#have to like. kind of pick up the slack for him

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan Masochist Bully + Quiet Reader Drabble

[Reader has a speech impediment. Mentions of Physical violence]

"Get back here!-"

The gravel in his voice does little to detour you. The heals on your shoes spring against concrete as you pick up pace - gunning for the accumulating crowd ahead. As appalling as human contact was most days, bumping shoulders with your schoolmates was the lesser evil to tackle.

Just a few more steps and you'd lose him for good. Head home, take a shower, go to bed, and when he approaches you tomorrow deny all accusations. There's loads of students in your school. What he saw today was merely a trick of the light. With luck, you could weasel your way out of this and maybe, just maybe finish out the semester without drawing attention to yourself-

A harsh tug on your book bag sucks you into one of the many crevices in your school's foundation formed between buildings. The fluff of your sweater cushions you from the oncoming shove, though something tells you if he had wanted to hurt you with that push he would've. Balling your collar in his fist, he evens out the short distance between you - warm breath tickling your cheek.

"What. The fuck was that?"

You blink - lips wired shut. What did he mean exactly? Your brief conversation with that kind girl who sat next to you after class? The handful of words you gave back? The fraction of a smile you gave her when she invited you to her pool party?

Turns out, it was all of the above.

"So you're making friends now, huh? What does she have that I don't?" He barks, knuckles ashen from the tightening grip on your collar. "I give you the same treatment she does. I wave at you, I invite you to sit with me so you aren't alone. Not a peep from you. Why. Is. She. Different?"

Maybe it's the fact she doesn't press you for a reply. Maybe it's because she took the time to become someone you felt safe enough to air your impairment around. Maybe it's because she didn't act like you speaking to her was a miracle- unlike someone you knew.

"Le-Let go..."

Erin cups his free hand around his ear. "What was that? Can't hear you when you're mumbling."

Its too late to turn back now.

"I s-s-said le-t go of me, Er-in."

He's bothered you long enough to know you aren't afraid of him. Not him directly. Is this it? The big secret you've been hiding from him?

"Do you.... have a stutter?"

Your silence speaks volumes.

"Holy shit- You totally do! Is that why you haven't spoken to me all this time? You afraid I'll make fun of you? Fuck, that's so cut-"

Elbow scrapping the wall as you wind your arm back, you fling your fist forward in a blow that connects square center with his chest. Erin wheeze, hold on your sweater slacking enough for you to wiggle free and escape - bolting out of the alleyway before he could retaliate.

Wiping spittle from his lips, Erin gazes wistful at the spot where you once stood. The one time he doesn't have his camera on you, and this happens- He didn't consider himself unlucky given what he gained regardless.

You spoke to him. Him. Of all people.

And that stutter of yours-

It could just be the pain of your punch messing with his head, but if you got any cuter his heart just might explode out of his chest.

[lagooneah]

Alright so... DMC Nero Sparda relationship headcanons (im obsessed with him)

I feel like Nero would be a genuine but semi-corny flirt. He'd feel comfy in your relationship for sure but he'd want to make SURE people know you're his with small gestures like a hand at your hip randomly or getting in the face of other guys trying to hit on you (they've made the biggest mistake of their lives)

I just KNOW this man is loyal.

Like you never EVER have to worry about him straying from you. YOU are his one and only, as far as he's concerned. YOU are the one who accepted him and his devil blood. YOU took him as he was, and he'll never destroy that.

With that in mind, he's very protective of his relationship with you. He knows you're loyal, so that's not the issue, the man is FILLED with irrational fears.

What if you get tired of how demanding his job as a devil hunter can be?

What if he can't be there for you when it matters most?

What if he hurts you?

When he IS home with you, he makes sure you know just how much he loves you, how much he'd destroy the WORLD for you.

Hugging and holding you, kisses EVERYWHERE, and most of all? Praise.

This man is the type to hype up his partner so much that it almost seems disingenuous how MUCH he can point out.

But he's got keen senses, and just the SLIGHTEST thing about you catches his attention.

"Damn baby! You look wonderful." He'd say, even if you were currently wearing sweatpants and a sleep shirt.

Or "Don't tempt me." He'd say with a smirk winking at you as you go to the bathroom to shower.

Aside from this obnoxious flirting, that he later starts to do more of simply because it makes you cringe, he gives you much softer ones in the quiet of your lives too.

"I love you, you're perfect- why are you so perfect? Its not fair." He'd grumble almost playfully as he kisses your cheek for the thousandth time.

OR "You know you can talk to me, sweetheart. I dont bite." Would be him trying to get you to open up about whatever troubles you.

Best BELIEVE he picks up the subtle cues in your body language and behavior that show you're feeling a certain way.

"*insert random tic* is something y/n only does when she's hungry/mad/anxious." Etc, etc.

Now... His jealousy level... Is not that bad! (A blatant lie, he will be the most jealous man you've ever met)

Not in an obnoxious "You can't be around dudes" way, but in a "I'm gonna Crack that mfs skull if he checks you out again" kind of way.

He's at least a quarter devil, give him some slack.

He hates, HATES when women get catcalled. He hated it with Nico, and he hates it even MORE now. If that was even possible.

"Women should be allowed to wear whatever the fuck they like!" Is a familiar phrase from Nero- so dont worry, he'd NEVER attempt to control your outfits based solely on his jealousy.

He does believe though, that you aren't allowed to be mad if he drapes his coat over your nicely dressed figure if you get one too many catcalls (once, all it needs to happen is one time)

He just wants you safe- this world is full of creeps and he doesn't mind chewing someone out in public a bit if it means your comfort and safety.

