#rob lowe x reader

[multifandomworldsposts]

Day 7 of Kinkmas: Sleeping In The Lot With Sodapop Curtis

KINKMAS 🎄🧤❄️

Pairing: Sodapop Curtis x fem!reader

Warning: making out, hickeys, protected sex, public sex

Y/N’s POV

Sodapop and I are going to the drive-in to see Beach Blanket Bingo tonight, we’ve been wanting to go somewhere alone for quite sometime because of him working including me going to school.

When Soda and I got to the drive-in, I can see some socs and their Mustangs and Corvairs, as usual. When Soda and I parked we went to the concession stand to get some food and snacks. When we got there, I see Bob and Randy, looking smug as ever.

“Just ignore them.” I whisper into Soda’s ear.

“I will Y/N/N.” He whispers back.

We get our food and drinks and we walked out like there was no one in the room. We get back to the car and get in the trunk of Soda’s truck and we get comfortable, ate our food, I cuddle up with Soda and enjoy the movie.

After the movie, Soda decided to take us to the lot to be somewhere quieter. I cuddled up with Soda again and look up to the stars to see any shapes in the sky.

“Did you like the movie?” Soda says looking at me.

“Yeah I did, I really loved the dancing and the fashion in the movie.” I say looking at him.

“I only liked the dancing.” He jokingly says.

“Come on, what else did you like?” I asked him.

“Fine, I liked the dancing and the sets of the movie.” He says trying to think.

“I like that better.” I smile.

Soda looks at me and kisses me, I kiss back. We look at each other and I make him get on top of me. We begin to make out, we haven’t done this in a while now but I’m glad we’re doing this.

Soda begins to touch my body, I moan, but I try to keep my moaning quiet because there’s neighbors everywhere. I feel him giving me love bites, I gasp. I get on top of him and gave him some hickeys as well.

“This is new to me Y/N/N.” Soda whispers in my ear.

“Just want to give my baby what he wants.” I whisper back.

“I like the sound of that.” He smirks.

I giggle and continue to kiss his neck. He wraps his arms around me and continues to touch me which makes me to giggle. Soda makes me lay down on the ripped up car seat and grabs a condom.

“You wanna do this?” He says to me.

“We’ll just be quiet.” I sit up and whispers in his ear.

We begin take our clothes off, Soda gets the condom on him and begins to fuck me slowly, I cover my mouth so I can be quiet. I gasp a little, he really is so good at this.

I flip us over so I can be on top, I begin to ride him. He grabs on my hips and guides me, I already can tell I’m going to be sore tomorrow. I sway my hips to make him feel deeper inside me, he covers his mouth and groans. I giggle at him. I make him sit up so he’s looking at me and he looks at my breasts.

“I don’t mind if you do anything to em’.” I say to him.

He grins and starts to do something to the valley of my breasts, I tug on his hair, I feel him sucking my nipples, which makes me arch my back and lean my head back by the pleasure of him now giving me more hickeys. My parents are going to kill me, I hope we have children one day.

After him being a sex crave addict, we lay on the car seat. I feel his heart beating and he touches my hair.

“I hope we can do this somewhere more private Soda.” I say looking up at him.

“So we can be louder?” He grins.

“Maybe.” I giggle.

We look at the stars again, they different than the last time I saw them.

“I promise I’ll make daddy fuck me harder.” I whisper.

“Let’s just go to an abandoned warehouse and, daddy will make you beg.” I says in a deep voice.

“What if mommy wants to take control?” I pout.

He winks at me, he knows I’ll take control and make him feel good like he does with me.

[supercap2319]

"Hey, Darr? You seen my jeans? I know I left em right outside the door when I went to take a shower." Soda asked, in a towel and dripping wet.

Darry looks at his younger brother. "Y/N went towards yours and Pony's room to hide em. Thought it would be funny."

"That little minx. I'ma teach him a lesson he won't forget." Soda walks towards his bedroom as Darry smiles.

[ey3s-with0ut-afac3]

hii!!! could i request the outsiders (seperate) with like a theater kid reader

OH MY GOD YES OFC.

The outsiders with a theater kid!

(as someone who's so into films and acting, I love this.)

I'm gonna try to make these gender neutral and both platonic and a romantic relationship (romantic= pink, platonic=blue)

Ponyboy:

* I can already see him asking you to act out scenes from his books😭

* Absolutely admirers your confidence

* he's a good lair (as mentioned in the book), so I would assume he's a good actor and would gladly help you put with whatever.

* GOD, THIS BOY LOVES SEEING YOU PREFORM.

* he's 100 percent gonna let you do stage makeup on him

* he gets so giddy when you get on and off stage

Soda:

* Okay, lowkey, he thinks what you do is KINDA cool

* I don't see him as a huge theater person, but he's supporting you

* he's at least tried to do some sort of improve exercise with you once (if yk the freeze one thats what I'm talking about if not I can explain in the comments)

* Now, if you two are dating, this is gonna change a bit. He's more into it, just because you like it.

* Like ponyboy, he's gonna go to like every performance you have

* If you need help with a script, he'll be happy to call out you're line but he just can't read and perform at the same time with a straight face.

Soda trying to help

Soda:"VERONICA **giggles** OPEN THE, OPEN THE DOOR PLEASE**starts laughing**

Y/n:"What's so funny?"

Soda:"I just can't read it with a straight face😭😭"

Darry:

* Like the other brothers he's gonna TRY and help

* He's gonna stare at you like "🫥" when you use theather terms.

Y/n"It says I have to be stage front and with a 3/4 turn"*showing the script*

Darry:"wtf..🫥😦"

* He'll call out lines you missed but do NOT expect him to have any emotion

* He's gonna make an effort to come to youre shows but let's be for real, he's so damn busy

* He's let you do stage makeup on him ONCE

* like ponyboy said in the books, hes to busy to draw or read, so with this i feel like its more a you thing, he cant oay attention to it much but he trys!!

Steve:

* He has most DEFINITELY snagged you're script to read for fun

* He thinks it's nerdy but what ever

* If you asked he's would help call out or act out lines with you

*IM CRYING HES MAKING IT TO ALL OF YOURE SHOWS.

* he has gotten into your makeup more than once and ended up looking like Ronald mcdonald....

* He definitely zones out at shows, but he's gonna act like he saw everything... just let him get away with it😭

Twobit:

* 100000 percent enjoys the theater kid vibe

* I so think he would be a theater kid, and you two would be in a performance class. That's how you two met

* Please just let him read the script for his entertainment 💀

* Let's be honest, he's gonna show up to show a little tipsy, and you two will probably end up drinking after the show

* he lives for this shit. It's so entertaining to him😭🫶🏼

* Like Steve, he's gotten into your makeup

Dallas:

* Yeah no...he thinks it's nerdy

* if you ABSOLUTELY needed help, he'll sit down on his bed, you'll sit next to him, and go over lines

Y/n: "Heather duke...I forgot the line 🫥"

Dallas: *eye roll* "Heather Duke, no discernible personality, but her mom did pay for implants." He would call out call out from the paper script

* Like darry, he's gonna give you that. "🫥😦" Look, when you start yapping in theater, kid

* Okay, dating wise, he's a bit more open to the whole thing

* He's gonna go to your shows, but don't expect much. He's just not into it. He'll tell you that you did a good job, tho!

* He gets annoyed sometimes, but he doesn't day anything because he doesn't wanna hurt you😭🫶🏼

Johnny:

* He likes that you're confident. He knows he'd be scared to be up on stage

* He wants you to read the scripts like ponyboy reads gone with the wind to him in the book and movie

* He really only thinks about it when you bring it up

* He LOVES going to see you perform. It's so entertaining for him

* He would so tell you how good you did and what not after

* Dating him, I feel, would be a bit different. He would help call out lines, but that's really it. On top of that, I feel like he'd be nervous??

THANK YOU FOR READING!! Have a good morning/after/night🫶🏼

-Leilani

[myfictionalboyfriendsandme]

Such a Gentleman

Pairing(s): Sodapop Curtis x Female Winston!Reader 

Prompt(s): Asking before kissing or even touching

Word Count: Around 2,200

Warning(s): hints at violence (but no actual violence), Two-Bit being kinda dumb, nervousness, anxiety, a few swear words

Rating: T

Author’s Note(s): I’ve never written for Sodapop before, but he’s always been one of my favorite characters! I hope y’all enjoy this!

———————————————————————————————————

Their first date was at the Nightly Double.

She didn't know how he managed to talk his brother into letting them use his truck for the night, but she was thankful. It was nice to finally have some alone time with her favorite Curtis brother.

Sodapop. The heartthrob of their gang of Greasers.

Sodapop with his bright, ocean blue eyes. Sodapop with his chiseled jawline. Sodapop with his unruly, movie star-esque hair. Sodapop, the one she had been in love with since she moved to Tulsa.

And he was sitting next to her in the bed of the truck, so close she could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

There was a part of her that still couldn't believe she was there at that moment. Was it all a dream? Would she wake up in her bed at Buck's?

No. She wouldn't.

It was all real.

———————————————————————————————————

Sodapop had approached her a few days prior, fresh off a shift at the DX. She could still smell the gasoline and cigarette smoke, and his uniform shirt was covered in dark stains. Somehow he still managed to look like a celebrity.

She had been walking to his house to have dinner with the gang like she always did every Wednesday night when he came bounding up behind her.

"(Y/N)!"

Pausing her movements, she looked back at him and smiled. "Hey, Pepsi-Cola!"

Soda grinned and she swore she died a little inside.

"You know, (Y/N)," Soda said as he finally made his way to her side, "you really shouldn't be walkin' by yourself. What if somethin' happened to you?"

They started walking again. (Y/N) shrugged. "No one's tried anything with me, Soda. Everybody knows Dally'd skin 'em alive." She noticed that he positioned his body on her right side, closest to the road, and couldn't help but smile to herself before continuing her thoughts. "Plus I have you. You're one of my best friends. I know you wouldn't let anything happen to me."

"Well I can't protect ya if I ain't with ya." Soda said. He stuffed his hands into his front pockets. "You're right though, no one wants to mess with your brother. No one's got the guts."

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. "You don't have to remind me. It's hard enough being a Greaser in this town, but being Dallas Winston's little sister? Forget it. I can't even go buy a coke at the concession stand without getting looked at."

Soda kicked at a rock with his shoe. "Oh, don't mind 'em, (Y/N). They don't know nothin'."

"I know, Soda. I'm alright." (Y/N) kept walking but looked behind them. "Where's your shadow? Surprised he's not with ya."

He laughed. "He's taking Evie to the drive-in tonight. I guess there was a new movie she wanted to see."

(Y/N) nodded and saw the Curtis house appear in the distance. There was a moment of silence as the two kept moving down the sidewalk. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Soda glance at her before quickly snapping his head back forward. He didn't say anything but (Y/N) could tell he seemed tense.

This was new behavior. He wasn't usually on edge around her.

The Curtis house was even closer at this point, but she stopped moving. "Soda." She furrowed her eyebrows. "Are you okay?"

He took a deep breath and turned to her. "I guess I'm just a little nervous." He quickly diverted his eyes to his feet.

This was not her Sodapop. Sodapop Curtis did not get nervous. Sodapop Curtis was happy-go-lucky and had a personality as bright as the sun in the sky.

"Soda, do you even know what that means?" She asked. "You don't get nervous. It's not in your nature."

He looked back at her. His eyes were shining in the light of the Tulsa sun. He got a determined look on his face and nodded. "You're right, (Y/N), so I'm just gonna come out and ask it already."

She didn't say anything, waiting for him to continue.

He made eye contact with her and paused. They looked at each other for a moment, his blue eyes meeting hers.

"Doyouwannagotothedrive-inthisweekend?"

She shook her head and widened her eyes. "Come again?"

Another deep breath. "Do you," he paused for a moment to take another breath, "wanna go to the drive-in this weekend?"

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side before giving him a soft smile and little laugh. "Soda, that's fine." She began walking again, almost to the edge of the Curtis lawn. "We go to the drive-in all the time, I don't know why you were so nervous about asking me this time."

"Well, (Y/N)," Soda began, "I was kinda meaning that... it would just be... the two of us."

(Y/N) froze, her eyes the size of dinner plates. He couldn't possibly be doing what she thought he was doing... right?

"It's okay if you don't wanna..." He continued, "or we can invite the rest of the gang, I just thought it would be nice if..."

She was still frozen as he trailed off. He most definitely was doing what she thought he was doing. She felt her heart skip a beat as her eyes lit up, a smile taking over her face. Turning around to face him, she saw him looking anywhere but at her. "Pepsi-Cola..." She said slowly, "are you asking me on a date?"

He finally made eye contact with her and it was like a bolt of lightning struck her in the chest.

"Yeah?" He finally said, running his hand through his hair. "I mean, if that's okay with you."

She felt like she couldn't breathe. How long had she been waiting for him to ask her out? Weeks? Months? Years? She couldn't even keep track anymore. She had been so caught up in the idea that it might be weird for everyone else if he asked her she just resigned to thinking he would never do it for the sake of the gang.

"We really don't have to if you don't wan-"

"I'd love to." She stated, interrupting his rambling. She could feel the blush in her cheeks as she watched him process what she said.

Soda smiled. "Really?" He asked.

(Y/N) nodded. "Really."

———————————————————————————————————

Her reverie was interrupted at the sound of voices.

"No! Really!" Someone protested. "C'mon, I promised Soda we wouldn't do anything!"

She furrowed her eyebrows as the voices sounded like they were getting closer. Looking to her left, she could see Sodapop sigh, an irritated look on his face. "Damn it." He muttered.

Then from around the side of the truck came Two-Bit, Johnny, and Ponyboy. Two-Bit, who seemed like the chief of the operation, was leading the way with a shit-eating grin on his face. Johnny followed silently while Ponyboy took up the rear, still protesting all the way. She couldn't help but notice her brother's absence. The same could be said for Steve. Even they were too smart to join in on Two-Bit's antics.

"Well, hooow-dy!" Two-Bit heckled. "Lookee what we got here, boys!"

(Y/N) could feel the eyes from other cars on their group now. An embarrassed blush spread across her cheeks. She did not need this to happen, especially not on their first date.

"How come ya didn't say anything, Pepsi-Cola?" Two-Bit asked. "Afraid we'd try to embarrass ya?"

She could feel her heart rate quicken. (Y/N) had always been a slightly anxious person, especially when she was receiving unnecessary amounts of attention. Unfortunately for her, it happened quite often.

(Y/N) hadn't been touching Soda even though the two of them were definitely close enough to. She wasn't sure what he was comfortable with. Sure, she'd seen him with other girls, but were things different with her? She didn't want to cross a line and ruin everything before it even began. What if she took his hand and he immediately felt put off? Not to mention she wasn't really that bold.

The banter between the boys continued as her hands began to shake. She had to do something to calm herself down. She snuck a glance to Soda before taking a deep breath. "Soda..."

The boy quickly looked at her, Two-Bit's antics forgotten. "(Y/N)?"

She squeezed her eyes shut. Breathe in, breathe out. Opening her eyes once more, she looked up at him. "Can I hold your hand?"

Soda's eyes were nothing but soft. "Oh, Sunshine," he said before he opened up his hand and moved it into her lap, "you never have to ask to hold my hand."

(Y/N) smiled and immediately clasped his hand in hers, moving even closer to him than she was before. She was completely flushed up against him, his right arm slightly in front of her chest. They were like two puzzle pieces, perfectly matched for the other.

"Hey, Greaser!" Someone yelled off in the distance. "Quiet down!"

She quickly laid her head against Soda's shoulder and hid her face in his shirt, not wanting to see or hear any of the people from the vehicles around them any longer.

Two-Bit snickered. "Look at you two! Y'all are so cute."

Sodapop rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on her hand. "You better quiet down, Two-Bit, before I get out of this truck."

"Come on, Two-Bit." Ponyboy begged. "Let's just go!"

Two-Bit, still cackling, moved closer to the truck bed. "Come on, Sodapop! I'm just hackin' on ya!"

"Yeah, Two-Bit, well go hack on someone else, would ya?" Sodapop exclaimed.

Ponyboy and Johnny managed to start moving Two-Bit away from the bed of the truck. The two boys looked at Sodapop and (Y/N) in apology before moving away from the truck and disappearing altogether.

Soda rubbed free hand over his face before looking down at (Y/N). "I'm sorry... I told Pony not to let 'em find us... Are you okay?"

(Y/N) uncovered her face and looked up at him. She squeezed his hand. "It's not your fault, Soda. I'm okay." She smiled and looked back at the movie, her head still resting on his shoulder.

———————————————————————————————————

After Two-Bit's interruption, the rest of their time at the drive-in went the way it should have. They ended up cuddling under the same blanket while sharing a popcorn and a coke, then the movie ended and they started the drive back to Buck's.

They didn't talk but it wasn't awkward. (Y/N) didn't think it was possible to have an actual awkward moment with Sodapop. They had known each other for so long that it just didn't seem possible. There were points in their lives where they talked about literally anything and everything, but there were also times when they just enjoyed each other's company. It was all enjoyable.

A Beatles song was playing softly from the radio and Soda sang along softly. (Y/N) smiled as she listened to his voice, her hand still in his. He had always had such a beautiful voice.

Buck's house came into view. Sodapop pulled up right in front and got out of the truck before making his way around to the passenger side. He opened the door and held his hand out.

"Such a gentleman, Pepsi-Cola." (Y/N) smirked as she took his hand and hopped out of the truck. He shut the door and she started walking towards the front of the house, but froze upon realizing that he wasn't following her. She turned back towards the truck and saw he was looking down at his feet. "Soda?"

He looked up at her with a disheartened look in his eyes. "I'm sorry."

(Y/N) was immediately confused. "Soda, what?" She quickly walked back to the truck, taking a stand right in front of him. "What could you possibly be sorry for?"

Soda took a deep breath. "I'm sorry that tonight wasn't as good as it could have been. I wanted it to be perfect."

She couldn't believe her ears. Did Soda really think that the night had been anything but perfect? Had the incident with Two-Bit really affected the night that much?

"Hey," (Y/N) whispered, moving her hands to his cheeks, "tonight was perfect."

He looked at her in disbelief. "C'mon, (Y/N)... you panicked."

"Sodapop." She said, her voice suddenly full of a newfound confidence. "I'm serious. So we had a surprise visit from Two-Bit and the boys! That doesn't matter!" She took her hands away from his cheeks and grabbed his hands instead. "We have to deal with their buffoonery all the time, why should tonight be any different? Honestly, I'm just glad it wasn't Dallas." She looked to the ground. "And as for my... episode... that wasn't your fault. That is never your fault."

"I just wanted bett-"

"Nope!" She interrupted him. "It could not have gone any better, I promise."

He quirked a small smile as he looked into her eyes. "Ya really think so?"

She nodded up at him before dropping his hands and starting to make her way back to the house.

"Wait, (Y/N)." She felt his hand wrap around her wrist and gently tug at her in such a way that she spun around right into his chest, his arm sliding around her waist to make sure she didn't fall. She looked up at him in surprise, their noses just inches from each other. "I just thought of something that might make the night better."

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Is that so?"

His eyes moved from her eyes down to her mouth and back. "Can I kiss you?"

"Oh, Pepsi-Cola," She said, smiling brightly, "you never have to ask to kiss me."

