick — so quick in assessing the situation, your hands, fingernails decked out in your usual color of choice — ballet slippers — and Benny’s ring, still snug on your honorary finger since your engagement, circled around his face.

It took him a moment, but his scruffy cheeks relaxed against your palms in an instant when your eyes met his in alarm. “No, baby. Nah. Ain’t an anniversary or nothin’. Just wanted to show y’my love. That’s all.” His pinched brows smoothed out, and you smiled as you watched the worry flee his eyes. “Betty er —“ you began rather shyly, “she uh gave me one of her old vests, y’see?” You explained, dropping your hands from his face and onto the clothing in question. “Johnny’s got her a new one, so she said I could have hers. Deck it out. Do what I wanna with it. So….” You turned on your heel, spinning in a quick circle before sing-songing a, “ta-da!” like you’d do for your students when you had some sort of surprise or good news. Usually it’d be a lollipop for each after an exam. A congratulatory treat for completing such a task!

Your nerves were still running on a high, but you flashed Benny one of your grand smiles as you striked a little pose, jazz hands included.

When it hit you what you were doing, you mentally wanted to curse yourself out for putting on such a childish act. This was all about acting like a wife, not a child! You wanted him to want you just as much as you wanted him, but what kind of motives were this?

Thankfully, your mental battle didn’t last very long. It ended quite quickly the moment his mouth opened and drawled, “Hmm….C’mere. Lemme take a closer look at ya.”

You obliged without question. Without resistance. Without any sort of hesitation. His voice always tickled you to the bone, but this — this! This was something else entirely. Something that sent honey down below in deep measure. So you stepped forward, becoming caged by his observation in an instant. His hands materialized on your hips against the rough denim of your skirt all over again. It was like he was scared you’d walk away before he’d get to really look at the art in front of him, and god were you just a whole masterpiece.

You stayed silent, giving him the space to do as such, but you couldn’t help but watch him as he drank you in from head to toe. His eyes wandered over every patch, and it made your cheeks burn when he spent extra time on the ones that really resembled you. There were the cute little bedazzled bees and a jar of honey of course, but also an apple as a little ode to your teacher status. You stitched some extra flowers you had leftover from when you were sewing patches onto your denim overall dress from school. The one you met Benny in the very first day you saw him.

“Baby….” he hummed in complete approval. “Ya real talented, y’know that? S’good. Too —“ But then his words cut out in the midst of complimenting you, and you knew he finally saw it. The patch that was just the beginning to what the back claimed, but held so much more commitment. More devotion even. In the front, on the left upper side of the vest right over your heart was a patch, shaped in such a way — a heart to be exact — with the words Benny’s Baby stitched right into it. “Wha — What’s this?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach then, worry shooting through your veins as you scrambled to complete your next sentence. “S’just a — a lil’ something. I know you were uh — real hell bent about the ring thing. Getting me a proper one or whatever so…” you trail off, nudging your purse from your shoulder so you could open up it and reveal the contents of your explanation. Benny just stared, watched you like some fascinated kid about to be gifted a candy cigarette for the first time as you took out the matching patch you made for him. One that was more daring, more forward, and far more a symbol of ownership than anything you had on yours, as far as you were concerned. “I uh — I made you one too,” you tumbled out, hands shaking as you held it out for him to see. A similar heart. Rather exact to yours. The catch? It said Honey’s Hubby in your pretty neat stitched cursive. “And look, you don’t have to wear it if you don’t wanna. I know it’s kind of silly and all, but I just thought it could be our thang, y’know? Our promise to each other but again if that’s —“

“Honey, Honey….Honey,” he rumbled out soft, smooth, and sultry, all the same, bringing your rambling to a hault. “Are ya kiddin’ me? Y’think I wouldn’t wear this?” He asked, his thumb rubbing across the indentations the stitching made over and over again. If he could mold his finger print into the embroidery, write those same words repeatedly, eternally to show his devotion, he would.

“Well I, I mean —“ you dropped your hands dramatically at your sides. “The guys….”

