#going to nap and then hitting the books

[telesodalite]

Woe, unfinished, mildly edited, fulfire fic tid-bits be upon you

-

Like a magnet, his optics kept drifting back to Misfire's face. His stupid, strangely charming face.

For a short while, after Clemency, it had been that face that haunted some of his nightmares. His recalls blurring the lines between the strange reality of Misfire's hands reaching into him to lock his fuel pump back into the very spot he'd pulled it from, and the fear that just as easily he could pull it out again. They had been bloody dreams. Dreams that had him startling awake, gripping his chest in the vain attempt to close what wasn't open, before spending the rest of the day avoiding Misfire's optics.

But now things were different. Not Misfire's face. No, that hadn't changed much. But Fulcrum's dreams had definitely changed. To say the least of what all rolled around in his processor as he slept nowadays.

Some of those newer dreams had crept to the forefront of his mind as he sat there on the couch, staring as the lights of the screen reflected dully across Misfire's plating in hazy blues and greys.

The lighting made his colors seem muddy and faded, but Fulcrum didn't really care, nor did he care to think what it made himself look like. He was too busy bringing an empty engex can to his lips while he watched the crinkle of Misfire's nose as he barked a laugh at something Fulcrum didn't catch onscreen.

He'd started noticing it months ago, all the ways the silvery mesh of Misfire's face would scrunch up with his emotions. Those little crinkles along his optics and nose when he laughed or glared. The creases indented along his cheeks when he grinned. Fulcrum found himself quietly logging away these little details. Idle notes and observations that had suddenly started piling up in the corners of his processer.

He… He'd never really done that before? He'd never really noticed those sorts of things in other mechs.

The faces and expressions of his past colleagues never seemed terribly important. All the details of every smile and frown were never worth filing away, outside of few notable moments where those expressions reflected his work performance. But besides the smile that meant promotion, and the frown that meant he'd screwed up, nothing else was noticeable. Nothing was worth remembering.

But now the memory of every genuine laugh that bubbled out of Misfire sat comfortably besides memories of warm joyful optics that Fulcrum found himself collecting every time Crankcase cracked a rare half-smile for him, or when Krok placed a reassuring hand against his back, or the times Spinister spontaneously pointed out something odd but ultimately nice about his stupid frame.

He didn't really know why he was doing it, memorizing all these mundane little things, just to have them flit through his processer randomly. Maybe it was because those expressions, those details, felt… comforting? Comforting in such a strange and unfamiliar way. But, a good way. A good sort of strange, much like the mechs themselves.

-

-

He had stared for a long moment, the credits and their rolling tune playing somewhere in the background as Fulcrum stared back. But Misfire was never one for personable silence, even as the sound of some likely long dead Iaconian orchestra filled the room.

"What is it?" He asked, a small chuckle escaping him as he brought a hand to his face, "Don't tell me I've poured it all over myself again."

It had taken Fulcrum longer than usual to unstick his glossa from the roof of his mouth as he watched Misfire run a thumb over his lips, but eventually he had coughed out a small, choked, "No."

That had earned him an odd look at first, but with their fields loose and open, Fulcrum could almost feel the exact moment something clicked in Misfire's mind, as the idle comfortable static he projected in pulsing waves evened out into something openly curious and almost subdued.

It wasn't often Fulcrum felt him that clearly.

Misfire tended to keep his field fairly close, though, maybe not as close as the others did, what with how Crankcase kept an iron grip on his, and how Krok's always held an air of strained control, even when it slipped from him. But still, Misfire's was always hard to read, no matter the reach or depth of his field.

Even then and there, with it loose and unfiltered and buzzing with the engex running through his system, there was an ever present undertone of something indescribably jumbled about him, like too many feelings at once, each too vast and hurried for Fulcrum to really feel or understand.

It always seemed to stir the passive anxiety Fulcrum must've been forged with when Misfire's field brushed against his own. As facing the indescribable vague mess of Misfire felt like trying to untangle a pile of live-wires he couldn't even see.

It was almost frustrating in a sense, the need to try and sort and understand what wasn't even his to begin with. But at the same time it was almost exciting as well. It was like a game, like a puzzle he had yet to solve.

-

-

Finally letting his own can go tumbling to the floor to join Misfire's, Fulcrum had brought a hand to cover his face as he drew his legs up and leaned back against the arm of the couch, trying to suppress the fit as the sly look slipped from Misfire's face at the sounds.

While Fulcrum had laughed, and… snorted, embarrassingly, he had felt Misfire's field change again, brushing something fizzy and almost warm against his plating as Misfire's features softened.

"I'm looking at you," Fulcrum had said then between gulps of air, letting his hand fall from his face as he reached out to poke at Misfire's chest, "Dumbaft."

His finger had lingered over the thick plating there for maybe a little longer than necessary, drawing Misfire's attention as it slid down a little before pulling away.

Looking back up again with his helm angled slightly, Misfire had followed the sight of his hand leaving his plating to where Fulcrum let it fall between them.

"Wow…" Misfire had chuckled a little dryly, "I was gonna make it real easy for you. I was going to say something like, ''Do you like what you see?'' or-… or something like that. But now you've ruined it. Good job."

Meeting Fulcrum's optics again as he pulled his own hand back from Fulcrum's shoulder, he brought it to rest between them as well.

"And you're laughing at me," He said next, faking a small pout as his hand drifted closer to Fulcrum's, "Which totally ruins the whole vibe I was going for really. I mean, it's sort of hard to be all nice and suave-like when you're being laughed at. Total vibe killer. Bit of an ego killer too if I'm being honest. So thanks for that loser, thanks for saying I have a funny face."

With Misfire's fingers brushing distractingly past his own, Fulcrum didn't think before the words stumbled out of him.

"I like your face."

It came out almost matter of fact sounding, Fulcrum's laughter having died down while Misfire complained about it. But at the same time the words felt so simple, they came out so easily, and in a weird way they felt nice to say. But Misfire's optics had widened in surprise, his frame frozen and his field suddenly struck quiet, and despite the engex numbing his usual nerves, Fulcrum felt a sudden pang of anxiety because of it.

The silence in Misfire's field was terribly alien. It felt wrong, and something in Fulcrum spiraled to think he had caused it. But slowly, almost as if it were creeping forward, an odd almost scrutinizing uncertainty fanned outward in a careful wave. Misfire moved with it, leaning closer as he searched Fulcrum's expression for something.

"Oh yeah?" He'd said lowly then, and that sly look returned. But that vague uncertainty didn't fade with it, if anything, Fulcrum felt it strengthen. Caught between what he saw, in Misfire's easy smile and dimmed optics, and what he felt, in the growing hollow distance within their fields, Fulcrum found himself frowning and pulling back.

-

-

Growing frustrated with himself, and wanting that feeling back, he had pushed forward, shifting onto his knees as he reached for Misfire's face before the other could pull away from him entirely.

"I like your face." He said firmly, maybe too firmly. His expression still drawn into a frown as he pressed his fingers into Misfire's helm, brushing his thumbs across the silver mesh he'd been staring so intently at before. "I like your optics, and your nose. I- I like the way you smile. When you really smile, and when you laugh. I do. I'm not lying."

And oh there it was again, that little curl of warmth in Misfire's field. Almost a tangible thing, like a brush of ventilation, but Misfire wasn't venting. His mouth hung open ever so slightly, but no breath left him as he stared at Fulcrum with widening optics.

Spurred on by that tiny bloom of warmth, Fulcrum chased after it with slightly slurred words and clumsy hands as he tried to fix whatever he'd done wrong, hoping with each word that Misfire might soften and smile again.

"I like your expressions, and- and I like your voice," He said, glancing down at Misfire's parted lips, and laughing softly, nervously, as he continued, "Even when you say something so stupid. I like- I like the way it sounds. I like your accent, I like the way it makes your words sound. I- I like your- your mouth?"

Once more that weird but nice feeling settled in Fulcrum's chest. Those simple words felt good to say. It felt like a weight off his shoulders, like an admission he'd been waiting to say. About what and why? He wasn't really sure. But the warmth grew, and Misfire took a sharp vent inwards, and that felt right, so Fulcrum kept on.

"I like your helm," He said with a smile, reaching up to brush his fingers over the jutting finials there, before dropping his hands to settle lightly over Misfire's chest. "I like your frame, the colors of it. I like your-"

Before he could finish, Misfire was surging forward, knocking their helms together and nearly bruising the mesh of their noses as he tried for, and just barely missed, Fulcrum's lips.

-

👁👁👍

[buildoblivion]

See, the thing about Crowley living in his car in s2 is that I left the s1 finale with the impression that both of them finished their lunch, staggered their way back to the book shop (gently sloshed) and spent the night getting absolutely hammered. Like drain the wine cellar, night on the town, capital-P Pissed.

It’s all a bit ‘rambunctious’, as a fussy and well read angel might say.

Crowley wakes up on Aziraphale’s sofa a week later - covered in a blanket, various papers and a copy of the Sunday times.

A pot of tea’s just finished steeping, there’s cake in the tin. Somewhere across the shop, a tartan-clad figure hums (rather untunefully) to himself as he pours over a crackled hardback book.

If you asked Crowley, it’s all quite civilised, if a tad “country living magazine”. A little gauche. A bit twee - not really his ‘style’.

But he doesn’t reach for his glasses, or pat his jacket for his keys.

After all, he thinks, stretching what’s probably the correct number of limbs and reaching out for a bone china cup, why on Her green earth would he ever want to leave?

[keypostos]

caleb is 10 when he realizes that he's a physical touch fiend. the rush he gets when his hand lingers on top of your skin after playing with you is like no other. when he presses into your side while you're reading, his thoughts always circle around one topic: you, you, you. when you would run into his room after a nightmare, caleb was ready to swoop you in his arms and hold you until you fell asleep. every response towards you was involuntary.

caleb is 15 when he realizes that teasing 13-year-old you becomes irresistible. when he holds up your book, pencil, or some other item in the air, he watches as you jump up and down to try and grab it back. he's grown a lot in three years; if he had to estimate, he's a whole head taller than you now—20cm at least.

when you throw yourself onto him in an attempt to get your stuff back, he falters. you're laying against him on the couch, shuffling and moving up and down over his body, and caleb's breath hitches. you're so close and right there.

he's going insane. you can't even stand up for five seconds before caleb pulls you down against him once more, saying something about retaliation or revenge while tickling you to death.

caleb is 20 when he's about to leave for the DAA. there's an air of silence around the house. you've trapped yourself in your room more often, stressing over your senior finals. at least, that's what you've been telling him.

"i'm sorry caleb, i really need to study for this test."

"oh! i totally forgot about that project i had due tonight. shit, i'm sorry caleb. we'll have another movie night soon, okay?"

he doesn't know if you're actually this busy or if you're actually ignoring him. all he does know is that he misses you. he wonders about how he could miss someone who was in the room across from him. you were so close, but so far.

when you found out he was leaving—though you had a grin on your face while congratulating him—caleb knew you were devastated. he wondered if you were secretly mad at him for leaving.

two weeks before his departure, he practically forces you to be around him. he laid down next to you like before. he stroked your hair while you napped on the couch. he teased you and picked you up so you could hit him and grab him like you used to. he always chose to put his arm around you during a movie. he dragged you by the hand all around the neighborhood. he needed to all of that again, a thousand times more.

but at 24, it seems like there may have been a wedge between the two of you. calls are more and more infrequent.

"sorry, space signal sucks," he'd type.

"sorry, i was busy with training!" you'd reply, 2 days later.

he thinks that he would do anything to go back to before. he hasn't felt you in months. he sees you only twice a year.

it's hard. it was excruciating during the first few weeks. not only was he dealing with bootcamp, but he always found himself looking to his side, thinking you'd be there with him. at night, you were there, right next to him in bed.

he imagined that you would whisper words of reassurance in his ear. you'd hold onto him like you used to, when you had nightmares, and wrap your legs between his. there were days where we stroked his necklace, wishing that it was your hand instead. what he would give to have you next to him.

all he wants is to be able to feel you again. he chastises his 10-year-old self for taking you for granted back then. he wants to feel the apples of your cheeks when he caresses your face. once,—when he was 13 (you, 11)—he did that, and he thought you had a fever the way you warmed up. if he could, caleb would build a time machine to go back to that.

caleb is 25 when he is out of your life.

he thinks about you every day. it reminds him of when he was in bootcamp five years ago. it takes him back to when he was fifteen; you were on top of him, and his brain was fried to a crisp. caleb wonders if he's always been this way, because he can recall that at ten, you were still the only thing consuming his mind.

even during his arm repairs, you're there throughout all the pain.

when you discover his metal arm, all of caleb's instincts point to the door. he's spent so long trying to hide it from you: it's the constant long-sleeves (even though they made him incredibly uncomfortable), or making sure to only touch you with his left-hand (even though he wanted to pull you in with both hands).

but he stays. because it's you.

you freeze momentarily, listening to his writhes and moans of pain. caleb only notices you're there when he feels your hands brush his shoulder. he jolts back in surprise, and he sees you looming over him.

he stammers something, not even sure of what he said because you're here. you see him. you see it.

caleb's wanted this for so long. he wanted to see you again, in a state where you were both vulnerable, like old times. however, that moment probably wouldn't have come if he doesn't confess about this, so he relays the details.

you listen attentively, eyes wide with shock as caleb goes on. your hands wrap around his metal one, and he feels nothing. it's agonizing. he sees you examine him so gently. your fingers trace over bolts and plates of metal, lightly stroking up and down his arm. and caleb feels nothing.

how often has he dreamed of this? for you to be touching him again, so intimately and softly? he's stayed up countless nights wishing for you to be here, just so he can put his arms around you in a crushing embrace, only to be incapable of feeling you on one side of his body.

you pull away from his arm, asking if the fleet was accountable. when he doesn't say anything, he feels your weight lift off the bed and go towards the door.

whatever happens next is involuntary. he uses his flesh arm to pull you back, caging you between his forearm and his chest. there's no thought to it, no rationalization. it's just you and him. and he's been deprived of this for so long.

he breathes into the crevice of your neck, and he has half a mind to place his entire face there. he wants to breathe you in after being away from you for so long. no conversations, no contact, no touching. the last time he was this close to you was years ago. he needs this, caleb thinks.

the feel of you against his bare chest is something he cannot seem to describe. it's like he's his teenage (or even kid) self again, where he seems to short-circuit whenever he comes in contact with you. you're still small compared to him, but you fit perfectly like you did a decade ago.

he lets you go after he feels you trembling. you don't hesitate to place your hands on his waist and tackle him onto the bed. you catch him off-guard as you pin him beneath you, looking straight into his eyes.

"hold me," you plead, "with your right hand."

caleb lets out a shaky breath. there are voltages of electricity flowing through him—literally and figuratively. his skin sparks alive when he feels you. will it be the same with the metal arm?

slowly, caleb raises his mechanical arm. he wraps it around you, and feels the movement of your back shift downwards. you released a breath you didn't know you were holding. caleb held his.

you wait patiently before caleb starts running his metal hand up and down your back. you watch him exhale as he continues. you press your forehead on his, and you breathe in tandem with him.

caleb is 25 when he discovers that he loves physical touch.

wow like i didn't expect this to get so long... but like here we are???

i think we need to start embracing touch-starved caleb in all of our fics. this man hasn't seen the love of his life in YEARS (infrequently, anyway) so i think once she touches him (like INTIMATELY) for the first time in years he goes a little cray.

also sorry the ending was rushed i wanted to get this over with bc i intented this to be like 500 words but obviously it got way longer than that. what can i say... this freak has dug into my brain.

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles: Love Triangles and Royal Rumbles - Leona Kingscholar x Reader

When you get isekai'd as the male lead in the novel where your favorite character, Leona Kingscholar is the second male lead, all that's left to do is rewrite the romance!

Series Masterlist

You're just an average person, doing normal human things like eating, sleeping, and, of course, staring at your poster of Leona Kingscholar for three hours straight. Totally healthy behavior. People have hobbies, right? Some knit, some jog, and you…? You defend your fictional lion husband from slander on the internet. You’re practically a digital knight in shining armor.

The story that has consumed your very soul? Oh, just your typical Cliché Villainess Academy Novel: Revenge Edition™. The plot is so by-the-book, it’s basically a war crime against creativity. Female lead? She’s been in love with the male lead since he gave some boring welcome speech that apparently hit her so hard, her brain rewired itself into a romantic mess.

The villainess? Obviously in love with the male lead too, but her one and only goal in life is making the heroine’s existence a never-ending trainwreck of public embarrassment. And the male lead? Sweet summer child. He just wants to get his degree and avoid eye contact with all of these lunatics.

Enter: Leona Kingscholar, the second male lead. The man, the myth, the walking sarcasm machine. He’s there purely to fuel jealousy in everyone else’s love story, but for you? He’s everything. The brooding, lazy, hot second male lead who rolls his eyes at every plot point like he’s just as done with this novel as you are. He has better things to do, like nap, but here he is, dragged into this mess by proximity.

If it were up to you, he and the male lead would run off together, leave the heroine and villainess to start their own hobby club about emotional devastation, and the two guys would live happily ever after in matching beach chairs somewhere.

But no. Instead, you’re stuck reading about her fawning over him while Leona is just… there. Existing. The only thing keeping your interest alive.

And now? Now, your loyalty to Leona Kingscholar is about to pay off. The fan event of the century is just days away. It’s going to be glorious. A whole day dedicated to Leona—merch, fan contests, life-sized cardboard cutouts (which, let’s be honest, you’re ready to risk it all for). You've cleared your schedule, mentally prepared yourself for the inevitable squealing, and created a battle plan for acquiring the best merch before everyone else.

But fate? Fate’s cruel.

You’re casually defending Leona’s honor online as usual, battling some no-name troll who dares to claim that the male lead is "better written." (HA! You laugh in their wrong face.) But then—what’s this? A an likes your tweet about Leona! And not just any author. THE ONE YOU LOVE. The serotonin shoots through you like an adrenaline shot straight to the brain.

Your heart’s racing. You’re vibrating at a frequency only dogs can hear. You leap out of your chair like some majestic gazelle—or at least that’s what you tell yourself as you promptly trip over the plushie army that guards your floor.