Speaking of "chewing someone out," you come to find out deep into your relationship that Nero is much nicer, much more patient when you're around.

Nico, who receives the brunt of his bickering and sass, has told you flat out that "He's actually tolerable when you're around."

Not that he's mean normally per se. He just... Becomes oddly sweeter when you're near.

At first you didn't believe it, you didn't believe his subtle alter ego until you saw him getting visibly annoyed at Nico, grumbling and giving whatever jabs or snaps he could- typical bickering- until he saw you, and he immediately lit up and ran to you like a happy puppy to their owner.

Nico hasn't stopped calling him "Puppy-Dog" after laughing so hard at that little incident. Much to his dismay, you also giggle violently at this nickname, and you two now gang up on him at any instance.

It's even funnier when he yells at Nico to stop but softly pleads to you if you say anything.

Nico: "Hey there Puppy-Dog, dont get mad at me now-" Nero: "Oh shove it Nic!"

Y/N: *giggling* "Come on Puppy-Dog, let's be more positive, yeah?" Nero: "I... Baby- please dont call me- *groan* nevermind..."

Moral of the story? Nero is a sorry, hopelessly in-love part devil who will literally let you do almost anything and shape his love and life around you. You knows hes always got your back, and you've got his; and I know i have more headcanons for this dork, but I'd make this post too long if I included them all. Let me know if you want any more! (I'll likely write it anyway)

[ch3micallyinsane]

(draft from yesterday)

pls read this it took an hour and a half to write

| 1. Favorite character? Turtle! He's just. himself. i want to kick him in the face and then cuddle with him like a cat and pet him and give him cookies

| 2. Least favorite character? I find Deathbringer quite unpleasant, maybe him.

| 3. Favorite book? I can't choose! I loved TLH. TDG and THQ were neat too.

| 4. Least favorite book? 15. Missed oppurtunity, that's all. I still love Lizard though.

| 5. Favorite Arc? Arc 1. The other two's final books drag them down quite a bit but you can't go wrong with the OGs.

| 6. Least favorite Arc? Arc 2 by process of elimination. I love it, but the love triangle, book 10, and Carnelian's death mess it up a bit. Delightful for aus, rewrites, and other fan-content though.

| 7. Favorite protagonist group? Argh, don't make me choose! They're all great.

| 8. Least favorite protagonist group? My affection for the DoD's relationship marginally is lesser than the other two. I find them a tad more fascinating as individuals.

| 9. Favorite antagonist? Queen Scarlet! Ain't she just the darndest thing? She's so dang fun.

| 10. Least favorite antagonist? Cottonmouth, because he was poorly written and unpleasant.

| 11. Favorite quote? I'm not sure. I quote "frog-faced blog of camel spit" on occasion, let's go with that.

| 12. One thing you'd add to an arc/ book? I would have Carnelian survive and join the Pertle gang in Book 8. I feel having a "normal" SkyWing citizen's view of Peril's life and the Scarlet-Ruby situation would add a lot to the story. I would love to see her dynamic with Moon and Jou as well.

| 13. One thing you'd take from an arc/ book? The infamous Qinterwatcher love triangle. I find Qinter okay and Winterwatcher a tad better than my beloathed Moonbli, but I would much prefer the shipping be nowhere near such a main focus as in arc 2, mostly Darkness of Dragons. It seems, in my opinion, that Tui obliterated Winter's character- especially in relation to Moon and Qibli- in order to essentially tell the reader, "Hey! Look how mean Winter is! Why would you ship Moon with him now? Obviously Qibli is the correct choice." I'll cut Tui some slack though, it feels like she was burnt out when she wrote it. I choose to think of DoD as non-canon.

| 14. When did you start reading Wings of Fire? I was seven or eight years old, been obsessed with dragons since pre-Kindergarten, at the book store with my dad. He pointed out a book on the shelf with a blue dragon on the front and we went and found the first book in the series. I read exactly 16 pages that day. Not sure why I remember such a specific detail, but I do. I picked the book back up a few months later and couldn't put it down. Aside from a year or so dip in interest when I hit book 13, I've never lost the obsession.

| 15. Any design headcanons? I have a handful of draft headcanons for HiveWings and Silkwings. I imagine SilkWings with fur and a third pair of raptorial limbs that act as arms and are used for silk-spinning. Manes on their necks is a common trait. I imagine HiveWings are descendant from a kind of non-tribe with lots of hybrids, mostly BeetleWing. They have lots and lots of variety- some are scaley, some furry. Some have two eyes, some have four. Some have raptorial arms, some don't. Some have thick, bee-like tails and some have long, slender, more reptilian tails.

| 16. Any backstory headcanons? I'm sure I have better ones, but all I can think of right now is this one: insert link later

| 17. General character headcanons? Here's a random one, Turtle is alterhuman(dragon). I see him as otherhearted, with a coral snake as his heartype.

| 18. Favorite tribe? SeaWings! They're fascinating. Plus Tsunami was one of my first fictional crushes and Turtle is my favorite character.

| 19. Least favorite tribe? NightWings, OP.

| 20. Favorite canon ship? I enjoy Blicket quite a bit!

| 21. Least favorite canon ship? Glorybringer, Ripnami, and Moonbli are unpleasant. I like Ripnami as best friends, but dislike them as lovers, the real Glory would NEVER tolerate Deathrbinger, and Moonbli is just so so so boring. No chemistry at all between the two, and book 10 was worsened in pursuit of their ship.