[filmfanaticsblog]

The Greasers dating HCs

Darry Curtis

• Will talk about the most random shit ever with you

• Any money that isn’t to the gang or himself goes to fancy dates and gifts for you

• Very protective (but makes sure you have enough space and don’t feel trapped)

• Gives you massages when you’re stressed / sore

• Always rants about soda and pony and about how proud he is of them

Sodapop Curtis

• Brings you chocolate cake and coke everytime he goes over to your house

• Braids your hair when he’s bored (you taught him)

• He immediately does anything you ask the moment you ask him

• Constantly hugs you from behind

• Steve is always third-wheeling you (although it feels like you’re third-wheeling them cuz they act so gay)

Ponyboy Curtis

• Got dressed up all nice first time he met your parents

• Reads to you so you can fall asleep

• Regularly takes you to the diner to share a milkshake

• Kisses your cheek ALL. THE. TIME.

• Hums Elvis songs to put you to sleep

Johnny Cade

• He was so shy and nervous the first time you guys met

• Falls asleep in the lot with you

• Lets Ponyboy third-wheel you guys (again, you feel like the third wheel because they’re also so gay)

• Makes bracelets with you

• Kisses the back of your hands

Dallas Winston

• Kind of an asshole tbh

• Has a soft spot for you

• Is NEVER the one to say “sorry” first in an argument even if he’s wrong and knows it

• Isn’t into PDA, but is very sweet and affectionate behind closed doors when he feels like it

• Acts like he hates it when you play with his hair (he actually loves the way it feels)

Two-Bit Matthews

• You’re the only one who’s aloud to call him “Keith”

• Steals things for you

• Holds your hand under tables (goals)

• Secretly likes the beatles

• Is nothing but sweet to you

Steve Randle

• Shows you off to the gang

• Always supportive of everything you do

• Kisses you whenever and wherever he wants to

• Lets Soda third-wheel your dates (AGAIN, seems like you’re the third-wheel blah blah already said it twice)

• Holds you by your waist when you hug

[idjitlili]

Billy Hargrove x reader

Idle hands are the devils playground

Summary: Billy hating you and you hating billy. But not really, getting close to you after fake dating. Teasing him , having what is stereotypically a 'girls night'plaiting his hair and painting his nails.

Wordcount: 3385

Warning: language, sex references,  I don't know what this is came to me at 3am. Showering together with clothes on.

A/n: Still pissed at Max, I thought it was a trick her saying she wanted Billy dead like wtf girl, man, if i was vecna you would've be first you little bitch. SORRY. Also , this is the last imagine before I go away Wednesday till late friday for my birthday! So stay safe and I'll be back soon to write bulltrue p2. :) also uk weather is killing me. NOT MY IMAGES

To say the least you hated Billy, you despised him. Oh, but his feelings for you were similar.  Seeing you with Steve every day and those fucking nerds, why would you hang around with them. Why wouldn't you want to be around him? He hated you having a better relationship with Max than he did, even though he didn't try.

Didn't help that he'd see you all the time because you just happened to hangout with Max.  He hated how you could brush him off so easily, no one did that to him.  After the first few tries of flirting with no interest from you he decided he wouldn't be nice anymore. The whole 'he's mean/teasing you because he likes you.' approach. 

If you didn't hate him before you definitely did now. The way he treated the kids, Lucas? For liking his sister? C'mon he was like 12, oh would you rather Max to have no friends? What moves did Lucas have? 'Wanna see my transformers?'  Who almost hits kids with their car and beats them up, you know he's like 5,9 but seriously. You were the kids unofficial babysitter alongside Steve, everyone loves a team up, you heard about everything.

And how many times did he beat up Steve up? Gosh darn, keep it in your pants, Steve is very hot doesn't me Billy had to get his attention like that, just bend over.

Like hell you'd accept a date with Billy after all that shit, should've done diy vasectomy when he was done to be honest when he was down, would've saved a lot of girls. Hell, Billy would even agree he just loves getting his pickle tickled. But he hadn't in a while ever since you were constantly plaguing his mind.

So when Billy had came looking for Max again when you were all hanging out at Steve's house because his parents were never home.  His anger was out of the roof seeing you not only with Steve but with his step sister too.

"Well, well, look who it is. You wouldn't happen to know where Max is, would you?"

Billy stood in front of you leaning on the wall, his face more angsty than usual, whilst his words were playful his tone was not. No charming smile, instead his jaw was clenched hard.

"Wouldn't you like to know, prettyboy." Smiling at Billy purposely trying to rile up him,   standing up straight off the wall, stepping close to you, attempting to intimidate you. He was dangerously close you could feel his breath on you.

"Cut the shit, where is she?"  His words harsh yet no louder than a whisper, grinding his teeth as he spoke. His hand placed above your head on the closed door boxing you in.

"What do I get if I tell you?" Smurk creasing up your face once again. His brows crunching together,  eyes softing on you for a moment.

"Ugh, what do you want?" Billy couldn't deny his interest.

"Well, I want you to my fake boyfriend."  The frown that covered his face previously was replaced with a mischievous grin, that was very interesting to him, sounded like an opportunity.

"And why would I do that?"

"Curiosity. You're going to want it.  You won't be able to resist. You're going to want to know what it tastes like." Leaning in close to him, your breath on his face your tongue drifting out your mouth for a moment licking your upper lip, Billy's eyes locked onto your movements. His mouth gaped slightly.

"But, seeing as you're a good man deep deep down I know that you'd never put me in a position that would compromise my honor, you'll do this without trying anything."  Your fingers dancing over Billy's chest briefly before tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear. His hand gripping around your waist to stop you.

Truthfully there was not a person that ypu were trying to prove or make jealous by fake dating Billy, you just wanted to know if he was really as assholie as he put on. Or maybe yoyr reasons went deeper, Billy was attractive maybe you just wanted to know what it would be like to be his girlfriend without giving into him. Otherwuse you wouldn't ever get chance at having a very attractive boyfriend, you didn't think highly of yourself.

Almost falling on your ass when the door was pulled open, if it wasn't for Billy latched his hand on your other arm, holding you up until you steaded yourself on your feet.

"Y/n, what's taking so long? I thought you had...been kidnapped." Turning your head to see Steve stood at the door, eyes focusing on Billy as his words slowed down when first sight of him.

"Heya, bigboy. Just asking my girl here if Max is here."  Steve's disgusted face turned to Billy to you to Billy to you. Maybe he thought the pet name was just Billy trying to get on your nerves, you both hated eachother too much or it would just lead to sex and that's it not dating yuck.

Billy's hands had long left your arms and now were wrapped your waist pulling you into him your back connected to his chest, his chin rested on your shoulder.  It felt weird to have Billy touching you at all, the smell of salt , mint and vanilla surrounded you. Steve just stared eyes wide, eyebrows raised mouth open before calling for Max. 

It was so unlike you to go for Billy you had displayed nothing but dislike for the guy and Steve even felt hurt but Billy made it believable. That didn't stop your hate for each didn't stop because that, though it wasn't as severe, the both of you did get to know eachother more in the couple of weeks. 

Hell, Billy didn't even get with an girls whilst you were 'dating'. He would hold your hand, or have his arm around your shoulder or touching you someway in public. Openingly admitting you were together, even pecking your cheek. Though, of course both of you had set out ground rules.

Billy wasn't even sure why he had agreed to it, it was stupid, you would tell him why you needed him or did he get anything out of this(other than your lovely company of course).

At first it just included Billy being your personal chauffer to everywhere, him visiting you at family video ( even stealing half your lunch when you were on break sitting on the hood of his car together), taking you to the cinema. Far as you were concerned he was overdoing, you had underestimated him. He was a good boyfriend. He had it all done from the lingering soft touches to the heart eyed smiles. He was a great actor... pfft, sure he was.

Billy had moved out from his dad's house barely a month ago, although the thought of Max being alone with his father frightened him he knew him living close and 'dating' you, if anything was to happen she had someone to go to.  His behaviour, though it was already getting better, had improved dramatically since having his own safe space.  Finding yourself over his house often, you almost felt like the two of you were friends. The teasing however between the two of you never stopped. Really it wasn't teasing it was hardcore flirting.

Often you'd go there because of Max was or looking for her, deep down knowing that was far from the truth. Billy was either working, working out, smoking orbreleasing a little tnesion. Though, he used to Mr popular other than having girls over he was alone a lot. Hell, Max did feel bad for him after you shined a light on some of his issues and causes. Max felt a little guilty, so she started to come to his place. At first he was resistant to her being over but soon, she could come over without a fuss. Slowly , slowly their relationship was repairing and getting better.

Sat on Billy's couch as you watched him lift weights, Max sat close to you eyes set on the tv.

"Nah, mate you couldn't even do a push up with a bag of flour on your back."   You spoke Billy's eyes catching yours, you had been making fun of him the whole afternoon. Placing the weights down, Billy had dropped to the hardwood flooring in planking positok

"Oh yeah? C'mere, Max."

"What?" Max's eyes had shot up to see her shirtless brother on the floor, words panicked as you laughed to yourself.

"On my back, now." shaking her head in resistance. Billy had looked up at her once , his lips in a straight line patience lowering bored with waiting. Sighing Max walked over, you following helping her sit cross legged on her brothers back.

After about twenty push-ups Max had got of Billy's back. "Yeah, we get it." Billy's smirk never left his face he squished down next to you on the couch, his arm wrapped around your shoulder.

"Ew, stop Billy you're all sweaty!" Billy simply let out a low chuckle before throwing his legs over you, which was mostly his skin because his shorts were unbelievable short, trapping you.

Max had left shortly after to meet with the boys leaving you stuck with Billy. Shuffling from Billy's grip, though he doesn't budge instead he pushes you down, back against the seat of sofa. His whole body weight against you, his stubble tickling against your neck, breath hot his sweat sticking to you. Trying to pry him off by pushing his shoulders, his eyes looking back into yours.

Smirk piping up on his face for moment before he attacked your sides, his fingers tickling at your bare skin under your shirt. Squirming under him as air escaped your lungs quickly.

"N-no, p-pl-please!" Your words drawn out as you spoke between the short gaps of your laughs. Billy had grabbed under your legs pulling you close to him, right against him, his finger pressed into your thighs. His freckled cheeks slightly at your close contact but that wasn't because of nerves.Now right below him legs raised over his hips, his face inches from yours, breath hot your skin, his eyelashes fluttering at you as gazed down to your soft lips.

"Y-you smell and you've wiped all your sweat on me." Stuttering over your words slightly, breaking Billy's stare.

"Thanks, babe. You love it really." His voice laced with sarcasm, his hair dagging down. Scoffing at his words as you wiggled around trying to get away from him, only for to hold onto your thighs harder, raising an eyebrow at you warningly.

"No, go shower."

"Nah," squinting his eyes his voice high pitched as he answered you, lifting you from the sofa, giving you no choice but to hold onto him and not crack your head open on the floor. Before you could fully understand what was happening water was running and whilst holding Billy had gotten in the shower, soaking all your clothes. Mouth slightly gapped reacting to the cold water from the shower, Billy grinning at you.

"I said you not me!" Billys gripped still tight on you, eyes staring back into yoyrs, you did the only thing you could think of. Leaning forward you licked the side of his face. Eyes widening for moment as he pulled back from you, he had loosened his grip.

"Did you just lick my face?" He asked you rhetorical. His curls stuck to him weighed down by water, droplets travelling down his tanned chest, his long eyelashes clumped by the water.

"No?" You had defended unsure of your answer, taking the opportunity to slip from Billy's grip and out of shower. Water going everywhere, you had grabbed a towel.

"If you wanted a taste you only had ask." He had teased, now cleaning himself still in his shorts, sneaking glances as you stripped down to your underwear and bra quickly wrapping the towel around you.

"Go get something from my room to wear."

That's exactly what you did, now sat back on the sofa in one of Billy's shirts as Billy got dressed. One of your knees pulled up to your chest as you painted your toenails.

"Hey, since I accidentally soaked all your clothes, are you going to stay the- Oh , sweetheart," He began to talk to you from the hall, Interrupting himself when he saw you, your eyes locking up to him, his pupils dilated as he stared biting his lower lip gently. Heat rushing to your cheeks.

"No, Billy I was going to walk home in your t shirt and that's all. Yes, I'm staying, now order food or cook." Sarcasm dripping from your words, Billy letting a 'shesh' turning his head back at you as he walked to the phone, from the corner of his eyes he looked you, small smirk on his face.

Soon he had ordered and was sat next to you again, deciding to watch st elms fire because you had insisted he was coping Rob Lowe.

"C'mon, Billy! Let me paint your nails, guys especially with long hair look so hot with them. Would drop my pants for David bowie wit-"

Truthfully, when you'd ask Billy to do certain things, even if wanted to( which 99 percent of the time he did.) he'd make you beg before agreeing. He loved to hear that. The last sentence particularly interesting to him. It wasn't unknown to him that he had really grown attached to you over the last weeks.

"Okay, fine." With smile giggle of excitement that made Billy's heart swell, you began your work. Applying one coat of black nail polish to his nails was all that was needed, eyeing your handy work. Billy couldn't help but agree that it look good, but then again he always did.

"You gonna drop your pants now, babe?"

"I did, in the bathroom remember? " scoffing at you in fake annoyance. Glancing up to his face his hair still damp, his face soft still his eyes reaching yours questioning the smirk on your lips, his eyebrows crunching together.

''Sit there." Pointing to the ground in front of you, the words coming out your mouth roughly. "And face the tv, go on." You explained further, Billy didn't argue, his plaid pajama pants against the coat hardwood floor.

The back of your knees sitting on his shoulders, legs over, thighs around his next as your hands ran through his hair. Combing through, tugging a little too hardhly on one lock as Billy let out a low groan, mqking you laugh quietly to yourself. Your fingers parting the hair, working through the hair quikcly as you plaited it.

You were glad you hand brought your polaroid, grabbing it from your bag next you on the sofa snapping a picture of Billy's hair and nails from above together. His hands laid flat against his thighs. Surprised that Billy didn't put up a fight against any of this, he was content. What at home he'd be well, shouted at, told that he's sniveling pussy, or a ponce. Now he didn't have to worry about that. He knew he was hot and his dad looked like he got stepped on at birth so...

"All done, pretty boy." Patting the sofa next to you.He laid across the sofa, his head on your bare lap as he brielfy felt his hair as you handed him the picture. Humming in approval. His eyes hooked on you again.

"Why did you want me to be your fake boyfriend?"

He hadn't asked previously but it had been plaguing his thoughts, that quedtion made your stomach twist upside down, gulping harshly at the thpught of answering. You couldn't not answer. Eyes focused on the tv where St elms fire continued play.

"I-i guess, well, uh-uhm I wanted to know what it would feel like, you know dating someone...someone like you- I mean like you could have anyone you want. Hell, I even reckon you've got Steve pinning after you. I just to see what it would be like even if it is fake." Unsure of yourself as you stumbled over your words. Billy sitting up from your lap, his knee touching yours, eyes studing you.

"I hate that you aren't the asshole you let on to be, I hate that I actually like you amd I hate that you're a good boyfriend. Fuck, you know what, I'm sorry." You explained quickly, cheels hot wirh embarrassment before Billy you could speak you had legged it to the bathroom.

Closing thr door behind you, you grabbed your jeans from hanging over the radiator, trying to ring them out further. So, they would be semi wearable, like you couldn't walk home wearing 40 pound jeans. You couldn't stay any longer, admitting your crush on Billy would haut you forever, the way his eyebrows quirked up in surprise. No doubt he was laughing about it, you felt so stupid. Creaking of floor boards could be heard faintly.

The jeans in your hands were pulled from you and dropped into the tub with a thud. Before you could even process it arms wrapped around your waist tightly, head rested on your shoulder.

"Where do you think you're going?" His words harsh as he spoke slow to emphasis each word, his hair and stubble tickling your skin, heat radiating off him.

"Home?" Sighing at your attempt to answer surely instead came out like question, like you didn't even know what you were doing. Billy's scent had your knees weak intoxicating you. His lips graxing of your neck slowly before gh9sting up to your cheek, pressing his soft lips to there in a peck, breathe knocked out of your lungs for moment before you could inhale deeply.

"Really? Planning to leave in just my shirt? Running off before I can even talk to you? Kinda rude, y/n."

Only gulping to clear your throat, Billy had turned you around to face him, grin twitching on his face as he chewed his lower lip. His hair still pulled back in the plait from early, his pupils dilated, finger tips gliding across your shoulders, to the exposed skin on the neck line of the shirt.

"You have one thing wrong, I can't have anyone I want, I want you. But I understand that you wouldn't want that, you deserve better than me, y/n. I'm just an asshole with shits for brains." Billy explained whilst gripping your shoulders ashamed at himself, that he wasn't like...well wasn't like someone like Steve. Perfect ( beside his basketball skills, why didn't he take his advice).

And before Billy could say more your lips were on his, his hand cupping your face to kiss back roughly. Pulling a way from his lips, his face inches away from yours, his blue eyes staring at you.

"Maybe I should decide what's best for me."

"Mhm, Think so?" Nodding at Billy, opening his mouth to say more the door was knocked and he rushed off to get it not before sending you a toothy grin. Following behind him , the room smelling like food quickly. The food at taken a long time to get here and frankly you had forgotten about it.

"So, wanna continue to be my girl, we've been acting like we were together anyways, not like it wasn' real?"

Truthfully, neither of you ever hated eachother.

[theoutsiders53]

Poor Pony

I dabbed the wet cloth onto Ponyboy’s busted lip. He had gotten into a fight with some kid on the way home from school. He had a small cut on his jaw where the guy had hit him and a cut lip. His nose started to form into a yellow and purple bruise and his knuckles were all busted up.

“You know, maybe you should take Two-Bit’s offer and have him walk home with you.” I told Pony sternly. I absolutely hated it when he got hurt in any way. I’m his girlfriend and it is my job to protect him. He means the world to me and I would never be the same if something happened to him.

“Yeah, maybe.” Ponyboy looked annoyed at the fact I had even brought it up. He was looking to the side of the bathroom door and his eyes were darting side to side. He had mentioned multiple time about how he likes to walk home by himself. I didn’t like it when he gave me attitude though. I took the cloth off of his lip, where I had just patted some of the blood away, and grabbed his chin turning his head to face me. Immediately he locked eyes with me and asked what I was doing.

“Don’t give me attitude Mr. I’m suggesting that maybe you should just walk home with him for a few days. I know you’re tough n’ all but I think it would be a good idea if you just thought about it a little more.” Before Ponyboy could argue with me I leaned in and pressed a small soft kiss to his lips. He moved his face a few inches away, he sighed and placed his forehead on mine.

“I love you.” I said to him, grabbing his bruised hand and putting it on my chest.

“I love you too.” He whispered and put his head on my chest. I placed one of my hands in his hair and started to brush my fingers through it while I played with his fingers that were pressed to my chest with my other hand.

“How ‘bout you take a shower and get cleaned up. Then you and me can snuggle up on the couch and watch somethin’ before everyone else gets home.” Pony nodded and gave me another soft kiss on the lips. He hoped off the sink counter and walked over to the shower. I made my way out of the bathroom and started to make the couch comfy for us to lay on and turned on a good show.

***

I laid on the couch in one of Ponyboy’s bigger T-Shirts and a pair of my short shorts. Ponyboy had just barely walked out of the shower and walked over to me. He had the towel wrapped around his waist and small water droplets dripping down his body. He squatted down and put his head on the arm of the couch. His wet hair stuck to his skin and his eyelashes fluttered up and down.

“You look cute.” I smiled and scooted down a little to get more comfortable. He chuckled and stood up walking down the hall to his room yelling back-“Good! That’s what I was goin’ for!” I smiled and shook my head covering half my face up with the blanket.

Ponyboy came out into the living room with a baggy T-Shirt and a pair of knee length shorts. His hair was still wet but not by much. It looks like he just took a towel and rubbed it around on his hair in an attempt to dry it.

