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Hey i rally love your writing! I was wondering, if your requests are open, and of yes you could do something with benny watts from the Queens gambit. With the hat rule( you Wear the hat, you ride the cowboy). Like maybe they are friends and she steals his hat and He asks her if she knows the rule. And shes like yes i do. If you dont want to ist totaly ok. Once again i love you writing thank youu
Hey so like… I know it’s been uh, years since you requested this. But; here it is haha! I stared this blog than immediately ditched it because life got in the way. But I’m here to let out some of this creative steam that’s blocking up my brain.
Side note, this is totally not proof read.
Also- she gets a little spicy
How’s that saying go?
Benny Wats, how would you begin to describe the man? Intelligent, Skilled, Quick witted, and undeniability jaw dropping, stupidity pretty. At least, that’s how you described him. Right now. Cackling meanisily as the words flow from your mouth. Delivered in a slurred, almost unrecognisable pattern thanks to the liquid courage flowing through your veins. Two beers, four shots and three of the “speciality cocktails” deep. The ‘speciality’ in question is tequila. In burns hot in your veins warming your body, causing it to flush with a glowing pink rays. The bounce off your, directing straight at Benny.
He had to admit when he suggested going to a bar to drink his sorrows away after a recent defeat. One that came so unexpectedly and hit him hard, cutting deep in his ego. He hadn’t expected for you to tags along. And he especially didn’t expect for you to get absolutely shit faced.
You sit across from him, grin wide on your flushed features, eyes twinkling with a fuzzy haze as the barley even on lights flicker in the dingy dive bar. It wasn’t the nicest place to be. But right now Beeny is looks at what he considered to be the most incredible view of his life.
Your shoulders are released against the worn leather of the booth, the (also barley even on) tank top sits crooked across your body. Your breasts essentially spilling out of your bra. The jacked you wore on the once fridged autum night now lays abondoned. Slung poorly across the back of your chair.
He had to call it. Benny was a gentleman after all, and he fears if you keep looking at him like that, sitting so prettily across from him- he shuffles slightly in his seat, suddenly growing uncomfortable in his once lazed position.
“Okay, pretty thing.” He practically coos at you as he stands. His skim frame hovering over you. You shrink at little at this, feeling the weight of his stare and the tickly of his words in your chest.
“Time to go.” He extends a hand out to you. Allowing you to slowly stand, head reeling slightly tipping back as if the weight of your own extremely had not been known to you.
He steadies you quickly. Arms reaching to your waste, allowing you to wobble slightly in place. Providing a barrier so you don’t eat shit, essentially. One you are stead he’s quick to move. Gathering up his coat and yours in his arm. Reaching for his hat, you are quick to act. The movement surprising the man. You snatch his hat from the table, clutching it close in your arm.
“I got ya hat.” You smile a wicked grin at him, wiggling the before mentioned item in your hand. Allowing it to dangle enticingly at Beeny. Your eyes shining, glinting with mischief.
“And if you want if back-“ you begin, taking slow cautious steps backwards, finding your footing. The man tilts his head at you, a stern look is his bright eyes, but a small smile rested upon his face. His shifts the jackets to one arm, silently preparing for some kind of antict.
“Your gonna have to catch me!” You yell the last part of your sentence as you bolt through the front door of the bar. Benny swears under his breath. Fumbling with his wallet he throws a stack of whatever amount on the table before running after you. A boyish laugh rumbling in his chest.
As he jogs up to his car, been stops in his tracks. You are leaned against the passenger side door, arms crossed with a shit eating smile etched across your face. His hat, lay triumphantly atop your head.
Benny can’t help the heat that consumes him. His mind going foggy and his head spinning as he sees you, in his hat. He didn’t know it was an image that could illicit such a reaction. But yet hear the man stands, battling with his emotions like some kid if teenager. He doesn’t know what consumes him.
He needs to be close to you.
Beeny practically stalked up to you, eyes narrow and pointed starting at you like a wild animal. You don’t know what to do, like a dear in headlights you stand frozen in place. He’s on you now. So close you can feel his breath on your lips. Hot bursts as he pants, practically drools over you.
One arm come up next to your head, softly resting on the cool metal of the car. The change in temperature is welcomed to Beeny. His other arm comes across you, not touching. He lays his palm on the metal of the door.
“Now darling.” It comes at low and raspy. Pulled from the back of his throat.
“You can’t just go around wearing a man’s hat like that-“ he lowers his voice into a husky whisper. He’s towering over you, making you almost feel small. Hands shaking as adrenaline kicks in. Your teeth pulling your lips into a light hold. Sucking harsh at the plump skin.
“There are rules about these things you know.” He says it like a secret, his thumb coming up to release you lip from the tortuous hold of your lips. Staring intently at the swelling skin.
You push back against the car slightly, head tilting to meet his gaze. Your eyes burn fierce into his. Causing another hit wave to push through his body, stomach tightening and his eyebrows shit up is surprise.
You blink once, then twice. Slow and calculated. Once you know his attention is fully on you, you swing both your arms around his neck. Pulling him flush with your body. Benny can’t help the groan that seeps through as you meet his gave once more.
“How’s that saying go again.” You query, rotating you palms up and moving to place them on top of his hat, sitting so pretty on your head. Pulling Beeny closer, forcing his to crouch slightly, tilting his back back to keep in sight.
“Save a horse. Ride a cowboy?”
You take the hat and place it harshly on top of Bennys head. Causing his to lose his footing and stumble back slightly.
A giggly erupting loudly from you as he places his hand onto top of his hat, on his head. And suddenly, it doesn’t feel right. His misses the way you glow, his hat sitting like a crown on top of your head. His misses that view already.