| 22. Favorite non-canon ship? I can't choose. Been rotating Blicketdew and Blicketdewdrakejou (both polyamorous) in my mind quite a bit lately though.

| 22. Least favorite non-canon ship? I'd say my least favorites are DoD x DoD ships. I dislike those.

| 23. Hot takes? Arc 3 was really good up until book 15. I love it.

| 24. Cold takes? [Takes that pretty much agree with everyone else] Starflight's crush on Sunny shouldn't have been a thing.

| 25. Hopes for a new winglet? One on Hailstorm would be nice.

| 26. Hopes for a new legends book? The Tree Wars! I'd love that.

| 27. Expectations for a new arc? Since book 16's title, The Hybrid Prince, was released today, I'm betting on it being Beryl's pov. I think Umber and Sora will be protag/deuteragonists, and I'm hoping for Siamang and Sky.

| 28. Character you hope gets expanded on/ viewed in the near future? Siamang! I don't know why I'm attached to a character who's only "appearance" is a mention in a prologue, but I am.

| 29. Character you hope is just. forgotten by the narrative? Never to be seen again? Meerkat. Do NOT put my Sunny in a hetero relationship, especially not with HIM.

| 30. Dynamics that 100% can't or won't happen in canon but you think would be fun? [Can be platonic or romantic] Kinkajou and Cricket, Carnelian and Turtle, Sky and Umber. The former two could either be platonic or romantic, but I would like to see romantic Skumber.

|31. First oc you made? When did you make them? Salamander. I was like, 8? She's a sea-rain hybrid and I still use her from time to time.

| 32. Have you made any fantribes/ fan continents? I had 16. The continent of Acheta with Storm, Blade, Lava, Web, Moth, Swift, Thorn, Lily, Cat, and WolfWings, (name lost to time) with Scale, Fang, and ShellWings, and Neko with Tiger, Lion, and CheetahWings. I was in elementary should when I made them and none are still in use, except for Storm, Blade, Lava, Moth, Swift, and ThornWings which aren't even WoF anymore and have been renamed.

| 33. Any role plays you've participated in? My favorite by far was the Copper Winglet. I played Stargazer, a traumatized secret mindreader, Lovely, a quiet, soft, Fluttershy-ish RainWing, and Prince Heatwave, only here because his little sister Sparrow is and he's her bodyguard. They played Beluga, the observant, naive SeaWing, Cactus, the antisocial, gay SandWing that hates everyone, and Coffee, the friendly, quiet, outwardly-optimistic-inwardly-pessimistic MudWing. The group ran around avoiding an assassination attempt against Sparrow, getting gladiatored, indoctrinated into cults, ect.,

| 34. Any specific Wings of Fire artist(s) you want to shout out? [Art, writing, ect.] I have a few in mind but I'm too scared of them.

| 35. Character you want to maul? [Affection] TURTLTURTETURTLE TURLE TURTLE TURTLE TURTLE

| 36. Character you want to maul? [Malicious] d e a t h b r i n g e r

| 37. Have YOU made any fan content? [Feel free to self promote] I'm writing a Carnelian-lives AU, it's not out yet but when it is I'll come back and link it here. It'll be gay I promise. I'm also doing a WoF rewrite, when I've done a bit more content for it I'll link it as well.

| 38. Something in the fandom you see too much? I find it annoying when people try to "fix" straight canon ships by genderbending one character. My catchphrase is "The word lesbian ain't gon fix em, pal."

| 39. Something in the fandom you see too little? I love rewrites! Like when folks do a "if I wrote WoF" type thing.

| 40. Free space! Ramble as much as you want! Rarepair WoF ships are SO underrated! Bonus points if they're poly. Some of my favs are Perilnami, Turtlewatcher, Moonelian, TURTLEWATCHERELIAN, Gloril, Blicketdew, Hazelynxfall, Turtlewatcherjou, Blicketdewdrakejou, and Skumber.

Wings of Fire Ask Game!

| 1. Favorite character? [Can be anyone, even that weirdo that appears for one page]

| 2. Least favorite character? [Same applies]

| 3. Favorite book? [Winglets, guides, graphic novel, ect.]

| 4. Least favorite book? [Same applies]

| 5. Favorite Arc?

| 6. Least favorite Arc?

| 7. Favorite protagonist group? [Dragonets of Prophecy, Jade Winglet, ect.]

| 8. Least favorite protagonist group? [Same applies]

| 9. Favorite antagonist?

| 10. Least favorite antagonist?

| 11. Favorite quote?

| 12. One thing you'd add to an arc/ book?

| 13. One thing you'd take from an arc/ book?

| 14. When did you start reading Wings of Fire?

| 15. Any design headcanons?

| 16. Any backstory headcanons?

| 17. General character headcanons?

| 18. Favorite tribe?

| 19. Least favorite tribe?

| 20. Favorite canon ship?

| 21. Least favorite canon ship?

| 22. Favorite non-canon ship?

| 22. Least favorite non-canon ship?

| 23. Hot takes?

| 24. Cold takes? [Takes that pretty much agree with everyone else]

| 25. Hopes for a new winglet?

| 26. Hopes for a new legends book?

| 27. Expectations for a new arc?

| 28. Character you hope gets expanded on/ viewed in the near future?

| 29. Character you hope is just. forgotten by the narrative? Never to be seen again?

| 30. Dynamics that 100% can't or won't happen in canon but you think would be fun? [Can be platonic or romantic]

|31. First oc you made? When did you make them?

| 32. Have you made any fantribes/ fan continents?

| 33. Any role plays you've participated in?

| 34. Any specific Wings of Fire artist(s) you want to shout out? [Art, writing, ect.]

| 35. Character you want to maul? [Affection]

| 36. Character you want to maul? [Malicious]

| 37. Have YOU made any fan content? [Feel free to self promote]

| 38. Something in the fandom you see too much?

| 39. Something in the fandom you see too little?

| 40. Free space! Ramble as much as you want!