“What about ‘em?” Benny pressed, pocketing your creation protectively over his heart before taking a step closer to you. “I don’t care wha’ they think. Don’t care what anybody thinks besides you,” his hand circled your side once more, this time pulling you in so you were chest to chest. “Look, soon when the times right,” he let out a frustrated sigh, clearly targeted towards your parents who weren’t even in the vicinity, ”on paper, in writing, y’gonna be my wife. But right here, right now, fucking on this patch, y’already mine, kay?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, your hands taking purchase on Benny’s vest, fingers trailing down the patches, down until you reached his belt, down down down until his breath caught his throat.

“Honey…” he warned, eyes drooping with heaviness. Heaviness in your desire and his own. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you. Hell — he always fucking wanted you. Only you. But he had made a promise to himself.

To you. For you.

He promised to wait. Wait to have all of you.

He knew he wasn’t a good guy. Knew he’d never be the good guy, but he wanted to be better for you. Do better for you. So, he decided early on — the moment he knew he wanted you to be his wife, that he’d at least do one thing right.

Sure you’d fool around. There wasn’t any way either of you could resist it. Not when Benny’s muscular arms appeared full display when a shirt simply couldn’t be an option on one of those super sweltering days. It’d be a sin not to have your hands all over him, feeling the warmth of his toned sun-kissed skin under your palms. And you — oh you, in one of your pretty little dresses, a rare sight to see on a weekday. Benny’d be kicking himself for weeks on end if he didn’t seize the opportunity, didn’t get to have his skilled calloused fingers up and under your skirt.

“Wha?” You asked innocently with batting lashes.

He didn’t move away from your touch, but stilled yours, his large hand encircling both your smaller ones hugging onto his belt loop. “Y’know we can’t….” He murmured, vibrated even. His words didn’t match what he wanted. You could tell in the way his bottom lip turned crimson as he bit down through all his restraint, and his eyes burned darker in the pale moonlight. And of course you could tell by the obvious bulge that was forming rather apparently in his jeans.

“Not right nowwww…” you trailed, pulling on the reins of his belt loop so you could be closer. “Lata, after the club. My parents ain’t home for the rest of the weekend. Won’t be home until Monday. So…Y’know what that meansss?”

“So that’s why y’dolled up like this?” He huffed, a big toothed smile in pure disbelief stretching across his gorgeous features. A rare sight to see. So rare that you almost thought you imagined his eyes crinkling at the edges in pure amusement. “To get me inta y’bed?”

Embarrassment dusted your cheeks in red heat. So hot, it left you shy in the wake of your motives. “S’not just —“ you stammered, trying to find the right words to say what you truly felt.

But you were frustrated. So frustrated. And Benny well — he was sure to fix that. Sure to get that stubborn crease out between your brows that waa forming in pure stress. “If that wha’ y’wanted, baby. Y’coulda just asked.” He mused, lips pressing against the curve of your neck, right near a sensitive spot he knew worked you up. “As much as I love all this,” he whispered, the warmth of his breathe sending a shiver down your spine as his hands traveled down your silhouette, “Y’could be wearin’ a potato sack, and I’d still find ya sexy.”

You understood what he meant, and you appreciated it. You really did. But that wasn’t the point. The point was much more emotional, more intense, more meaningful, and you weren’t gonna let it slip way. “S’not just about gettin’ ya in my bed,” you started, your lips parting and almost making you lose your train of thought as his lips edged the side of your ear. Your hands moved up the plains of his chest and you pushed him back ever-so slightly.

His lips detached from your skin in an instant and those pretty blue eyes of his locked with yours in complete attentiveness. “Then wha’ is it, Honey?”

“I know y’say I’m already yours, and I believe ya I really do, but,” you sighed, “why doesn’t it feel that way?”

“Wha — wha d’ya mean?” He asked, fingers pressing into your sides in a way that made you know he was the one gettin’ frustrated now. Frustrated that he could lose you. That you could just slip between his fingertips.

Reassuring him, you slipped your hands upward, looping them behind and around his neck lovingly. “I mean…I’m tired, baby. Tired of waitin’ to be your wife. And I’m sick of my Ma and Pa thinkin’ they can control us. Control what we want. Control our lives. Why let ‘em? When have you — Mister doesn’t let anybody tell ‘em what to do— follow the rules?”