Before you know it, you’re tumbling, body flailing like a noodle, bouncing down the stairs in what feels like slow motion. The world spins. Your merch shelves mock you from the distance. You land at the bottom in a heap, your soul floating just above your body.

"Is this… how it ends?" you wheeze, gasping for breath, more in shock than pain. As your vision starts to fade, all you can think is: I never made it to the Leona event….

And with that, you die. Crushed under the weight of fandom.

You wake up, and your first thought isn’t the usual, “Oh, I’ve been isekai’d into a new world, how fascinating, I’ll have time to adjust in a moment of peace and reflection.” No. You wake up and it hits you like a brick: Oh no. Female lead.

But then, a beam of hope breaks through the clouds of despair and shines down on you like a heavenly spotlight: Wait. Leona Kingscholar is here.

Before you can even revel in the thought of being in the same universe as your broody lion crush, reality smacks you upside the head. Loud voices are pulling you back to the scene unfolding right in front of your very eyes.

You blink. Hold on. This is not a bedroom, and this is definitely not a private moment to gather your thoughts like in every other isekai novel. Oh no, you’ve been thrown directly into the group project scene.

You know, the one where the villainess is sharpening her claws on the heroine while Leona watches from the sidelines like he’s two seconds away from a permanent nap? Yeah, you’re smack in the middle of it.

The villainess, looking as pissed off as usual, is glaring daggers at the trembling heroine, who is staring at you with those wide, teary eyes like you’re supposed to swoop in and save her from this verbal smackdown.

And that’s when it hits you: you’re the male lead. The original goody-two-shoes, justice-loving male lead who always stepped in to defend the heroine. The one who got suckered into every cliché moment, complete with sparkles and heroic speeches about morality and blah blah blah.

Not you, though.

You take one look at the heroine. She’s giving you this look like you’re her knight in shining armor, expecting you to throw yourself in front of her and deliver some dramatic monologue about kindness and decency. And you? You're mentally checking out of this scene faster than the speed of light.

Nah. You’re not about that life.

Your gaze drifts to Leona, sitting on the far side of the room, slouched over like he’s wondering why he’s being subjected to this emotional soap opera when he could be napping. His face screams "done," and honestly? Same. He meets your gaze, eyes half-lidded and bored, probably hoping you’ll do the usual male lead routine and put an end to this nonsense.

But oh no, today’s different.

You casually stroll over to where Leona is sitting, ignoring the drama unfolding behind you. With the swagger of someone who knows exactly what they’re about to do is going to blow some minds, you hold out your hand to him. "So, uh… you want to ditch this disaster and go take a nap? Or maybe raid the kitchens? I’m thinking we play hooky and pretend this never happened."

Leona’s eyes flicker with surprise for half a second. The male lead? The goody-two-shoes-moral-compass of the entire plot? The guy who literally lived to stop drama in its tracks? Is offering to blow off this whole mess? He raises an eyebrow, smirking like the cat who caught the canary.

"Didn’t think you had it in you," Leona drawls, but you can tell he’s already down for this. "Alright. Let’s go. If anyone asks, I’m gonna say you dragged me out."

"Deal," you say, trying not to look too smug. And with that, you turn on your heel, and with Leona at your side, you head for the door, leaving behind a shell-shocked villainess and a teary-eyed heroine who’s probably still processing the fact that her supposed knight in shining armor just dipped.

As you and Leona stroll out, you hear the villainess mutter, “What… just happened?” and you can’t help but grin. You may have just turned the plot upside down, but at least you’re doing it in style.

"Hey, Leona," you say, nudging him, "think we can find some of those fancy desserts in the kitchen? I’m starving."

Leona snorts, shoving his hands into his pockets. "If you’re buying, sure."

And just like that, the male lead and the second male lead walk off into the sunset—or rather, the campus courtyard—hand in hand with a new mission: Avoiding all future plot nonsense at all costs.

You’re not sure how you got here, staring at the over-the-top ball decorations like you’ve stepped into a bargain bin fairytale, but hey, life has taken a weird turn lately. You, of all people, are living out the plot of a novel so cliché it makes your head hurt.

But you guess that’s what happens when you get isekai’d into a second-rate villainess story. The only thing missing is a glass slipper and some woodland creatures to sing with.

And of course, surprise! The ball isn’t just some casual evening of sipping punch and avoiding the villainess’s death stares. No, if you don’t nail the ball, you don’t graduate. Because nothing says "academic achievement" like knowing how to waltz while dressed like a background character from Bridgerton.

So here you are, in ball lessons, where everyone is nervously pairing off while you’re trying not to roll your eyes into another dimension. The heroine, with her usual doe-eyed sparkle, gets paired with you first. And let’s be real: she’s either terrible at dancing, or she’s using this as an excuse to get you to hold her close.

But you? Oh no. You’ve read enough of this garbage to know where that’s going, and you have zero interest in playing out the “close embrace, sparks flying, almost-kiss” trope. Absolutely not.

As soon as the music starts, you decide it’s time to act. You let your feet stumble—deliberately, of course—and flail around like you’ve never seen a ballroom floor in your life. The heroine, bless her clueless heart, giggles like she thinks you’re just being cute, but you’re not about to humor this. When the instructor’s eyes lock onto you, you seize the opportunity.

"Oh no!" you say dramatically, throwing a hand over your forehead like you’re in some kind of soap opera. "I’m so bad at this. Could someone please teach me how to dance?"

You pause, glance around the room, and then lock eyes with Leona Kingscholar.

"Leona!" you shout, loud enough that the whole room freezes. "You’re the second prince! You must’ve had etiquette lessons, right? Teach me how to dance!"

The room collectively loses its mind. The heroine looks like you’ve just slapped her with a glove and challenged her to a duel. The villainess is staring at you like you’ve lost your marbles. And Leona? Leona’s expression is somewhere between utter confusion and why me.

Leona leans back, crossing his arms, visibly annoyed. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mutters, but there’s no denying the faint twitch of a smirk at the corner of his mouth when he sees the heroine and villainess get shoved into an awkward dancing pair together.

Despite his clear irritation, Leona steps forward, because let’s face it, he’s the kind of guy who’ll humor you if it means avoiding worse drama. You slide into position with him, and honestly? You’re in heaven. You can barely focus on your feet, too busy trying to hide your grin while you imagine all the drama this is causing behind you.

Meanwhile, the heroine and the villainess are floundering around, tripping over each other like they’ve got two left feet each. The villainess is grinding her teeth, and the heroine keeps stepping on her toes. It’s a glorious disaster.

Leona, despite his annoyance, is surprisingly good at this. He’s leading with the kind of effortless grace that makes you wonder how someone so lazy can still be so competent at everything. You’re definitely not staring at his sharp features while he dances, not at all.

"You do realize this is a waste of time, right?" Leona grumbles under his breath, his eyes flicking to the chaos unfolding behind you. "Why me, herbivore? You could’ve asked anyone else."

You just shrug, trying not to sound too smug. "What can I say? I have excellent taste in dance partners."

Leona’s brow twitches like he’s torn between smirking and rolling his eyes. "Yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night." But the smirk wins out, especially when the villainess and heroine fumble yet again, nearly toppling over each other.

You glance up at him, beaming. Leona Kingscholar might be annoyed, but he’s not stopping anytime soon. And you? You’re just here for the ride, watching the heroine and villainess self-destruct from the safety of Leona’s arms.

Ball lessons? Piece of cake.

You’ve been doing everything humanly possible to avoid the female lead like she’s a carrier of the medieval plague. You thought you’d be safe here, hiding behind your “I’m too busy and mysterious for romance” persona, but no—somehow—the more you avoid her, the more she’s convinced that you’re the dark, brooding, irresistible male lead she’s always dreamed of.

You know, the type who avoids emotional connections but secretly harbors a heart of gold. But the truth is, you’re just a guy trying to get through the day so you can swoon over Leona Kingscholar in peace.

It’s not like you’ve been subtle about it either. You’ve been dropping hints left and right, hoping the universe would give you a break and let the female lead fall in love with literally anyone else. But no. Somehow, everyone is ignoring your very obvious affection for Leona.

It’s like you’re stuck in a tragic comedy where the female lead falls harder for you the more you try to disappear, and Leona just… well, he’s just living his best life, completely unaware of your internal screaming.

Take the latest tea party, for example. You were just trying to enjoy some pastries, maybe steal a glance at Leona from across the table, when the heroine decides to make her move. She picks up a delicate slice of cake and holds it out to you, eyes sparkling with that innocent-yet-hopeful look that says, “This is our moment.”

You? You’re not having any of that. Nope. No way. You’re not about to be part of this rom-com narrative. So, without missing a beat, you casually take the cake from her and, in one smooth motion, turn and offer it to Leona, who’s lounging lazily next to you, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

Leona raises an eyebrow at you, clearly baffled by why you’re holding out cake like he’s some sort of royal who expects to be hand-fed. “What are you doing?” he mutters, looking suspiciously between you and the cake.

“Just thought you’d like some,” you say with a straight face, ignoring the heroine’s stunned expression. She’s sitting there, fork still poised in the air, blinking rapidly like you’ve just committed the greatest betrayal of the century.

Leona huffs, looking mildly irritated but mostly confused. After a pause, he shrugs and leans forward, taking a bite of the cake without even bothering to lift his own hand. “Whatever,” he mutters between chews. “Tastes fine.”

You nod, satisfied. Meanwhile, the heroine looks like she’s on the verge of tears, and the villainess is smirking in the background like she’s about to take out popcorn and enjoy the drama.

Later that day, you find a nice, quiet spot under a tree to relax. You’ve managed to avoid any major incidents so far, and for once, you’re not being dragged into some dramatic showdown. You lie back, close your eyes, and just let yourself chill. But, of course, the universe doesn’t want you to have peace.

Enter Leona.

Without a word, he flops down next to you, takes one look at your position, and decides—out of all the places he could sit—that your lap is the best pillow option available. You feel his head plop down on your lap like this is the most normal thing in the world. You stare down at him, completely dumbfounded, while he just closes his eyes and lets out a long, satisfied sigh.

“Leona?” you start, voice half bewildered, half amused. “You good?”

“Shut up,” he mutters without opening his eyes. “You’re more comfortable than the grass.”

You blink at him, not sure whether to laugh or cry. Meanwhile, the villainess strolls by, spots the two of you under the tree, and comes to an immediate halt. Her face contorts into a mix of disbelief and confusion, like she’s just witnessed something unholy. You can almost hear her mental scream of, what the hell is going on here?!

She doesn’t say anything, though. Just stands there, hands clenched, before turning on her heel and storming off. You don’t even care. You’re too busy reveling in the fact that Leona chose your lap as his personal resting place. If that isn’t a win, you don’t know what is.

And then, of course, there’s the infamous hallway incident. The heroine—who, by this point, you’re pretty sure has developed some kind of radar for finding you—comes running toward you. She trips over something (the air? her own foot? you don’t know) and launches herself straight into your arms in what is clearly an attempt to trigger some rom-com, slow-motion embrace.

But you? You’re not here for this.

With the reflexes of a seasoned avoider, you sidestep her dramatic fall, and she goes face-first into the floor. There’s a stunned silence as she lies there, unmoving, probably processing how she ended up eating dirt.

You glance over at Leona, who’s watching the whole thing with a lazy smirk, clearly enjoying the trainwreck. You give him a slight nod of approval, and he just rolls his eyes, a small grin still tugging at his lips.

The villainess, standing a few feet away, is laughing her head off. She’s doubled over, clutching her stomach, while the heroine’s dignity is scattered all over the floor. But you? You’re just staring at Leona, completely ignoring the chaos around you.

Somehow, despite all the madness, you can’t help but think: this is fine.

The day of the big spelldrive match arrives, and the heroine has never looked more confident in her life. She’s decked out in her team’s colors, standing tall at the edge of the field, waiting for you to join her in your usual spot. You know, like a loyal dog. A loyal, obedient dog who always does what she expects.

But not today.

Today, you roll up to the game decked out head to toe in full Savanaclaw merch. We're talking a custom jersey with Leona’s name on the back, a headband, face paint, and—just to really emphasize the point—a Savanaclaw banner tied around your neck like you’ve decided to cosplay as Captain Lion Fang.

You take your seat in the Savanaclaw section and immediately start hyping up the crowd like you’re getting paid for it. The heroine spots you from across the field and stares like she’s watching a crime scene unfold in real-time. Meanwhile, Leona’s already spotted you, and the smug smirk on his face tells you he’s LOVING the attention.

The game kicks off, and with each goal Leona scores, you’re going feral.

You’re screaming your lungs out, waving your banner around like you’re auditioning for some weird mascot gig. People are looking at you like you’ve lost your mind, but you don’t care. This is YOUR moment.

Leona, on the field, is living for it. Every time he glances your way, he adds a little extra flair to his plays, just to make you scream louder. He scores, and you’re on your feet, jumping up and down like you’ve won the lottery.

At this point, the heroine is practically catatonic. Her world is crumbling before her eyes. You can practically see her brain struggling to process what she’s witnessing: you, her loyal supporter, decked out in Savanaclaw gear and cheering for her rival.

“I... I don’t understand…” she whispers, her voice trembling like she’s been betrayed by the universe itself. “Why aren’t you cheering for us?”

You turn to her with all the nonchalance of someone who’s just ordered fries at a drive-thru. “Uh… Leona’s hot?”

It’s like you slapped her across the face with a wet fish. She stands there, frozen, her eyes wide, like she’s witnessing the fall of an empire. "B-But... you're supposed to support me!"

Before you can reply with another devastating truth bomb, Leona casually strolls over after winning the game, looking like he just walked out of a perfume ad. His hair’s tousled, a thin sheen of sweat making him look even more annoyingly handsome. He stops in front of you, smirking like he’s been planning this moment his entire life.

"Didn’t know you were my biggest fan," he drawls, voice low and lazy. “Gotta say, I’m impressed with your enthusiasm. Screamin’ my name like that… kinda hard to ignore.”

You open your mouth, ready to fire back with something witty, but what comes out is more of a high-pitched squeak, followed by, “Hahaha, Y-Yeah… you’re welcome?”

And then, the words that break you: “How ‘bout we celebrate with a nap?”

Your brain freezes. A nap? You? With Leona? Your heart is doing cartwheels while the rest of your organs are busy melting into a puddle. Your mouth is moving, but all that comes out is an unintelligible “Uhhuhmm.”

Leona chuckles, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. He reaches out, grabbing your wrist, and starts dragging you off with him—right in front of everyone. He doesn’t even care that the entire field is watching. He’s already made up his mind.

The heroine, meanwhile, is standing there in stunned silence, her brain fully blue-screening as she watches you and Leona disappear. She’s still processing the Leona’s comment when the villainess, who has been observing this whole disaster unfold, finally chimes in from the sidelines with a shrug.

“Well, as long as it’s not the heroine,” she says, flicking her hair back with an air of satisfaction. “This is fine.”

And off you go, being dragged to a nap date you’re definitely not mentally prepared for, your face burning hotter than the sun. Leona glances back at you, that smug smirk still plastered on his face. "You’re lookin’ a little red there. You sure you’re up for this?"

You sputter, tripping over your own words. "I-I’m fine! Totally fine! Nap? Cool! Casual napping! No big deal!”

Leona just chuckles again, clearly entertained by how much you're floundering. “If you say so. Just don’t pass out before we get there.”

Yeah. Don’t pass out. Easier said than done when the man of your dreams is casually dragging you off to nap like it's no big deal while your brain screams at you in ten different languages.

This is fine. Totally fine. You’re fine.

Maybe.

You were sitting with Jack and Ruggie at the cafeteria, chatting about nothing in particular—well, Jack was chatting. Ruggie was there purely because you promised to pay for his lunch. Still, you’d like to think that maybe, just maybe, he stuck around because he actually enjoyed your company. Maybe.

“So, any tips on how to deal with midterms?” Jack asked, ears twitching as he looked at you with that wide-eyed eagerness that only first-years ever had. He was honestly like a giant puppy, trying so hard to be good.

You leaned back in your chair, doing your best impression of a wise and worldly senior, which mostly involved pretending you weren’t sweating about your own midterms. “My advice? Caffeine. And if you have the chance to sleep, take it. Oh, and don’t forget to eat. I learned that one the hard way.”

Jack nodded seriously, committing it all to memory like you were passing down sacred knowledge. Meanwhile, Ruggie was on his third helping of food, barely acknowledging the conversation.

"Hey, if you're handing out wisdom, how ‘bout you tell me how to get free food more often?” Ruggie said between bites, shooting you a cheeky grin.

“Isn’t that already your specialty?” you shot back, eyeing the mountain of food in front of him.

He just laughed. “Can’t argue with that, but having backup plans never hurt.”

Before you could respond, you felt a shadow fall over the table. You looked up, half expecting it to be the heroine or some random classmate, but nope. It was Leona. Leona, who you were 99% sure had skipped class because he always skips class. And he looked… annoyed?

Oh no.

He ignored Jack and Ruggie completely, his sharp gaze zeroing in on you like you’d committed some grave crime. “Oi, herbivore,” he drawled, hands in his pockets like this wasn’t weird at all. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?” you asked, blinking up at him. Leona never approached people unless he wanted something.

“To the tree,” he said flatly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“The tree?” Jack echoed, ears perking up in confusion.

Ruggie, on the other hand, was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Oho~ Someone’s in demand.”

Leona shot Ruggie a look that could’ve curdled milk. “Shut it, Ruggie.”

Your brain was still trying to process the situation. You were sitting here, minding your own business, giving sage advice about caffeine and survival, and now Leona was dragging you off to his tree like it was completely normal?

He didn’t wait for an answer. He just grabbed your wrist, yanking you up from your seat as if this was some kind of kidnap situation, and started walking toward the courtyard.

“Uh—Leona? What’s going on?” you asked, doing your best to keep up without tripping over your own feet.

Leona didn’t even look back. “You’re talkin’ too much. Need some peace and quiet.”

You blinked, thoroughly confused but not necessarily mad about being dragged off. It’s just… “Why am I involved in your nap plans?”

“’Cause I said so.”

Wow, cryptic. You were about to ask again when you reached the tree. The infamous Leona nap spot. He plopped down against the trunk and, before you could protest, pulled you down next to him. Without another word, he stretched out and—because apparently boundaries didn’t exist—rested his head on your lap.

This was… This was happening.