I was laying down and had my knees up. Ponyboy picked up the cover to the blanket we would be using and plopped down right between them. He laid his head down onto my upper stomach and covered us back up. It took a few adjustments but eventually we found the perfect position. I combed my fingers through Ponyboy’s hair and felt him give me a few kisses every few seconds onto the fabric of my shirt. By the time Pony’s hair was dry he was fast asleep, letting small snores escape from his mouth. I took my hand and put it into his cheek rubbing the very noticeable bruise gently and paying very close attention to every small detail. It’s not every day that you get to snuggle up next to a sleepy Ponyboy without someone barging through the door.

“I love you Ponyboy.” I whispered and slowly started to drift into sleep with one hand still in Pony’s hair and the other laying on his chest intertwined with his hand.

[shelbgrey]

Suspicious minds(Sodapop Curtis)

Chapter 5:

Table of contents

"so tell me about Darry" Charry said as we all walked home. Two-bit had stood in between me and Marsha and put his jacket around her.

"what's to tell." pony said. We all stoped and me and Johnny turned to pony and Charry. "he's big and he roofs houses"

"well I feel like I know soda as much as you and y/n talk about him" Charry started. "tell me about Darry is he wild and reckless like soda or is he dreamy like you"

"he ain't like soda and sure isn't like me" pony snapped. Here we go I thought. "he hates me.. I bet he wants to put me in a boys home but soda won't let him"

"what are you talking about Ponyboy?" Two-bit said kinda angry.

"come on pony you guys get along okay" I said. "no we don't! And you be quite because your not wanted at home either" he immediately slapped his hand over his mouth regretting the junk that fell out of his mouth.

"shut your mouth kid!" Two-bit said slapping pony in the back of his head.

"I'm sorry birdie"

"its fine. I know you didn't mean it" I said rubbing his shoulder. Before we could get to far a pair of head lights shined on us.

"marsh we need to go" cherry said grabbing her friends hand. "oh crap" she said huddling up to her friend.

Before I could ask what's going on a pair of socs filed out of their car. Johnny looked down and flinched hiding behind me. "it's the guy with the rings" he hid behind me hiding his face in his back and squeezed my hand tight.

"cherry what are you doing?" he was Clearly drunk and I'm guessing he was the red head's boyfriend. She gave him a scowl.

"I told I'm not going out with you when your drinking and I ment it" she snapped.

"well I doesn't me you should be hanging around with these bums" the other one said. He had dark Curly hair and was why more sober than the other.

"who you calling bums pal?" my brother snapped standing in front of me and Johnny.

"Randy stop" Marsha snapped as she was pulled away from me and Two-bit.

"you looked for a fight?" Bob slurred. I Johnny took my hand and hid behind me. "Keith he's drunk" I said to my brother.

My brother didn't listen and smashed a beer bottle and threw to Pony. "I am looking for a fight."

"knock it off!" Cherry snapped. She turned to her boyfriend. "we'll go with you, okay?"

"why? We aren't scared of these bums" Two-bit said. Cherry snapped her head back at Two-bit. "I hate fights" she whispered. She turned to pony and sadly smiled.

"I wouldn't have used this ya known" he said throwing the piece of glass to the side. It shattered immediately. "I could never hurt anyone really"

--------( ....... )--------

"soda, can we talk?" I asked walking into his bed room. He sat up from his bed with a weak smile. Neither of us had talk since our last little fight. There was tension and hurt between us. "what's wrong birdie?" he asked. I sighed and refused to look him in the eyes.

He tilted his head to the side and slowly slid out of bed and stood in front of me. "hay, what happened?" he asked cupping my cheek and ribbing it with his thumb. "I umm"

"you know you can tell me anything" he said raising my head up so we lock eyes. His ocean eyes made me week and the brightness to them only made it harder to tell him.

"when I went to the drive in with the boys I saw...umm"i stopped myself as my eyes looked everywhere but him.

"you saw what?"

"Sandy kissing all over a soc" I said quickly with my eyes screwed shut ready for him to blow up.

"your lying" he said ripping his head away from me. "no I'm not"

"I know you don't exactly like her, but I never once thought you'd try to break us up."

"I'm telling you the truth" he only scoffed and turned from while he ran his fingers through his greasy hear nervesly.

"So-" "just shut up!" he snapped. I flinched and backed up against the wall. I thought he would hit me like my dad. I know he would never lay a hand on me. His blue eyes soften and he slowly walked towards me. I bit my lip and shook my head.

"just stop" I open the door with ran out ignoring him calling my name.

<Next chapter>

[adorecline]

༺♡༻adorecline's the outsiders masterlist༺♡༻

᧔♡᧓ Ponyboy Curtis ᧔♡᧓

coming soon

᧔♡᧓ Dallas Winston ᧔♡᧓

coming soon

᧔♡᧓ Sodapop Curtis ᧔♡᧓

coming soon

[themotherofhorses]

simon riley x fem!reader

warnings: explicit language. soft smut. breeding kink.

On the continuation of my “Soft!Ghost” ideas: 

Imagine lovemaking with Simon. 

Simon has you—his pretty girl—tucked inside his bedroom, sandwiched between him and the mattress. Right in his arms, where you rightfully belong. 

(In his arms, you’re protected. Safe. Nothing could possibly ever harm you.)

Of course, the intensity of sex differs with his moods. On some days, he is a delicious mix of dominant and aggressive, claiming your body with a certain roughness that reflects how possessive he is over you. But, on other days, all Simon wants is to possess your heart and soul, in some desperate frenzy to stake his claim over them. 

You were made for Simon. In his eyes, that is the truth. How could it not be? Every inch of you—from the curve of your hipbones and the tanalizing way your bottom lip shines with a fresh layer of gloss to how your beautiful, doe eyes twinkle anytime he is near—is all his. You’re irresistible.

And when you lay beneath him, completely bare, ripe for the taking, whining out for his touch, what else could he possibly do than worship you? 

One arm keeps him steadily up, towering over you; the other cradles your soft cheek against his palm. His thumb strokes along your cheekbone. He’s gentle, smiling, even chuckling. “I’ve got you, baby,” he purrs in that deep, hoarse accent. “Shhh, darlin’. C’mon, lemme take care of ya.” 

“ Si…”

Your body stiffens as Simon gently slides himself into your pussy, until he’s buried balls deep; he lets out a breathless “fuck” as you tighten around his cock, followed by a low groan. “Perfect for me, aren’t ya?” He pauses, leaning to kiss you for a moment.

“That’s my good girl,” he mumbles against your lips, letting his tongue entangle with yours. “So fucking good for me.” 

His hips slap against yours at a slow, gentle pace—matching his thrusts. “C’mon, baby, fuck.” You whine in response, arching your back, your hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders while your pretty, teary eyes hold his gaze. 

“ Simon…! ” 

Simon chuckles, takes one of your hands in his, and flattens it against your lower stomach. “Feel that, love?” You gasp, nodding. There is an unmistakable bulge in your belly; you can feel it. “Aye, that’s me.” Your cunt takes him so unbelievably well; he cannot stop pistoning his cock in and out of you. 

God, he thinks, you were made for him.

You were fucking made for me. 

The only thing that could possibly be better than this is—

“Lemme make you a mum,” Simon suddenly says, groaning. “God, baby, need to make you one.” His fingers find your nipple, pinching it before rubbing it back and forth, causing you to squeal. “—make these pretty tits all swollen. You’d be so bloody gorgeous, love.” 

Simon wants a family, so fucking badly. He is beyond desperate for one  — ever since he looked into your eyes for the first time, and saw his future staring back. At the time, the feeling was confusing and disorienting….

…now, it all made sense.

“Yeah?” Mid-thrust, he kisses you again, swallowing your gasps and tiny whimpers as he splits you open on his cock. “You gonna let me make you a mum?” Another thrust. “C’mon, baby, use your words, my girl.” 

You nod, unable to muster up a response to your husband; instead, your mouth falls open—pretty, pink lips dropping into a perfect “o." “P-Please, Si…” your soft, little voice whines out, stirring up more heat in Simon. 

(He loves your voice. So bloody fucking much. You could ask him to raze the Earth to a burnt crisp, and he’d do it for you.) 

“Please what, baby?” 

The sensation of his massive cock overwhelms you. You fall slack as an orgasm rips through your body, robbing away all of your inhibitions; all you can do is let out another high-pitched moan, praying your body gives him the answer that your voice cannot. 

“Fuck — gonna breed you, baby. Gonna have my kid in you by the weekend.”

It’s a promise. His thrusts continue, in the exact same measure as before, not wanting to fuck you, but to make love to you. “You’re so bloody beautiful.” He’s gonna cum. Cum deep inside you; give you the family you deserve.

“Look at ya — bloody work of art.” 

Flushed cheeks; breasts sweaty and heaving with countless love marks scattered around the skin; your fingers card softly through his hair, pulling him closer to you. He’s a lucky bastard, indeed. 

“I love you."

Simon repeats those three words— “I love you. I love you. I love you.” —against your mouth, feeling his entire body tauten before he spills his cum inside you.

I love you. You saved me. You’re everything to me. 

You smile up at him, flushed all prettily, and he flashes a smile back, taking a moment to tuck a damp strand of hair behind your ear. God, he fucking loves you.

“I love you,” he says again…and again…and again.

notes: my attempt at writing smut for the first time in months. if it sucks, it's cause im in my late luteal phase.

[filmfanaticsblog]

Darry and Fem!Reader in highschool oneshot where she comes over for a movie night and gets to cuddle with her bf and hang around with his parents and younger brothers?

Meeting Darry Curtis’ Parents for the First Time (Darry Curtis x fem!reader)

(A/N: thank you so much for the ask KK!!)

word count: 793

You look through the hallways, trying to find your boyfriend, Darry. You find him quickly, with him being almost twice as tall as everyone else. You’re on your way to your last class, science. You hate everyone in there, they’re all too obnoxious. But Darry is in there, who you always whisper to, whether it’s, “What’s the answer to number 4?” or, “You look so good today” or even, “When is your game tonight?”

Today, he seemed a little more excited to talk to you than usual. He quickly walked to you to walk with you to science. “Hey, Y/N? Do you wanna come over tonight for a movie night? My parents and my brothers want to meet you.”

He had talked a lot about his family. Mr. and Mrs. Curtis loved to spend time with their boys. They seemed really sweet. He talked about his younger brothers, Sodapop and Ponyboy, a lot more. He said that they annoy him to death while he’s trying to do his homework, but nonetheless, they were brothers. and they loved each other. And to be fair, Sodapop was 15 and Ponyboy was 12. Soda and Darry have a 3 year age gap, making him 18 years old.

“Yeah sure! That sounds fun.” You respond, “What time do you want me to go over?”

“5:00 should be alright. You should have dinner with us too!”

Now that made you nervous. Sure, having a movie night with his parents made you a little nervous. But dinner? It felt like your heart rate went straight from 80 to 800. But it’s for Darry, do you go ahead and respond with, “Yeah! That sounds great,” trying to hide your anxiety from him.

“You don’t have to be nervous, Y/N. it’ll be alright. They’ll love you.”

You guys enter the science classroom and take your seats, stealing occasional glances at each other for the duration of class.

As the bell rang signaling the end of the day, you hugged and kissed goodbye, and he handed you a small crumpled paper with his address scribbled on it.

4:57PM.

You check the time on your watch, as you get out of your beat-up red pickup. You knock on the door, hoping and praying Darry is the one that opens it. It’s not. It’s Ponyboy.

“You must be Darry’s girlfriend! I’m Ponyboy!” was all Ponyboy could get out before Darry pushed him out of the way and said hi to you. He then took your hand and guided you to the kitchen, where his mother is at the table with Sodapop setting up the table for dinner.

“You must be Y/N! Darry has told us so much about you!” She exclaims excitedly, after she notices you and Darry standing in the doorway.

“Hi, Mrs. Curtis! It’s so nice to meet you. The food smells delicious!”

She smiles at you, thanking you. She then goes back to setting up the table, and Darry guides you to the living room, where Mr. Curtis is sat watching something on the TV. There’s another kid sitting on the ground in a Mickey Mouse shirt. Darry didn’t mention having another sibling..

“Y/N! So nice to finally meet you. Darry talks about you all the time.” You turn to Darry, seeing his face flushed with red.

“Dinner’s ready!” Mrs. Curtis calls, and before she even finished her sentence, Ponyboy and Mickey Mouse kid go running to the table. Mrs. Curtis made (Y/F/F), your favorite! You wonder if Darry told her your favorite food or if it was just a coincidence.

During dinner, questions are thrown at you left and right by Mr. and Mrs. Curtis, Ponyboy, and Sodapop. There were also a few here and there coming from Mickey Mouse kid, who you found out goes by “Two-Bit.”

After dinner, you all go to the living room while Mrs. Curtis cleans some of the dishes. You, Darry, and Sodapop are on the couch, Ponyboy and Two-Bit are on the ground in front of the TV, and Mr. Curtis is in a recliner.

When Mrs. Curtis comes into the living room, she sits in a rocking chair. The boys all debate on which movie to watch, and Darry gets fed up and grabs a random cassette tape from the stack and puts it in.

During the movie, your head is resting on Darry’s shoulder with his arm snaked around your waist and your hand playing with his hair. The movie ended an hour and a half later, and you said your goodbyes to everyone. Darry met you on the porch, saying his parents loved you and that you all should do it again. Now every other Friday, you go over to the Curtis’ and have a movie night with them.

[venusjeon]

angel in the marble

after you fail to pickpocket him, the famous yet arrogant artist Jeon Jungkook takes you off the streets to make you his servant, and the more you know him, the more you realise he's not as detestable as everyone claims he is.

♔ PAIRING: michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader

♔ GENRE: high renaissance au, angst, smut, humour

♔ WORD COUNT: 8k

♔ WARNINGS: homelessness, stealing, mild swearing/violence/drinking, 90% of this is bickering lmao, mentions of minor characters' death, jealousy and kinda possessiveness?, referenced unconsensual groping (not by jk), a bit of blasphemy, making out, groping, fingering, rough angry sexxx, choking, slapping

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: fun fact this is mostly historically accurate! jk's characterisation, the grocery list doodles, the sack of rome, the beef with his brother, the encounter with his rival (raphael)... are all taken from michelangelo's actual life, even some stuff is quoted from his letters lol. man was fanfic material.

1529, Rome

“How much for that one?”

“No, that one’s sold already.”

It was a lively morning. After days of heavy rainfall, those of high social class were eager to get out and meet under the gentle sun of spring, whose glare reflected on the precious stones of their jewellery; while those of low, out of necessity, couldn’t wait to reopen their businesses or set up their stalls and get back to work. You liked to eye them all as you strolled the streets of Rome.

“To whom?”

“Your friend Taehyung.”

“Agh… How much is that prick paying you?”

The point of the matter was that it was bustling, some colliding if they looked away from where they were going for more than a breath. It worked in your favour for it was then easier to make yourself scarce right after stealing bags of coins, such as those of the three men seemingly bargaining by a workshop’s entrance out of which a large block of marble was being dragged. Perfect.

“Three ducats.”

“Three?! He’s robbing you of two ducats. I’ll pay you the five it’s worth.”

You kept your head low as you approached the pair that seemed wealthier and with those stealthy hands of yours unfastened the bags tied to their belts. After all, pickpocketing was a skill you’d had under your own for some years now, so this was bound to go smoothly.

Because you didn’t realise there was a guardian with them, perhaps you’d grown arrogant.

“I’m sorry, maestro. It’s reserved.”

“But it’ll become a waste in his possession!”

As you slipped away into the crowd, mouth watering at the fresh-baked bread you were going to devour as soon as bought, this brown dog leaped up at you out of nowhere, ignoring your desperate efforts to shake him off. If anything, they caused him to bark.

No, no, no…

The three men turned to the scene playing out not so far, and thinking his dog was bothering you one of them shouted, “Bam, come here, boy!” but as he obediently ran to his owner, you were too slow to hide the bags in your hands. It only took the pair a second to make them out, check whether theirs still hung on their belts, find them not, work out you’d stolen them, look back up, and find you not either.

Of course, you’d made your escape by then, dived into the sea of people and swum through them as quickly as possible, only stopping when you reached an empty vaulted alley to catch your breath.

That was ridiculously close. If you weren’t more careful next–

Your train of thought was interrupted by someone grabbing you by the arm from behind and pushing you against the nearest wall. A grunt accompanied the thud, and a gasp followed at the sight of the two men from before—dog included. Pinned in place, it’d be a bad idea to fight back or attempt to run away again. Fuck’s sake.

“Do you know what happens to thieves?” the one cornering you asked so close that when the cold breeze rustled his hair, some strands grazed your face. You looked away to avoid the tickling rather than out of fear, or so you wanted to believe. “They have a hand cut off. Seems fair, doesn’t it, Jimin?”

By contrast, that Jimin didn’t look intimidating, otherwise still catching his breath from the chase, but he did snatch the coin bags from your hands. “It doesn’t have to be so, maestro. We got our money back. She’s… just a girl.”

“And that exempts her of crime?”

“Please, don’t report me,” you begged, humiliating as though it was.

“Why shouldn’t we?” the maestro scoffed. Maestro… You were being threatened by a damned craftsman, the other one probably his assistant.

“Because I don’t want to lose a hand?”

“Oh, but we wanted to lose money, did we?” You rolled your eyes, and he released his grip only to step away. “Take us to your father, brat. He’ll answer for you.”

It took you a moment to respond, “I don’t have a father, or anyone... Only I can answer for my actions.”

“You’re a beggar?” Jimin asked, taking pity as he studied your appearance for the first time. Dishevelled hair, tattered dress, unpleasant smell… Yes, they should’ve guessed.

“She doesn’t beg, though, does she? She steals.”

“Only from cunts.”

His head snapped to meet your glare, and Jimin laughed, “You seem to not know whom you speak to.” He could be Jesus for all you cared. Uninterested, you petted the dog, Bam, seeing as he’d leapt up at you again. “This is Jeon Jungkook.”

You froze. The Jeon Jungkook? The famous artist who painted and sculpted for the Pope? Whom faraway kings and even emperors commissioned? The one whose genius was said to be changing the world?

At the lack of attention, Bam returned to his master, and that snapped you out of your shock to ask, “Then why do you whine?” The two men frowned, having clearly expected an apology paired with the usual bootlicking. “As if you need that bag more than I!”

“What nerve,” he scoffed again, making you wince by grabbing your arm tighter than before and starting to drag you into the next street. “You’re going straight to the authorities!”

“Wait,” Jimin intervened, thank God. “Weren’t you in need of a servant, maestro?”

“So?”

Jimin pointed at you with his gaze as though it was obvious. “You’re in need of a servant, she’s in need of a roof.”

“I would rather have a hand cut off.”

“I would rather have her hand cut off too.”

Jungkook tried to resume dragging you, but Jimin blocked his way with a soft smile. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N…”

“Do you know how to take care of a household?” Slowly, you nodded, melancholy engulfing you at the memory of cooking or sweeping the floor with your mother once upon a time. Somehow, she always found a way to make chores fun... “Then you qualify for the job. You’ll have three meals a day and a bed to sleep on. And you, maestro, a servant who’ll work her hardest, lest you fire her and she ends up in the streets again.”

Both you and Jungkook reluctantly glanced at each other. Truth be told, you didn’t prefer losing a hand to living with him, you just didn’t like him. Despite being a celebrity, he was a stranger. It just wouldn’t work.

But then, why were you holding your breath, hoping he’d accept?