You had a point. Benny knew that. It was rather out of character for him to be a goody-to-shoes, if you will, but this — this was different. This was him showing his honor. His dedication to you. Similarly to how he would to the club. Deep down you knew that too.

“I am too,” Benny admitted, his fingers relaxing against you, his admission draining the tension from his body. “As much as I’d like ta marry ya right ‘bout now, the courthouses ain’t open, and I know it’d break Betty’s lil’ heart if we went off and got hitched with all the plannin’ she’s up to.”

“Oh no — i know. I know we can’t do that right now crazy,” you laughed lightly before getting serious, “And y’know I’d neva’ do that to her. Neva eva.”

“Mhm,” he hummed, eyes never leaving you.

“I just wanna be close to you. That’s all. Never feel — never feel close enough, y’know?” Now you were the one with an admission.

Benny’s features softened in an instant, shoulders slumping against your arms. You could feel his resolve slipping in the seconds that slipped by your words. He went silent for a minute. Just a minute. Sixty seconds that had the gears turning in his head. But sixty seconds that would change everything once they were through. He knew you were right about the rules. He wasn’t one to follow them anyways, and besides in the long run would it really hurt to break just this one a bit? A bit for you who was wanting to do just the same.

You who was begging to be his wife.

If it was so wrong then why did it feel so right?

“Y’wanna be closer to me? Wanna feel what it’s really like to be married, baby?” He said suddenly, taking you off guard.

He pulled you in closer, and your heart leaped in your chest. “Yes,” you said as confidently as you could.

“Then when the club’s through, I’ll stay the night and you’ll have me, ‘kay?” The words you were longing to hear had come into frusion.

Your disbelief and pure surprise made you eager to confirm they were real. “Oh Benny! Are y’sure?” You asked, practically jumping up and down.

“M’sure,” Benny laughed lightly, his heart warming at the sight of you in genuine happiness. “As y’said, when have I ever followed the rules?”

“Hm…Tha’ my Benny…” you murmured before his lips captured yours in a searing passionate kiss.

You were so wrapped in one another, not realizing how long you were standing there, that it took one of the neighbor’s lights turning on through their window in your peripheral vision for you to pull apart.

“We should go,” Benny said breathlessly. His lips were swollen and puffy with a thin sheen of your lip gloss now coating ‘em. You had to stifle a laugh when you reached up and wiped the excess off with your thumb.

You nodded in agreement, turning with him to mount the bike, but at the last second you stopped in your tracks. “Wait Benny! I forgot to show you the back.” You exasperated, stepping back.

“Hm?” He hummed in confusion, not leaving his spot on the bike, mounted and ready to go as he looked at you.

“The vest!” You explained, spinning on your heel and revealing the back. In the center, around the usual Outlaws Chicago emblem, instead of a skull in the center, you replaced it with a patch that said, Property of Benny.

You stood there for a minute. Sixty seconds in your pose, and just when you were about to open your mouth and ask if he liked it, did you suddenly feel those all too familiar arms circle around you and hold you up in the air. “Benny!” You squealed when your feet were no longer against the pavement dangling in the air.

“That’s it,” he groaned, before swooping up your feet bridal style and walking across the grass.

“Benny! What’re ya doing?” Your eyes widened in surprise as you watched him walk you in the opposite direction of the bike. To your front door. “Wha’ about the club?” You probbed again frantically.

“Club can wait.” He said simply. “Actin’ married can’t.”

That was all it took — well that and his lips molding against yours, silencing every thought you ever had once the door closed behind you two and you ended up doing just what you intended.

Actin’ married.

Because even if it wasn’t legal yet, you were bound together spiritually by your feelings and actions alone.

You became his, and he became yours on a randomly warm night under the pale moonlight.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

authors note: i apologize for how long this took for me to update! i’m just glad my writer’s block has ended & i’m back.

but anywayssss i may write a part 2 to this ;)

also if ya new here hi! welcome honey & if you aren’t but haven’t yet 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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