You glanced around, half expecting to see a camera crew pop out and tell you this was some elaborate prank, but nope. Leona was lounging on you like it was the most natural thing in the world, eyes already closed, arms crossed behind his head.

“Uh, Leona?”

“Shut up. M’ tryin’ to sleep.”

You stared down at him, your brain short-circuiting. This was the third time this week he’d done this. Just… kidnapped you for a nap. What was his deal? Was your lap particularly comfortable? Did you radiate some kind of sleepy aura? What was going on here?

Meanwhile, from the distance, you spotted her. The villainess. Watching. For the third time in as many days. And you could see it. You could see the moment she put the pieces together. Her eyes widened in slow realization, her lips twitching into a smirk. She knew. She finally knew.

When Leona finally woke up—after what felt like hours of you sitting there, too dazed to move—you were free. For now. He stretched lazily and gave you a casual “Thanks,” as if this wasn’t the most bizarre situation you’d ever been in, and you quickly scrambled away, making your way back to the dorms with your head spinning.

And that’s when the villainess cornered you.

Oh no.

There she was, leaning against the doorframe with a knowing look, her sharp gaze trained on you like a predator sizing up its prey. You swallowed nervously. She was about to confront you about the heroine, wasn’t she? This was it. This was the moment. Was she going to declare some rivalry? Challenge you to a duel? Confess to you? Make this whole thing painfully awkward?

She smiled, and it was not the evil grin you were expecting. “I’m on your side.”

You blinked. “…What?”

She pushed off the wall, stepping closer, her eyes gleaming with a new kind of intensity. “Leona. I know you’re after him.”

Your heart stopped. This was it. She was going to call you out and—wait, what did she just say?

“I’ll help you confess to Leona,” she said, matter-of-factly. “On one condition.”

You were staring at her like she’d just sprouted wings and started speaking in tongues. “You… will?”

She nodded. “Yes. If you help me become more influential than that heroine, I’ll help you get Leona to notice you more.”

You blinked again, processing her words. She wanted your help to outshine the heroine, and in exchange, she’d be your wingwoman? Wingwoman?!

You grinned, holding out your hand for a dramatic shake. “Hell yeah.”

She clasped your hand, her smile mirroring yours. "Consider it a deal."

And just like that, you walked away from the most unexpected alliance of your life, fully equipped with a villainess-turned-wingwoman and a new plan to win over Leona.

Honestly? Life was getting weirder by the day.

“Okay, so just to confirm,” Ruggie’s eyes glinted with mischief as he leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head. “You want us to sit through this poetry reading,” he said, drawing out the word like it was some cursed phrase, “and cheer for the villainess. And in return, I get all the food left over?”

“Yup,” you nodded, trying to keep a straight face.

“And Jack’s here because…?”

“I asked him nicely.”

Jack shrugged, tail flicking behind him. “I’m just here to help.”

Ruggie snorted, glancing at you with a grin. “This better be some damn good poetry then. And the food better be worth it.”

“Oh, trust me,” you said, patting Ruggie on the back. “It will be.”

Little did you know, this was going to be a disaster of epic proportions.

The poetry reading started as expected—with the heroine striding up to the front of the room, practically glowing under the dim spotlight. She cleared her throat, clasped her hands dramatically, and began.

“It was a night… much like tonight…”

Your first instinct was to cringe, but you held it in, glancing sideways at Jack and Ruggie. Jack was doing his best to stay stoic, but you could see his ears twitching in discomfort. Ruggie had his hand over his mouth, clearly biting back laughter.

The poem continued, painfully dragging on about stars and roses and something about “destiny’s kiss.” By the time she reached the end, there was a collective sigh of relief from the audience. You weren’t even sure what you had just listened to, but you knew it wasn’t good.

Jack… Jack was crying. You stared at him, horrified. “Are you okay?”

“It’s… it’s so bad,” he sniffed, wiping his eyes. “I didn’t know poetry could be this bad.”

Ruggie had his face buried in his hands, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “This is better than I thought,” he wheezed.

You shot him a look, but even you had to admit, this was pure comedy gold. Poor Jack had no idea what hit him.

The villainess, bless her heart, was watching all of this unfold with a look of shock and confusion, but when it was finally her turn to read, she stepped up like a queen. Her voice was smooth, the words flowing like silk, and you couldn’t help but be genuinely impressed. She absolutely killed it.

The plan was working perfectly. You and your crew started clapping, cheering like you were at a rock concert. Jack, who was still recovering from the emotional trauma of the heroine’s poem, clapped too, albeit more quietly.

But just as you were about to get even louder, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Oi, sit down,” Leona grumbled, pulling you back into your seat.

“What—?”

He didn’t offer any explanation, just kept you firmly seated next to him, his face set in a bored expression. You blinked in confusion but decided not to argue. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy sitting next to Leona… it was just weird.

And by the grin the villainess was sporting, it seems like everything went exactly according to plan. Both for her and you.

After the poetry reading wrapped up, you gathered the leftovers like you promised. Ruggie was already hovering around, practically drooling over the spread.

“Here, take it all,” you said, handing the basket over. “Deal’s a deal.”

Ruggie beamed, clutching the food to his chest like a treasure hoard. “Pleasure doing business with ya!”

Jack was much more polite, bowing his head slightly. “Thanks for the notes. They’ll be a big help.”

“Anytime,” you replied with a smile, watching the two of them head off. Ruggie was already halfway through a sandwich, talking a mile a minute, while Jack followed along, still looking like he might need therapy after the heroine’s performance.

That left you alone… with Leona, who had been standing off to the side, arms crossed, watching you with an unreadable expression.

“What?” you asked, half-expecting him to complain about something. He always had something to complain about.

“You mind explaining what the hell that was?”

“Uh… what do you mean?”

Leona’s tail flicked in irritation, his eyes narrowing. “I’m talking about you, whispering and giggling with that villainess all the time. What, you after her now that you ditched the heroine?”

You blinked at him, utterly baffled. “What? No, of course not. Why would I be after her?”

Leona’s jaw clenched. “You tell me. All I’ve seen is you hangin’ around with her, whispering, plottin’... I’ve seen how you look at her.”

It took a moment for your brain to catch up, but then it hit you like a ton of bricks.

Oh my god. He was jealous.

A slow grin spread across your face as the realization sunk in. Leona, Leona Kingscholar, was jealous. And over you.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “You’re jealous~.”

Leona froze, his eyes widening for a split second before narrowing dangerously. “What?”

“You’re jealous,” you repeated, giddiness bubbling up inside you. You could barely contain your excitement. “You’re jealous of me hanging out with the villainess!”

Leona’s lips pulled into a thin line. “You’re imagining things.”

“Oh no, no, no,” you grinned even wider, poking him in the chest. “You’re totally jealous!”

Leona growled, looking thoroughly annoyed now, but before he could snap back, you quickly explained. “Look, I made a deal with her. I help her become more influential than the heroine, and she helps me… confess to you.”

Leona blinked, taken aback, his tail flicking behind him as if processing the information. Then, in true Leona fashion, his expression shifted from irritation to smugness in record time.

“Oh?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Yeah, so you don’t have to worry about me chasing after anyone else.”

Leona stepped closer, his voice dropping low, that usual lazy drawl making your heart do a little flip. “Good. But just so you know, cheek kisses aren’t real kisses.”

Before you could ask what he meant, Leona leaned in and kissed you—properly kissed you. Your eyes went wide for a second before you melted into it, feeling the heat of his lips against yours. He pulled back after what felt like forever, a smirk on his face as he watched you try to catch your breath.

“There. That’s a real kiss,” he murmured, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

You stared at him, dazed, and then a sudden realization hit you.

You left your entire life behind, all for this moment.

And you were so, so glad that stupid plushie was on the floor, because this? This was totally worth it.

The heroine’s voice was as sweet as it was grating, like sugar poured directly into your ears. She fluttered her eyelashes at you, her smile stretched painfully wide. “So, I was thinking,” she began, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “You would make the perfect knight for my family! Don’t you think so?”

You blinked, trying to figure out a way to escape. “Uh… I’m kind of busy with, you know, my own life?”

“Oh, but imagine!” she gushed, not hearing a word you said. “We’d be so close all the time—like, so close. You could protect me, and maybe… we could have a picnic under the stars? Very romantic, right?”

Your soul was trying to leave your body. You were pretty sure Jack’s ears twitched somewhere nearby, sensing your pain telepathically. And then, like a gift from the heavens, the villainess—your beloved accomplice in all things anti-heroine—made her appearance.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, stepping between you and the heroine with the grace of someone who had seen this movie before and knew exactly how to cut to the good parts. “But I need them for an urgent matter. A very important, not-at-all-romantic-but-very-necessary mission.”

You shot her a look of pure gratitude, but before she could fully rescue you from the heroine’s death trap of unwanted flirting, a shadow loomed over the scene. A very familiar shadow.

Leona.

Without saying a word, he strode up behind you and casually wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you back against his chest with an ease that had your heart skipping a beat. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his sharp green eyes fixed on the heroine.

“Oh no, carry on,” he said lazily, but his tone was anything but. “I’m just here to see what my mate is up to.”

The heroine blinked in shock, her hands hovering mid-air as if she had no idea what to do with this development. “Y-Your mate?”

“Yeah,” Leona said, tightening his grip around you, his smirk downright feral. “So whatever little fantasy you’re cooking up about romantic picnics or whatever—cut it out. This one’s mine.”

You felt Leona’s lips brush against your temple before he leaned in and, in full view of the now-utterly-horrified heroine, kissed the side of your neck. Slowly. Possessively.

You could almost hear the villainess muffling a laugh behind her hand.

The heroine’s face turned several shades of red as she stammered. “B-But I—”

“You,” Leona said, his tone dripping with amusement, “can fuck right off.”

The heroine gasped, her hand flying to her chest like she’d been physically struck. “You can’t just say that to me!”

Leona raised a brow, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “I’m literally the second prince. I can say whatever the hell I want.”

The heroine opened her mouth to argue, but then realized that, no, actually, she couldn’t argue with the literal second prince staking his claim. She sputtered for a moment before storming off, no doubt to sob dramatically about her dashed romantic hopes.

Once she was out of sight, the villainess finally let out a snort of laughter. “That was beautiful.”

Leona ignored her, his grip still firm around you as he leaned down to whisper, “Next time, you won’t need her to help you out. Just say my name, and I’ll be there to deal with the pests.”

You stared at him, a little dazed from the whole whirlwind of possessiveness, public displays of affection, and telling someone to ‘fuck right off.’ “You really went for it, huh?”

Leona smirked, leaning in for another kiss. “Damn right I did. And don’t you forget it.”

Somewhere behind you, the villainess was still giggling. You were pretty sure this was going to be gossip for weeks.

But honestly? Totally worth it.

Graduation day—the moment where everyone’s future plans would be declared, and all the chess pieces would fall into place. Or, in your case, the moment where you’d cause absolute chaos.

The grand hall was filled with eager anticipation. Everyone was dressed in their formal graduation robes, students buzzing with excitement over their new titles and responsibilities.

Leona, as expected, lounged at the back like a lion who had better things to do, half-asleep. Villainess stood tall and composed, already plotting her return to her family's estate. Heroine was in full glowing mode, ready to take her place as the beloved of the Grand Duchy.

And you? You stood at the podium, trying not to laugh. You knew what you were about to say would flip this graduation upside down.

One by one, people made their announcements.

When it was finally your turn, all eyes turned to you. The entire hall seemed to hold its breath, knowing the original male lead—you—was supposed to be the retainer of the heroine. It was all set, all according to plan, right?

Wrong.

You cleared your throat, glanced briefly at Leona who smirked lazily, and then made the declaration that would throw this script straight out the window. “I’ve decided to serve as Prince Leona’s right-hand man, personal secretary, and...well, whatever he needs.”

The silence that followed was glorious. Pure, dumbfounded silence.

King Falena, sitting in the front row, visibly blinked. Once. Twice. He tilted his head slightly, confusion written all over his usually composed face. “What?” he muttered, looking like someone just told him a desert hyena had enrolled in ballet school.

Leona, however, didn’t even open his eyes. He just smirked, crossing his arms smugly. “Told ya he’d choose me,” he murmured, almost too casually for someone who’d just stolen the original male lead’s entire plotline.

Falena’s gaze flicked between you and Leona, still processing. Then, slowly, realization dawned. He saw that look on Leona’s face—the one that said “mine, and I dare anyone to challenge it.” King Falena’s confusion morphed into surprise and then, with the subtlety of a royal diplomat, resignation. “Oh…” he whispered, finally understanding. “He’s down bad.”

Leona cracked an eye open just to catch his brother’s expression and grinned wider, like a cat who knew exactly what kind of bird it had in its claws.

Your parents, bless them, were in the crowd with expressions of supportive confusion. Your mother was squinting as if trying to work out if this was some sort of royal prank. Your father leaned in toward her, whispering loudly enough for the entire row to hear, “It’s a royal job, right? That’s prestigious?”

“Yeah, but… Leona?” your mom whispered back.

At this point, the heroine stood up, ready to throw a wrench into the works. “Wait! You’re supposed to be my—"

Before she could finish, the villainess, in all her dramatic glory, made her move. With the grace of a queen and the audacity of a mastermind, she stepped right up to the heroine, flipped her luxurious hair, and said, “Actually, I was going to ask you out.”

You blinked. Wait, what?

The entire room gasped. You could almost hear heads snapping toward the villainess like a collective whip crack.

Heroine’s mouth opened and closed like she was a fish drowning in air. “I—what?”

“Dinner. Candlelight. Maybe a picnic. You and me, a date. Sound good?” The villainess winked with such charm that even the professors in the back were wide-eyed.

Heroine blinked rapidly, as if trying to reboot her brain. “Uh… sure?” she squeaked, still reeling from the fact that her entire romantic arc had just gotten hijacked.

You stared at the villainess in pure confusion. “What just happened?” you whispered, looking at her for an explanation.

The villainess simply turned to you with a mischievous grin, giving you a sly thumbs-up like this had been part of her master plan all along.

You were still processing the fact that you were witnessing the greatest plot twist of all time. You returned a half-hearted, bewildered thumbs-up, unsure if this was a win or not.

Meanwhile, the professors up front were clearly on their last thread of patience. The head of the academy rubbed his temples, sighing deeply as if this whole day had aged him a decade. “That’s it,” he said, voice strained with exhaustion. “Everyone’s graduated. Just...leave. Please.”

And with that, the ceremony abruptly ended. You couldn’t help but laugh at the professor’s exasperation as the crowd started to disperse, still buzzing with gossip.

Leona slid up next to you, his hand casually resting on your waist as you walked out of the hall together. “So, my right-hand man, huh?”

You shrugged. “Figured I might as well make it official.”

Leona smirked, leaning down to murmur in your ear, “Just don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

And then he kissed you. In front of everyone.

King Falena, witnessing this public display of territorial claims, just shook his head with a resigned sigh. “Well, as long as it’s official…” he muttered, casting an approving glance toward you. “Congratulations, I guess.”

Your parents were still in shock, but when they saw that it was a royal seal of approval, they immediately switched gears. “A royal job!” your mom whispered excitedly. “That’s so prestigious!”

With that, Leona tugged you away from the chaos, his arm never leaving your waist as you walked toward the exit. You glanced back one last time to see the heroine still staring blankly at the villainess, who had now looped her arm around her like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The head of the academy, now red in the face, shouted after you as you reached the door, “I SAID EVERYONE GO, FOR THE LOVE OF THE GREAT SEVEN!”

You walked out into the sunlight, trying not to laugh, while Leona leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured smugly, “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

It was a day like any other, except you were meeting the villainess in her newly acquired estate. She had officially taken over as the head of her family, and the new title suited her all too well. The whole place screamed, I am in charge, with a side of don’t even think about challenging me unless you want to cry in public. You admired the aesthetic.

The villainess greeted you with her usual regal flair, sweeping into the room like she’d been born to dominate it—which, to be fair, she had. She offered you tea, which you politely declined, sensing that this wasn’t just a casual catch-up.

"So, what's new with you, Lady Villainess?” you asked, leaning back, fully expecting some grand declaration about her political conquests or business victories.

She smiled—a dangerous, knowing smile that made you immediately suspicious. "Well, I wanted to tell you something rather... unexpected."

You raised an eyebrow. Unexpected? Coming from her? That had to be good.

"I'm dating the heroine," she said casually, sipping her tea as if she hadn't just dropped the biggest plot twist since the whole 'villainess takes over' arc.

You nearly choked on absolutely nothing, mouth hanging open in sheer disbelief. "Wait. What?"

She smiled serenely, her expression the perfect picture of innocence—which made it all the more ridiculous. “Yes, darling. The heroine and I are officially a couple.”

You blinked. “The same heroine who couldn’t tell a poisoned apple from a regular one if her life depended on it?”

“The very same.”

“The one who gets lost in her own estate if she turns too many corners?”

“Yes, that one.”

You couldn't help it. The sheer absurdity of the situation hit you, and you burst out laughing. "Oh, that is rich. How in the world did that happen?”

The villainess leaned back, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. “Oh, it was simple, really. I realized I was always drawn to her... naiveté. And once I stopped trying to sabotage her every move, well, things just fell into place.”

You were still laughing, shaking your head in disbelief. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you two, but this is the best thing I’ve heard in weeks.”

The villainess gave you a mock glare. “Don’t act so surprised. I’ve always had impeccable taste.”

“Oh, impeccable taste, huh?” you teased. “I just didn’t expect it to lead you straight to a walking ball of sunshine.”

“Well, someone needs to keep her from wandering into traffic.”

Still snickering, you stood up. “Alright, alright, I get it. You’re a saint for dealing with her.”

“I know,” she sighed dramatically, “but love makes us do ridiculous things.”

"Tell me about it," you muttered, still amused. You waved goodbye and promised to catch up later, your mind reeling from this new, absolutely hilarious development.

When you got back to the palace, you found Leona lounging in his usual spot, sprawled out on a couch like a lion that had just taken over the whole savannah. He barely glanced up as you walked in, already sensing the amused energy radiating off you.

“You’re grinning like an idiot,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “What happened?”

You plopped down next to him, barely containing your laughter. “You won’t believe this. The villainess is dating the heroine now.”