[iamthemaestro]

you asked for weird questions and i will deliver >:)

rate all of your ocs (and william),on a 1 to 10 scale, 1 being "would've been the guy to musket blast marcus in the chest" and 10 being "regimental handjob besties"

I love that we are putting the guys in some sort of Hypothetical 18th Century Military Setting with with this, which is both a normal and likely thing for me to do

percy - depends on which point in his life you’re asking him at. though he exists in sort of a parallel universe he is Most Definitely British and spends a large portion of his life believing that imperialism is fine and good so if you catch him at that point it would probably be like. a 3. not because he has any personal problem with marcus but because he’s Doing His Duty To King And Country Above All. if you ask him much later on in life when he calms down quite a bit I would say maybe a 6, I’m not sure how much they would have in common interest-wise and he’s also just generally kind of high-strung but they’ve both got kind of the same timid 18th century white man vibe about them and they could bond over that

sydney - sydney has the unique ability to get along with just about anyone regardless of how much they have in common. prior to his relationship with percy he also had a tendency to sleep around with people of far more dubious character than marcus. I think he could probably be like a 7 at a friendship level because he can be a little much for people even if they can generally have quite a good relationship but could Potentially move up to a 10 in a certain sense if. you know. One Thing Led To Another in the continental army camp.

william - although he’s based on the Concept of a hypothetical person he is still an oc at a technical level so I can interpret him however I want. while I do think he believes he’s fighting on the right side I also think he’s comparatively more passionate about his Job than the Greater Cause of it all and could pretty easily overlook their differences in allegiance if confronted with marcus as a person. he’s also definitely less uptight than percy and is kind of perpetually in want of friends in the first place so I think they could get along quite well. I would probably rate him a 9 with the caveat that will is not great at maintaining relationships and he’s also generally uninterested in pursuing anything Beyond friendship with anyone so the number is more indicative of their Potential. but I definitely think if marcus himself were to make the effort to get to know him they could be Buddies <3

[navree]

Incorrect, the fact that Biden has dropped out and a candidate with history of supporting medicare for all and being more receptive to a ceasefire in the I/P conflict has made me go from "I cannot morally support the Democratic nominee" to "I am voting for the Democratic nominee despite the fact she isn't perfect in every respect." I'm really happy this played out. The Dems for the most part abandoned the old Obama platform and it feels like its possible an actual progressive agenda could come to pass in my lifetime.

Kamala 2024!

If you weren't going to vote Democratic in this election before Biden dropped out you're a dorkass loser who does not care about any of the issues you're yammering about here and also a fundamentally bad person, and I hope you get run over by a bus.

But you got one thing right in all of this gibberish, Kamala 2024.

[seraphidae]

light emeto warning

[zaggyzoo]

i have huge beef with my student's math teacher i hate her ksjdjdjdj

[3416]

kinda... the definition of a team sport you buffoon

[justjwab]

Top 10 posts customer service workers hate reading

very controversial opinion here, but sometimes customer service workers are the problem 😶

[raeathnos]

.

[cherrygirlfriend]

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ polaroids

pairing: stepbro!rafe x reader synopsis: stepbro!rafe blackmails reader into letting him use a vibrator on her warnings/tags: smut, STEPCEST, DUBCON, blackmail, MDNI! wc: 1.5K a/n; i’m not sure if this would be classified as dubcon or noncon but please read the synopsis before reading! originally posted 10/19/2024

stepsis masterlist ♡ rafe cameron masterlist ♡

"rafeee, can you get my charger? it's in the top drawer of my nightstand!" you called up from downstairs, making your stepbrother roll his eyes.

"fucking get it yourself!"

"the food's gonna burn!"

despite you being on the first floor, rafe could hear the whiney tone in your voice, and almost picture the way your lip bottom lip would be pulled in with that despicable pout that managed to get you everything from both his father and your mother, and so, begrudgingly he opened the door to your bedroom.

he rounded the corner of your four-poster bed, bending to open the top drawer of your nightstand, spotting your charger on top of a bunch of your other shit, and letting out a small scoff as he threw the charger onto the bed.

but when rafe spotted a small key peeking out from underneath some stupid fashion magazine, his interest was piqued; he didn't even need to pick it up to know what it went to. it was the bottom drawer of your nightstand, him having an identical nightstand in his own bedroom, and knowing the almost scandalous contents of his own bottom drawer made him curious as to what you could be hiding in yours.

he picked it up, observing it for a moment before slamming the top drawer closed, swiftly putting the key in the lock and twisting it open. when he pulled it open, at first it appeared as if nothing was in it, but he knew better. he pulled the false bottom off, throwing it onto the bed, and when rafe's eyes fell onto what was in your nightstand, he couldn't help the grin on his face.

some of the contents were pretty tame; a pile of notebooks that he assumed were your old diaries, some weed, and some adderall that he knew you used to pop like fucking skittles back when you were in high school and had a big test coming up.

but his eyes widened slightly when he spotted the bottle of lube and the small, pale pink bullet-shaped vibrator; sure, he knew you had your vices and you weren't an innocent girl like you led your mother to believe, but you'd always been kind of a prude; you'd never let any of your old boyfriends mark you up even back when you'd been in high school like most girls that were too horny to even realize, and even now, he saw your face flush whenever there was a fucking sex scene on television and you conveniently looked down at your phone for the duration of it.