“We shouldn’t have left Namjoon’s workshop. The marble is about to be delivered,” he said walking away. The air left your lungs in disappointment. It seemed you were to remain a stray cat. Jimin pressed his plump lips apologetically as he gave you enough coins to buy that bread, and you nodded, grateful all the same for his trying. You watched him rush to Jungkook’s side but when this one saw him, he turned around. “Hurry up, brat. If Taehyung gets that block of marble, I’ll not take you in.”

Since the first day, you could attest to Jeon Jungkook’s nature being as rough and uncouth as the rumours claimed, and after living alone with him for two months still believed gossip such as that he’d got the scar on his left cheek in a tavern fight—in which, if you’d chanced to be present, you would’ve rooted for the other individual.

It appeared it wasn’t just others Jungkook was harsh to. However rich his talent had turned him, he behaved like a poor man, consuming food and drink sparingly and out of necessity instead of pleasure, spending only the money required to live decently, sleeping little in order to work on commissions from dawn to midnight…

Why he chose to take little care of himself was a mystery to someone who previously had not been allowed a choice, even if putting work before all was in order to thwart Kim Taehyung’s plans of ruining his career, as he claimed. You doubted his rival was obsessed with him so, but had learned to agree with whatever Jungkook grumbled to avoid disputes. Most times.

Deep down, you had a feeling your boldness amused him. Who else dared get on his nerves?

“I think all you artists fluttering around the Pope are no more than slaves to money,” you let drop once while making his bed. Bam was sleeping peacefully under the window, while Jungkook leaning against the door’s frame behind you, offended to the core. He could help, you thought, or at least loosen my corset a little…

“I, a slave? I’ll be damned… There is an angel inside every block of marble, and I’ll have you know I carve to set it free.”

“Is it the angel that charges the Pope, then, master?” You could feel him barely restraining the urge to throw you out the window, smiled as you finished smoothing out the blankets.

“You missed a wrinkle there.”

Hands on your hips and frown on your brows, you examined the neatly arranged coverings of his bed. “Where?”

“On your face,” he muttered before making his leave.

Not his finest jibe, but the metaphor did stay with you. An angel inside the marble… It perhaps applied to Jungkook himself, though you’d never tell him.

One instance it came to mind was recently, when his assistants and apprentices were invited over for dinner.

Usually, he’d tell you which meals he liked and you’d ask at the marketplace which ingredients to buy, but now that about ten meals were to be cooked a list was needed. So there he sat on his desk in his study, inking said list as you waited in front of him, fiddling with the undershirt that peeked out of your dress’ sleeves. Given that your eyes were fixed on it, you only learned Jungkook was done when the sound of his quill scratching the paper ceased.

“Be back no later than dusk,” he ordered, “I bet there are still Germans and Spaniards lurking about.”

A year had passed since the Sack of Rome, but the mention of it sent a shiver of fear down your spine. Whatever the political reasons for it, you hated everyone involved, for Hell itself would’ve been a more beautiful sight to behold those nine months when the Tiber’s waters remained painted red…

You were lucky to make it through. Your family wasn’t.

“Yes, master.”

“Here,” he said handing you the paper, then picked another letter from a pile of correspondence he’d been going through before your arrival. Jungkook was about to snap its wax seal when he looked up to realise you hadn’t moved an inch. “Why are you here? Away with you!” He saw the reason in the way you avoided eye contact. “You can’t read, can you?” Met with a silence charged with embarrassment, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, “Give me the list.”

Getting hold of the quill again, Jungkook began… doodling?

You tilted your head but couldn’t see well what he was drawing until he finished and returned the list to you. Then, your lips parted. Each item on the list was illustrated next to its name: ten loaves of bread, a jug of wine, tortellini, four anchovies, two fennel soups…

“I’ll teach you to read when I have time. This will do for now.”

“You’d do that?” For me?

Jungkook ignored you, before he went back to reading his letters complimenting the good gesture with an irritated, “Hurry up.”

That night his co-workers arrived one by one, Jimin the first. The sight of him when you opened the door brightened up your mood.

Unlike a certain someone he was always sweet to you, genuinely interested to know how you fared even if you were just a servant. He claimed that mattered not to him, that you were both commoners and thus equals.

“Look at this place, it’s spotless! And you know I’m furtive, so I won’t get in your way,” you told Jimin as you escorted him through a hallway, bright from the torches hung on the walls that you’d lit up earlier.

He laughed, “I cannot make you my servant, Y/N, you’re maestro’s.”

“But he’s going to drive me mad… To tell you one of many examples, he often falls asleep in his clothes, and who but I is to take his boots off so they don’t get the sheets dirty? If the chalk on his fingers or the dust from the chiseling on his hair won’t already. Bam is far cleaner…”

Jungkook had a workshop he barely set foot in, preferred his team made use of it instead to not be bothered by their idiocy. His words. So it was in a chamber on the ground floor of this house he gave way to artistic insanity. In your book, that meant constant cleaning.

Jimin looked at you fondly. “Sounds nightmarish.”

“It truly is!”

As soon as the two of you entered the dining hall, Bam ran from Jungkook’s side by the fireplace to Jimin, who was as excited to see him.

“Good night, maes–”

“Do you think I’m deaf, ungrateful brat?” Jungkook interrupted him to bark at you. “Rome is full of people begging to get a piece of me, so if you don’t like it here, I’ll just get someone else!”

“You say that and yet keep me like a prisoner!”

“As if you don’t have it better here than anywhere you’ve burdened with your presence before!”

“There, there…” Jimin interjected to de-escalate, kneeling to better stroke Bam. “Maestro, I’ve seen your latest sketch of the Virgin and Child. She resembles Y/N.”

Both you and Jungkook failed to fight off the embarrassment, gazes unable to find a place to settle. Sitting down on the large table, he explained, “It was just one time… I had used Yoongi as a model, but the Madonna looked too masculine... and rather than going through the trouble of finding some girl and hiring her, I had Y/N pose for me… So what! Why bring it up out of nowhere…”

“Because maybe you just need a bit of distance from time to time. With permission, I too would have Y/N pose for m–”

“Absolutely not.”

“Now, why the hell not?” you groaned stamping your foot, startling poor Bam. Hope had been born inside you in a second and cruelly crushed in the next.

“Because I say so. And watch your tone with me.” As usual, the mutual glaring would trick anyone into thinking the next step would be murder. Jimin, who knelt there awkwardly, certainly thought so, at least until the bell rang. “Now go answer the door!”

What happened later, though, rendered the fury Jungkook had evoked in your heart nonexistent and instead seized the thing in a clasp of distress.

In the morning, he walked in when you were sweeping the kitchen. At once you forced the sobs to stop and turned around so he wouldn’t see you wipe your tears.

“It’s past nine, where’s breakfast?” he asked in shock that you hadn’t even started making it, the table there empty.

You swore under your breath before leaving the broomstick leaning against the nearest wall, flushed face kept out of Jungkook’s sight, then in a haste fetched a plate, a knife, and a leftover bread loaf. “Apologies, master, I forgot. I’ll be upstairs in a minute.”

Sniffling betrayed you, at which Jungkook frowned. “Are you crying?”

Great, the question just about especially designed to make one well up. Not trusting your voice anymore, you shook your head. Jungkook approached, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from the task at hand, now cutting a few slices of the bread.

“Have you broken something?” You shook your head again, the suppressed sobs making your chin tremble. Jungkook took a deep breath before asking with a surprisingly soothing tone, “Then what’s wrong?”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

Within an hour, he’d summoned a meeting consisting of all who’d attended dinner the previous night.

A seemingly calm Jungkook was sat at the head of the table, elbows sunk on it and fingers interlocked. You stood behind him, head still low out of shame. A tense silence had fallen in the chamber some time ago, and sick of it, Jimin shattered it.

“Have you anything to tell us, maestro?”

“I was waiting for Biagio to do so.”

The man was one of Jungkook’s favourite assistants who had worked with him for years, even longer than Jimin. And if it was possible for your position to be trickier, he belonged to some noble family.

“Me? But I’ve nothing to say, maestro.”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair. “My servant will, then. Y/N?”

Bastard. If you are going to fire me, why make me go through this?

“Last night, w-when I left this hall to go refill the wine jug… Messer Biagio followed me into the kitchen, and… h-he trapped me from behind, and started t-to touch me…” Your vision soon blurred, hence why you couldn’t see clearly how concerned Jimin was for you, or how Biagio jumped up in outrage. “I managed to push him away, and ran upst–”

“How dare you slander me, wench? Maestro, you do not believe this!”

“Do I not?”

“She’s lying! I caught her stealing sketches from your study, likely to sell them, so she’s trying to get rid of me!”

You almost scoffed. Only an idiot would choose the one occasion guests had come over and her absence would be noticed to carry out a theft.

Jungkook tilted his head. “I thought you had nothing to say. Why would you keep such a thing just now?”

Biagio gulped. “I deemed it best to mention it later, in private... You won’t believe a pickpocket before an old friend, will you?”

Silence returned, your breath still as you saw all the assistants and apprentices visibly take pity on him. The only one who didn’t was Jimin, but even on his face there was a hint of hesitation. Jungkook’s, you couldn’t see from behind, but after an eternity he stood up and walked over only to put a hand on the shoulder of Biagio, who smiled in relief.

A quiet sob broke through your lips, heart sinking. You’d needed Jungkook to believe you in this. Not because of the consequences his protection as your master could save you from, but because, like it or not… he was the closest thing to family you had.

It turned out he did believe you, judging by the punch landed on Biagio’s jaw out of nowhere. And the next one on his cheekbone, and on his nose. Before everyone around the table had barely stood up to stop Jungkook, he’d already thrown Biagio down and straddled him, pulling his doublet’s collar in a close, tight grip as he continued beating him up. Blood was drawn, but for once, you didn’t mind having to scrub it later.

Jungkook’s influence trumped a whole noble house’s, you learned in the course of the months Biagio tried his mightiest and failed most miserably to have him arrested. Perhaps because of the Pope sitting on his shoulder.

That he’d taken your side was still hard to believe, all he’d grumbled with a shrug when you thanked him while tending to his wounds from the fight being, “I’d been waiting for the chance. I always thought Biagio was a weasel.”

With the matter resolved, life returned to normal—well, whatever that meant in Jeon Jungkook’s household. Because calling for you at the top of his lungs like a madman was not normal. The first time he’d done it you’d raced downstairs, afraid something horrible had happened, only for him to have you close a window as it was getting chilly. Devil rot him. You rushed no longer after that, much to his complaints.

Today, he didn’t notice right away when you appeared under the cased opening, and good thing he didn’t, for he was polishing a bust with sandpaper… shirtless.

Product of hours carving stone into his desired shape or occasionally beating someone up, he could brag of having muscles, which the current task had covered in a layer of sweat and dust. The way they flexed with each movement had you compelled, wanting to reach out, feel if his skin was as hot as the blood pumping through your veins faster and faster. Then your gaze moved to the bust and whatever spell you were under broke.

Hardly an angel was that widowed noblewoman, whom you wished had stayed trapped inside a block of marble. Her name was Madonna Maddalena, and she’d come some weeks past to make a commission covered in pearls, gold, and boldness.

“My friends refused to accompany me today. You’re said to be… disagreeable, which I’m sure is untrue. However, all of them do want to know if you’re as fine-looking as is also rumoured, maestro” she told Jungkook within minutes of meeting him, still by the entrance!

Now you can tell them he’s not, you bit your tongue before it remarked, as this wasn’t Jimin but a patron not to be scared away by your bickering. It wouldn’t be true anyway. All your master lacked in manners, he made up for with looks… Which you’d never say out loud. You’d never say either that he looked even better when irked.

“I’ve heard many rumours about myself, most of them nonsense. My appearance was involved in none.”

She smiled seductively. “I suppose I’ll have to be the one to spread them.”

“The weather is pleasant today,” Jungkook changed the subject, flustered beneath the formal demeanour. “Shall we have wine in the garden?” You left to prepare it not before catching Maddalena raise her brow at you in disapproval. She must’ve been able to tell you thought she was a pompous cunt.

The beautiful flowers you cared for tried their best outside, but the air didn’t get any better.

Sat around a small table, Maddalena explained she wanted a bust of herself by his talented hand to decorate the main hall of her palazzo. You served them wine, not really listening until Jungkook started playing hard to get. The hundred times you’d told him it wasn’t a good tactic to make his labour out to be too prestigious had apparently fallen on deaf ears.

“Any other artist could carry this out, Madonna. I am working for the Pope these days…” he subtly scolded her, a mere mortal, for wasting his precious time. And he wondered why he had a reputation for being arrogant.

Maddalena put his thoughts into plain words, “So why should you stoop to taking commissions from an insignificant widow?”

“Correct,” you said under your breath, luckily heard by none from the background, where you stood holding a wine jug until the madonna raised her cup and you approached to refill it.

“It is then fortunate I’m to marry a nephew of the Pope’s.”

Swayed by her future influence, Jungkook smiled back. “So it is.”

“But not for another week. ‘Till then, I belong to no man.” The suggestion in her tone almost drove you to spill wine all over her. No, better yet: order Bam to sic on her. He’d do it.

Just, who did this woman think she was? And why did Jungkook not kick her out right afterwards? It made you wonder whether he’d enjoyed the flirtation. Whether he would’ve been the one to take things further had his inconvenient servant not been present. It was common for men to have affairs and lovers, but it didn’t sit well with you that Jungkook might. Not that you ever imagined him doing any of that, for goodness’ sake–

“What took you so long?”

Jungkook’s voice brought you back to the present, under the cased opening.

“I was lazing about, as always,” you quoted his favourite false reprimand, making him roll his eyes, your own dropping to the floor when he walked closer.

“In that case, prepare a bath for me.”

“Yes, master.”

You sighed at all the work ahead. That being a servant was worlds better than living in the streets didn’t mean you looked forward to collecting gallons of water from a well, carrying them back, heating them, transferring them to a tub, then washing Jungkook—because you did wash him.

Biagio had hurt his left shoulder bad and ever since, he’d needed assistance in certain activities. Curious how he could otherwise chisel a goddamned bust without problem.

Jungkook’s full nudity only made you blush if you stopped scrubbing, so knelt with tucked up sleeves before the wooden tub he was reclined on, scrubbing away the dirt on his skin with lavender-scented soap you were. Maybe all the stupid feelings you’d been suffering lately stemmed from there…

Head resting on the edge, he was exhausted from the long day of work, taking your rubbing as a relaxing massage. You, however, couldn’t ignore the stinging guilt, what with the scar on his shoulder right in front of your face. He probably felt your breathing on it.

“I’m sorry you got hurt…”

Jungkook fought heavy lids only to see you avoid him. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable in front of him was embarrassing, as when he’d caught you crying, but he didn’t take advantage of the fact to humiliate you. Jungkook may be an ogre, but he wasn’t cruel.

“I’ve received worse for less,” he assured you in a calm, low voice. It sounded soothing to your ears.

“That, I don’t doubt,” you scoffed, glancing at his other scar on the cheek. “Did you also get that one in defence of some lady?”

“You’re nowhere close to a lady.” It could be done, you mused. Drowning him. “This was courtesy of my brother.”

“You have a brother?” It dawned on you how little you knew of him. Surely, most had heard it all about the divine Jeon Jungkook, but you’d never cared enough to learn past the shell of gossip, even after months of living with him. In fairness, he’d never asked about you either. You preferred it that way.

“Brothers,” he corrected you. “The one who did this to me was a wayward fool. Had to teach him a lesson.”

“Looks like he taught one to you.”

“I left with a scratch, he with a limp.” The conception of two brothers hurting each other so harshly widened your eyes for a second, and Jungkook noticed, for he added, “He was whoring around, wasting the money I worked hard to send, bullying our other brothers as well.”

Much made sense about Jungkook all of a sudden. Not his personality, that was incomprehensible. But why he killed himself to earn money and yet barely spent it… He had a family to provide for. Once again, you were reminded of his metaphor. Could an angel be in there?

Carrying on washing Jungkook, you dragged the sponge over to his neck. Then his collarbones, his chest, his abs just peaking above the water... They did look like a sculpture’s, especially wet and soaped, reminiscent of polished marble when the light of the torches reflected on them. Swallowing hard, the back of your fingers gingerly graced Jungkook’s muscles, both soft and firm. Slippery. Whatever possessed you to keep feeling them, you lacked the will to expel from your body, and so without realising your grip on the sponge loosened until it fell to float away, fingertips now free to roam over his abs.

You were slowly trailing downwards, past the water’s surface, when your wrist was seized and held in the air in a warning manner, the startle almost making you scream.

Sat upright, Jungkook was glaring at you so fiercely you feared for your life. But he didn’t say anything and instead just breathed hard, jaw clenched… almost as if he was holding back. Your rising heartbeat was deafening in the silence waiting for something to happen, anything, but what did wasn’t what a side of you anticipated with excitement.

Jungkook just let go of your wrist and returned to his previous position, and you got hold of the sponge and finished washing him, albeit holding your breath the entire time.

Days later, you came dangerously close to being fired.

The Pope had summoned Jungkook—something about a portrait commission—and you were to carry his bag filled with sketches for him due to his shoulder injury. As you navigated the ever-busy streets of Rome with him, the cold autumn breeze made you regret not putting on an overgown. The cioppa you’d bought with your own salary and not stolen. It brought a smile to your lips that faded at the realisation your mother would’ve reminded you to put it on before going out.

The sorrow pestering you turned to confusion when Jungkook stopped walking and tsked, telling you loud enough to be heard by all, “Look at him, the chief of police, with such an assemblage.”

A well-dressed man and what appeared to be his entourage walked in your direction, halting near enough. You didn’t have to ask to know this was his rival, the renowned painter Kim Taehyung.

“Whereas you, like an executioner, walk alone,” he mocked Jungkook, then noticed you standing behind him like a timid child. “Not completely, my mistake. Maestro, where in your barren soil did you plant such a flower?” He walked over to you, intentionally bumping Jungkook’s wounded shoulder as he passed, causing him to grunt lowly. From up close one was bound to marvel at how handsome Taehyung was, but you didn’t need proximity to tell he was a prick. Miles away, you would’ve known. “Why don’t you come work for me, flower? I’ll make you my muse.”

Jungkook scoffed again, “What, for your horseshit paintings? She’d be a fool to.”

Taehyung turned around to face him, feigning confusion with a smile. “But, maestro, how could they be so if you were once heard saying that all I have in art, I got from you?”

"You naturally have to resort to plagiarising my master’s genius if all you do is horseshit,” you countered, earning surprised looks from every man present, some laughs too, you were proud to say. Jungkook was certainly smirking. Taehyung opened his mouth, but you walked past him uninterested before a response came out of it.

“Good girl,” Jungkook laughed while leaving the crime scene, and for some reason your cheeks burned hot.

The incident happened once inside the Vatican.

Its grandiose corridors alone made you feel small, too unimportant to walk them, whereas Jungkook did so with determination, knowing he belonged at the top of the world. What with your tempestuous relationship, it was easy to forget he was famous throughout Europe. His feet would still never be kissed by you. Someone had to humble the man, right?

At some point the two of you arrived at a door flanked by guards, and averse, you grabbed the sleeve of Jungkook’s doublet.

“Do I have to go in?”

“Too good for the Pope, are you?” He shook you off. “Come on.”

“Damn you…” you muttered.

“What did you just say to me?”

“After you, master.”

Telling himself he’d be late if he scolded you, Jungkook turned and nodded at the guards, who opened the door of a chamber whose walls were frescoed with angels and saints, likely by Taehyung, giving off the impression one was in Heaven. When you saw him sat on a golden chair, old and grey, enjoying the tune of a lute player, you felt as though you’d just entered Hell.