Leona’s eyes flicked open, and for a split second, he looked like he didn’t believe you. Then, slowly, a smirk spread across his face as he processed the information. “You’re messing with me.”

“Nope. Dead serious. They’re a couple now. In love.” You leaned in, grinning. “The villainess—ice queen herself—is head over heels for Miss Pure Sunshine.”

Leona actually chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well, I’ll be damned. Never saw that one coming.”

“I know, right? It’s the most chaotic thing ever, and I am living for it.”

Leona’s smirk turned into a full-on grin, which was rare enough to be considered a national treasure. He shifted, sitting up slightly. “You think we’ll get an invite to the wedding?”

You snorted. “Oh, you bet. I’m going to be front row just to see how she manages to keep the heroine from accidentally setting her own dress on fire.”

Leona’s laugh rumbled low in his chest, and he reached out, grabbing your wrist. “Come here,” he ordered, tugging you toward him.

“What? No, I’ve got work to do,” you protested weakly, but your protests didn’t mean much when he effortlessly pulled you into his lap.

“Work can wait. This is more important,” he grumbled, wrapping his arms around you in a possessive hug that made it very clear you weren’t going anywhere.

You sighed, leaning into him. “You just want to cuddle, don’t you?”

“I want you to stop running around and actually relax for once,” he retorted, resting his chin on top of your head. “Besides, it’s not like the kingdom’s gonna fall apart if we take a break.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “I should get a promotion. I’m basically doing all the work around here.”

Leona chuckled again, his grip tightening just slightly. “Yeah, well, don’t let Falena hear that. He might actually make you his advisor, and then I’ll never get any alone time with you.”

You snorted. “Oh please, you’d just kidnap me from work if that happened.”

“Damn right,” he muttered, his voice low and satisfied. “You’re mine, remember?”

You felt your heart do that annoying flutter thing as Leona’s possessive tone settled over you. Even when he was being a lazy lion, he made you feel like the most important thing in his life. It was comforting—and kind of hilarious, considering how little he cared about everything else.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, and for once, you actually allowed yourself to relax, leaning into Leona’s warmth. His arms tightened around you again, and you could feel the soft rise and fall of his chest as he started to drift off into a nap, his grip never loosening.

As you closed your eyes, you couldn’t help but think that, despite all the absurdities in your life—from slipping on a plushie to your best friend falling in love with her former rival—you wouldn’t trade any of it. Not for the world.

And as Leona’s breath slowed into the steady rhythm of sleep, you allowed yourself a small, contented smile.

Life was chaotic. But it was also perfect.

Series Masterlist ; Masterlist

Idia won the previous poll! Now for the next,

[witherby]

do you think that the batfam has different ways of explaining their bruises/injuries they get from crimefighting to an observant mouse? 👼👼👼

--🎆

Fantastic question! I think growing up in Wayne Manor would make it exceptionally difficult to hide the vigilantism from you. They could 100% do it, but it would take about a thousand times more effort concealing it from you than the general public, so I don't think they would.

You're very young when you start really piecing it together, though, so they're gonna have to tell you what happened in child-friendly ways.

The Littlest Wayne: Post-Battle Injuries

1. Bruce

"Wha' happen, daddy?"

This man is not a good liar, but he dodges the truth like it's an Olympic sport. Like any public figure worth their salt, he's gonna answer the question without answering the question.

"Well, when Daddy has to go be Batman, sometimes he gets hurt. The boo-boos will go away after a while, and everything is going to be fine. You'll have to hug gently for a few days."

What he doesn't say is that he took a toyota corolla pushing 70 to the ribs and can feel the broken bones shifting and rubbing together like wet chopsticks under his skin, it's fucking nauseating, and he needs to go pass out as soon as he puts you down for a nap.

2. Dick

"Uh-oh, Dinky hurty?"

If Bruce is admired for keeping his cool in the wake of grievous injury, then Dick wrote the fucking book on it. His picture shows up when you google "gaslight gatekeep girlboss." He could lose a limb and convince you it's always been like that with a straight face. You'll never catch his ass lacking.

"Dinky fell down," he says easily, scooping you into his arms, "but he's fine! See? All okay!" His face doesn't even twitch from all his wounds getting aggravated. There is shrapnel embedded in his back from being thrown through a window and tumbling down the roof. The broken-off blade of a knife is jammed up in his thigh. His right hand has lost all feeling in it from blocking a pipe getting swung at him. There are black spots in his vision. He's lost so much blood it's nothing short of divine intervention keeping him conscious.

You'd bet your ass if you need him to go sprint a 10k right now, though, he's lacing up his tennis shoes.

3. Tim

"Timmy, what wrong?"

He's gonna tell you the truth, and he's the only one that'll tell you the truth. He'll just omit the gorey bits because they're not beneficial to you.

"Oh, this? Bad guy got me good with his knife. It hurts a lot so don't touch it... I just said don't touch it...okay fine, go wash your hands first before you touch it."

He didn't like being kept out of the loop as a child, especially a child that had to raise himself, so he tells you about anything and everything you ask. He'll tell you what medical supplies he's grabbing and why. He'll tell you his estimated recovery time. He'll tell you what wounds the others have, if any. He'll let you touch the safe tools, like gauze and bandages and antibiotic ointment. He'll show you how to apply them, too, and then quickly take you to the sink to wash the blood from your hands.

4. Jason

"Jay-Jay ouchies?"

He's the most unintentionally awkward about it. I think being brought back to life in the Lazarus Pit really fucked up his ability to feel pain. The major injuries still sting — gunshots, stabs, broken bones — but bruises and black eyes and sprains fly under the radar very often.

"Uh, no," he shrugs, looking at the myriad of colorful bruising you just pointed out on his arm. "No ouchies." He's not exactly lying, it doesn't hurt, but it is very clearly an injury. This confuses and upsets you often.

5. Damian

"Dami got a booboo?"

He's lying every single time. He's your older brother. He's a dangerous killing machine. His skill and combat prowess are unmatched. He needs you to think he's incredible and amazing and cool.

"Those half-wit simpletons could never dream of landing a hit on me. Any blood on my clothes is simply not mine."

One of the goons actually clipped his side with a bullet and it really, really hurts. His hands are flexing and he's got sweat running down his neck from the pain. He would actually rather die than let you know that, though.

[moonstruckme]

a thought:

reader is literally so grouchy and bratty and tired and is accidentally snapping at (whoever u want) and thennn they take initiative to casual dominance her to take a nap after some tea and it’s just so crazy fluffy!!!

Thanks for requesting!

cw: d/s dynamics

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 708 words

You’d claimed to want to read with Remus on the couch, but you keep huffing like your book is your least favorite thing in the world. Remus wraps a hand around your thigh, rubbing a slow back and forth with his thumb in an attempt to pacify you. He knows precisely what this mood is about. 

“Ugh, this construction noise is the worst!” You glare out the window as if hoping the men across the street will see. 

“Why don’t you use my headphones and try to have a nap, dove,” Remus suggests mildly. “You didn’t get much sleep last night, sounds like it’s catching up to you.” 

You bristle at the implication. “I’m not tired, I’m just sick of this. Nobody asked for the road to be redone. It was perfectly fine before.” 

Remus shoots you a sideways look. The road outside your house was riddled with potholes, and you both know it. If you were in a better mood, you’d be baking cookies for the construction workers to thank them. 

You ignore it, huffing again. “I’m gonna get some dinner,” you say, setting your book down roughly as you stand. 

“Last night’s leftovers are in the fridge.” 

“Don’t feel like those.” 

Remus gives your bum a light swat through your sweatpants as you go by. “Eat something real,” he warns. 

You make a vexed harrumphing sound. He chooses not to hear it. 

What he does hear, less than a minute later, is popcorn popping in the microwave. Remus sighs through his nose, tenting his book on the coffee table and pursuing you into the kitchen. You don’t turn around as his footsteps approach. 

“Dove.” Remus takes your hips, turning you manually. “That’s not a real dinner.” 

You shrug, obstinate. Your stare looks like you’re itching for a fight. “It’s what I feel like.” 

“You haven’t had anything with a vegetable in it all day. You need to pick something else.” 

You roll your eyes, turning back around. Ignoring him. Remus hits the button to shut off the microwave. 

You spin back around, eyes flashing. “You can’t—” 

“That’s enough.” He takes your jaw in his hand, your chin resting at the apex of his thumb and forefinger. “You’re being a brat,” he says in a low, steady voice, “because you’re sleepy and probably because you haven’t eaten a real meal since yesterday. That stops now. You’re going to eat the dinner you made yesterday, which you liked, and then go have a nap. Understand?” 

Remus isn’t really irritated with you. You’re being unruly, sure, but these moods always end once you get what you’re looking for from him. Now he’s given you it, you’ll calm down. 

It’s fucking precious, the way your temper melts away under his hard gaze. Your eyes round out and your head sits heavier in his hand, remorse finding its way into your expression. 

“Sorry,” you say, tone about ten degrees milder than it had just been. 

Remus rolls his eyes at you, squishing your cheeks between his fingers. “I know, darling. You can still make it up to me. Heat up those leftovers, okay?” 

You hum, and he lets you go, kissing the hill of your cheek. 

A minute later, you join him in the living room, curling up next to him on the couch while you eat and he reads. Your posture is already less rigid, the both of you enveloped in companionable silence and the smell of warm food. Your fork clinks as you set your plate down on the coffee table, and when you don’t get up to go to bed, Remus looks over at you. Your eyes are already on him, a question in them.

He fights to repress the smile that curves his lips. “What?” 

“Can I sleep here?” you ask hopefully. “Would it distract you if I put my head on your lap?” 

Remus coos. “No, sweetheart, of course you can.” 

“Are you sure?” you ask, though you’re already lying down, him uncrossing his legs to make his lap more comfortable for you. “You’re not still mad at me?” 

He tsks, petting your hair while you get comfortable. “I’m not. Wanna know a secret?” 

You hum, eyes already closing. 

“I’m never really mad at you, dove.”

[montagoves]

redamancy | jason todd

genre: comfort x3

warning: jason todd

summary: jason is reminded of how much he loves you–and how much you love him

a/n: after a handful of failed tinder dates, i just needed to write something to remind myself that if no one got me jason todd got me

Redamancy: a love returned in full

The word itself stems from the New Latin redamantia, and from the Classical Latin redamō meaning, “I requite love”. How we translate redamancy is this: a love returned in full; an act of loving the one who loves you; the act of loving in return.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the clicking sounds from your last-minute essay writing and the soft sounds of The Cranberries had lulled him into the first real nap he’s taken in the last few months. The book he had barely gotten a chapter through laid over his face, blocking the overhead lights you both hated but you swore made you more motivated to do homework. In reality, you just hated them so much that it drove you to work quicker so you could turn them off as soon as you were done. 

You had a lot of small things like that – things that made Jason’s heart swoon in a way he didn’t think it was capable of. Like when you tell him that pile of laundry would eventually get done, you just had to get hit with the cleaning zoomies which occur “approximately every 3-4 weeks.” And when you do get hit with the cleaning zoomies, you put on your headphones, blare Deftones, and deep clean your entire apartment. You could spend hours cleaning the bathroom, neglecting all your other responsibilities. 

Like eating your meals, which in that case Jason always came to your rescue. He’d pat your pretty head and once you took off your headphones and looked up at him with those eyes, he’d tell you he made your favorite meal. You’d reluctantly go to eat with him, and after enjoying the meal with your lover you’d feel lazy. You’d blame him for ruining your motivation, and Jason would just kiss your sweet lips and tell you he could find a way to motivate you again. 

Jason also likes the way he feels when you look at him. You two would be over at Roy’s place, Lian in Jason’s lap as Roy talked about some sports team that pissed him off recently. And Jason would be bouncing Lian in his lap or mindlessly curling her hair with his fingers. Roy’s voice would fade into the background and your focus would only be on Jason – on that smile that creeps on his face whenever Roy curses and Lian repeats it, on the way his eyes seem to gleam whenever he glances over at you, on the way you picture him holding your child, which you two have talked about but you’re both far too young to consider now. 

And Gods, when he catches on to you staring, his hands get clammy the way they did when he first met you. His cheeks turn as red as his vigilante helmet and he noticeably clenches his jaw to keep from nervously laughing. He’s never been looked at with that much love before. He’s had you by his side for years yet he still hasn’t gotten used to the feeling. 

What is he supposed to do when he wakes up to the feeling of you perching yourself on top of him during his nap? He remains still, for the most part, feigning sleep as you try to get comfortable. You must have finished your essay because from under his book’s pages, he can see a candle flickering, the smell of whiskey and vanilla filling the small apartment. He’s quick to close his eyes when you gently move the book away. He hears you take his bookmark, one you had handcrafted yourself, and save his page before setting the book aside. He feels as you lay down fully, your head resting on his chest and your arms attempting to wrap around his waist. Your head moves as Jason’s heart flutters, and your lips brush his jawline in a way he’d only let you do. 

“Baby,” you whisper to him, your hand moving to brush the bangs away from his face. He pretends to be woken up, his eyelashes fluttering open to see you. 

“Hi,” he manages to whisper, making a smile form on your lips. You lean in and nuzzle your face against his neck, and a shaky breath leaves his lips. 

“How’d you sleep?” you mumble against his skin. He slowly moves his hands, slipping them under your hoodie so he can hold your hips. You feel so warm. 

“Fine,” he mumbles back, watching as you lift your head. You look like Heaven, and Jason’s heart is pounding so hard against his chest he fears it may explode. 

What a beautiful way to die, he thinks. 

“Finished your essay?” he asks, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. His thumb slowly brushes your chin, then traces your bottom lip. You blush, leaning against his palm. 

“Mostly,” you admit sheepishly. “You looked so comfy and I was starting to get a headache, so I wanted to cuddle with you. I’ll finish it tomorrow morning.”

He bites back the smile you never fail to produce, and his thumb pulls back your bottom lip. 

“That can be arranged,” he says, tucking your outgrown bangs behind your ear. His fingers trace along your earlobe, fiddling with the earrings you wore. A peaceful silence falls over the two of you, and Jason’s extremely aware of the look in your eyes. His cheeks twinge that red shade, and he clenches his jaw. 

“I love you,” you finally whisper. He gulps, his eyes flicking to yours. At that moment, he swears no one could make his body react in the way you managed to do. 

“I love you too,” he whispers back after a few moments. The words are new to him, almost sounding foreign on his tongue. But he makes an internal promise to practice this language for you. 

He practices it as you lean down and press your lips to his. He cups the back of your head to bring you closer, in an attempt to become one. You let out a soft sigh that makes his body shiver, and you pull away with yet another gorgeous smile on your lips. 

You lay on him again, your head resting in the crook between his shoulder and neck. Jason’s fingers thread through your hair as soft snores leave your lips. 

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but your body on his makes his eyes shut and his arms move to rest around your shoulders. His muscles relax and his heart returns to its natural pace. He feels you shift for a moment, your lips brushing his neck to give him one final kiss. To remind him you’re here, and that you’re not going anywhere. 

Another thing Jason loves about you – you love him back just the same.

[cameronsprincess]

— summary: Rafe finds out about some of your darkest fantasies and decides to bring them to life.

— warnings: smut! 18+ non/dub con, kidnapping, rafe chases reader through the woods, bondage, open-mouth gag, breath play, edging, fingering, ass play, biting, forced blow job, knife play, forced unprotected sex, forced creampie, spitting, slapping, spanking, branding, hair pulling, choking, degrading, praise kink, sir kink, possessive!rafe, sub!reader, dark!rafe. (is this considered DDDNE?)

— note: my book series has sparked the DARKEST parts of my mind… please read all warnings carefully! this is a work of fiction! if you’re uncomfortable with anything in the warnings, DO NOT READ. DO NOT READ UNLESS 18+ !!

likes, comments + reblogs are appreciated <3

❥ run, little one— r.c

Y/N

“Run, little one! ‘Cause when I catch you, you’re going to wish I hadn’t”

Rafe’s voice booms through the dark woods, my pulse is racing, blood rushing to my ears, nothing but the sounds of my heavy breathing and ringing fill my ears. My eyes scan the length of the woods, I have no clue where I am, and i’m terrified, but i’m also soaked.

Thoughts of what Rafe would do to me when he catches me have my panties dripping with my arousal, pussy pulsing with need. It may be fucked up, but the fear of the unknown, the thought of the pain he’d bring me is what got me excited. The pure rush of adrenaline, not having a choice in anything, him being forceful and rough with me— it excited me.

The sound of a branch snapping behind me makes me gasp, my feet taking off through the woods again, running, hoping I can find anywhere to hide. I take a turn, thinking i’d finally lost him but a loud scream is ripped from my chest when I run into something hard, the impact knocking the breath out of me and making me fall right on my ass.

“Shhhh, don’t worry princess, ‘m gonna take good care of you” Rafe whispers in my ear.

I feel something slapped over my mouth, preventing me from screaming and then my vision goes black. My eyes rip open, realizing i’d been dreaming, but now i’m not. My face is covered by a black hood, duct tape over my lips, making unintelligible noises fall from me. I hear the sound of metal clanking, and Rafe roughly forces my arms behind my back, crossing them before slapping handcuffs on and tightening them so tight they pinch at the skin of my wrists.

Rafe lifts me from the bed and tosses me over his shoulder. I begin pounding at his back as best I could with my restrained fists, screaming into the duct tape, trying to fight for him to put me down, but it’s useless.

A harsh slap is landed across my ass cheek, exposed by the short sleep shorts i’d put on before my nap, making me whimper from the contact.

The sound of a door opening and closing makes me jump, the cool fall air hitting at my skin and sending goosebumps up my body. What is he doing? Where is he taking me? I was terrified, but I was also ashamed at how soaked I was, my pussy throbbing as he carried me outside and to God knows where.

I hear him open a car door, my body being tossed into the back seat before he slams the door shut and hopping into the driver seat.

I hear the truck pull out onto the road, the windows rolling down and letting the cold air slap at my bare skin. I try my best to roll onto my stomach in the seat, my handcuffed wrists pinned underneath my back uncomfortable and making me whine.

I try and shout through the tape some more, wanting answers as to what was going through Rafe’s mind, but my body sags into the backseats, remembering it’s useless, my mouth is literally taped shut.

“Don’t worry, little one. We’re gonna have some fun”

I whimper at his words as he turns the radio in his truck up, “Church” by Chase Atlantic the last thing I hear before my mind goes blank.