what really struck his eye was the stack of polaroids he knew you'd taken with the instax mini camera ward had gotten you for christmas, and when he picked up the stack and turned them around, only the first image was enough to cause his jaw to slack slightly.

it was taken on a timer, and you were kneeling on your bed, your hand splayed on your neck, wearing a sheer pink lingerie dress, lacy pink panties covering your pussy while your nipples were covered by red, heart-shaped pasties.

he went through the polaroids, his eyes widening and his shorts tightening with each picture, shots of you wearing different lingerie sets, ones of you looking over your shoulder seductively while you were kneeling on the bed, showing off your ass in a pair of thongs, pictures taken where your tits were soaped up and just covered by your arms, ones-

"rafeee! did you find it?!"

he chuckled at your called-out question, so unaware of the things he had found, putting the polaroids back in the bottom drawer, "yeah yeah!" he called back out, but as he was starting to put the false bottom back in, he got an idea.

and so, before he put the false bottom back in the drawer, he slipped the bullet-shaped vibrator into his pocket.

you could feel your heartbeat in your throat; you had no idea where it could've gone, having used it literally that morning. even though you remembered putting it in its usual spot in the bottom drawer of your nightstand, it was nowhere to be seen.

you thought that maybe you'd accidentally left it on your bed; your bedding, now on the floor. maybe it was on your top drawer instead, the contents dumped on the floor next to it. now you were going through your bookshelf, your teeth biting into your bottom lip so harshly you could taste blood in your mouth.

it wasn't only that you didn't want anyone to find it; it was also that you were so fucking sexually frustrated. you'd already gotten yourself off in the morning, but still, everything even slightly sexual had caused you to press your legs firmly together to seek some relief.

you nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard someone clear their throat, and when you turned to look at who it was, you were faced with your stepbrother, a smug smile on his face.

"looking for something?" rafe said, holding up the pink device you'd been looking for, your eyes widening when they landed on it

"did you go through my stuff you psycho?!" you stomped to him, rafe holding the vibrator over his head and out of your reach when you tried grabbing it. "give it to me!"

"i don't think that's how you speak to someone when you want something from them." rafe tsked, his jaw clenched as he pressed you against your bedroom wall, his hand on your chin, making you look up at him, "see, you're supposed to ask nicely. didn't mommy teach you that?"

"what do you want, rafe?"

"you know, when i found this little thing," rafe tapped the small vibrator against your cheek, "i found some really interesting pictures." he grinned, your eyes widening, your heartbeat picking up, immediately knowing the pictures he was talking about.

rafe turned on the vibrator, letting it travel down your chest, until coming in contact with your clothed nipple, slowly, involuntarily pebbling under the vibrations, your stepbrother's breath hot on your face, an obvious tent in his sweatpants. "it would be such a shame if your mom saw them, you know?"

"they don't show my face..." you said with a small sniffle, your eyes starting to sting with tears, meanwhile you felt your cunt starting to get slick with arousal from the stimulation to your nipple.

"aw, she might be stupid but she's not an idiot. you really think she won't recognize that pretty little body? all those pretty marks and dots on your body. are you willing to risk it?"

rafe's hand started traveling lower, the vibrations trailing down your ribs and abdomen, causing you to tense up your muscles as you spoke, your teeth gritting together, "what do you want?"

"to own you."

rafe had you pinned down on your bed, your hands gripping onto your already crumpled sheets; your lacy panties clinging to your pussy, thoroughly soaked in your arousal, and you knew they were beyond saving.

your flimsy top had been pushed up to reveal your breasts, and he'd been using the vibrator on your poor pussy for an hour now, and somehow it had been the most excruciating yet exhilarating hour of your life.

"i can't..." you whined as rafe brought the vibrator to your clit, and even though it was covered by the soaking fabric, it felt as if there wasn't any barrier at all, the stimulation bringing you closer and closer to your third orgasm. "'s too much... feels too good…"

rafe let out a cruel laugh at that, only bringing up the volume of the vibrator, pressing it even firmly against your clit, causing you to let out a yelp that turned into a moan, roughly grabbing at the fat of your breast as he brought his face closer to your face.

"you're gonna take it." he smiled, pressing a small kiss between your breasts, before standing up. "keep it in place." rafe commanded, and you brought your hand to weakly hold the vibrator at your clit while he walked around your room, in search for something.

"what... what are you doing?" you mumbled, your mind hazy from the pleasure coursing through your body, your eyes widening when rafe turned around, holding your polaroid camera. "r-rafe?"

rafe walked towards the bed, turning on the camera as he kneeled over you, swatting your hand away from the vibrator, replacing it with his own. "this is gonna be your best picture yet."

before you could protest, you were blinded by the flash, trying to use your arm to cover up your eyes, the picture slowly coming out of the camera, and rafe set it down next to you on the bed while it slowly changed from black to a picture of your body, showing your bared tits and the soaked panties that had molded to the shape of your pussy, rafe's large, ringed hand holding the vibrator against your clit.

rafe turned off the vibrator, throwing it onto the bed, grabbing the photo, and shoving it into the pocket of his sweatpants, before leaning closer to your ear.

"i own you." he whispered roughly, tapping your cheek before standing up and leaving your room.

[dollivication]

ᥫ᭡. IF THEY GOT A HOLD OF YOUR PANTIES ᥫ᭡.