The audience lasted for ever. While you stood by the door, Jungkook showed the Pope some sketches of the portrait for him to choose his favourite and then they talked and talked of politics. All you could do was fix your gaze somewhere on the floor and sigh.

“Yes, Your Holiness, this is the servant I mentioned…” A frown proceeded your looking up to see Jungkook somewhat embarrassed, scratching his nose as if to hide his face. He talked of you to others? Doubtless to complain…

With a sweet voice as if he was talking to a little girl, the Pope asked you, “What is your name?”

“None of your business, Your Holiness.”

The musician’s tune ceased abruptly, allowing Jungkook’s faint gasp to be heard. Then fell a short silence spent by the Pope blinking, taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”

Jungkook was quick to fake a laugh, though sweat formed at his temples. “A jest! She meant no offence, Your Holiness, but to make you laugh.”

You held the Pope’s glare in defiance, indifferent to the fact he was the most powerful man in the whole of Christendom.

By some miracle, he let it go, and you left that chamber minutes later with your head as yet attached to your body. Your arm wouldn’t be for much longer, though, given Jungkook was forcibly dragging you all the way out to the streets, pushing you into the first alley he saw.

“Are you out of your mind?!” he shouted, towering over you menacingly. Unlike the day you’d met, you weren’t scared, rather furious as him as you stood your ground. “That was the Pope, you fool!”

“So?”

Jungkook was in utter disbelief. “He could’ve ordered your execution– mine too!”

“Well, nothing happened!”

“Nothing?! I’m sure to fall out of favour!” He paced around, anxiety quickening his breath. “Years of pouring my soul into my craft, of grovelling before the right people, all thrown away! Good God, your attitude may cost me everything…”

“And what about me?! Everything lost to me does not matter?!”

Jungkook stopped to frown. “What the hell are you talking about?”

It was now you who walked up to him. “I didn’t have a job, or a reputation, or admirers. I had only a family, and I never wished for anything else! That monster you work for took them from me. When the foreigners’ armies came and everyone rushed to Castel Sant’Angelo, he gave the order to close the gates as soon as he was safe behind them! You must have been there with him, weren’t you? Well, we weren’t. We were left outside to be slaughtered. And I wish I had been, like my parents, so I didn’t have to suffer the likes of you any longer!”

Tears were streaming down your face by the end, Jungkook just staring back at you. It didn’t surprise him that your parents were dead or that they’d been killed during the Sack, but that it was so deep a wound left festering in your heart that you didn’t mind being put out of misery. He surmised your disrespectful behaviour towards him was also fruit of your pain, especially if you deemed him an ally of the one who caused it.

“The few things I own… They’re wasted on me. Throw them away or give them to your next servant,” you sobbed, taking for granted you were fired. Anyone with half a brain would indeed have you dismissed, and part of you knew it was bound to happen, that you would go back to breaking in fucking churches to spend the night.

So you turned around into the main street, set on wandering until your legs became too sore not to collapse. With any luck, a carriage would run over you. But warmth then surrounded your hand, and you looked down to see Jungkook’s holding it tight enough to force you to halt. Though still mad, a hint of compassion sparkled in his eyes.

“Let’s… Let us just go home.”

Home. His house had felt so for a while now, truth be told. Himself too.

After that, you non-verbally agreed on a ceasefire—avoiding quarrels, that is, which was quite the task for both.

Such as now that Jungkook had you inking down a letter in his name. First of all, did you look like a scribe? If you’d known in advance the lazy arse would teach you to read and write for this, you’d have chosen to remain illiterate. And second, this was your short break before making dinner, intended to be spent playing with Bam. The poor thing was also in the study, at least being stroked by his owner, who was sat beside you on the desk.

“… I send you my regards, may God keep you from all harm. Jeon Jungkook in Rome,” he finally finished dictating, and you recording. “Give it to me, I’ll seal it.”

He was melting the wax with which to do so when the bell rang, to his surprise. Sighing, you stood up and went to open the door to whom turned out to be Jimin. The sight of him brightened you up, and yours stretched his lips into a smile.

“Evening, Y/N.”

“Good evening! I didn’t know the master was expecting you.”

“He isn’t…” You welcomed him in, brows joining at how he continuously chewed on his aforementioned lip and breathed deep through his nose as he followed you. Had something happened…? A decision to eavesdrop was made en route to the study.

Though Jimin requested for you to stay once there, and nothing could have prepared you for the reason why.

“This actually concerns Y/N…” You and Jungkook exchanged confused looks, him leaning against the desk and crossing arms as though he didn’t like the sound of that. Jimin fixed his already perfect clothes before addressing him, “I’ve come to ask for her hand in marriage.” Your jaw dropped. “I know it’s sudden at the lack of previous courtship, but I thought I should ask for your permission before engaging in it, maestro. She’s a lovely girl… and I think she’d be happy as my wife. Worry not, I won’t ask for a dowry or for her to stop working… Although on second thought, fewer hours of service would be ideal.”

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be happening.

Jungkook must be thinking the same, for he squinted to ask, “Are you drunk?”

“N-No, of course not.”

“Are you sure? You want to marry a servant with little to her name.” He had a point, so you weren’t offended. If politics weren’t the reason for a union, did this mean… Jimin had feelings for you?

“Maestro, you say it as if I were a lord,” he chuckled. “I don’t care about Y/N’s possessions, I’ll provide for her anyway. I’ve… always been fond of her. And I dare say she shares the sentiment.”

Betrayal hid safely behind a look that asked if there was any truth to that. Obviously not! There was no romance in your own fondness for Jimin. If anything, you had thought he saw you as a younger sister to look after, therefore as a protective older brother you saw him. But so shocked were you still that no words managed to come out, and Jungkook’s gaze shifted back to Jimin.

“I’ll think about it. You may go.”

A curt tone was the norm for Jungkook, it was not being granted his blessing that disappointed Jimin. He knew for a fact he was an honourable man, so why wouldn't he entrust you to him?

“Quite well… I’ll show myself out.” he uttered, before making his leave failing to hide his low spirit by giving you one last shy smile you hadn’t the heart to return.

An awkward silence filled the air that even Bam daren’t break. Only once the front door was heard shutting did you walk closer to Jungkook.

“You won’t agree to this, will you?”

“Why shouldn’t I? I have to get rid of you at some point.”

“Rid of me? Like I’m a burden?” you asked, voice rising. How a servant could be so was unknown to you until, like wooden ship toys did when you’d submerge them in a bucket of water as a child, certain guesses surfaced in your thoughts. Trying to pickpocket him, the constant clashing, Biagio, that bath, the Pope… Yes, you may perhaps be described as a burden. But you didn’t want to leave. With a calmer tone, you pleaded, “I’ll behave from now on. I won’t cause any more trouble, I swear.”

Jungkook didn’t deign to look your way as he left, followed by Bam. “You have to marry at some point, Y/N. Otherwise people will gossip.”

Since when did he care about what people said of him? And why should you?

Winter having dropped its anchor, nightfall arrived early. Not early enough, you brooded as you cooked dinner, longing for the day to end once and for all. With any hope, all of this was a nightmare and upon waking up in the morning life would go back to normal. You didn’t even know why you wanted to stay with Jungkook, as the occasions in which you’d begged Jimin to employ you to leave this house were countless. The only certain thing was that you were upset.

Later, after washing all plates and cups, you began to put off all torches lighting the house, finding out in the hall that Jungkook hadn’t moved from the seat he’d dined in. You considered carrying on with your job and leaving him in the dark, but he wouldn’t find it as funny. Instead, you stood before him.

“Will that be all, master?”

The coldness in your expression made him sigh, “Y/N–”

“I shall retire, then.” You turned to leave but were made to stop in your tracks.

“It’s an advantageous proposal for you,” he lectured to whom he must believe an idiot. “Jimin works for me, he’s wealthy. A better match than you could ever aspire to. And he asks for no dowry because he doesn’t want money, he wants you…” His words were tainted with resentment. “He’ll take good care of you.”

Skirt of your dress swirling along, you faked a smile. “If you think so, master, then it must be so.”

He shook his head as he leaned back in defeat. “Suit yourself, but I won’t be the one to reject Jimin. You crush his heart.”

A laugh escaped you. “If you genuinely cared about him, you wouldn’t let him marry a woman in love with–” Oh no. It only hit you as you were saying it.

Jungkook had appeared annoyed, but now he was mad. “Who?” He stood up abruptly—chair’s feet scratching against the floor making you wince—and walked so close you were backed against the wall, face forced to turn to a side. In a low, deep voice, he repeated, less as a question and more as an order this time, “Who.”

There was no way in the nine circles of Hell you’d say it, when you didn’t want to believe it in the first place. For fuck’s sake, why? Jungkook only ever made you want to get away from him. That was the case right now, but then… why were your feet frozen?

Some unreasonable part of you seemed to have prevailed upon the others, casting away all resistance from your body and allowing yourself to indulge in Jungkook’s proximity. You met his eyes without fear, held his dark gaze. It didn’t take him long to work it out, yet he kept close, so close your unsteady breaths mingled, the effect akin to intoxication. He was visibly trying to hold back, telling himself it’d be a bad idea, but you prayed he wouldn’t care.

By God or the Devil, your prayers were heard.

Jungkook finally smashed his lips into yours, devouring them with a hunger you shared and felt growing as he gripped your waist to press you against him. A minute ago, you wouldn’t have imagined his tongue belonged inside your mouth, swirling around your own, and now you wanted it all over your body. As if reading your mind, Jungkook broke the ardent kiss to move down to your neck, which he licked painfully slowly before sucking hard, making you hiss with pleasure. He knew that would leave a mark, the bastard. You wondered if it was meant for Jimin, so he’d see you were Jungkook’s, and in such case you didn’t mind, let your eyelids close to enjoy it.

Steered by the lust possessing you, one hand grabbed his soft hair in a fistful, keeping his head in place where he was sweetly abusing your neck, while the other travelled southwards until it reached his crotch and held it over the trousers, feeling his cock stiffen. Jungkook groaned—a vibration to your skin—in retaliation lifting your skirt. You’d thought he'd take his time, tease you, but after ensuring you were wet enough by gliding his middle finger along your core, he slid it inside and began making beckoning motions.

“Master…” you moaned, legs shaking. Jungkook forsook your neck to pull back, watch how you struggled to keep it together as he added another finger, curling and uncurling them both, hitting all the right places, and unwilling to give him that satisfaction without consequences you groped his erection with the same vigour. Although he was in good control of his expression, his breath quivered against your lips, so he kissed them again, biting hard into your lower one.

He exhaled, “You’re driving me to sin…”

Indeed, the same fingers that held the brushes when he painted religious artwork were buried deep inside your cunt, bringing you the most sinful ecstasy. It made you chuckle. Jungkook took that as the mockery it was and, crossed, pulled his fingers out of you to drag you by the arm to the edge of the table, where he had you sit. Without delay he lifted your skirt again, only this time he also pulled down his trousers to reveal his cock, thick and throbbing, which he pumped as he watched you spread your legs eagerly, ready to take all of him.

With his free hand Jungkook cupped your cheek, thumb caressing your lower lip, coated with saliva and reddened still from when he’d bit it. He could sense your desire, that you craved him inside, had for a while. Desperately. And however much tempted he was to make you beg for it, his own arousal led his cock to your entrance and eased it inside already, another groan hitting the back of his bared teeth. You didn’t have time to gasp, his thrusts so quick they earned only moans, so wonderful did it feel.

Jungkook’s hand on your cheek then wrapped around your neck. “Do you know how often I’ve fantasised strangling you?”

You chuckled again as you slapped him across the face. Jungkook halted his movements in shock, glared at you. “And I slapping you?”

It took him a moment, but he scoffed and pushed you back so that you were lying down, climbing next atop you, confident that the wooden table was sturdy enough to hold both. So legs hooked around his torso and arms around his neck, you welcomed his thrusts, rough enough to make your eyes water. But it felt heavenly, how he ravished you... The mutual irritation and tension building up for over half a year translated into indescribable pleasure.

He kissed you again, flicking his tongue against yours as he pounded into you without mercy. Overwhelmed by the sensation, all you could do to express you were nearing your limit was sink your nails into Jungkook’s biceps at each side of you, moan inside his mouth. He took the hint and fucked you as fast as his body would allow, within mere seconds your walls clenching tight around him. The sight of you collapsing under him, overcome with bliss, made him reach his own highest shortly, spurting his warm seed inside you.

As his movements gradually ceased, so did your panting. Before a complete silence fell, you asked, “Am I still to marry Jimin?”

Jungkook grabbed your face and growled against your pouted lips, “You’re not going anywhere.”

[2hightocare]

DOWN BAD! 03

Synopsis: Despite undeniable chemistry, your guys’ relationship remains undefined, caught between playful teasing to deeper, unspoken longing.

Pairings: bad boy! jungkook x fem! reader

Genres: college au. slowburn!

Warnings: drugs. mention of abuse, abusive household, fighting, screaming, crying, reader is down bad.. unprotected sex, reader is a virgin, making out, throwing up, fluff if you kinda squint, love confession, angst, banter between them both, cussing, Jungkook sucks at showing his feelings, complicated relationship, flashbacks.

a/n: hi.. sorry this took longer to put out but finals week is here— but here🥳 i recommend reading the first parts before this for it to make more sense k bye bye🤍

01 02 playlist board

The aching feeling in your chest didn’t disappear; it only increased the more you cried. Your palm clawed your chest, soothing over your clothes as if it would help lessen the pain. Your heart felt like it was getting repeatedly run over by a train. Each time you would gasp for air, another heartbreaking sob came flowing out of your mouth. It was crazy how down bad you are over this boy.

Seeing the person you love the most lose themselves to drugs was the most heart-wrenching pain you have ever experienced. The worst thing was you were losing yourself over him.

“I want a big house, with all that white picket fence shit,” you say, your hands playing with his hair as he melts into your touch.

“Not happening, baby,” he chuckles, his hand on your waist squeezing. “And I want a ring the size of my fist,” you ignore him, extending a hand out, imagining how a ring would look on your ring finger. “We’re not getting married or getting a house,” he rasps out, a hint of amusement displayed on his face matching yours.

“I think we should get a dog as well, don’t you think?” You continue, making him throw his head back with a laugh. “There would be no dog, and house, baby. Because I will be in jail after trying to rob a bank to pay for your big-ass ring,” Jungkook states, tilting his head to the side to drop a kiss on your cheek, the gesture sending your heartbeat skyrocketing in your chest.

“So you do want to get married!?” You jest happily, tugging on his hair playfully, making him let out a low groan before shaking his head, laughing. His laugh was one of your favorite sounds in the world.

The memory was like a punch into your gut, over and over again without stopping. Him leaving you on the floor of your room crying keeps replaying in your mind. The thought of him actually leaving never crossed your mind until now. He always comes back, you thought to yourself as you pick yourself up from the ground. Your knees weaken as another cry rakes through your body as you drop onto your bed face down.

As much as you wanted to run after him, you knew better not to. Your self-respect was hanging by a thread, and you were scared of what you would do if you see him at this very moment. The thought of you on your knees begging him to change burned in your mind.

You knew love shouldn’t be this hard, but that didn’t stop your mind from trying to convince you otherwise. Memories of him started circulating around your head, sending a strong shot of pain to spread through your body. You try your best to control your sobs, but it is almost useless as sixteen-year-old Jungkook appears in your mind.

“Hi,” you quip, skipping towards him.

“Hi,” he says, the edge of his mouth lifting into a smirk. “Finally, I see you again. You aren't in my homeroom.” You pout, noticing how his eyes go from your eyes to your lips to your body. “That's good, no? I wouldn't want to be a distraction.” He flirts almost nonchalantly, which sends a swarm of butterflies to flap around your stomach. You bite your lip before crossing your legs.

“Do you always flirt with every woman that comes up to you?” You tilt your head to the side, letting your hair fall beautifully over your shoulders, making Jungkook admire.

“Nah, only with cute girls I met on the first day of school in the front office after she got in a fight with someone for ripping holes in her tights,” Jungkook shrugs. You smile as you look him up and down. His hair is messy but not so messy that it looked like he got in a fight. His uniform fitted his body perfectly, making you jealous that girls got to look at him. His tie was tied neatly around his neck—but your mind was playing tricks with you as you imagined him using his tie in other ways that weren't exactly appropriate, but that's what reading Wattpad did to a girl.

“Is that so?” you chuckle as you watch him nod.

“What's your type?” he asks, catching you off guard. Your hands play with the hem of your skirt. “Dimples, brown eyes...” You tap your chin as you playfully look up as if you were thinking. “I like them tall as well. How tall are you?” you ask him, pointing at him, waiting for his reply. “Five ten,” he replies casually, amusement clear in his eyes.

“Yeah, I like them five ten.”

You felt as if you had a ball stuck in your throat. The more you tried to calm down, another batch of fresh tears pooled down your eyes. Your eyes were bloodshot, tears mixed with your mascara leaving streaks of black all over your cheeks. Before you knew it, you fell asleep with a broken heart.

Jungkook's hand shakes as he lights up the cigarette between his lips, his body craving the drugs. Instead of running to his dealer's house, he imagines your distraught face. He takes a large puff from the stick, letting it fill his lungs, but it's not enough. His tattooed hand tugs on his hair-body shaking, which he would like to think is from the cold, trying to ignore the fact he's going through withdrawals.

He didn't dare go home; he couldn't face his mom. He knew he would lose his mind if he saw another bruise decorating her skin. Another chill ran down his spine as he exhaled. His muscles ached, and sweat started to form on his forehead. The feeling of wanting to throw up was almost unbearable. Before he knew it, he was puking over a bush. He couldn't catch his breath before another roar of vomit came rushing out of him.

"It's fine," Jungkook repeated under his breath. Before he knew it, his feet moved towards the only person who could help him.

"You look like shit, buddy," Yoongi chuckles. "The regular?" He raised an eyebrow, and Jungkook nodded eagerly, his hands shaking as he watched Yoongi pull out a small bag of white circular pills-oxycodone.

"Here." Yoongi shoved the bag into Jungkook's hand, harshly taking the dollar bills from him and counting them.

"Thanks," Jungkook nodded, his feet moving to the door before stopping abruptly.

"That pretty girl that's always running behind you, that's your girl?" Yoongi says, licking a piece of paper with his tongue before rolling it up into a perfect small joint. Jungkook's body stiffened; he didn't like the fact that Yoongi knew who you were and that he mentioned you as pretty sent a chill down his body.

"Nah, she's just someone I know from school," Jungkook says, his voice stoical, showing zero emotion as he lies through his teeth. "Why?" Jungkook added a couple of seconds later. A small smirk appeared on Yoongi's face.

"She came looking for me," Yoongi starts, placing the rolled-up paper between his lips while his other hand uses a lighter to light it up. He blows a couple of times before he takes a hit, letting it fill his airways.

"She told me she'd give me a shit ton of money if I stop selling to you." Yoongi chuckles the words out, making Jungkook's throat close up and his lungs stop working.

"She also told me to go 'fuck myself," Yoongi mocks you in a high-pitched voice before bursting into laughter. "She's fucking bad, though. She had this tiny ass skirt-and her tits, man-" Yoongi whistles lowly.

Before Jungkook knew it, he was striding towards Yoongi, yanking the joint out of his mouth and throwing it somewhere around the room. Jungkook's hands gripped both sides of Yoongi's shirt, pulling him upwards from the couch.

"Don't. Fucking. Talk. About. Her," Jungkook seethes, his jaw clenched as Yoongi lets out a surprised gasp.

"Don't even fucking look at her." Jungkook shakes Yoongi. "The fuck is wrong with you?" Yoongi pushes Jungkook off. The smirk he always had plastered on his face is long gone, replaced by a shocked expression.