-

RAFE

I pull down the long and over grown driveway, the large cabin that’s sat abandoned for few years finally coming into view. I smirk to myself, my eyes glancing up into the rearview mirror to see Y/N laid still in the backseat. She’d finally stopped whimpering and squirming about thirty minutes into the drive, probably made herself pass out, she was exhausted, and I had woken her from her nap to have some fun.

My girl doesn’t know it, but i’ve been reading her dream journals, her diaries, getting an inside peek at her dark and dirty mind. My girl wants to be chased, wants to be bound and gagged, having any choice or control taken from her. She wants me to be forceful with her, she wants me to hurt her, make her cry, make her beg me to stop— when her mind and pussy are really begging me to continue.

She has no idea what I have in store for her tonight, and the thought of her whimpering, unable to see, speak, breathe, tell me no. It had my cock straining against the fabric of my jeans.

I pull the truck to a stop, shutting the engine off and hopping out to open the back seat door. “Time to wake up, little one. Let the fun begin” I whisper in her ear, the weight of my body pressing down on her bare legs.

She begins squirming in the seat, the sounds of her muffled cries filling my ears, blood rushing to my already painfully hard cock. She must have thought she was still dreaming this whole time, and waking up — completely stripped of her ability to see or speak — She must be terrified again, exactly how I want her.

I carefully scoop her body into my arms, her head and legs trashing from side to side as unintelligible noises fall past her lips. I walk us into the cabin, glancing around at everything i’d set up, i’d been planning this for weeks, getting everything i’d need to have some fun with my girl. There’s a large mattress sitting on a metal bed frame pushed against the wall, laid out on it are ropes, an open-mouth gag, a silky red blindfold, various toys, and a long paddle whip that has the word WHORE engraved into it.

Smirking to myself, I continue walking through the old cabin and out the back door. When I finally decide we’re far enough into the woods, I set her body down on the ground, removing the black hood from her head and yanking the duct tape from her lips.

Her eyes rip open, going wide as she whips her head around, taking in her surroundings. “R-Rafe? Where- Where are we? Why did you fucking kidnap me?!” She shouts, a small look of fear in her eyes.

I smirk, “You’ll get a five minute head start, little one” I pause, watching in amusement as her chest heaves up and down, my eyes scanning over her plump breasts as they threaten to spill out of the small top she’s wearing. “Hope you can run fast, and hide well. Because if I catch you, you’re mine to use however I want”

She begins struggling to stand, her wrists still cuffed behind her back making a fairly simple task more difficult. I watch her struggle for a moment before I bend over and grip the inside of her left arm, jerking her to her feet. She winces when rocks and twigs begin stabbing at the bottoms of her bare feet, “Rafe! This isn’t funny, undo the cuffs, I wanna go home”

“Now, now Y/N.. I’ve read your dream journals, your diaries. I know all of the sick and twisted dreams and thoughts you have. I know exactly what you want me to do to you, why should I deprive you of what you want?”

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head, her face turning a deep shade of red, shame taking over her features when she hears the words that slip past my lips. I take a step toward her, and she flinches back, but it doesn’t stop me. I reach my hand out, the pad of my thumb running over her mascara stained cheek, “No need to be ashamed, we all have our kinks baby” I pause, placing my hand on the back of her head and pulling her forehead into my lips, kissing softly at the skin before I pull back and whisper, “Now run”

-

Y/N

“Now run”

His words make my heart begin hammering in my chest, my body turning as I begin running through the dark woods. I’m dodging trees, trying not to scream out in pain as twigs, and rocks and God knows what else stabs at the bottom of my feet.

My ears begin ringing, my head throbbing when I come to a stop, trying my hardest to catch my breath. My head whips from side to side, trying to find anywhere to hide, but all I see if acres and acres of woods. The sound of a twig snapping close by makes me take off running again, I run and run, afraid to stop. I shouldn’t be so turned on, but I am. Part of me wants to get caught, wants to let him use me however he pleases, but the smallest part inside me that says to keep running wins.

I come to another stop after what felt like hours of running, my back pressed against a tree. My throat is sore, lips and mouth dry from my heavy breathing. I peek around the side of the tree, but all I see if darkness. I let out a sigh of relief thinking i’d lost him for the time being, but that thought is quickly gone when I feel rough hands grabbing the backs of my arms, twisting them in an uncomfortable way, making me scream out in pain.

“Caught you” I hear Rafe say, voice low and raspy.

I begin kicking and screaming, trying to push myself out of his grip, but it’s no use, he’s got me in a tight hold. He lifts my feet from the ground, tossing me over his shoulder as he begins walking through the woods. I don’t stop fighting, my body thrashing in his hold. “Rafe! Rafe stop!” I shout, but he ignores me, continuing his way through the woods until he finally comes to a stop.

“Time to have some fun, yeah?” He asks. He lands a harsh slap across my ass again, making me whimper from the contact, the sting his hand left behind making my pussy throb.

He walks us up some stairs, and into an old house. The house smells musty, the air stale, and the floors are covered in leaves and trash. “Where are we?” I ask softly, voice barely above a whisper.

“This, little one, is our playroom” He says simply, tone of voice void of any emotion.

I let my eyes trail upward, finding a large bed on a metal frame pushed against a wall. My heart begins pounding, the loud thump of my own heart the only noise I can hear in the moment. He has the bed laid out with ropes, a wooden paddle, a few toys, an open-mouthed gag, and a red blindfold.

My mind tells me I should be afraid, but my body doesn’t react that way. My nipples harden underneath the thin fabric of my small shirt i’d tossed on earlier, panties now soaked, likely dripping with my arousal.

Rafe uses one hand to tightly wrap around the underside of my knees, keeping me in place on his shoulder while his free hand begins moving the things on the bed, clearing an open space for me to be laid down.

Once satisfied with the now open space on the bed, he flips me off his shoulder and onto the bed, my still handcuffed wrists pinning beneath me on the bed, making me wince in pain. I watch him intently as he makes his way toward a small table that’s off to the corner, grabbing the rope he’d just removed from the bed.

He makes his way to the end of the bed, grabbing my right ankle and tying the rope around it before securing the other end to one end of the metal bed frame, moving to my left ankle and repeating his actions. Satisfied with my bound ankles, he digs into his pocket, digging out a key that I can only assume belongs to the cuffs that restrain my wrists. He grips my by the top of my head, fingers tightly fisting at my hair and yanking me into a sitting position, sticking the key into the lock of the cuffs and undoing them.

I bring them to the front of my body to rub them. they’re now red and sore from how tightly he had them on my wrists, but he quickly pushes me onto my back, “don’t get too comfortable, little one” he says, a smirk plastered on his beautiful face while he climbs on top of me, straddling my waist. He harshly grabs my left wrist, pulling it above my head and reaching over to the table to grab the other set of rope he had. He pins my wrist against another metal bar, tying my wrist to it before moving to my right side and copying his actions.

He climbs off of me, his bottom lip between his teeth as his darkened over eyes scan my body. “Fucking gorgeous” He whispers, and my body jerks. I instinctively try and yank my wrists down, making the rope dig into them, making me pathetically whimper.

Rafe walks back over toward the table, pulling his tightly fitted black shirt over his head and tossing it down. I can’t help but let my eyes trail over his perfectly sculpted chest and abdomen. He grabs the open mouthed gag off the table before slowly making his way back over to me. I try and fight my restraints again, but stop when he harshly grips at the back of my head, yanking my neck up and forcing my eyes on the ceiling.

“Don’t fight this, princess. Okay?”

I whimper out an “okay” before he lets my head go, my neck returning back to a normal forward facing position. He brings his fingers to my slightly parted lips, pushing them inside my mouth and down my throat, making me gag around the thick digits before he pulls them out. “Keep your mouth open”

I obey, keeping my mouth open as wide as I could get it while he places the circular part of the gag into my mouth and behind my teeth. He pulls both sides of the leather straps around my head, buckling it together and tightening it so it’s secure. He pulls back and admires his work, my mouth spread wide open, hands and legs bound to the bed frame, spread open wide for him to use.

“Perfect” He says, the corners of his lips pulling into a smirk.

-

RAFE

The sight before me is like something straight out of my dreams. She looks so fucking gorgeous like this, her arms and legs tied to the bed frame, spread wide open for me to use, her mouth gagged, but still open wide for me, allowing me access to shove my cock down her throat, spit into her mouth, shove my fingers into her throat. I trail my eyes from her beautiful face down to her glistening cunt, she’s fucking soaked for me, ready to be fucking used.

I climb myself onto the bed, her arms and legs jerking, pulling the ropes tighter into her smooth skin. Drool is running from her mouth, down her chin and onto her plump breasts, whimpers and whines falling from her as she continues to try and fight the restraints.

“Keep fighting Y/N/N, I want you scared. I prefer it actually, it’ll make forcing my cock down your throat and in your cunt that much more fun”

I reach over onto the small side table and grab the blindfold, the sounds of her whimpers bouncing off the walls of the old cabin, making my hard cock pulse. I crawl up the bed, sitting between her spread thighs and bringing the blindfold up to her face. She whines, shaking her head from side to side, but I grip her cheeks harshly with my left hand. “Stay still” I demand, and she quickly obeys, stopping her movements, her beautiful, wide eyes staring back into mine.

I quickly place the silky material over her eyes, bringing the two ends around the back of her head and tying it as tightly as I could.

Her breathing picks up, chest heaving up and down rapidly once i’ve taken away her sight once again. I smirk to myself and reach into my back pocket, pulling out my phone and turning the back camera toward her trembling body, snapping a quick picture of her before locking it and tossing it to the table.

I reach into my other back pocket, pulling out a pocket knife and flipping it open. I hear her whimper at the sound of the knife opening, her arms jerking downward some more as she spews unintelligible words from her drooling lips. I bring the blade down to her inner thigh, running it up the length of her leg until it reaches her clothed pussy. “Let’s get these off, yeah?” I say lowly before bringing the blade to one of the leg holes of her shorts, slicing upward until the material pools by the sides of her legs.

My eyes find her cunt again, staring at the wet spot that’s soaked through the pink lacey material. “My girls fucking soaked, you like having no control?”

She whines, her head slowly nodding. I bring the blade back up to the waistband of her panties, running the sharp end across her stomach before I cut her panties off of her body as well. I tap at her thigh, ordering her, “Lift your hips, little one”

She quickly does as I say, lifting her hips as best she could off the mattress, allowing me to pull the now ruined shorts and panties from underneath her. Tossing the shredded material to the floor, I bring the blade back to her pussy, flipping it so the blade is in my palm. I run the handle of the pocket knife through her slick cunt, running it up to her clit and applying a small amount of pressure. Her hips buck forward and I take my free hand, pushing her hips back down and holding her in place. I run the handle back down to her folds, slowly pushing it into her pussy, stopping when the entire handle is inside of her.

She begins whimpering, her chest heaving and head rolled to the side as I begin pulling the handle from her cunt, pushing it back inside of her just as quickly. I love the way her body reacts to me, the way she’s letting me fuck her with the handle of my knife, my filthy fucking girl loves this shit.

I continue to fuck her with the handle of the knife and her body begins shaking, her legs tensing as her restrained fists ball above her head. “That’s it baby, let it out, cum all over the handle of my knife”

She begins panting, drool running down the sides of her mouth and down her chin, soaking her chest as she comes undone, her cum soaking the handle. I slowly pull it from inside her, bringing it to her open mouth and shoving it inside, running it up and down the length of her tongue, coating her mouth with her juices. “Good girl. Taste yourself, you did such a good job f’me, little one”

I pull the handle from her mouth, her head flying forward and chasing it, making me breathe out a laugh. I quickly flip the knife shut and sit it on the small table. I stand from the bed, and my hands pop the button of my jeans before moving the the zipper. I slide the rough material down my legs and to my ankles before kicking them to the side. I palm myself through my boxers, trying to relieve some of the pressure I felt from just staring at her like this, thinking of how she just came from the handle of my knife, it has my head spinning, my cock throbbing.

I shake my head, shoving my boxers down my legs and kicking them to the side as well before climbing back into the bed, her breath hitching in her throat when she feels my presence on the mattress again. I bring my hand to her face, wiping at the fresh tears that have fallen down her face, smearing more of her mascara on her face. I run the pad of my thumb over her bottom lip, it’s soaked in her drool. I push my thumb into her mouth, and she instinctively tries to close her lips around it, but fails, the metal part of the gag keeping her mouth open wide for me.

I lean myself into her, my lips ghosting over the shell of her ear. “‘M gonna fuck your throat now, little one, and you’re going to fucking love it”

-

Y/N

His words whispered in my ear send goosebumps down my body, my more breathing erratic than it had already been. I try and swallow, but fail, the gag in my mouth making it difficult to do anything but drool all over myself. He’s barely touched me, and I can guarantee I look like a fucked out mess.

I feel his hand on my cheek again, his waist now straddling my chest as he runs his thumb over the length of my face and lips. He shoves two fingers down my throat again, holding them there as I gag around them. Pulling them from my throat, he demands, “Stick your tongue out” and I quickly obey, sticking my tongue out for him. I feel him spit into my mouth, the saliva hitting the flat of my tongue, and sliding into the back of my throat. I bring my tongue back into my mouth, and wince when I feel a harsh smack landed across my face.

“I didn’t say you could do anything, tongue back out. Now” Rafe says, tone harsh and demanding. I quickly push my tongue back out, the swollen head of his cock slapping against it as he groans.

I feel him slide his head into my mouth slowly and he moans, the feel of the circular metal part of the gag in my mouth squeezing at him tightly. He continues to push himself further into my mouth until he finally reaches the back of my throat, his swollen tip kissing the back of my throat making me gag. Saliva pools in my mouth, drool running down the sides of my lips when he begins slowly pulling himself back out, slamming his hips forward again. I gag around him, trying to swallow the saliva in my mouth, but I can’t, the gag makes it hard to do anything.

He places one hand on my cheek, his free hand moving to the back of my head and gripping at my hair, his grip tight and bruising. He quickly settles on a harsh and quick pace of his hips, pulling himself back and slamming his pelvis into my face. My mouth is forced open wide for him, allowing him to fuck my throat with ease. He begins grunting loudly, his hips stuttering before he quickly pulls his hips back, spit flying from my mouth as I cough and gasp, trying to catch my breath.

“Goddamn. You took me so well, such a good fucking girl…” He rasps, his left hand finding my cheek, stroking down the soft skin. He takes his free hand and brings it between my legs, running his fingers through my arousal slick folds, sucking in a sharp breath when he feels just how soaked I am.

“You’re soaked, sweetheart. You like being forced to do things? Like having your body used?”

I whimper at his words, every single one of them were true. I hated my body for reacting to such vile things, such forceful and disgusting behavior, but I couldn’t help it. Was there something wrong with me? Surely it’s not normal to get aroused at the thought of — or the action itself — being used, hurt, given no choice in the matter. But I could no longer deny it, my body craved the unknown, craved the fear and the pain, I wanted to be used, forced to do whatever he wanted me to do. I loved being his good girl, and I loved being his whore.

Rafe reaches behind my head, fingers grabbing at the buckle that strapped the gag to my face. He quickly undoes it and pulls the straps down the sides of my face before reaching inside my mouth and pulling the circular metal part out. I snap my mouth shut, swallowing thickly and licking at my lips. My jaw and throat hurt, but it was well worth it.

He leaves me blindfolded, but I feel his hands moving to the rope that bound my legs to the bed. I hear his pocket knife flip open, the ropes being cut from my ankles and allowing me the slightest bit of freedom. He moves to cut my wrists free next, but before he does, he orders me, “Don’t move, i’ll reposition you, alright?”

I nod my head, forgetting I have the freedom to speak now. His fingers tightly grip at my cheeks, squeezing them tightly and I feel tears begin to fill my eyes, “When I speak to you, you answer me. Got it?”

“Y-Yes, sir” I manage to choke out, my fresh tears finally falling and soaking into the blindfold.

He finally cuts the ropes that bound my wrists, my arms falling limp by my sides. I quickly bring them up, rubbing softly at the skin of my wrists, trying to ease the pain i’d felt, but the action is short lived, a high pitched squeal emitting from me when Rafe yanks me from my sitting position, tossing me onto my stomach.

-

RAFE

“Hands behind your back, knees underneath your stomach” I demand, and she quickly does as I ask. She places her arms behind her back and crosses them over one another before she brings her knees up and tucks them underneath her stomach, letting her ass sit up in the air, giving me a perfect view of her soaked cunt and puckered ass.

I land a harsh slap to her ass, leaving a perfect handprint on the skin and causing her to cry out from the sting. I smirk to myself before I reach over and grab the cuffs again, placing the first cuff on her right wrist and locking it tightly in place, moving on to her left and doing the same. I smile once I have her wrists tightly locked in place, moving to grab the now cut rope from the bed and placing on the undersides of her ankles, wrapping it around a few times before pulling it up the underside of her body and through the chains of the cuffs. I pull the excess rope back down to her ankles and tie them tightly together, making it to where her cuffed wrists are bound together with her tied ankles.

“You look so goddamn beautiful like this” I say while my hand lands another harsh slap to her ass. My hands fly to her ass, gripping the plump flesh tightly and spreading her cheeks for me. I gather saliva in my mouth and spit down onto her untouched hole, moving my thumb to it and rubbing at it slowly, spreading my spit around. I slowly shove my thumb into her ass, making her hiss. “R-Rafe?” She cries out, her body rocking back and forth as I slowly push my thumb in and out of her.

“You want me to fuck your ass baby? Hmm? Would you like me to claim this hole too?”

She whimpers, her body tightening as she tries to fight her restraints. I pull my thumb from her ass and run my index and middle finger through her cunt, she’s soaked. “You’re so wet, princess. I think you want me to fuck your ass” I tease, before saying “But that’ll be another time. ‘M gonna stretch your ass in time, make it ready for my cock. For now, ‘m gonna fuck this sweet cunt, and you’re gonna take it”

“R-Rafe… Please?” She begs, the sound of her sweet, pathetic voice makes my cock throb. I run my fingers through her slick cunt again, pushing them inside of her and scissoring them to stretch her open. I begin pushing them in and out of her slowly, adding a third to stretch her more. Her body begins rocking back and forth, fucking herself onto my fingers, “That’s it baby, fuck my fingers, show me how badly you want me”

Weak whimpers and moans fall from her lips as she continues rocking her hips, fucking herself onto my fingers. I feel her pussy clamp down around them, her body tensing as she’s about to cum and I quickly remove them from inside her.