ᢉ𐭩 ft. hwang in-ho/player 001/the frontman, seong gi-hun/player 456, thanos/choi su-bong/player 230 , kang dae-ho/player 388, nam-gyu/player 124

ᢉ𐭩 cw: nsfw, perviness, panty-sniffing, masturbation, nam-gyu cussing you out/insulting you LOL??, fairly icky stuff, dirty fantasies, fem!reader. gooner activities. mdni

ᢉ𐭩 a/n: doesn’t take place in the games but… if you want to interpret this that way you can LOLS. sorry if it seems rushed i was very eager to take this out...

HWANG IN-HO/PLAYER 001/FRONTMAN

-honestly? he’d probably find it very endearing how you still maintain your style underneath all your clothes.

-he uses this as a better insight to your tastes. mentally noting down your preferences as he properly looks at the pair in his hands, turning the article of clothing around with a watchful gaze and rubbing it between his fingertips to feel the texture.

-lacy or simple? noted. silky or cotton? he’ll keep it in mind. dark or pastel? he’ll make sure to keep an eye out for something similar. he wants to know every aspect of your character, and this serves as the perfect chance. “How cute..” he’d muse.

-doesn’t judge whatsoever. after all, they belong to you, that by itself is a blessing. that being said, he doesn’t exactly have a need for them as he much prefers the thing that wears them. he prides himself on his self-control. you could not catch him acting like a hormonal teen.

-at the most, he’ll give them a tiny sniff, brushing his lips against them and flick the tip of his tongue out just to give himself the daily dose of your smell and taste, smiling to himself as he intakes the scent and flavor. but don’t worry, he puts them right back where he found them without ever telling a soul. <3

SEONG GI-HUN/PLAYER 456 (S1)

-his mind goes blank. does this make him a perv? well, probably. does he really care? somewhat. he wouldn’t have much of an explanation if someone walked in on him at that moment.

-just stares as he ponders what to do with them. he could put them down, pretend it never happened—it’s not like he had any bad intentions.. but an opportunity like this doesn’t come around often. and it’s been years since he had anything to properly give him a release.

-kind of has an inner battle over whether or not it’s worth actually being a dirty old man for relief or being a respectable one and giving up on this opening. yet of course.. he’s only human. and he just wants you so much :( !!

-pretty much uses your panties to muffle himself, sniffing at it like a dog whilst rutting slowly into a pillow. of course, the thin undergarments could only do so much in the face of his needy little sounds <3

-panting heavily, letting out grunts as he squeezes his eyes shut. “Please.. Please..” his face almost looks pained with a slack jaw and furrowed brow, hands grasping at the pillow beneath him to try and ground himself. (it doesn’t work, because he quickly begins to pick up the pace.)

-gasps when he finally climaxes, burying his face even deeper into your underwear to the point he might suffocate himself all while shooting out his seed over his pillow. feels pretty disgusted in himself and guilty after he comes down from his high, pouting a little at the mess he made. still, he can’t deny how blissful it felt. it was almost like you were right there with him…. </3

-keeps your panties. yeah, hopefully those weren’t your favorite pair—because they’re his now. he’ll return them at some point, but until then, if you ever exasperatedly tell him about the loss, gi-hun will keep his mouth shut and play the oblivious. >.<

THANOS/CHOI SU-BONG/PLAYER 230

-he looks like an immature highschool boy with the way he marvels at your panties, as if he hasn’t been in previous sexual flings and one-night stands where he has most likely witnessed all kinds of undergarments. and yanked them off…

-i guess the only reason why he’s so fascinated is because they’re yours. no way in hell you’d ever willingly give a pair to him—did you really think he wasn’t going to savor every moment of this? this is heaven served on a silver platter.

-it starts off as a joke for thanos, stretching the elastic waistband in various degrees and angles while giggling. maybe even uses them as a slingshot. he never imagined that he’d find himself in a position like this, you know? this is the type of shit you’d see in crappy rom-coms.

-all that runs through his head is something along the lines of “Hell yeah.. Nice.” UNTIL it finally occurs to him that, holy shit. he’s actually got your panties in his possession. the way he looks around to see if anyone’s by (despite obviously being alone) is damn well near cartoonish.

-wastes no time in lowering his pants to his knees, biting his bottom lip as he wraps a hand around his cock. he’s hard almost instantly, the thrill of doing something so filthy behind your back making his dick twitch and expel tiny drops of pre-cum.

-“Oh, fuuuck.. Mhm..” his words are shaky and border on a breathy chuckle, pumping his dick while raising his other hand to his face. takes sporadic sniffs of your panties, bunching them up in his palm whenever a particular stroke really made his hips buck.

-His head will roll back, his motions lazy and unhurried while he kicks and spreads his legs out. his voice is husky as he grunts out incoherent curses, gradually speeding his hand up before he eventually shoots out warm ropes of cum, letting the strands coat his fingers in short spurts.

-“Mannn...” he’d grumble, quite miffed by the fact that he was gonna have to clean up when the flow stopped. but he immediately cheers up, seeing that your panties were free from the spill. that meant he wasn’t gonna have to discard them just yet!!

-also keeps your panties and acts like he doesn’t know anything if they’re ever brought up in a conversation. he thinks of them as his personal lucky charm, which of course he won’t give up until he actually has to. but at that point, he’ll just try to get his hands on another pair and so on.. silly little addict :3c

KANG DAE-HO/PLAYER 388

-having been the youngest brother of 4 sisters, its safe to assume that he’s probably had similar occasions whilst doing laundry. bras, panties, he’s most likely handled them at least once throughout his life while being surrounded by women.