"Listen here, whatever the fuck I got to do with you has nothing to do with her. I don't give a single fuck if she came up to you. Next time you ever see her, don't even glance her way, don't even breathe near her. Because I promise you l will fucking kill you. I'm not scared of jail." Jungkook growls before pushing Yoongi back onto the couch.

Before he could reply, Jungkook strode for the door and slammed it shut.

Jungkook's heart rapidly beats in his chest. The adrenaline and anger fueling his body has him cursing under his breath. As much as Jungkook wanted to punch Yoongi straight in the jaw, he knew things wouldn't end well. So instead, he walked straight to the house where he knew was the last place he should go.

It was almost five in the morning when a small sound woke you from your sleep. Your head pounded, and your body and heart felt numb. You rubbed your eyes tiredly, blinking fast as you caught a shadow outside your window. Immediately, you shot up from your bed.

Your heart started again as you rushed to open the window. With a small gasp, you pulled the boy inside your room.

“You’re here! Are you okay?” You took hold of his face, checking him frantically. “Look at me.” You grabbed his face and made him look at you. His eyes bored into yours—the small glittering light in his eyes sparkled for a second before being replaced with empty eyes, almost angry.

“I’m not high,” he groaned, removing your hand from his face. You let them fall beside you with a small, weathery breath.

“That’s good.” You sniffed, but he stepped back when you reached for him, as if your touch was poison. He felt distant and gone, like he wasn’t really in front of you. “You met Yoongi,” he said, his tone cold, lacking the warmth he always used when talking to you.

“I did,” you nodded, your eyes welling up with tears threatening to spill at any moment. “He told me what you did.” His voice was almost nonchalant, which sent a shiver down your body. He was slipping through your fingers like water, no matter how hard you tried to hold on.

“You went to him?” you said, your hands forming into fists beside you as you pressed your nails into your palms, possibly leaving red marks.

“None of your business,” he replied. “I don’t know what sort of shit you tried to pull, but never fucking do it again,” Jungkook bluntly stated.

“You always say it’s not my fucking business, but it fucking is.” You gritted your teeth, anger bubbling in your stomach.

“How the fuck would that be any of your business? From what I recall, we are nothing.” He scoffed, his heart cracking in his chest as the words left his mouth, watching your face fall before recovering.

“Why the fuck are you here, then? It is my fucking business,” You said, tone deadly.

“It is my fucking business because I fucking care about you, Jungkook! You might not notice it, but I love you. I’m so tired of acting like I don’t when all I want is you. I just want you. You.” You cried almost erratically, Jungkook's mouth opening before closing.

“I love you,” you sobbed, tears streaming down your face just like the raindrops on your closed window. “I know you do too; if not, you wouldn’t be here.” A shaky breath left you as you wiped your eyes with a sniffle.

Jungkook’s heart suddenly felt lighter, but the pain in his body didn’t go away. When your words left your mouth, his heart stopped, and the thoughts he came to tell you about were long forgotten. He looked at your puffy, smudged mascara eyes and your pouty lips that begged to be kissed, making the thoughts in his head vanish into thin air.

“You don’t mean that,” Jungkook finally said, and you could almost hear the faint sound of your heart cracking at his words.

Before you could reply, Jungkook dropped onto his knees, shaking. It was pathetic how fast you dropped beside him, getting a hold of his body. “I’m going to die, fuck.” Jungkook shook in your arms, closing his eyes with a loud curse. “Fuck, fuck,” Jungkook growled. You frantically touched him; his body was burning up as he shook in your arms.

“What’s going on?” you cried, coaxing him. Small reassuring ‘you're going to be okay’ left your mouth repeatedly as you held him tight to your chest while he shook and whimpered in pain. “Fuck, need this to go away,” Jungkook shook as he reached for his pocket and pulled out a small bag of pills. His hands shook as he tried to open the bag, fumbling.

“Baby, help me. I need this to go away.” Jungkook cried, tears rushing down his face as he struggled to open the bag.

A heart-wrenching sob escaped past your mouth as you noticed the position you were in. It was like a scene in a film. Jungkook shook his head repeatedly as you took the bag out of his hands and placed it behind you, somewhere he couldn’t reach. “Help me,” Jungkook pleaded, his calloused hands tight on your waist as he shut his eyes in agonizing pain.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried, your fingers wiping his tears.

“Make it go away,” Jungkook cried, the most vulnerable you had ever seen him as he begged you to give him the drugs. It was like you were stuck in a love triangle with him and his last drug of choice.

Jungkook looked at you, his face desperate. “Make it go away,” he pleaded. And that’s exactly what you did, just not in the way Jungkook was thinking. Your lips smashed into his, making his eyes widen before fluttering closed, melting into you.

His tense shoulders immediately relaxed, dropping as the furrowed crease between his forehead softened.

As your lips molded with his perfectly, Jungkook felt his walls start to drop, brick by brick. Your hands held his face tightly, each kiss feeling like a battleground where you both fought with your mouths instead of words. The taste of bitterness mingled with the intoxicating sweetness of longing-a drug that left Jungkook craving more as you tore apart to catch your breath.

Heat surged through your veins, a fiery storm of conflicting emotions raging within. Each touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a hunger you couldn't deny, even as anger simmered beneath the surface. Before you could say anything, Jungkook grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

Your body melted against his, a wave of warmth flooding your senses as his lips met yours again.

It was a moment you had dreamed of, yearned for with every fiber of your being, and now it was here, surpassing all of your wildest expectations. Time seemed to stand still, allowing you to savor every precious second of it.

"Use me," you moaned between the kisses as you gasped for air.

"Forget about everything and just focus on me." You gasped as his lips shut you up once again.

His hands caged your face as his lips molded against yours. Tongues danced together, exploring each other with an unspoken hunger, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of the kiss.

"Fuck, I should've kissed you sooner," Jungkook groaned, his hand sliding gently into your hair. He tugged it back, exposing your neck to his hungry gaze.

A shiver of anticipation raced down your spine as his lips found a new place to explore.

His head dipped to your neck, peppering kisses all over. A soft moan left your lips as he sucked on your sweet spot, leaving a red-purple mark on your collarbone. "So pretty," he said before capturing your lips with his again.

As your lips molded together, a surge of clarity washed over him, drowning out the incessant whispers of addiction that had haunted his mind for so long. With each kiss, the cravings faded into oblivion, replaced by a singular focus- you.

"We shouldn't be doing this," Jungkook groaned as your lips made contact with his neck. The sucking sensation of your lips had him throwing his head back with a heavy sigh. His hands tightened on your waist before pulling you up from the floor onto his lap. "I don't care," you breathed out, pulling him in closer to you. A loud groan ripped out of Jungkook as you sucked on the nape of his neck.

"Baby, I don't wanna take advantage of you," Jungkook said between kisses as you held his face to kiss him roughly. A sudden wave of heat rushed down to your center as Jungkook tried to pull back, only for his bulge to rub against you.

"Use me," you moaned, your arms pulling him into you.

His head rested over your chest, listening to your heartbeat. A shiver ran down his spine at your words.

"Baby, please," he pleaded, his eyes shut from the pleasure of your hips rubbing against him at a slow, almost agonizing pace. All he could think of was you.

"Look at me," you said, your hands holding his face to make him look at you. The once dull, empty eyes he came in with were now long gone, replaced with a sad, almost yearning look. His pupils were dilated as he looked at your face.

"I want you. I want all of you," you started. He nodded, his face the most vulnerable you had ever seen on him, which created a warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

"And I want you to use me," you confessed, your voice trembling with honesty.

As your lips lingered against his, you breathed out the words, your voice a gentle plea, "Let me be the one you turn to when the cravings hit, the one who reminds you of all the reasons to stay, because every time you choose me over drugs, you're choosing yourself. You're choosing us."

Jungkook fumbled with his bottom lip, biting it as he felt his heart slowly start to mend itself. He was sure when he left your room earlier that day that you would never want to talk to him again. But here you were, not giving up on him, instead believing in him. Jungkook's lip trembled before a tear fell down his cheek.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice cracking. The words hang in the air, the complete opposite of how your heart is feeling. Before you can reply, he's pulling on your shirt and smashing his lips onto yours.

The kiss was desperate, filled with unspoken words and emotions. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer as if he couldn't bear to have any distance between you. His hands clutch at you as if you're his lifeline, grounding him in this moment.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Jungkook's tears mix with your own as the intensity of the moment overwhelms you both.

Your lips part for a breath, and in the brief pause, you see the raw emotion in his eyes. It's a look of longing, of need, of a love that's been buried beneath layers of pain and addiction. Without another word, you capture his lips again, pouring all your love and hope into the kiss.

Jungkook's walls crumbled completely as he let himself be vulnerable, feeling your warmth and acceptance enveloping him. The kiss deepened, both of you losing yourselves in the moment, letting the world outside fade away.

Finally, you broke apart, both gasping for breath, foreheads resting against each other. Jungkook's eyes were no longer empty but filled with a mixture of love, determination, and a glimmer of hope. You cupped his face, your thumbs gently wiping away his tears.

"We'll get through this together," you whispered, your voice filled with unwavering conviction. "One step at a time."

Jungkook nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I promise I'll try," he said softly, his voice laced with sincerity.

You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "That's all I ask." Before capturing his lips with yours once again.

You moan into the kiss, and your hands move to his hair, pulling, messing, and tugging. His hands drop to your bare thighs beside him, caging him in. A small whimper makes past the kiss when he dips his finger onto the waistband of your black small shorts you wear underneath your school skirt.

The feeling was foreign, but it felt right. When his fingers dipped into your panties a loud moan was coming out of you. "Shh, baby, your parents will hear you.” Jungkook whispers. “Not here; gone for the weekend.” You pant as you feel his middle finger dip between your delicate folds, spreading your wetness over your clit.

You never had anyone touch you this way; the only thing that has ever come close to your center were your fingers, but as he enters one of his digits, it makes you realize your fingers were nothing compared to this. “Ah-fuck,” you moan, your head falling onto his shoulders.

“So fucking tight, holy shit.” Jungkook exclaims as he adds another finger to your soaking cunt. Your back arches as he pumps his two fingers in and out of your hole, and your hips roll on his lap, trying to relieve your clit. You let out a whine when he pulled them out, but it was quickly replaced with a loud, heavy sigh of relief when three fingers pressed hard on your clit, rubbing circles.

“That feels so good; don't stop.” You cry into his ear; your pussy pulsates on his fingers. The pleasure from his fingers on your pussy has you digging your nails into his arms. “Do you like being fingered?” Jungkook asks as he inserts three fingers, stretching you out. “Yes, fuck yes.” you moan heavily. Your walls clench around Jungkook's fingers anytime he curls them into your g-spot, sending waves of shock to unravel in your abdomen. The squelching sound of your pussy mixes with your loud moans, making Jungkook's dick harden underneath you.

“My bed,” you pant, your eyes shut close as he continues to rummage his fingers into you. Jungkook gives a hum and nod of acknowledgement before pulling his fingers out of you, picking you both up in a quick, swift motion before dropping you on the bed with a squeal.

Jungkook lets out a small, breathy laugh, and his fingers fumble on the button and zipper of his jeans. Your breath gets caught up in your throat when he drops his pants on the ground, revealing the outline of his cock in his boxers. Your eye of vision suddenly went up to his chest when he took his shirt off in a split second, giving you a sight of small scars and bruises on his ribs, sending a punch to your stomach.

Your heart squeezed in your chest when he suddenly realized what you were staring at. You quickly made your way to the end of your bed, pulling him closer. Your lips dropped to the side of his rib cage, leaving a little chaste kiss on one of his bruises. A shaky breath leaves Jungkook as he watches you kiss every single purple, reddish mark and scar on his body.

Jungkook puts a finger under your chin before tilting it up, and your teary eyes make contact with his. 

“Hi.” He whispers softly.

“Hi.” You whisper back, a small smile plastered on Jungkook's face, before his lips make contact with yours. His hands this time worked on pulling down your shorts, which ended up taking your light pink-drenched panties down as well. Heat flowed through your body even though it was freezing in your house. You both broke apart from the kiss when Jungkook pulled on your shirt, pulling it over your head. 

The white shirt gets added to your guy's discarded clothes on the floor, and your hands wrap around his neck before pulling him down with you onto the bed. “M’gon squish you to death.” Jungkook groans as he lifts his weight on you, “What a heavenly way to die.” You joke, cracking a small smile at Jungkook.

You couldn’t even think of anything else because, before you knew it, Jungkook was in between your legs, sucking on your folds. The feeling was unfamiliar, but it felt so good. Your legs squeezed both sides of his face, caging him. His tongue worked magic on you, flicking his tongue all over your pussy. Your hands tangled with his messy raven hair, pulling harshly whenever he would suck on your clit for a little too long.

Your chest heaves as you try so hard to catch your breath. Jungkook moves his head from side to side erratically, earning a pornographic sound from you. Your walls clenched on Jungkook's fingers as he pumped them rapidly. “I’m g-gonna cum,” you cry out, your back arching as he hums onto your center, sending vibrations all over your body.

Your mind is fogged up with invisible smoke, and your lungs burn as you hold onto your breath. Your teeth bite roughly on your bottom lip to contain the moans that are threatening to spill out of you. Before you could say another word, white dots blurred your vision. "Your body squirms into Jungkook's face, coming in a loud moan.

“Hurts, ah” You cry, and a low chuckle rumbles against you as he begins leaving between your legs, but not before dropping a kiss on your inner thigh. Your thighs are pressed together, and your legs are sore as your center aches for more. “Felt good?” Jungkook kisses your cheek, and you nod with a whiney hum as his hand wanders behind you, unclasping your white cotton bra and untangling it from your arms before throwing it somewhere on the floor. Jungkook didn't waste any time putting his mouth on one of your nipples. His warm tongue plays with your bud, sucking, toying, and licking. Your head rolls back as your hands behind his head push him into you more.

“You're so good at this; should I be worried?” You moan as he grinds his hard-clothed length into you. “Don't think about that, baby.” He replies that a sad tone in his voice makes your heart feel as if it were being stabbed. “Oh.” You let out a sigh, and Jungkook planted a kiss on your collarbone. 

“I'm a virgin,” you say, tilting your head to the side to catch a look at Jungkook's face. His brows furrowed slightly before he dropped another kiss on your neck. “I’m not.” Jungkook says, planting a chaste kiss on your cheek. “What a slut.” You joke, playfully rolling your eyes, earning a laugh out of him. “You're annoying.” Jungkook laughs, his head dropping down beside the crook of your neck.

“But you love me.” You pip, moving your body underneath him, making him chuckle.

 “But I love you.” Jungkook looks up, a small smile displayed on his lips. “If I were having sex with someone I care about and love,” He whispers, “This would be my first time as well.” Jungkook finishes, making your heartbeat skyrocket. You feel as if you were on the moon, flying around with the stars.

“Pinky promise.” You smile, you raise your pinky finger up in front of his face, and you watch how he tangles his pinky with yours before smashing his lips with yours. “Pinky promise.” He whispers back into your lips. 

Kissing Jungkook was everything and more than you had ever wished for; his soft, cracked lips molded against yours, fitting like perfect puzzle pieces. “Fuck me, please.” You whine, and your hips rise up, trying to rub yourself against him, which has him pushing your hips down into the mattress with his tattooed hand. “Be patient, baby,” he whispers into your ear.

“Please,” you cry. Your hand slides between you both, palming him over his boxers and making him groan. “Please, fuck me.” you beg this time. Your palm squeezes his cock, making him thrust into you. 

Jungkook didn't reply; instead, he pulled down the last remaining clothing item that was covering him. He opened your legs, a shaky breath left your lip, and your eyes took him. His hair disheveled in a brown mess, his lips puffy and red, and the most mischievous grin on his face had your stomach fluttering with fireworks and roller coasters.

“Nervous?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow as he settles between your legs; his length rubs against your cunt. “It's big,” you bite your lip, as you look between you both. Jungkook bites his lip as he moves closer, placing his cock on you, his tip reaching your belly button. “It’ll fit, if that's what you're wondering.” Jungkook lets out a small snicker, and his thumb runs against your bottom lip.

“It's going to hurt, right?” You ask, your voice low and filled with lust, has heat rushing to Jungkook's cock. "Yes, baby, you’ll probably bleed a bit. But I promise it'll feel so good.” He comforts you; kisses are peppered all over your face, easing your nervousness. “Does this mean we are basically doing blood oaths?” You joke, your heart fluttering  when he lets out a deep, throaty laugh.

Jungkook opens your legs, his eyes drop to your glistening pussy, and your juices spill onto your pink sheets. His hand wraps around his cock, tugging roughly before slapping it on your pussy, making you let out a choked moan. "Ah,” you moan.

“Fuck.” Jungkook curses, "Baby, I don't have a condom,” he remembers. 

“I'm on the pill.” You rush out and say, “I got on them for my periods.” You explain which Jungkook nods. “You sure? We don't have to right now, baby,” Jungkook says, only to be received with a disapproving head nod from you. “No, I want you right now.” You say, your hand wrapping around his cock, giving it a small pump. 

You moan when you place his cock in front of your entrance, and with a small, reassuring smile, Jungkook is pushing his cock into you. “Ah, oh, my god.” You moan, and pain shoots up through your body as he pushes his length into you inch by inch, giving you time to get accustomed. “I know I'm sorry, baby.” Jungkook coos, dropping kisses all over your face as you feel his cock go in deeper. 

“So full.” You moan when his cock is fully in. Your fingertips dig into his back, leaving crescent moons. “Hurts?” He asks, his thumb rubbing your clit trying to help ease the pain. “A little.” You reply before giving him the green light to move. 

Jungkook's movements started slow, pulling his cock out of you and leaving his tip in before pushing in again at the slowest pace. Jungkook's eyes squeezed shut at the intense pleasure his body was feeling. Making him forget everything outside of this moment. You clench around him whenever he hits your g-spot.

The pain turns into pleasure as jungkook plunges into you at a faster pace. Your headboard hits your wall over and over, matching his thrusts. “Taking me so fucking good, fuck.” Jungkook groans, your moans mixing with the sound of the squelching of your juices.

Your mind is hazy, your bodies are hot. As beads of sweat start to form on Jungkook's forehead, a moan flushes out of you when he pushes one of your legs backwards, picking up his pace.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he hits the spot in you repeatedly. Drool starts dripping down the sides of your mouth, and your hands find your sheets tugging hard, turning your knuckles white.

“So good.” You cry out; his thrusts are harder, knocking the air out of your lungs, making you gasp for air each time he slams into you. Jungkook's cock twitches in you as he presses slightly on your belly, making a bulge of his cock appear inside of you.

“I’m going to cum,” you moan. “Not yet, baby, not yet.” Jungkook groans, pulling out. He flips you onto your stomach, presses your legs together before slipping into your pussy again with a loud groan.

"Shit, so fucking tight.” Jungkook moans, His hands squeeze your ass as he fucks you from behind. Your moans and screams get muffled by how you bite into your pillow. The position had him being able to go deeper, and tears started streaming down your cheeks. 

“I’m going to cum.” You scream into your pillow, as he grunts with each thrust he fucks into you. “Come baby.” He groans, giving your waist a squeeze of reassurance. He didn’t have to tell you twice, your orgasm all over his cock. Your body shakes, and you clench hard around him. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he spills into you.

Your bodies heave heavily, as he fucks you both through your orgasm. Soft moans and whines leave your lips as he pulls out of you, and the white fluid drips out of your hole, making Jungkook groan in satisfaction.