She whines at the loss of my fingers, “Rafe. Please?” She begs, and I let out a dark laugh. “Please what? Gotta tell me what you want, princess”

I hear her sniffle, “Want to cum, please? Let me cum” I slide my tongue across my top teeth and smile to myself, “Well, since you asked so nicely” I grip the base of my cock, stroking it a few times before pushing it inside of her wet cunt. I groan, throwing my head back when I feel her warm, wet walls grip my cock tightly.

She’s whimpering, unintelligible words falling from her beautiful mouth as I continue to fuck into her. She tries to fight the restraints again, body thrashing every time the head of my cock hits at her sweet spot. I lean my body forward, pressing my weight into her back as I slowly pull out, slamming my hips forward again and making her cry out.

I slap my hand over her mouth to muffle her cries, her tears falling down her face and onto my hand has my dick twitching, but I try and hold out. “‘M gonna take your air away now baby, try not to pass out on me” I whisper in her ear before my index finger and thumb pinch over her nose. She begins fighting me and her restraints hard, trying to fight my hand that’s over her mouth and pinching her nose closed, but I wrap my free hand around her waist, hand splayed across her stomach and hold her still.

Her pussy pulses around my cock, making me growl in her ear, “Fuck, you’re cunt is squeezin’ me so tightly baby, lack of oxygen turns you on?”

I chuckle when I hear her mumble into my hand, leaning my head down to her shoulder and sinking my teeth into her smooth skin. She stops fighting, her body growing weak from the lack of oxygen. Her pussy clenches around me tightly, her body beginning to go slack in my arms and I release my hand from her face. Her head shoots up, the sounds of her coughing and gasping for air bouncing off the walls.

“You did so good, little one. So good. Cum all over my cock and we can go home” I whisper in her ear, my teeth nibbling at her lobe. She lets out a loud, pornographic moan while her pussy clamps down on my dick, her body tensing and toes curling as she comes undone around me.

I pull myself back once more, slamming myself inside her while my dick twitches inside of her, my cum shooting inside of her and painting her inner walls white. I slowly thrust myself in a few more times, shoving my cum deep inside her cunt before I slowly pull out. I watch my cum slowly drip from her cunt before I drop to my back on the bed, chest heaving as I try and catch my breath.

Rolling my head to the side, I take in her exhausted body, limp and breathing heavily. I grab my pocket knife from the table, cutting at the rope around her ankles before cutting it free from around the chains of the cuffs. I toss my knife to the side, grabbing the key and undoing the cuffs, removing them and tossing them to the side as well. I scoop her limp body into my arms, running a hand across her cheek before using my free hand to pull the blindfold up and off her head.

Her eyes spring open, blinking a few times to try and adjust to the dark room. Her beautiful eyes find my blue ones and she weakly smiles up at me, making my pulse race and heart hammer in my chest. She’s always been so beautiful, but something about her fucked out look, mascara stained cheeks and heavy eyes has me falling more in love with her.

I lie her body onto the mattress, placing a soft kiss on her sweat slick forehead before standing and grabbing my boxers from the floor. I pull them up my legs and rush out to the truck, having one more thing I want to do before we go home, one thing that will let her, and everyone else know she’s mine, forever.

I open up the driver side door, grabbing the blow torch and tongs from the passenger seat and rushing back inside. I find her lying still on the bed, the sound of her even breathing filling my ears, and for a moment, I almost feel guilty that i’m about to wake her up again.

I slowly walk toward her, sitting on the bed, my weight making it dip in. “Baby, wake up. There’s one more thing to do, and then i’ll take you home and take care of you”

Her heavy eyes slowly open, blinking a few times before she whimpers, “Please, Rafe. I can’t. No more” I smirk to myself, she thinks i’m going to fuck her again, but no, no what i’m about to do will be more permanent than anything I can ever give her with my cock.

“‘S okay baby, just gonna do something to remind you and everyone else who you belong to, then we’ll go home” I whisper before quickly lighting the blow torch up. Her head shoots up off the mattress, eyes wide as she shakes her head from side to side. I remove my gold signet ring with my initials on it, and grab the circular end with the tongs, sticking the bulky end that rests on the top of my finger under the blue flame.

“Rafe, what’re you doing?” She asks, her voice shaking as her eyes dart from the ring under the flame to me. The corners of my lips lift up in a grin, “Marking you. You’re mine, and everyone will know it”

I use my free hand to reach over and grab a piece of rope from the floor, handing it to her and ordering her, “Bite down on this”

She hesitates, but ultimately does what I ask, placing the rough material between her teeth and biting down on it harshly. Once I feel like i’ve held the ring under the flame long enough, I shut off the torch and sit it at my feet. I turn my body to face her, and her eyes are swimming in unshed tears, “It’ll only hurt for a second” I tell her, and her head slowly nods up and down.

I spread her legs with my free hand, slapping harshly at her inner thigh before I bring the hot ring to her skin. She cries out in pain, body shaking as I hold the end of my gold ring to her skin. Her body goes slack, tears rolling down her cheeks when I pull it from her skin. I can’t help the large smile that spreads across my face when I look down and see a perfectly shaped small square with the letter “RC” branded into her soft skin.

Her body is still shaking, tears falling uncontrollably down her cheeks as she lets out choked sobs. I quickly stand and dress myself before tossing the hoodie of mine i’d brought over her weak body, lifting her into my arms and carrying her out to the truck.

I runs hand through her sweat slick hair, pushing it back from her face as I lean forward and press my lips to her forehead, “I love you, Y/N. You’re mine, now and forever. Let’s get you home and cleaned up”

She lets out a soft whimper, her face buried into my chest as she manages to whisper, “I love you too”

RAFE TAGLIST: @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @lizcameron @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @lexasaurs634 @lyndys @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @digitaldiary111 @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @atorturedpoetx @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @slut4ani @kamninaries

rafe masterlist | taglist form | main masterlist

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊◜ thinking about reader and bakugo’s intense “I’m home!” sex after he gets back from a month long mission. (follow up to this!!)

『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 ꒰ tags & content ꒱ 18+ MDNI! masturbation, mentions of phone sex, toy usage (vibrator), praise, light dom/sub dynamic, pet names (baby, peach, sweets, good girl, princess - one mention of slut and whore but affectionately!), fingering, minor roleplay (bakugo in his hero gear & reader wears his mask), oral (blowjob), facial, cum eating, lots of dirty talk, nipple play, marking - biting/scratching, a sprinkle of choking, hair pulling, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, aaand fluff! aged up characters to 22. ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — i didn’t expect this to be as long as it is, buuuut i had a lot of ideas of what they did when he came home...so there's a lot. what can i say? y'all missed each other! the smut immediately starts under the cut and does not stop until the end! 😵‍💫 ｡‧˚ʚ cross-posted to ao3 | word count; ~3.7k ɞ˚‧｡ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

It's been a long month without Katuski being home. You've done everything you can think of to keep yourself busy while he's been away - played games, read books, hung out with friends and worked overtime to make the days fly by. You called each other day and night, talking for as long as his assignments for the day allowed. Thankfully, they gave him his own room as an accommodation and didn't have to worry about sharing with anyone else.

Boy, did that come in handy.

You two are not shy and foreign to phone sex of all kinds, it was something you actually talked him into doing when you're apart longer than a week for work. FaceTime, voice notes, sexting; the full gambit. You had a private collection on your phone with all his voice notes that he'd sent to you over the years. You used it as "material" for when you're alone.

One folder was all for praise - "that’s my good girl," "go slow sweets, I wanna watch ya take every inch of me," "you’re so cute when you’re begging on your knees, baby," "love watching your soft lips wrap around my cock," "your moans are so fuckin’ pretty, peach," “god, y’have no fuckin’ idea how goddamn wild you drive me,” and more snippets of him coaxing you along to get you off.

The second folder? That was your sacred treasure trove. There were only three files, but they were some of the hottest things Katuski's ever graced you with. They were 10 minute audio clips of him jerking off to the thought of you, vocalizing every detail. Thank god for advanced technology because it allowed you to hear every mumbled ‘fuck’ under his breath, hushed grunts and audible shudders.

You didn’t have any other plans for the day - listening to your boyfriend’s sexy voice while you test out a new vibrator sounded like the perfect solution!

Stripping out of your clothes, you grab a t-shirt from his dresser and throw it over your naked body. It loosely drapes over the top of your thighs, barely hiding the fact you’re not wearing any panties. You grab the vibrator from your nightstand and lay in bed, phone nestled into the pillow next to your head. You decide to choose one of the three files at random. Before you even hit play, your face is flushed and heart is threatening to burst through your ribcage. It doesn’t take long for you to succumb to the gratification, getting lost in his husky moans and the hum of the vibrator.

You’re too busy to notice that the apartment’s front door has opened, along with the commotion of Katsuki dropping his bags in the doorway. He doesn’t say anything as he’s taking off his boots, assuming you could be taking a nap or had headphones on if you didn’t come skipping down the hallway. He didn't tell you he was coming home two days early and wanted to surprise you!

What a surprise it was for him to hear subtle mewls coming from your joint bedroom, immediately catching his attention. He was still in his hero gear, minus his gloves and gauntlets, with his mask settled into his hairline like a headband. As quiet as possible, he tip toes down the hall and peeks around the doorframe. He could hear faint audio playing and a buzzing noise, but couldn’t make out what it was until he got to the doorway.

When he peeked through the crack in the door, his dick throbbed violently as it tented his cargo pants. The sight of you sprawled out on the bed, viciously fucking your new vibrator in nothing but his t-shirt was hot as hell. And you were listening to...his voice notes? He was entranced by your delicious moans and how your legs twitched when the vibrator hit your swollen clit. Part of him jokingly thought you didn’t even need him right now, since you technically did have a version of him, but his selfishness took over instead.

Willpower be damned, he needed you. Now. It took everything in him not to pounce on you right then and there.

Katsuki retreats to the living room and sits on the couch, desperately fighting the urge to start playing with himself to the sound of you doing the same. Instead, he pulls out his phone and clicks on your name to call you. He could hear your phone’s audio shift from his own voice to your ringtone, a startled yelp escaping you.

“H-hey babe,” You answer, panting quietly. “What’s up?”

He almost bursts out into laughter, but keeps it together enough for his little charade.

“Everythin' alright? Ya sound outta breath,” Katsuki teases, but decides to get to the point. “Eh, fuck it. Come into the living room.”

He hangs up and hears your feet padding against the wooden floor instantaneously. Within seconds, you slide into view, overjoyed that he’s home.

“Kats!” You squeal, scrambling over to the couch and jumping into his lap. You’re peppering his lips, neck, cheeks and forehead with rapid fire kisses, giggling as he tries to still your movements to pull you into a warm hug. He nuzzles his face into your neck lovingly, returning your kisses tenfold.

Your excitement briefly makes you forget that you were just in the middle of pleasuring yourself before rushing to greet him. The realization catches up to you when you fully sit on his lap, his erection teasing your exposed slit. A heat pools in your gut at the thought of him catching you in the act - he heard you.

“Sorry for interrupting,” Katsuki says, hands gliding up your bare thighs and grabbing a handful of your ass, grinding your center against his own. The secondary contact causes a gasp to fall from your lips. You don’t respond verbally but lift yourself away from his lap, creating enough space between you two.

“What're ya-,” he’s cut off by you taking his right hand off of your ass and tucking his fingers against your soaked entrance. You take two digits and lower yourself onto them, coating his fingers in all your built up slick.

“I missed you,” you whine as he flexes inside you instinctually, petting your walls with his coarse finger pads. You start to move on your own, gripping his shoulders and riding his fingers to finish the job you started in the bedroom.

Katsuki is speechless, not even a witty remark coming to mind to tease you. His face burns hot when the sounds of your juices sloshing around his fingers fill the room, a heat creeping up the back of his neck. Since you previously wound yourself up, it doesn’t take long until you’re ready to explode. Your eyes are threatening to roll back into your head as you swirl your hips on his fingers. His entire being is pulsing with need as he begins to drills his fingers into you, knuckle deep, and drinks in all your breathy moans. The string in your belly is pulled taut - tighter than its been in the last month, snapping with an intensity that leaves your thighs quivering within seconds.

You come all over his fingers, down his hand and stain the crotch of his cargo pants.

“Hah, good thing they’re getting washed,” you joke breathlessly as you go to kiss Katsuki but stops you - he shocks you with something he’s never done before.

He retracts his fingers from your drenched cunt and swiftly smears it all over your lips before capturing them with his own, sharing your tangy release in ecstasy. He licks your bottom lip before sitting back, breaking the kiss and settling the two fingers back to your mouth. Your lips part ever so slightly at the pressure.

“Don’t ya think you taste divine?” He smirks as he watches you open your mouth invitingly, lazily sucking his fingers covered with your spend. You don't break eye contact with him the entire time, heavily panting like a dog in heat as your tongue leisurely trails the length of each finger. A thin string of saliva sticks to the corner of your mouth as you pull away from his fingers with a soft pop of your lips.

You reach for his mask in his hairline, pushing it back to fall into your grasp. Untying the small knot, you bring it to your own face and secure it around your eyes - just like he wears on patrol. Katsuki's giving you a curious look as you slide off his lap and kneel to the floor.

Oh fuck-

Putting your hands to his hips, you drag your fingers to the hem of his pants - he's scrambling to undo his belt while you yank everything to his ankles. His cock springs forward, bouncing off his clothed abs as it’s freed from the confines of his boxers. You can tell he’s aching for you to touch him, tip leaking pre-spend and blazing hot to the touch. With no hesitation, you edge his entire length into your mouth, tongue sliding delicately along the underside of his shaft and consuming every drop of him.

“F-fuck peach, should'a let you wear my mask ages ago,” Katsuki stutters, thighs trembling at the sight your lips enclosed around him. “’m not gonna…last long watchin’ ya like this.”

You start to slither your tongue around his length, subtly hollowing your cheeks and barely moving an inch. His tip hits the back of your throat as he grabs your hair, shoving you all the way to the base and meeting his soft blonde wisps with your nose. He's unable to control himself - your mouth just feels too good around his cock right now. Katsuki’s only known his own fist for the last month, you’re making him feel like a blushing virgin all over again with how fast he’s accelerating toward his orgasm. You’ve hardly touched - well, blown - him and he's ready to combust.

His grunts have morphed into higher pitched moans as he’s bucking his hips off the couch into your mouth in tandem with your own movements, ferociously chasing the building heat in his gut.

“S-shit, fuck fuck fuck!” he yells while ripping your lips off of him by your hair, endless hot ropes of cum painting your pretty face. His mask, your cheeks, lips, and chin are dripping with white, each droplet slowly making it's way to your jawline. The sight is enough to almost make him come a second time, needing to throw his head back on the couch to avoid eye contact momentarily and pull himself together.

You hum with satisfaction and rise from your knees, straddling him on the couch once more. In the heat of the moment, you grab him by the jaw and plant a messy kiss on his lips, smearing his paintjob in the process. In the lusty haze, he doesn't give a shit that you mimicked his actions. Honestly? He kinda liked his own flavor - it complimented your own, dancing together on his tongue.

“Don’t you think you taste divine?” you purr, repeating his sentiment and licking some of the smeared cum off his cheek. You untie the mask and let it drop from your face, realizing that you may have just ruined his professional hero gear. “This…is washable, right?”

Katsuki laughs. “Yeah, don’t worry ‘bout it. 's gotta be with how dirty hero work gets.”

The two of you get up from the couch and walk to the bathroom to clean up. Once he’s done soaking a wash cloth with warm water, you’re taking his place and bending over the counter to rinse the remnants of his facial from your skin.

Lucky for him, you’re still not wearing any panties. And bent over like that? Your ass and pussy are on full display, still glistening from your previous orgasm.

Katsuki crouches to the ground, kneeling behind you and bites your bare ass with a huff. The sensation makes you jump, water splashing all over the counter and collar of your shirt.

“Katsuki!” You yelp, shutting off the water and blindly reaching for a towel nearby. “You’re insatiable.”

“Like you’re complaining.”

His tongue then traces from the inside of your thigh and stops just shy of your center, a shudder of anticipation wracking your body.

“You’re playing with fire, Kat,” you warn, spinning around and lifting your leg, placing a foot on his shoulder to teasingly show off your messy core. His eyes dart up to meet yours, a salacious grin settling on across his lips.

“Then fuckin’ light me up, princess.”

Something in you snaps - an unexplainable strong hunger captivating your mind. You wanted him to absolutely obliterate you in any and every way possible.

Everything happens in a flash - remaining clothes are strewn across the floor, bodies pressed against the plush of the sheets when you fall against the bed, tangled and relishing in the bare skin contact. The sensation kindles the fire in your veins, begging for more of him - all of him.

"K-Katsuki," you whimper onto his lips, breathless between frenzied kisses. "I want - no, need - you to fuck me like you hate my guts."

Your lascivious request has Katsuki's head swimming in a lewd sea of thoughts, gritting his teeth to hold back the ravenous desire. He can’t help but fist himself in response before leering over you.

“Oh, is that how you wanna play this game, baby?” He growls into the shell of your ear, squishing you further into the mattress. "Want me to use you like a fuckin' toy, eh? Poundin' away at your tight-ass cunt 'til ya can't take it?"

You're too enraptured by the promise swirling in your head to form any logical thoughts as his hands travel to your breast between your bodies, palms blistering hot to the touch as he tweaks your nipple. "When ya can't walk tomorrow, jus' remember y'asked me for this."

The incoherent whine that escapes you is involuntary, a raw reaction to his words. You hear a pleased hum rise from Katsuki's throat as he towers over you once more. He places a few tender kisses to your neck before he fiendishly groans, "I'm gonna fuckin' wreck you."

Not a second passes before his canines are puncturing your delicate skin, threatening to draw blood with how deep he's sinking into the bite on your jugular. Katsuki releases only to keep biting anywhere he could latch on to as he roamed your body - your neck, breasts, collarbone, shoulder, nipples, hips, thighs - eager to mark every inch of you, claim you as his. It makes you squirm and your pussy ache with need, lightning bolts of pleasure coursing through you with each snap of his teeth. Usually when he bit you, he’d soothe the area with a few kisses - but now? He was a rabid fucking animal, carnality overwhelming his ability to think straight.