-thats not to say he doesn’t still get a little bit shy, even as an adult. its mostly out of respect more than it is embarrassment. he understands that underwear is meant to cover women’s privates, he’s been taught not to view them in a sexual light. but that’s because it came to family. there, underwear was just that—articles of clothing to literally wear under.

-this is a much different situation: being accidentally exposed to the type of undergarments his crush puts on. with the way he fumbles with your panties, you’d think they were sizzling hot and causing burns. poor dae-ho doesn’t know what to do !!

-especially not when his pants feel a little tighter than usual. his free hand will shoot down, try to adjust the tent forming with a tiny frown on his face. “Don’t be gross, Dae-ho. Cmon..” he’ll scold himself in a hushed whisper, but his body clearly having other plans.

-he’ll start to panic, desperately trying to make his boner die down. he swears he isn’t a perv, honest! he just can’t help but think about how good you’d look teasing him in them, rubbing your clothed pussy against his dick…!

-yeah, he’s got it bad. the imagery would make his dick stir that much more, practically throbbing as he hesitantly sneaks a hand beneath the waistband of his pants. “Shit, I’m so sorry—” he’d gasp out an apology followed by your name, his warm palm finally coming in contact with his aching cock, wrapping his fingers around the base.

-dae-ho’s eyes would flutter, his adam’s apple bobbing as he’d begin to jerk off at a moderate pace to the thought of you, wanton moans falling from his parted lips. he would swipe the pad of his thumb over his leaking tip, the motion causing a high pitched mixture of a whine and grunt. “Oh, god..”

-can’t help but to give your panties little licks, the taste of your cunt making his hips buck into his hand. the overwhelming feeling of his orgasm creeping up accompanied by a tugging guilt began to form tears in his eyes, nothing ever actually escaping yet threatening to.

-his back arches when he cums, thighs trembling as his digits tighten around your underwear, holding the pair close to his chest as he groans. “Yes! Oh, please, I love you—” his voice would tremble, practically breaking off into a small cry. his warm cum coats his hand, the latter continuing to give weak strokes until he’s unable to produce anymore.

-the moment he regains his composure and he realizes what he just did, he’ll be so disappointed in himself :( washes his hands with soap like 4 times, as if it’ll get rid of his dirty little misdeed. gosh he feels so pathetic…

-tells NO ONE about the endeavor, and leaves your panties where he found them. he’s going to have a lot to think about. (◞‸◟)

NAM-GYU/PLAYER 124

-one word: shameless.

-for some reason, nam-gyu just won’t fess up to the fact that he probably does genuinely have a crush on you. that’s absurd, he doesn’t do that kiddie shit! so, instead he’s making it his duty to find every possible way of throwing you off. because it’s funny. and what better chance does he have than right now?

-so what if this makes him a creep? hopefully you’ll take it as a sign to stay the hell away from him after this. (he says, anyway. a part of him actually hopes you’ll enjoy what he’s about to do and come back for more… he’s just,, strange like that.) he doesn’t think twice about taking his cock out from his boxers.

-the only one to actually USE your panties to jerk himself off. he tells himself he’s doing it out of spite, furiously pumping his veiny dick as he bites into the hem of his shirt, exposing his stomach that jumped with the contrasting nip of the cool air on his warm skin.

-“Stupid bitch. See how you fucking like it,” he’d growl, pausing a few times to frustratedly tuck strands of hair behind his ear whenever they’d get in his face. has no problem being loud, letting out groan after groan with every intention of getting caught. walk in on him, why don’t you? see how pissed off you make him feel. how fucking pent up he is for you.

-“Gonna cum all over your face,” nam-gyu’s threats would flow with no particular party on the receiving end. only the thought of you on your knees tending to him. doesn’t care that he probably looks like a lunatic while guiltlessly talking dirty, his balls drawing up at his own filthy-natured words.

-saliva would begin to seep into his shirt’s hem, his pace unrelenting as he fists his cock into your underwear, his other hand curling and uncurling whenever his pleasure spiked. he’ll swallow thickly as the knot in his lower stomach begins to form, squirming slightly in his spot in a visible attempt to chase his climax.

-he’ll align the inner crotch area perfectly along his length, his head tossing back as he finally lets go, your panties easily catching the globs of semen that shot out. “Fuck yeah.. Take it, take my cum.” he’d grunt, eyebrows furrowing while sinking his teeth deeper into his top.

-breathes heavily upon seeing the stick and foggy white liquid cause an evident dark patch on your panties. with a self-accomplished smirk, he’ll tuck himself back into his pants, releasing his shirt from his mouth as he pinches the waistband of your cum-soaked panties with the tip of his index and thumb, keeping it a distance away from him. he has just the thing for you.

-nam-gyu will actively seek you out, bringing along the end result of his.. work. once he finds you, he’ll toss it right at you, not caring if you were in catching-range or not.

-“Just a little something from me to you. Enjoy the gift, yeah?” he’d give you one of his sly smiles, eyes twinkling with the typical hint of mischief before walking off without even waiting for a reply or reaction.

-well, at least you got your panties back, right? <3

[baepsays]

BOUND TO BE ⟢⸻ Ryomen Sukuna

cw ──★ NSFW, MDNI, husband & wife dynamics, established relationship, fem reader, descriptions of fem anatomy, m! masturbation, spanking, spit stuff (i am fully down this rabbit hole), cum play, breeding, headlock, arguments, rough sex, manhandling, i cannot remember anything else.

a/n: when i am a chill guy and i try to divorce my husband for fun.

Trying to divorce your husband, Sukuna, is hard.