“Are you okay, baby?” Jungkook asks, his tone sweet and gentle as he flips you over to your back, catching a glimpse of your red cheeks and teary eye expression. “I think I just had an out-of-body experience.” You chuckle. Jungkook's eyes look over your body, looking for any bruises, but are met with none, which makes him sigh in relief.

“Yeah?” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows, dropping a kiss on your lips before getting up from your bed and making his way to your vanity. He opens a couple of your drawers before picking up the package of wet wipes and making his way back to you.

“We need to change your sheets, baby.” Jungkook comments as he takes notice of the blood stain on them. He pulls one of the wipes out of the package, wiping you clean in a delicate manner. When he finished cleaning you up, he followed along with cleaning himself before disposing the wipes in your trash can beside your bed. 

He also quickly changes your sheets before jumping into bed with you. His head lies on your chest. Hearing your steady heartbeat, your fingers work on his back muscles as he relaxes further into you. The sound of rain outside pebbles against your window.

As you both lay intertwined, your breaths slowly returning to normal, Jungkook felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over him. The familiar gnawing urge for drugs was conspicuously absent, replaced entirely by thoughts of you. Your touch, your warmth, and your love.

And for the second time in his life, the voices finally stopped as he fell asleep to the sound of your breathing.

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒

summary: having your period is already stressful enough and being in a magical all-boys school doesn't make it any better; luckily, your boyfriend is here to help

pairings: leona :: jade :: jamil x gn!reader

warnings: period comfort; mentions of periods and different symptoms (but gn pronouns), mentions of reader having hair in jade's part

twisted wonderland masterlist || similar writing: bloody hell [obey me]

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑

It was decidedly too early for this.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you walked through the hallways, head down to keep from making eye contact with the beastmen staring at you as you passed them. After tossing and turning all night, kept from finding sleep by painful cramps, being ogled at by students at an all boys school that could smell the blood on you was the last thing you needed.

And it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to avoid this. When you had realised the predicament you would inevitably find yourself in, you had downright begged Crowley to let you stay at Ramshackle. After all, a certain Ignihyde dorm leader also never attended class in person. But, really, you should have known better. As if the headmage would let his number one therapist stay home for a few days each month or as he put it, he 'couldn’t rob a precious student like yourself of the opportunity to learn'.

At least Sam was an actual help and had magically procured just the stuff you needed.

So, with heavy eyes and burning cheeks you speed walked towards your first class of the day, dodging students at the last second on more than one occasion until you eventually ran straight into a sturdy chest. Looking up briefly to apologise, you blinked at the familiar emerald eyes sizing you up.

“Leona! What are you doing here?” Most people’s first reaction to seeing their boyfriend would probably not be bewilderment, but running into your boyfriend inside the school during class hours was as likely as Ace making it through a week without being collared by his housewarden.

“That’s funny, ‘cause I was about to ask you the same thing,” the lion drawled, ears flicking to help convey the incredulousness painted on his face. “So, what do you think you’re doing?”

As imposing as he was with his athletic build and the unimpressed expression, causing the students around you to serve around the two of you, you weren’t affected at all, used to his grumpy exterior.

“Uhm, going to class?” You deadpanned, putting your hand on your hip to mirror his stance. “Unlike someone else I know.”

“Yeah, you’re not doing that,” Leona stated matter of factly.

“Excuse you?” When he tried pulling you along by your arm, away from the direction of your classroom, you dug your heels into the ground. “I hate to sound like a broken record but what are you doing, Leona?”

“Making you get some rest, obviously.” You couldn’t see it from where you stood but you could practically hear the way he rolled his eyes. 

“Listen I can’t just skip class, I talked to the headmage–”

“Crowley can solve his own problems for a day,” his voice rumbled low in his throat, almost sounding like a growl, “you know, like an actual adult. And don’t try to play dumb with me herbivore, it’s not a good look on you. I know you sleep like shit when you get your period and I also know that the people around you don’t take your health into account when they get up to some stupid idea.”

“Yeah but-”

You saw the annoyed flick of his tail before he turned around and braced his hands on your shoulders without ever applying any pressure. By now the last bell had rang and the corridor was deserted, leaving you to be the only people standing in the early morning light.

“Don’t give me this self-sacrificial nonsense,” Leona said, words harsh but you knew him well enough to read the protective feeling behind them. “We both know you need to rest. What good would it really do you to go to class in this state?”

As if to agree with him, a nasty cramp pulled at your lower stomach and the ill suppressed grimace on your face must have been all too apparent to your boyfriend. Giving your arm another light tug, Leona coaxed you towards the Hall of Mirrors again with a tempting ‘C’mon’ and this time you let him pull you along willingly, even handing him your backpack when he reached out for it.

Sometimes, it was hard to forget the kind of culture Leona grew up in, one where women held a high position of power in general, so really you shouldn’t be surprised by how… normal he was about all of this. Part of that was probably also because it was a very gentlemanly excuse to skip class in favour of a nap, if you were honest.

“If you’re that worried about missing class, Jack can give you his notes.” His offhand comment made you snort. Of course, he would offer someone else’s service to you before anything else.

“Or my third-year boyfriend could tutor me,” you teased, a playful lilt swinging in your voice.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” the lion shrugged. “Weren’t you just on my case about my attendance record?”

“Because the first-year curriculum is just too hard for someone who can turn an entire stadium into dust,” you jabbed.

“You’re yapping a lot for someone who’s this tired,” Leona grumbled, a large palm pushing your head down, careful not to hurt you. With a giggle you decided to drop the topic. 

Crossing the Hall of Mirrors and stepping through the Savanclaw portal, you were greeted by the  warm breeze of dry air typical for the dorm’s daytime. After the trek through the savanna past the spring in the common room and across the wooden bridges, you reached Leona’s room and you could already feel the tension seep from your body as you stepped into its comfortable familiarity. 

When you unbuttoned your uniform’s blazer, you caught a glimpse of your stomach through your shirt, slightly extended further than usual due to the bloating. And rationally you knew it was a normal bodily reaction to your period but paired with the new bumps on your face and general exhaustion, logic wasn’t quite enough to calm your mind.

The clothes being plopped down on your head, however, certainly did rip you from your thoughts. Lifting the ends of the black material covering your eyes you threw your boyfriend a questioning glare.

“I can tell you’re thinking something stupid,” Leona offered as an explanation. “Just get changed and come to bed.”

Huffing under your breath, you stepped into his ensuite bathroom to do as he said, pulling on your boyfriend’s shirt and sweatpants. While you didn’t feel like agreeing with him quite yet, you had to admit, royal loungewear was a league of its own in comfort. And probably in price.

When you emerged, Leona had just tossed his phone on the nightstand before devoting all his attention to you. The ears on his head flicked as his gaze wandered from your head to toe and back up, a grin tugging at his lips and an appreciative glint in his green eyes. 

Then, the second you came within reach, he’d already wrapped you in his strong arms and pulled you into bed with him, not without a surprised squeal from you. You could feel his deep chuckle as much as you heard it with your head resting on his chest and resigned yourself to merely sighing fondly. 

With two firm hands stroking up and down the length of your back purposefully, their warmth spreading through your body, and his chest rising rhythmically underneath you, you finally allowed yourself to relax as you traced random patterns onto his biceps and pectorals and followed the movement with heavy-lidded eyes.

“You weren’t seriously looking down on yourself earlier, were you?” Leona mumbled, a serious care in his words he didn’t offer many people. 

“Well, you can’t really help it when your body goes through this many changes, can you?” you drowsily replied, your eyes already falling closed with no conscious work of your own. “Besides, periods are not the time you feel generally great about yourself.”

“No matter how you might see yourself, I don’t want you to doubt for even a second that I like you the way you are.” At his heartfelt confession, you peeked one eye open to study his expression.

“You can be quite the romantic if you want to huh?” You meekly chuckled, not able to help yourself.

“Go to sleep, herbivore, you’re talking crazy.” Even as he put one of his hands on the back of your head to keep you cradled against him, you didn’t miss how his ears flicked or the fondness with which he looked down on you.

“Alright, alright. I appreciate it though, really.” With a big yawn you shifted to get comfortable, your cramps far from your mind as you sunk into your boyfriend’s natural warmth. “Love you.”

By the time you’d wake up, Ruggie would have dropped off lunch along with some other essential items. But for now, Leona was content to watch as your breath evened out and your chest rose and fell in the rhythm of his own, careful not to disturb you when he draped a soft blanket over you. With the rising sun peeking through the arches of his room, he truthfully answered you in a whisper. 

“Love you, too.”

𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐇

Once Jade had taken an interest in you, he would seemingly appear out of thin air in your general vicinity a lot more often than it was usual to run into a fellow student. On your way to the school store, in line at the cafeteria or when you were carrying supplies for Professor Crewel, the moray would coincidentally round a corner to lend a hand.

So it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise that, as his courting became more serious and you had become aware of what was going on, even reciprocating the sentiment, you found the sophomore waiting for you before your classes started. Your time table was well-memorised so he could greet you with a serene smile each day and walk you to your first class of the morning.

Now, as a moray eel with naturally sharp senses, it was somewhat inevitable he’d pick up on the scent of blood once your period rolled around. In contrast to beastmen who were mostly mammals in their anatomy, however, the Octatrio did not grow up on land and periods weren’t exactly a thing for merfolk. Moreover, seeing as they had only been on land for roughly two years and were attending an all-boys school, it was not a phenomenon they were likely to run into.

So, having his dear pearl approach one morning, the smell of iron heavy in the air, paired with their already soured mood and his lack of knowledge on the societal stigma around the topic, misunderstandings were bound to happen.

“I really don’t think it wise to attend class in your state,” the moray had stated after greeting you, an eyebrow raised at your stubbornness to continue with your day even at what, in his mind, must have been a grave injury. 

“I’m fine, Jade, I just want to get this day over with,” you had groaned, trying to push past the tall student and drop the topic, embarrassed enough that a sizable chunk of the student body would be aware of your predicament in the first place.

But who would he be to let a person he actually cared about go on their way with a bleeding wound? 

“Prefect, I must insist you seek medical aid immediately.” You remembered the uncharacteristically genuine furrow of his brows as he had blocked your path. “Please, go to the school nurse or at least let me tend to your needs. I’m certain I could be of help if you share your problem with me.”

“If you want to hear me say it so desperately,” you had huffed, “I’m on my period. Happy now?”

“Your period?” Jade had echoed with wide eyes, unknowingly speeding up the burning of your shortened fuse with his lack of knowledge. “Yes, I’m aware we are to attend class but I fail to see–”

“Very funny,” you had deadpanned, pushing past him with a cold shoulder and leaving the moray to his own confusion. “Now if you excuse me, I have better things to do than stand here and humour your feigned ignorance today.”

Yes it wasn’t your proudest moment, you’d admit that. And when Jade approached you later that day with a genuine apology, explaining how he had researched the topic and was deeply ashamed of his uninformed remarks, you felt like the worst person on the planet and apologised more than he had. So in the end, you came to an apology truce, where you noted he shouldn’t have prodded further when you didn’t want to talk about it and you shouldn’t have exploded on him like you did.

Since the incident, however, Jade had been a dream to have around. Not to fall short again, he had done a fair amount of research, both on the biological aspect of what was happening to your body but also on the lived experience and its numerous complications. Then, doing what he did best, he observed your reactions, moods and symptoms to better cater to you specifically.

Every month he put both his cooking and alchemy skills to good use, whipping up whatever meal you desired and brewing a painkilling potion with just the right dosage for your current situation. Being Jade Leech, he could also assert his presence in any given situation with as little as a simple glare if you did not want to be bothered.

Your favourite part of the comfortable rhythm you two had fallen in, however, were the evenings where Grim was otherwise engaged and you had Ramshackle to yourselves. On those nights, soft music and fond laughter would mix with hushed whispers spilling from under your bathroom door.

A few months prior, Azul and Jade had sat down for a ‘pleasant chat’ with the Headmaster concerning the state of Ramshackle dorm and soon thereafter, funding had been provided to remodel vital parts of the dorm. No more caved-in roofs or stairs giving away under people’s shoes. Together with the money from the VDC, the old house had finally started feeling like an actual home; one you felt welcome and comfortable in.

It also meant you finally trusted your new bathtub enough to sit in it and actually also relax without any anxieties of whatever you could possibly contract from the exposure. 

With his natural fondness of water, it hadn’t taken long for Jade to propose the idea of shared baths and you hadn’t regretted your decision to agree since. It wasn’t like he gave you any reason to either; it was the opposite, really. It didn’t take the moray long at all to figure out the perfect temperature or what fragrance you preferred, if any. 

He also never made you feel inadequate or like you had to be ashamed of yourself, even when your body went through change throughout your cycle. Your skin tingled from his featherlight touches where his fingers traced your curves, never hiding the fact that he appreciated what he saw but always pairing it with a reverence that made you feel loved and desired, rather than ogled at. So when you sank into the water after him, cosying into his space to lean back against his chest, it was like sinking into a warm, secure embrace.

The water helped soothe your aches and washed away the tension which had built over the day and the easily flowing conversation with Jade let you focus on anything other than the thoughts in your mind, listening to his rich voice rather than the doubts trying to crawl to the surface.

When his hands massaged the shampoo into your hair, you always teetered on the edge of falling asleep right then and there. The atmosphere paired with his skilled fingers applying just the right amount of pressure as his nails gently scraped over your scalp banished any headaches you could have had and had you practically melting against him, a sight that tugged on his heartstrings more than it should have. But to see you put so much trust in him, someone who wasn’t exactly known for his benevolence, it stirred something fond in his heart and it made him want to work harder so you would keep showing him this blissful expression.

After scrubbing your bodies down, paying special attention to any sore spots, he helped you out of the tub, never failing to comment on how wrinkly your hands had gotten in comparison to his, which didn’t seem to be affected by the water exposure at all. Wrapping you up in a fluffy black towel he claimed was from Octavinelle -though you were fairly certain you’d only ever seen pale lilac ones there- he padded you dry and helped you into your clothes, mindful of the routines and products you had shown him previously. 

Needless to say, you felt like a new person each time without fail as you lay snuggled up with your boyfriend in bed later on, listening to his breathing and the steady beating of his heart. 

“Thank you so much for always doing this much for me, Jade,” you said, earnest gratitude and unspoken adoration lining your voice. “I’m really lucky to be with you, huh?”

“On the contrary, I am the one luck seems to favour seeing how you chose to be with me,” he chuckled and you didn’t miss how his strong arms pulled you closer against him even if it wasn’t physically possible. He’d be damned if he didn’t try. “And you needn’t feel conflicted about receiving my affection. Just know I enjoy doing these things for you and with you, pearl.” 

“I stand by my earlier statement,” you smiled, making him laugh along with you. Looking into his heterochromic eyes, you traced the contours of his face with the same delicacy he showed you earlier. “Is it selfish to say that I feel happy about having this side of you all to myself?”

“Not at all. It is reserved for you only, dearest.” His gaze was heavy on yours as he loosely curled his fingers around your wrist and pressed a searing kiss against your palm. “After all, I do not intend to share this side of you with anyone else either.”

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋 𝐕𝐈𝐏𝐄𝐑

There have certainly been times where Jamil lamented having to basically babysit his dorm leader. Well, pretty much all the time. But being unable to stay by your side while you were hurting was generally one of the most annoying parts of his duties to him, especially with the daily workload of being a student on top of it all. 

Jamil being Jamil, however, he soon worked out a schedule consistent enough to let him visit you somewhat frequently. 

You were lying on one of Ramshackle’s rickety couches, nursing your lower stomach with a -at this point already lukewarm- water bottle, when a familiar knocking pattern brought a smile to your face.

“Come in! It’s open,” you shouted across the hall, adding your sarcastic comment under your breath in order not to worry your boyfriend more than he already was. “Not like the lock’s ever doing its job in this place.”

“Hm? Did you say something?” Jamil made his way straight over to where you were sitting, his footsteps quieting down as he reached the carpeted floor.

“No,” you shook your head, smiling up at him as he leant over the back of the couch. Ignoring his raised eyebrow, you reached up, so you could cradle his cheek as you sat up to meet him for a sweet kiss. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” Seemingly appeased, your boyfriend mirrored your fond expression, tracing your face with his grey gaze while his hands moved to your shoulders, deft fingers working out any tension you might be having. “How are you feeling?”

“A lot better now that you’re here,” you laughed, though it wasn’t merely a sappy joke, as indicated by Jamil’s scoff behind you. “I mean it though. I’ve been feeling a lot better since I’ve been receiving your royal treatment.”

“It’s nothing that fancy,” Jamil assured, his eyes softening at the way you melted into his touch. “I’m just trying to take care of you.”

“I know you don’t think much of it but I really appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to look after me when I’m not even facing anything out of the ordinary,” you sighed, rehashing points you had raised in vain before.

“Oh hush,” your boyfriend playfully shushed you the way he had also done many times already when the topic came up. “Compared to what I usually deal with, this is like taking a vacation, especially since I get to spend time with you. Now speaking of my normal chores, I brought some leftover food.”

“Have I told you that I love you?” You swooned, causing both of you to laugh as Jamil headed over to your kitchen, one he was already familiar with. Not only because he often came over for some much needed peace and quiet but because Kalim was literally the reason you had it in the first place. A relationship-warming-gift of sorts for a relationship that wasn’t even his.

Besides, ever since courting and dating you, Jamil’s measuring skills when it came to meal prep seemed to have worsened because -coincidentally- he’d ended up with too much food and subsequent leftovers so often, you wondered why you even stocked your own fridge anymore.

What you had also noticed though was that, whenever you were on your period -something he seemed to track himself-, the food he brought over was a lot less spicy than usual and rather light. Something someone prone to a sensitive stomach, nausea, reduced appetite or a disturbed metabolism could still comfortably eat. 

The phenomenon of suddenly appearing sticky notes had also made itself known, labelling new containers in your fridge, medication on the counter or your coffee machine with reminders like ‘Remember caffeine makes your cramps worse’ written on it in neat handwriting. 

One or the other bar of dark chocolate and some of your favourite snacks had mysteriously found their way into your bags or onto a bowl in your kitchen as well though, making you smile at Jamil’s thoughtfulness when you caught a peek of them. 

During the day, whenever his schedule allowed it, he’d also drop by to check in on you between classes or during lunch, something Kalim wholeheartedly supported. Normally, Jamil refused all of Kalim’s offers to take a break from his duty but when you were feeling under the weather, he took the white-haired student up on it when no imminent disaster was on the horizon waiting to happen.

When your plate was empty and made its trip to the sink, Jamil refilled your hot water bottle but unlike you earlier, he waved his magic pen over it, which you had realised significantly expanded the time in which the water actually stayed hot.

“Thank you,” you said for possibly the millionth time as you took the bottle from him, then gave him a mischievous grin. “You know what would make me feel soo much better though?”

At the tilt of his head, you scooted over to make space between you and the back of the couch. Getting the hint, Jamil settled in behind you and you got comfy again with your back to his chest. This too had become somewhat of a ritual of yours, one that wasn’t limited to while you were suffering from cramps. 

After all the chore-y part of the late afternoon was taken care of, you liked to spend the evening snuggled up on your couch with the TV playing some show you liked to watch together, read: a show which you started and dragged Jamil into. Well, every now and then your boyfriend also made sure you didn’t fall behind on your studies, though he was more lenient when you were on your period.

“This is nice,” you mumbled, your eyelids heavy now that you had eaten and were surrounded by warmth and your loving boyfriend, whose hands stroked along your sides in a soothing, continuous motion, his chest vibrating underneath you with his affirming hum. 

“I could stay like that forever,” he agreed.