You're able to get a quick look at his ruddy cock when Katsuki leans back, repositioning himself while gripping your hips. You’re salivating at the sight - thick, swollen and pulsing, spend dripping down his length and coating the skin with a sheen of arousal. He’s heavily tracing circles into your hip bones, his firm clutch on your waist keeping you in place. He’s tugging your center toward his own, teasingly slipping the head of his cock between your creamy folds. You’re about to plunge down onto him when he pulls back, a wicked grimace crossing his lips. A dissatisfied squeak spills from your lips, pouting up at him with metaphorical hearts in your eyes.

“Y’want this?” Katsuki snarls, bouncing his dick against your mound, the contact causing you to inhale sharply. “Beg like the needy slut you are.”

Words are failing you as you attempt to fulfill his demand, the only sounds falling from your puffed lips a succession of jumbled moans.

“Cat got your tongue, princess?” He snorts at his own pun under his breath as he trails his palm up your body, resting under your jaw and fixating on the seductive gleam in you pupils.

“I know how to find those pretty words ‘a yours.”

Katsuki applies firm pressure to your throat under his finger tips, tilting your head upward to face him. Your hips buck up in response, begging for him to spread you open.

He clicks his tongue at your shameless plea. "C'mon baby, tell me what ya want."

His fingers flex over your throat, playfully interchanging how much pressure he's using over the pulse in your jugular. His gaze travels down your newly bitten and bruised body, pleased with how they adorn your features.

With every ounce of concentration, you blurt out everything lingering in your heat-riddled mind. "Break the fucking bed, rip my soul from my body, leave me choking on every word, ravage me until there's nothing left...please, Katsuki!"

You barely finished screaming his name before Katsuki releases the hold on your throat, roughly returning his grips to your hips and ramming his cock straight into your sweltering sex, the burning sensation rolling your eyes back into your head.

"Good fuckin' girl, baby."

He's hypnotized by the way your tits bounce as he fucks in and out of you at a feral pace, sweat glistening over both your bodies. The room's temperature heightens, the humidity only adding to the wild desire you're sharing.

Suddenly, he pulls out of you, leaving you confused and yearning. You don't have time to ask questions as he's rolling - shoving - you onto your stomach, arching your hips into place before resuming his unmerciful thrusts, growling and grunting from behind you. The new position has you crying out, intoxicated by the way his cock is hitting every hotspot along your walls and g-spot repetitively. You're unable to contain the sounds spilling from your parted lips as they harmonize with Katsuki's moans. He bends down to snatch your hair by the roots, forcing your head off the pillow as his other hand reaches around your waist, finger pressing harshly against your puffy clit. The wail that bubbles from your throat is sinful, overwhelmed as the coil in your core is wound tighter, tighter, and tighter.

"I fuckin' love when you moan like a whore, baby," Katsuki barks out between baited breath. "Ya keep screamin' like that, 'm gonna end up stuffin' your pretty pussy full 'a cum."

You flutter around his dick in response, stroking his length with every snap of his hips. "Hah, seems like that's what your beggin' for, isn't it?"

He screws his eyes shut, jaw clenched as he's inching closer to the edge. Your clenched walls coax his release to come rocketing out of nowhere, a guttural moan spilling out of him as he pumps you full of spend. The warmth is inviting - comforting, leaving you floating on cloud nine. Katsuki lets your locks drop from his grasp and removes his hand from your clit, folding over your back with exhaustion.

Imagine his shock when you push back against him, causing him to slide out of you with a schlep and fall back against the bed. You reverse your position to face him, taking hold of his shoulders to pull him into a sitting position and shove his back against the wall.

"Wha-"

You straddle his lap, springing his still-hard cock back inside of you and begin riding him mercilessly.

"One more," you whisper, voice low and demanding. "I know you can do it, my good fucking boy can give me one more."

Your nails are digging into his chest, red scratches left in their wake as you grind your soaked center against his shaft. Katsuki's stuttering, unable to find words as the overstimulation mixed with praise short circuits his brain.

"Ba-mmph-baby, wa-ahh-wait, fuck!"

Numerous beads of sweat roll from his hairline and drip down his cheeks, slack jawed from delirium. A second wave of release is rapidly rising in his abdomen, high pitched whimpers falling from his open mouth.

"Ah-almost!" you shout, fingers tracing his hardened nipples and pinching them roughly. He jolts, a final whine escaping him as the aforementioned wave crashes down, a second round of seed spurting out inside of you. Your own slick rushes to meet his spend, mixing together as it leaks from between your legs and into his lap.

"Holy fuck," Katsuki wheezes, barely able to speak. "Wh-where the fuck did you learn that?!"

Your legs are trembling uncontrollably as you lift yourself off of his dick, falling sideways onto the bed.

"I...just thought to try it," you sigh, "Never thought I'd get you to whine like that. Fuck, Kat. That was ungodly hot."

His face is burning red and heat traveling down his neck, somewhat embarrassed at his reaction of losing himself in the moment.

"Oh no, you don't get to be embarrassed! With half the shit you do to me?!" you tease, kicking his thigh jokingly with your foot. He grumbles, scrunching his brows together and crossing his arms.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing you."

"Good, ya better. Now move your ass over and make room for me."

Katsuki flops next to you, too exhausted to get up from the bed. He wraps an arm around your waist and one under your head, cradling you close as your cheek meets his chest. You can hear his heartbeat thumping away as you close your eyes to the rhythm. He kisses your forehead before laying his head back against the mountain of pillows.

"Guess I should go away on missions more often if that's what I get 'ta come home to, shit. Feels like I just ran a fuckin' marathon."

You can't help but giggle, fighting off the itch to drift into slumber a little longer.

"I'm sneaking into your hotel room next time. No way am I waiting that long again!"

The two of you snuggle close, despite the ungodly amount of sweat coating your bodies and mugginess in the air, too enamored with one another to care.

"I love you so much, sweets. Don't forget that." Katsuki's voice is quiet, the words tightening in his throat as he speaks them aloud.

"I love you too, Katsuki. Forever and always."

He's satisfied with your answer as he closes his eyes, letting the wave of fatigue settle in his bones and lull him to sleep.

tagging @pastelbakugou as a thank you for the idea of a follow up 👀✨ no pressure tags!: @maddietries @slayfics @bkgrl @bub-ss hoping this was explosive enough! 🧡💥

[cynoswifey]

Cockwarming Genshin men

Characters: Althaitham, Kaveh,Cyno,Tighnari, Scaramouche and Kaeya

Warnings: NSFW topics involved

^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•

Althaitham-

Althaitham is very busy as the acting grand sage most of the time leaving you to your own devices. But here he is looking real pretty reading a book on the couch . So what else can you do but palm him through his pants earning a glance from then finally unbuckle his pants and sit comfortably on his dick. Moments like these are Alhaithams favorite he gets to read a book while being in your gummy walls that provide him with such warmth that he doesn't want you to move. Oh but after hes done with his book you better believe hes giving you the fucking of a life time

Kaveh-

Kaveh has had his mind so occupied with designing something that's he has worried his pretty wife. There he is drawing up ideas while looking stressed. Why not be a good wife and give him a blowjob hm? He try's to focus on the drawing but the way his dick is hitting the back if your mouth is driving him crazy earning yourself a mouth full of cum and a fully erect dick. Go ahead and sit yourself on him. He won't last long like this soon his focus is completely on you.

Cyno-

During a late TCG game with Althaitham, Kaveh, and Tighnari at the usual bar. Cyno uses the excuse that there is no chairs to have you sit on his lap to which he moves your panties to the side and slips his dick into you. He claims it helps him focus on the game your glad the skirt your wearing is covering where you both are connected. Then Tighnari points out how your cheeks are red and ask if your okay while putting a hand on your forehead which like all your body jd warm. He assumes you have a fever and suddenly the night of TCG is finished... thank goodness right?? Nah Cyno is going to have is way with you when you both get home

Tighnari-

Tighnari had just shot his load into you it still wasnt enought though. Even if his mind is hazed with lust from his heat he knew you were tired. So he gave you the option to take a nap on his shoulder. And so you did with his pretty dick still inside you. It takes every fiber in his being to not thrust up into you. He is able to only last an hour before he grips your hips and begins to thrust into you. Waking you up from your nap.

Scaramouche-

You sat on Scara's lap. Actually he was the one who sat you there. He dragged you early to a harbinger meeting sat down unzipped his zipper, moved your panties to the side and sat you on his dick. The meeting started soon towards the end Pierro asked you a question. Mid way through your answer scaramouche thrust into you causing your voice to raise a pitch. No one asked questions about it. But Scara teased you about it while he stuffed you full of him after the meeting

Kaeya-

Kaeya had you bended over his desk while he took you from behind. You had a hand placed in your mouth to control you moans. You felt the familiar feeling of your oragasm approaching and so did Kaeya. But then there's a knock at the door. Keaya smirks sits down his chair and seats you on top of him slipping himself into you again. He tells the person to come in. The person is Jean and came to tell Kaeya something you could care less and had your focus on Kaeyas dick inside you. Kaeya answers Jean so smoothly your honestly surprised at how well he is. Eventually there conversation comes to an end and then Jean acknowledges how red your cheeks are and ask if your feeling sick. Kaeya does not you hear the end of it after that

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Reblogs likes, and ask are appreciated!

Thank you!!!

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[2:41 pm]

(cw: f!reader, parents!au, a child)

You and dad!Jeno waited by the door of the kindergarten classroom as families began making their ways back home. The teachers smiled at the two of you as your daughter came bounding toward both of you with her comically large backpack bouncing up and down. She gave you both an excited squeal with a large smile.

As she kissed your cheek in greeting, Jeno helped her take off her backpack before scooping her up to greet her with a kiss on the cheek of her own. "Hey princess, how was your day?" Jeno asked her as you all walked back to the car.

She smiled and began recounting the details of the day. She told you about the snacks they ate, her lunch, the castle she built with the blocks, "and I played soccer with Hana and Ara and Jae!"

You climbed into the passenger seat as Jeno strapped her into her booster seat. His deft moving fingers froze. He knew all about Hana and Ara, they were her best friends, but who was Jae? And since when did your daughter play soccer? "Is Jae a new friend, baby?" You asked and Jeno tugged on the straps of her car seat to make sure she was secure.

Jeno climbed behind the wheel and started the car as your daughter responded, "yes! He's new to the class! His dad is a fighter fighter and his mom writes books!"

"He?! Jae is a boy?" Jeno asks with wide eyes, looking at his daughter through the rearview mirror.

He can see his daughter's tiny face blush as she hides her face, "He's my friend! And he's cute!"

You laugh, reaching back to give her knee a gentle squeeze as Jeno internally freaks out. "No! No! Boys can't be cute! Boys are stinky!" Jeno responds.

"Not Jae! Only you Appa!" His daughter argues back.

"Appa doesn't stink! You know what? I'm going to your school and I'm going to pop Jae's soccer ball!"

"No!" Your daughter whines as she kicks her legs out, hitting the back of Jeno's seat, "He shares with me! He's nice! And you're too big for my class."

"I'm gonna sneak in like a ninja when you have nap time and I'm going to eat all his snacks too!" Jeno sassily responds, eyes on the road.

The girl kicks the seat as she whines and you lightly smack his forearm, "stop it, you're being mean to her."

He can hear his daughter groan, "yeah! You're being mean to me! And Jae!"

Jeno sighs, pulling up the driveway, 5 years old and she was already stressing him out. "Fine, but he can only be your friend, got it?"

She scoffs and crosses her arms across her chest. When Jeno goes to get her out of the car, she refuses his help and whines for you instead. Jeno grumbles under his breath as he follows the two of you into your home with a sparkly backpack in hand.

He watches the two of you smile and giggle to each other and keeps hearing Jae's name come up. He watches you smother her with affection as you both laugh and you both make your way to her room. When he walks by a few minutes later he can hear his daughter tell you she wants to wear a pretty dress tomorrow and she wants braids in her hair again because Jae told her they were cool.

Jeno runs a hand down his face tiredly, this was only the beginning. He thought it would be years until he heard the b word, boyfriend, be used, not a week later. Then he seriously considers sneaking into his daughter's school and popping all the soccer balls.

[skyahri]

Preferences |Naruto Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Shikamaru Nara, Naruto Uzumaki, and Kakashi Hatake.

Summary: Body type preferences???

Warnings: NSFW!!! They're all short but explicit so, yknow, beware.

- - - - -

Sasuke Uchiha

Honestly speaking, he doesn't care all that much. He doesn't pay much mind to physical appearance when he's actually considering someone. He's more worried about them meeting his ridiculously high standards when it comes to things like power and tolerability.

But he'd be lying if he said he didn't prefer someone with a little more in the back.

He walks a bit behind you when possible just to get a peak at your plump figure. He likes to trail his hand from a respectable place on your waist down towards your ass. He'll brush his hands over your behind, occasionally he'll offer a little squeeze if he's feeling frisky.

He prefers the cushion, the feel of his thighs and hips hitting something soft. He likes to hit it from the back, just because of the endless possibilities he has to get a taste. Petting, gripping, groping, spanking, anything just to show your nice ass some attention.

Shikamru Nara

There's nothing in this world that can't be fixed by lying on your chest. No amount of bothersome people or troublesome missions can ruin the utter bliss that is your soft tits after a long day.

They're truly the perfect pillow. Your warm body heat, your squishy chest, and the sound of your heartbeat never fail to calm his mind and ease him into what's bound to be a wonderful nap.

It's even better when you're on top of him, leaning down to give him a kiss as you roll your hips against his. The view is immaculate and all he can do is sigh in appreciation.

Maybe he's the one on top, sending slow thrusts your way. He dips his head against your chest so he can kiss, lick, bite, suck- whatever, as long as it means he gets to touch your pretty tits.

Naruto Uzumaki

He really hadn't given it much thought. Sure, Jiraiya was always going on and on about women, but Naruto was busy with a million other things.

But that was then and this is now, and this is you.

All he could think about was how good you looked in the latest modification to your uniform. He's not a pervert, he swears, but it's like your tits are calling to him. They're sat so pretty, practically on display for him and he can't help but oggle.

It doesn't help the way you push your arms together as you gush about your day to him. He doesn't know if you do it on purpose or not, but he absolutely buys into it any opportunity he gets.

One moment you're talking and he's listening, and the next he's just... not. His gaze is fixated on your chest and you immediately notice. You can't help but laugh and he can't help but watch as your chest jiggles ever so slightly at the action.

You pull at his hand, snapping him out of whatever dirty thoughts are running through his head, and lead him further into your home, straight to the bedroom.

Kakashi Hatake

He's a coneseuir of sorts. His preferred genre of books and practical experience have given him the tools to appreciate all body parts equally.

That being said, he's absolutely a thigh guy.

He's not quiet about his love for your legs. He'll stare and give snarky compliments when he's inevitably caught.

He'll take whatever you're willing to give. He'll bury his face between your thighs and groan when you squeeze them around his head as you cum. He'll fold you in half, digging his calloused fingers into your soft flesh. He'll run his hands up and down them when you're on top, only stopping to give you soft squeezes of approval.

[vanteguccir]

chris/matt’s reaction to reader calling them pretty boy or just really soft pet names in general 🤍

chris:

I totally think Chris, even though he feels flustered, he would try to make it about you, trying to turn the attention to you, his chest would be SO warm, and he would feel so happy 😭😭

- A SMALL BLURB BC I CAN -

Chris leaned against the doorframe of their shared room, watching Y/N fiddle with a new piece of jewelry she’d bought. She sat cross-legged on the bed, the cozy warm light from the bedside table showering her body, making her look angelic. Her focus on the delicate bracelet was intense, her brows furrowed in concentration.

Chris couldn’t help but smile. As if sensing his gaze, Y/N looked up, her face breaking into a bright, infectious smile.

"There you are!" She exclaimed, her eyes lighting up even more. She patted the spot next to her on the bed. "Come here, pretty boy."

Chris’s heart skipped a beat. He walked over, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"Pretty boy, huh?" That was new, and he couldn't lie and say he didn't like it.

Y/N giggled, a sound that always made his heart flutter. She nodded enthusiastically, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

"Yes, you’re my pretty boy."

Chris sat down next to her, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. He loved how her words could make him feel so special.

"Well, if I’m your pretty boy, what does that make you?" He asked, leaning in closer, his warm breath hitting her cheeks.

Y/N’s blush deepened, and she looked down at her bracelet, trying to hide her giddiness.

"I guess that makes me a lucky girl." She murmured.

Chris chuckled softly, lifting her chin with a gentle finger.

"The luckiest." He agreed, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. Her skin was warm under his lips, and he could feel her smile against him. "My lucky girl."

matt:

Matt is just a softie, he would get SO lost and flustered, blushing like crazy and stuttering 😭😭😭😭

- HERE WE GO -

Y/N lounged on the couch, the warm glow of the afternoon sun casting a golden hue across the room. She was nestled in her favorite corner, a book in hand, when she heard the familiar sound of Matt's footsteps coming from the small hall that led to their shared room. He entered the living room, his hair slightly tousled from a nap, and his eyes still heavy with sleep.

"Hey, sleepyhead." Y/N greeted him with a smile, her eyes sparkling with affection. "Did you have a good nap?"

Matt rubbed his eyes and stretched, a soft yawn escaping his lips.

"Yeah, I did. I needed that. Recording all night wasn't a good idea... How's your book?"

"It's amazing, but you know what's even better?" Y/N's smile grew wider as she set her book aside, giving Matt her full attention. "Seeing my pretty boy all relaxed and well rested."

Matt froze, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink. He wasn't used to such compliments, even though Y/N always seemed to catch him by surpise, as if she knew exactly how to make his heart race every time.

"P-Pretty boy?" He stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, his blue eyes turning wide open, shining below the daylight that came from the big window.

"Yes, pretty boy." Y/N repeated, leaving her book aside and standing up, walking over to him. She reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, aligning his messy curls. "You are the most beautiful, kind-hearted person I know, yeah?"

Matt's eyes widened, his blush spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, each beat louder than the last. He was such a sucker for praises, and Y/N knew that very well.