“Well I certainly wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t.” The smile in his voice was auditory even if you couldn’t see his gorgeous face. You could, however, feel his soft lips on the crown of your head and his breath fanning over it and you reached to intertwine one of your hands with his before a yawn you couldn’t suppress any longer filled the air. “You should get some rest, I’m sure you’re tired.”

“But I wanna stay with you longer,” you protested, sleep clouding your tone. 

“Don’t worry, I will be here when you wake up,” Jamil promised. And with that you drifted off, the warmth from around you settling cosily around your heart. A heart that wasn’t really yours alone anymore.

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twisted wonderland: @savanaclaw1996 @honehbee42

[leonfucker3000]

Gotcha

Bounty Hunter/Cowboy!Leon S. Kennedy x outlaw!fem!reader

Warnings: smut, feelings (of regret) (and slight yearning), oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, fucking against metal bars. 16+ because I was you once just don’t be weird

Ummm I wrote this last year in, like, March? I posted and finished it December, though (yikes) with that being said I’m sorry if the writing is…I suppose questionable? Yeah, sure, questionable. On ao3 here if you prefer that site. Not proofread btw.

oh, right, reader’s outlaw name is ‘ranger’ but it’s mentioned once. I was inspired by Leon’s Arthur Morgan mod but you can imagine him in any outfit, all that’s mentioned is that he wears a leather hat (I think). cowboy Leon is the reason I keep on going, thanks.

tumblr is a scary, new place for me. Please be kind😱

The sound of the horse's feet running in the desert sand fills the hollow night. Gunshots and gunpowder making Leon’s nostrils flare, the metallic smoke filling up his lungs uncomfortably.

Close. He’s so fucking close. 

You stop your horse and bolt for the abandoned  bank you robbed just a month prior and wait . It’s hot and cold, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin as you try to keep your breathing still. The weight of your revolver is the only thing that feels remotely natural, the only thing that reminds you that you have at least some control.

His horse blows and grunts as it comes to a halt, a cloud of sand threatening his vision until he bats it away. The swinging door of the bank creaks along with the wooden floorboards of each step he takes.

You can hear him grow closer, the spurs on his boots jingling—a warning, a taunt. He’s got you, and had it not been from how fucking tired you were, you would’ve kept going.

“There’s not much use in hidin’ anymore,” Leon’s gruff voice breaks the low whistling wind, “Think we both know the only way you’re getting outta here is in cuffs or in a rug dragged across the sand.”

You hold in a scoff, the bandana muffling your steadying breath. Hiding behind the wall, you hear his steps come and go, small curses falling from under his breath and muttering you can’t put together. 

After a moment of silence, you muster up the courage to peek around the corner. A mistake. 

“Gotcha.” His cowboy hat casts a dark shadow across his face, the dim moonlight barely making the whites of his eyes visible. His own revolver is pointed to your head, the reflecting metal almost blinding — another taunt to your capture. 

“Kennedy.” You speak through gritted teeth, sour and bitter as you say his name.

“Ranger.” A humorless chuckle escapes his lips, “Not one day goes by that I don’t get sick of hearin’ that name. Can’t even get a beer without a sad sap waiting to tell their story about encountering you.”

“Good to know I’m on your mind at least. Hadn’t seen you in sometime, thought you died.” You watch as his hand tightens around the grip of his gun, his index finger sliding towards the trigger. 

“I’m not gonna die before I catch you, or kill you. One or the other.” He rolls his eyes as he watches you point the gun to his leg, “Put that down before I blow your brains out. The sheriff’ll get mad at me for the mess.”

“I think he’d be happier if you killed me, really.”

“Maybe, but I think they’d rather kill you themselves, and slower.” A sigh leaves you as you drop your revolver to the floor, not bothering to put your hands up because, well, there’s no use for it. “Back up. Don’t need you gettin’ any ideas. Get in the vault.” 

The vault? He doesn’t give you time to protest, taking a step forward so his gun grazes your forehead, “Fuck, alright, I get it .” 

You back into the vault, the metal bars making it your makeshift jail. He closes the door shut, watching you through the spaces between the bars and giving you an annoying smug smirk, “Look at that . Behind bars is a natural look on you. Can’t believe it’s taken this long.”

Leon takes a walk around, finding the key and locking the ‘jail’. Convenient. “Y’wanna start by telling me why you’ve been doing this? They’re gonna get it outta you anyway, best to let it out now. A pretty face ain’t gonna getcha freedom.”

“Pretty?” You muse.

“Shut up.” He scoffs.

“I don’t think my reason would really make a difference.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Maybe not, but every outlaw has some kind of story to tell.”

You slump against the back wall of the vault, letting out a small groan as your hand runs down your face. If you’re going to get locked up and eventually hung, you guess it wouldn’t hurt for at least one person to know the truth. He’s not…the best person but out of everyone else, maybe he is. “My family. Dead broke. Needed the money.” 

He stares at you for a moment before laughing, gripping one of the metal bars as he snickers, “you really expect me to believe that? If I wouldn’t let a bastard cheat me in poker, I’m not gonna have you cheat me now.” 

“‘M not cheating you for anything, I gotta family at home. Mouths to feed, debts to pay, shit to do.”

“That’s a real shitty thing, lying about your family like that.” He grumbles, looking at you like ‘lying’ was worse than all the money you’ve stolen. The lives you threatened.

This man’s priorities seriously needed to be straightened out. You pull down your bandana and toss it to the side as you get comfortable on the floor, the bank door’s small creaks making the night all the more eerie. 

When you look up, he’s still staring at you. His lips are curled into a slight snarl and, had it not been for the bars, he might’ve lunged at you.

Leon’s wondering what your game is, he knows what you do when you lie—how you look away from him and take a step back and your lip always twitches without fail—you’re not doing any of that. “Even if you did do it to keep your family afloat, what about the rest of the people you wronged?”

“What, the rich? They don’t give a damn about us, why should I give a damn about them?”

“I’m talkin’ about the public robberies. Like the train robbery down in Georgetown, or the bank in Laredo, those were all big jobs, you tellin’ me those were victimless crimes? Bullshit. There’s oughta be a casualty.”

“If there was a casualty, it wasn’t from me. I’ve never fired a gun at an innocent.”

He scorns, “but you’ll fire a gun at the people tryna protect the innocents.” 

“None of them are dead, are they? They’re at home with their families not needing to worry about eatin’.”

He feels conflicted, because fuck if you’re telling the truth then he feels like an asshole all those times he’s almost killed you. A family. You have children, a husband, maybe, unless he’s dead—is that why you’re doing this?—And he’s fought with you more than he can remember. He sniffles, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb and shaking his head, “how old are your kids?”

It was your turn to chuckle, “i don’t have kids. Well, sort of, if you include takin’ care of my siblings.”

Guess he got it wrong. He doesn’t know if he feels better or worse, his stomach churns at the thought of your younger siblings waiting for you to come home just to never return. Never to know if you died or ran away. No, he’s sure they’d figure out you died, if you were doing this for them, why would you leave them? God he needs a drink. “You don’t gotta momma or daddy or what?” 

“My momma’s sick. Daddy’s gone.” You shrug as if it’s nothing, maybe it is nothing to you but it’s everything to him. He hates that he’s so easily swayed. You being fine with this should tell him this is a lie but— 

But what? He doesn’t know. You’re a criminal that has added unnecessary stress to the public, even have other outlaws mad at you for taking their money. It’s simple as to what he needs to do.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m sure after your first three robberies you woulda had enough money to feed a church for the next 5 years. Didn’t need all of that, that’s just fucking greed.”

“I don’t keep all of it. I give it to people like me. Too many families have lost their kids just because they couldn’t feed ‘em for a week. Bet they don’t tell you that, though, do they?” 

He knows better. He knows that he knows better. This is a lie, he’s the law, he needs to uphold the law, no exceptions. No hesitation. “So, what? You’re a modern day Robin Hood?”

“If I say yes will you shut the fuck up?” 

“If you tell me the truth I will.” 

“Mother fucker— I am. You have a gun, have me in a fucking vault, I’m unarmed say for my knife, but I’ll give it to you if it’ll shut you up. what do I have to gain from this shit? You’ve caught up people for way less, I don’t have shit up my sleeve to leave.”

A moment passes, and suddenly? He hates himself.

“God damnit.” He curses under his breath, turning his body away as he groans. He can still hear the horses outside, can hear the wind chiming, playing a small song. You keep quiet, watching him pace back and forth once before pinching the bridge of his nose. “‘M gonna fuckin’ regret this.” He mumbled to himself, putting in the key and swinging the metal door open. 

He shifts to the side, motioning with his head, “Go. Get. Leave.”

“What’re you doing, Kennedy?”

His lips press into a fine line as he exhales through his nose, “What kinda man would I be if I took you away from them when I had the chance to save you?” He sighs, “They need you. God knows no one else will give a damn.”

You hesitate, you don’t know why—you should’ve ran as soon as the key went in the damn hole. You grab your bandana you threw off earlier, wrapping it around your neck with a curt nod. “Thank you.”

He doesn’t meet your gaze, a small frown on his face before he speaks, “yeah, yeah, just turn your ass around before I find a reason to lock you up again.”

You tip your hat to him, walking out of the vault. Your spurs are the one to jingle this time. 

“ ‘sides, I always did like the back of you.” 

You planned to keep going. You really fucking did.  

When you turned around, your bodies were only two feet away. You swore you walked further from him but honestly, you couldn’t tell anymore. “Those are dangerous words you’re playing with.”

His back straightens and he peers down at you, “Are they?”

“You’re a confusing man, Kennedy.”

“I don’t remember telling you I was simple.”

You tut, “Haven’t you made enough mistakes already?”

He has, he knows it. The first damn mistake he’s made was making it a point to try and capture you. A year and 4 months he’s spent on this–on you. But, really, what bad would one last mistake do? He’s already made so many, it’ll just be another bullet to his chamber. He takes a step closer, chests nearly touching as his hands twitch to grab you, feel you without the mission of needing to hurt you and take you in. “I’d say not enough.”

All those times during his chase he could’ve gotten close, on top of you, felt your breath against his as you cornered one another. He hasn't, and he’s tired of letting it sit at bay. Learning a new side of you made him crazy. Crazier. 

God is he an idiot.

Your breaths fill the tense atmosphere as he takes another small step closer, was it always so hot in here? 

“We shouldn’t.”

“Who says?”

“ Everyone .” You stay like this for what seems like an eternity until Leon pulls you in by the back of your neck, his free hand moving to your waist as his lips crush against yours in a hasty kiss. He groans against your mouth and your fist coils the fabric of his shirt. Your hats tipped one another’s off and fell to the floor.

After a few seconds, he is the one to pull away from you. Your eyebrows furrow as you look at him in confusion, he looks at you like it was the answer. He clears his throat and takes a step back, wiping away your kiss and he looks away, trying to deny himself of what he wants. 

Who he wants so, so badly. 

He struggles to speak, to move, to think. He watches you and you watch him, both of your breaths at a skewed pace. 

“Make a mistake with me.” He whispers, he looks different. You can finally see his face, moonlight highlighting his sharp features. Never noticed how handsomely-pretty he was before. 

God, fuck it.

You step forward this time, pulling him in by the collar of his button up and pressing your lips against his. He licks the seam of your lips and you part them, teeth clacking and tongues entwining as he grabs the wide of your hips and pushes you against the metal bars. Ouch. 

He pulls away from you with a sigh, looking offended at the fact that he even had to leave the plush of your lips. His hand leaves you to unbuckle your belt with fervor and slip his hand inside your pants and panties. 

His fingers slip between your wet folds and he dips his head down to kiss your neck. Small moans escape you as he slowly rubs your clit, feeling your wet slick coat his fingers. “All those pretty sounds for me? I think I’m flattered.” 

You groan, “of course you’re a bitch even when doing this.”

“I take my words back, then.” He rolls his eyes and opts to bite down on your shoulder, your nails dig into his back through the fabric of his shirt and he shudders when you bite him back. “fuck, ‘s not enough. Gotta taste you.” 

He drops to his knees and fumbles with your belt until it’s off and shoves your pants down, his breath stuttering when he sees the soaked fabric. He drags them off you and pulls one of your legs over his shoulder. You hold onto the bars for balance, “Jesus Christ, wait . Almost made me fucking fall—“

You’re cut off when he spreads your lips and licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit. You moan, fingers grabbing a fistful of his hair and his eyes fluttered shut. He sighs at the taste of you, “fuckin’ delicious, can’t believe I didn’t do this shit sooner.” His voice, almost a groan, wavered before pushing his face back between your legs. 

His tongue lapped at your entrance and his nose bumped up against your swollen clit. His fingers dimple the fat of your thigh and his cock twitches the louder your sounds get. He curled his tongue and pressed it deeper, despite the proximity, he needed to get closer somehow. 

Trying to close your legs doesn’t work, smushing your thighs against his face only adds fuel to the fire.

You nearly sob when he pushed a finger inside your cunt, thrusting against your g-spot with a quick, steady rhythm. “ Leon , shit, shit , don’t you fucking stop. “ He slips in another finger, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes and a shit eating grin.

First time you’ve said his name, not kennedy or bastard or asshole – his name . And fuck, does it sound pretty coming out of you like that, how that alone makes his cock strain against his zipper. 

Filthy squelches and moans flood the empty bank while Leon eats your pussy like a starved man. His own moans escaping as you buck your hips against his face. You pull on his hair roughly and you swear you hear him whine

“Gotta get you nice ‘n wet f’me,” He muttered against your pussy and his eyes fluttered as he tried to keep open to watch you. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks hard — a cry of his name and you’re so fucking close to coming on his face, panting and feeling uncomfortably hot. 

“Too much—“ you gasp, “Oh shit, fuck, it’s too much.” You choke, uneven moans escaping you as you finally come. You expect him to pull away but he doesn’t falter. “Mnh, wait, fuck, get off, get off . ” You beg breathlessly.

Leon groaned again and pressed closer, “need it, give it to me, honey. Gonna make you feel good, just don’t make me fucking stop.” He pleaded, feeling dizzy as he got high off your taste. You attempt to push his head and mouth away but your attempts are in vain. 

You let out yet another choked sob when he forces another orgasm out of you, reluctantly, he pulled away, licking his lips clean and wiping the rest with the back of his hand. His free hand rubbed your thigh to try and soothe you, asshole turned caring in a matter of seconds. “Sorry.” He murmurs, “couldn’t help myself.”

Your breaths are uneven pants as you look down at him on his knees still. “ Fuck me , Kennedy apologizing? I’m speechless.”

“Oh, we’re back to Kennedy?” 

He gets off his knees while yours quiver, “It was a mistake. A fluke.”

A smirk plays on his lips, “yeah, sure. We’ll see.” He turns you around and wraps his arm around your hips and pulls them against his own, pushing you forward slightly so you’re bent over, “grab the bars.” And you do.

You can feel the outline of his cock press against you, “so fucking ready, didn’t waste a goddamn second—y’sure that was a fluke? Getting my pants all dirty, honey.” You feel embarrassed, but not for long when you hear his belt buckle clink and the sound of fabric rustling – heart racing and pussy throbbing as to what’s happening. You turn your head and see him spit and runs his hand over his cock to get it wet. He smirks when he catches you, you shake your head and look forward again. “Gotta be sweet to me or I’ll make you work for it.”

“God, kennedy–” You gasp when he slides the head between your folds and nudges it at your entrance. 

“Leon.” he corrects, pushing the tip inside you, “C’mon baby, I know you can say it.” he grabs your hips to keep you from pushing back onto him. Fucker . 

“ Leon.”  

“Atta girl.”

He snaps his hips into you, body shuddering and your mouth opens with a sharp gasp and choked back moan. His grip on your hips tighten when he pulls out and pushes back inside to the hilt. His breathing is nothing but grunts, groans, and pants, you’re not much different – if anything else, you’re worse. “Can’t– fuck –handle it? Can rob every fucking bank but you can’t take some dick.”The way he fucks you is merciless, he wants you to feel good but also wants to punish you for everything you’ve done. Everything you’ve done to him. 

He dips his hand lower to smack your ass, “Answer me. Had a lot to say just minutes ago.” 

“Sh-shit, I can take it,” you shudder, “I can take it–” Your skin is wet with sweat and it gets harder to hold onto the bars, each thrust making you lose a bit more of yourself. Fuck him and fuck this but holy shit do you suddenly not regret everything you’ve ever done.

You’re mewling beneath him, happily and prettily so. “Pussy’s so tight, just needed a good dicking down.” he moans, “That all it took to get you to – fuck that’s good – listen?” he moves one of his hands from your hip to your clit, stimulating it as he fucks you a little harder, “Say my name, God, I need it.” he groans.

“Leon, Leon, Leon– ” You moan loudly, you don’t know when the sheriff is coming, but if he’s close you’re sure he can hear you easily. Your vision blurs when he touches you and your legs tremble with each spot his cock hits. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve gotcha, not lettin’ you go.” Leon’s an idiot, but if his mistakes will make him feel this good again, he’ll keep making them. His composure starts to dwindle when sweat beads his forehead and you start squeezing him like a vice. Made for him, he thinks. “ Take it , fuck yourself onto me honey, atta girl.” his breath stutters. 

Who are you to deny him – you do as you’re told and he moans. His hand goes up to your neck and pulls your back against his chest. Within seconds, you come around him with his name on your tongue and a scream. He bites down on your shoulder with a desperate groan before he pulls out and streams of hot come hit your ass.

He holds onto you like you’re his life line, like he’ll fall if he lets you go (he will). You two stay like that for a good 20 seconds before he lets go of you and takes a couple of steps back. He turns away from you and you can hear him zip up his pants and belt clunk when he fixes himself. You do the same, a little slower, both out of lack of energy and embarrassment.

Leon also feels embarrassed. This is the part where he’d usually get whoever he was sleeping with a glass of water, a quick bath, and ask if they’d rather go home tonight or he takes them home tomorrow. He can’t do either of that, and he’s supposed to hate you and definitely not fuck you or let you go.

He swallows, “You need to get going. He’ll be here soon and he won’t hesitate to shoot if he sees you run.”

“Right.” you whisper, taking a deep breath to steady yourself as you bend down to pick up your hat. You’re both in a daze, he looks at you, all guilty and nervous. His hair is wet with sweat and his cheeks are flushed, had it been anyone else you would’ve pushed his hair back to get a better look at him. But he’s not anyone else, and this was all a mistake . “Gonna stop coming after me now?” 

A weak smile tugs his lips, “In both ways, no. Can’t promise anything.”

You fight back a laugh but return his smile, turning away so he can’t see it. He picks up his hat next and watches as you walk away from him to the front of the bank. Like a lost puppy, he follows. “Need help getting up?” he motions to your horse.

“I’ll be fine, Kennedy. You need to worry about yourself rather than me.”

“Like I said, can’t promise anything.” 

You hop on your horse, ready to put all that you did with him in a box and stuffed away.

“Stay safe. Be seeing you.” he whispers.

You don’t trust yourself to speak so you nod, not looking back as your horse takes you away.

You’re a good mile out when Leon hears a horse’s footsteps behind him, then heavy human ones. “Where is she?” 

“I told you to follow me quick, Chris. She’s gone. Just thought I’d give you the message personally so you didn’t have to wait here alone.” 

Chris sighs and looks at Leon with nothing but hate. Ironic. “It’s not hard to do your damn job.”

“Can say the same about you – so, drinks? Need one after today.” 

Chris looks Leon up and down, eyebrows furrowed when he does so. “When did you change your hat?”

He blinks, suddenly realizing his is a little tighter.

Miles out, you realize yours is a little looser.

You suppose you two will be seeing another again after all. When you do, you'll finally be ready.