"Y/N, you can't just say things like that." He mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Why not? It's true." She replied, her smile widening as she lowered her hand from his hair to his face, caressing his jaw.

Matt's heart raced as he felt her touch. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so flustered. He bit his lip, trying to suppress a grin but failing miserably.

"I-I... uh... th-thank you." He managed to say, his voice trembling.

Y/N chuckled softly, loving how flustered he became. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"You're adorable when you're shy." She teased, her lips brushing against his skin.

[simplyreveries]

"and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like 'i love you'"

riddle rosehearts

riddle feels such a strange feeling in his chest, he hates it. he feels nervous as you make his chest squeeze and filled with pressure every time, you're near— it washes away as soon as you turn and talk to him. he feels frustrated because he finds himself unable to focus, unable to think clearly when all he sees you. you make him feel such a sense of comfort, he feels like he can fully let his guard down and tell you everything about him if you asked and it scares him. he has looked into how he is feeling, tried asking trey bashfully or read books, things online how he could possibly cope with this sickness.

more often than not he’s drawn to observing and noticing everything about you, your little quirks, expressions, comments, when your right in front of him now, laughing and talking freely amongst your friends around him happily helping out and cleaning up a little. he doesn't seem to be near nor saying a word but only mesmerized as he watches from a distance, he feels so much in a daze of this realization that he doesn't snap out when you walk over to him, he looks at you with a distressed look.

"... have you ever been in love?"

leona kingscholar

despite leona’s intelligence and knowing just exactly what he is feeling about you, he is stubborn at heart. he absolutely hates what you're doing to him, he can't even sleep and take a nap in peace without you invading his thoughts. it looks like he’s angry at you or frustrated, really but it's just him unable to handle the emotions you make him experience. he is infuriated with how he succumbs to the jealously that you make him feel when you're with others, that he feels need to want that attention back on him. still, you talk and find him, usually talking his ear off about something random and some event that occurred to you today.

he has his eyes closed but still listens to you. sometimes you’ll join a game of chess with him, to which he usually takes the pride in winning. he never really questioned as to why you're so persistent on befriending or even just being around him, perhaps you warmed up to him when he cracked and gave into letting you and grim stay at his dorm when yours was practically taken over. his demeanor around you is small, but noticeable. sometimes you'd tease and laugh, you tell him "you must love me" his eyes are kept on you with his eyebrows raised, but he wouldn't say anything to deny.

"do you really wanna make me say it?"

azul ashengrotto

azul finds his demeanor collapsing around you, when he tries to play his cool-headed, business oriented, cleverly scheming person with a smug grin that turns into a stupid smile because he finds himself too nervous around you and so happy being close to you. any attempt he makes to be "suave" around you, it only shows what a hopeless man he is. he feels like he has to look like he absolutely is perfect in front of you, how else would you fall for him? nevertheless, you always seem to be able to see right through him and he hates that. he doesn't want to feel vulnerable, its icky to him.

he watches you after hours in the mostro lounge as you hum and finish closing and cleaning up with him and some others, however now it only seems to be you and azul. he knows he shouldn’t be staring but he tells himself just a few moments more, he always found you under the lighting to be mesmerizing. he hears you telling him about something silly that happened while you were serving, he hears you but can't focus as his mind is running with a million thoughts, if you ask him what it is, he clears his throat and carefully adjusts his glasses, replying slowly.

“i just... love you”

kalim al-asim

his feelings hit so hard, as soon as he got them, he loved it and wanted more of the adrenaline and high of being completely enamored with someone. he loved all the little things that happens throughout the day that makes him so giddy and happy he thinks about it as he tries to sleep, excited for tomorrow to come to see you. kalim feels like he is literally your other half, always wanting to be right beside you.

he finds himself daydreaming quite often, of what it'd be like to be yours, even the thought of you giving him a kiss on the cheek has him flushed. of course, you’d find himself at his celebrations and parades he holds at his dorm. he'd always try to get you to dance, grabbing your hands and jumping up and down with you laughing at least. kalim feels like he can say anything to you and thats exactly what he does. he grabs your hands and bring it up to his face near his lips.

"i love you!"

vil schoenheit

he had his apprehensions; you were more so just someone he knew and eventually because dormmates during his stay with the others at ramshackle. vil had always seemed so drawn to you, if you notice him staring and give a nervous, confused look he'll smoothly adjust something on you. it looks like he can see right through you at times, it didn't take long for him to believe what a genuinely good soul you are in this school. when you and the others were dealing with the events that unfolded when dealing with idia and STYX, when vil had hugged you and pressed a kiss to your forehead he realized just how fully he was deep in this. he pulled away and stared at you for a moment with his hands gripped on your arms that took a longer to fully pull away.

you've sparked such an interest in him, he practically found himself becoming infatuated over time. you'll find yourself within his dorm as he carefully applies makeup to your face-- he adores doing but he can't help but feel amused with a smile creeping to his face when he feels how strangely intimate it feels between you too with him so close. he looks at you with the dreamiest daze, he'll pinch your cheek lightly before moving to grab something else.

"i cant believe i've fallen for you"

idia shroud

he stares and fidgets on his phone nervously, biting his already scarred lip-- he is staring at your contact. he wants to get it off his chest, he wants to get it out of the way if you're reciprocating and feel the same way to someone like him. ortho practically bugs him all the time to, confident and laughs even when he brings up the idea- ortho knows you and thinks idia will be successful and pleasantly surprised with your answer. idia hates that he can't help the way he feels around you, he feels a sense of relief and comfort when you're near- like he doesn't need to be absolutely on edge.

yet as soon as he felt that sensation around you, he eventually turned into his fear because of his infatuation he has around you only grew. he feels his mouth goes dry and struggles to finds something to say when he's looking right at you. you'll still see his moments where he's rambling about something he built or a media he is enjoying but he grows back more into his shell of anxiety when he realizes how much he feels. he considers you perfect and honestly, far out of his league. there was no one someone like you would possibly fall for someone like him. still, idia has found himself to be a pathetic mess when it comes to you and quickly presses send.

"I think i love you"

malleus draconia

surprisingly, out of all of them - i feel like its him that falls for you the quickest. he found himself to be so smitten with you as soon as he accidentally stumbled upon you when it was unbeknownst to him that you were living in the ramshackle dorm now. he admires you, you've shown anything but fear around him and made him feel seen. he truly believes its fate that you somehow found yourself all the way to twisted wonderland and you two had met each other, he tends to find his mind drifting and thinking about that a lot. despite you possessing no magic, he still sometimes will tell you even before confessing that you must hold something. malleus won't give you an exact answer as to why he thinks that yet– being playful and mysterious as he quietly laughs to himself. you stumbled into this unknown world and made him this infatuated. he can't take his eyes off of you during the nights you find yourself talking to him, he watches you look at the nature, as he often shares you the beauty of it in the late hours.

"you've bewitched me, havent you?"

[ribread03]

Our Song I

m.sturniolo

Summery: When you receive a DM from nick asking you about doing a collaboration with them you cant help but say yes!

THIS IS MY WORK AND MY IDEA! PLEASE DONT USE THIS AS “INSPIRATION” OR TAKE IT WITHOUT GETTING MY PERMISSION FIRST! thank you :)

AN: this is part one of the series “our song” if you would like to know more about “y/n” you can use the mood board! Enjoy :)

Y/N POV

You’re sitting at your desk editing the newest YouTube video you plan to put out. Music is playing in the background as you zone out into your computer. Your phone dings, pulling you out your computer to see who might have messaged you.

Your heart skips a beat when you see “nicolassturniolo sent you a message” in your notification stack. You’ve been a fan of the sturniolo triplet since what felt like forever, and now Nick is messaging you on instagram. You’re in such a state of shock as you open the message, hands trembling as you read what it says;

“Hello, Me, Matt and Chris have come across your YouTube channel and we’re wondering if you want to collab with us sometime in the future….”

Flash Back Two Weeks Ago…

You had just finished editing a YouTube video to post, hitting the post button you close your computer and lay down to take a nap. Expecting the usual few hundred comments and likes when you wake up in a few hours.

Boy were you wrong… A few hours go by and you wake up and see that your video has blown up, thousands of views, thousands of comments, and thousands of new subscribers. Your eyes scan your phone “congratulations on 1 MILLION subscribers” was in your email.

“OH! MY! GOD!” You screamed out, alerting your parents who happened to be downstairs, to hear you. Jumping up and out of bed, starting to exit your room, stepping over piles of books and clothes.

“Y/N? Are you okay!?” You can hear your mother frantically call up to you while walking up the stairs.

“I HIT A MILLION SUBSCRIBERS!” You say excitedly while meeting her in the hallway…

Back to the present…

“Oh. my. god…” you say quietly, fingers hovering over your screen, scared that if you hit anything this will all be a figment of your imagination. Clicking on the notification you hold your breath as your phone unlocks and opens instagram… this is no figment of your imagination. This is real life and the triplets really want to collaborate with you.

You let out a few more silent “omgs” before heading downstairs to talk to your mom about all of this. You exit your room and walk down the stairs, “Momma?” You say softly as you round the corner into the kitchen.

“Yeah sweetie?” Your mom says as she’s washing the dishes. You sit on a small stool on the floor before you talk again, petting your cat, nugget, that was by your feet.

“I got a message from Nick Sturniolo, asking if I wanted to collaborate with them,” you can hear the excitement in your voice as you tell your mom. Your mom also knows that you’ve been a fan, and practically obsessed, with these three boys since high school and have always wanted to meet them one day.

“You did? That’s great honey, what did you say?” She asks turning the sink off and turning to face you.

“I didn’t answer yet.. I'm honestly scared because what if they change their minds?” You explain to your mom with a nervous chuckle. Your cat had now made its way up onto your lap, purring loudly.

“I think you should do whatever you want, just know that a flight out to LA might be expensive.” You took your mom’s words to heart and gave her a small nod.

“I want to go out and meet them, a collaboration would help me so much.. maybe if I get a little more information then I’ll be able to see if I can afford it or not,” you explained back to your mom, pulling your phone out to DM Nick back.

“I would love to collab with you guys one day! That has been an absolute dream of mine forever. I would love to share some more information about when and where if possible.” You hit send with slightly shaky fingers before talking to your mom again, “I just messaged him back, I asked him for some more details on when and where we would collab”

“Okay sweetie,” your mom says softly before returning to whatever she was doing in the kitchen, before you came out there to talk to her. You give your cat a few more pets before standing and going back into your room, waiting for Nick to message you back with more details surrounding this possible future collaboration…

Matts POV

“Did you ask her yet?” Matt was sitting next to Nick looking over at his phone. Matt had seen your YouTube video and thought you were the most beautiful, funny, and relatable person on the internet, and he knew right then and there he needed to meet you.

He had asked Nick and Chris what they thought of some of your YouTube videos, hinting at the idea of a collaboration with you. Saying and pointing out things that would hopefully catch his brother's attention and make them also want to meet you, just maybe not for the same reason.

Matt would find himself scrolling through your instagram when he was bored, careful not to like any of your posts, wanting to keep you out of his fans stalking obsessions before he could even properly meet you. Thumbs carefully scrolling on TikTok as he watches every video you’ve made on there, watching how every video is a little different.

“Yes Matt, I did ask her,” Nick says with a slight eye roll, becoming tired of his brother’s constant asking. Nick's phone dings lightly, alerting that someone messaged him, the someone being you. Nick opens instagram and the messages that the two of you have sent back and forth. Matt's eyes scan the screen quickly, not caring that he might be invading some privacy of his brothers.

Matt's eyes land on the words, “I would love to collab with you guys one day! That has been an absolute dream of mine forever…” and he immediately becomes happier, his smile widening and eyes seem to sparkle and little more.

Nick sends you a quick DM back, asking if regular texting would be easier to send information through and that the collab would be sometime within the next two months. “I can’t believe she said yes!” Matt explains to Nick, his excitement evident in his tone.

“I didn’t think she would say no,” Nick says calmly, typing out his phone number to send to you…

AN: i hope you enjoyed this first part! If you would like to be on the tag list for this series comment on this post! Just asking to be added and i will do so :) feed back and thoughts are always welcome!

All boarders are from @issysh3ll

[strnilolover]

Player!Chris notices Ditsy!Reader being hit on uninvitedly …

Thursdays were a particularly slow day for you — your lectures were spaced out and you had lots of free time between them. Normally you’d opt for going back to your dorm, maybe take a nap or read a book to your favorite series you were reading — or work on some of the class work for some of your courses with Chris.

But, today you had chosen differently. It was bright and sunny outside, the kind of warmth that was just right to sit in and enjoy without getting too overheated.

Your body weaved through people, holding your books close to your chest as you made your way to the fountain that sat in the middle of the campus grounds. Accidentally bumping into a few people when you got too lost in thought about different subjects — muttering a quick apology before continuing your route.

As you continued to walk across campus, you pulled out your phone from your bag to text Chris. You were supposed to meet up with him soon, but he hadn’t told you where he was yet, so you decided to let him know your plans.

You: Heading to the fountain. Meet me there when you’re free!

You tucked your phone back into your bag swiftly as you finally made it to the fountain. It’s gentle bubbling and colorful flowers surrounding it — it was the perfect place to lose yourself in a book. It wasn’t long before you found a seat on the stone ledge, setting your books down and opening the dog-eared paperback you always carried.

You hadn’t been reading long when a shadow had suddenly fell across your page. Looking up, you thought it was Chris, having finally made his way to where you were — but instead you saw a group of guys standing around you, their expressions cocky and intrusive.

“Hey there, pretty girl,” one of them said, grinning. Your brows furrowed, an uneasy feeling fluttering in your chest. “Hi,” you said softly, your grip tightening on your book.

“You waitin’ for someone?” another asked, stepping closer. “’Cause it looks like you’ve got some time to kill.” his voice had this undertone to it that you couldn’t place…they didn’t seem like they were wanting to be friendly.

“I’m just reading,” you replied, your voice small as you shrugged your shoulders slightly. “Reading? What’s so interesting in there?” the first guy said, leaning down to get a better look. “Bet it’s some cheesy romance novel, huh?” he teased mockingly.

You shook your head, trying to focus back on your book. “It’s not cheesy.” you muttered, trying to take your focus off of them the best you could.

“Oh, come on,” he said, laughing. “You don’t need to sit here reading by yourself. We could keep you company.” he cooed, a cocky grin being placed on his lips. “That’s okay,” you murmured, hoping they’d take the hint. But instead, one of them plopped down beside you, way too close for comfort.

“You don’t have to be shy,” he said, flashing a grin. “We’re just trying to be friendly.” — yeah a little too friendly. “Yeah,” another chimed in, crouching in front of you. “You’re cute. What’s your name?”

You hesitated, “Um…” shrinking back slightly. “I’m fine, really. I just want to read.” The guy beside you chuckled, draping an arm across the back of the ledge. “Aw, don’t be like that. You’re too pretty to sit here all by yourself. We’re just trying to get to know you.”

Before you could respond, the one in front of you reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “She’s shy,” he said, smirking. “That’s adorable.”

You leaned back away from his touch, clutching your book to your chest. “Please don’t—” but before your sentence could fully leave your lips, a sharp voice cut through the tension between you and the guys.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

The voice made you jump, and all four of the guys froze, their heads snapping toward the source. Chris was standing a few feet away, his arms crossed and his jaw clenched. His blue eyes flicked to you for a moment, softening briefly before narrowing on the group of guys.

“Oh, hey, Chris,” one of them said, trying to play it cool. “Didn’t know this was your girl.”

Chris stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “Doesn’t matter if she’s mine or not. What the fuck gives you the right to corner her like that?” he bit out, his teeth gritting together so hard you thought he might break them.

“Relax, man,” the guy sitting beside you said, holding up his hands. “We were just talking.”

Chris’ brow raised. “Talking?” his voice was icy, his glare cutting. “This is what you call talking? Surrounding her, getting in her face, touching her without permission? You think that’s okay?” he spat out, his body coming closer until he was standing directly in front of them.

“Come on, Chris,” one of them said, rolling his eyes. “You’re one to talk. We’ve all seen you with girls. You’re with a different one every week.” he tried to argue.

Chris’s jaw tightened more, his fists clenching at his sides. “Yeah, I’ve been with girls. But you know what I don’t do? Corner them, harass them, or make them feel uncomfortable. Don’t even try to put me in the same category as you.” he said coldly, like it was the most dumbest statement someone had tried to ever make toward him.

The guys exchanged uneasy glances, their bravado faltering. “Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?” Chris continued, his voice rising. “She was sitting here reading, minding her own business. You don’t get to pull this crap and call it flirting.” and as he said that, the guy sitting next to you stood up — the others backing up slightly.

“Chill, man. It’s not that serious,” one of them mumbled, but he wouldn’t meet Chris’s eyes. “It’s serious to me,” Chris snapped. “Now get the fuck outta here before I make you.”

The group hesitated, but one look at Chris’s furious expression was enough to send them retreating with muttered apologies. Chris waited until they were out of sight before turning to you, his expression softening instantly. “You okay angel?”

You nodded shakily, clutching your book to your chest. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.” you muttered. Chris crouched down in front of you, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of distress. “They didn’t touch you, did they?” he whispered, bringing a hand up to gently touch your cheek,

You shook your head quickly. “No, I’m okay. You got here just in time.” And Chris let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Good. Because if they had…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Never mind. What were they even thinking?” he muttered — more to himself than you.

“I don’t know,” you said softly. “They just wouldn’t leave me alone.” you said, feeling the unease in your stomach pooling more at the thought, but lessening slightly. Chris frowned, standing up and offering you his hand. “Come on. Let me walk you somewhere. I don’t trust those idiots not to come back.”

And you hesitated before slowly placing your hand in his, letting him pull you to your feet. “Thanks, Chris,” you whispered, looking up at him, his hands reaching for your bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

His smirk returned, though it was tinged with protectiveness. “Always angel. Nobody’s allowed to do that and just get away with it. They’re lucky i didn’t break their fucking jaws. fuckin’ assholes.” he muttered as he placed his arm around your shoulder, leading you toward the building with the food court.

As the two of you walked away together, you couldn’t help but feel your heart race — partly from the lingering nerves, but mostly from the way Chris looked at you — the way he protected you.

What was this feeling?