Because it does not matter how much effort you put into packing up your most essential belongings, making arrangements to stay with a friend for a while, and getting a lawyer to serve him; it all sums up to be null.

Sure he gets served with the papers, but he's sending you a picture of the documents all shredded up by his German shepherds. And a text that follows, 

“You know I hate reading.” 11.45 AM, Read.

But he definitely read those papers. He hated them more than any piece of paper he has ever read. And he hates reading to begin with! So he did the most convenient thing and simply destroyed them. 

Hence, when you call to yell at him, it changes nothing. And even if you still have a set of the same documents, or if you warn him that you will send those papers again, and how he better keep them intact this time—all that he hears is your pretty voice yelling at him, but he has no idea exactly what you were even saying. But damn did you sound great just burning his ears. Cursing him out for everything and anything you can, calling him an asshole, and hanging up on him with a ‘fuck you’. 

He knows that the blows are not going to get any softer if you knew what he was doing right now.

It is not even that he is thinking about anything particularly lewd when he gets bricked up in the middle of the day, it is just the kind of effect you have on him. He is sitting in his office chair, hard as a rock in his pants, and telling his secretary to cancel the board meeting. So he can jerk off while listening to the audio recording of the call he just had with you. 

Ryomen Sukuna has no shame in whipping his cock out of his slacks, leaning back in his very expensive chair, in his very spacious office; spitting on his cock, and jerking it off, with nothing and no one, but his wife on his mind. The recording of the call he just had with you playing on repeat in the background, and you yelling and shouting at him all angry just makes his wrists pick up the pace.

His mind wanders off to daydreaming about how he would bend you over his desk, and slap your ass and cunt until it's red and stinging. How he would only rub his cock in your juices and tease your hole with a little taste and pull away, until you stop whining and groaning and go straight to yelling at him, like you did on the phone. How he would like to put you in a headlock, and have you drool on the gathered up sleeves tightly bunched up on his biceps, and leave a patch on it. 

How your eyes would gloss over and roll back in the inside of your head, and all the yelling and shouting would get stuck in the back of your throat because how good it’d feel to have his warm body weigh you down on the cool surface of his desk. As he thrusts into your cunt mercilessly, until your cervix is bruised, and your walls remember the shape of him. How he will have your cunt clenching to keep all of his seed safe inside your womb, along with his cock, tightening around it and making it difficult for him to pull out. Just how he would clean you up and pick you up in his arms, and drive back home, to fuck you on you two’s bed, until you are well bred and full of noting but his cum.

The squelching sound of his precum and spit—helping him slide his hands around his cock faster and with ease—could never compare to your cunt making sweet sweet noises when he is thrusting in her, the wetness cannot be even compared, and the way your walls hug him tight, warm, and snug; cannot be replaced with anything else.

So how can he just let his wife leave him?

He is a firm man.

He has always been so, with firm beliefs and convictions. And it is part of the reason why you fell in love with him, to even stay married to him for over a decade. But everything has its limits, and you are only a human. Being able to hold your ground may be one thing, but being inflexible to the point that you push away your own wife, is another.

Unfortunately Sukuna did not know the answer to perfect equilibrium. 

And hence, he is in this situation. Trying to give space to his wife, for once, when she actually needs it. Instead of pushing himself into her space when she didn't need him to do that, and withdraw when she tried to reach out to him. For once Sukuna has done the right thing.

Until he did not.

Driving down to your friend's place, to take you back with him, because of course he knows where you are despite your best efforts. You even went out of your way to not go back to your parents’ place this time so he would not be able to trace you down as quickly as he always does. But he has his ways of getting a hold of you, he always has. 

When the bell to your friend’s place rang at twelve AM, you simply thought maybe it was her boyfriend visiting. He has always had odd timing, so you got up to open the door, instead of your friend who was almost halfway asleep on the couch. 

“Are you done throwing a tantrum?” The last person you expected to be standing behind the door when you opened it, with no guard up or whatsoever, was standing in front of you. Clad in a three piece suit, messy pink hair, newly formed bags under his eyes, and signature frown—it was your husband.

“WHY ARE YOU HERE?”

“Is the yelling necessary?” 

“YES!”

His eyebrows furrowed further at the state of you. You looked like shit, in terms of that you didn't look taken care of. And that is simply unacceptable. 

“Why did you open the door so easily? Did you even check before opening it? What if it was some creep huh?” His nagging made something flutter in your stomach. Oh, how much you have missed him.

“Yeah, like you are any better.” But this was no time to show him that.

He simply sighed at you, folding your hands on your chest, looking like you had no intention of hearing him out or planning on packing your bags to leave with him. 

“Alright. You made me do this.”

With effortless movements on his part, and some flailing around like a fish on your part, you were on his shoulders; hanging like a sack of potatoes. To be then driven back to the house you built into a home with your now soon to be ex-husband. It did not even make him huff out some air, to walk to his car with you throwing punches on his back. With one large hand on your back, and another around both of your legs—so you do not kick him and tumble off his shoulder in the process.

He sat you down in his passenger seat, while mumbling something about how he would come and pick up your bags tomorrow. He did not even flinch or get angry at you for yelling crude profanities at him, or pulling on his hair, before he locked you in the car. So he could easily get to the driver’s seat, without you trying to escape, like you ‘ve done before. You just wanted him to get pissed enough at you, so you can make an excuse out of that and make him leave you alone. 

Or so you wanted to make yourself assume.

Because trying is all you can really do. Throw some fits and tantrums, try to get him to sign those papers—but you know he would never. His apathy and disdain for communication aside, he is a great husband, and he loves you maybe more than what you can fathom.

And at this point you're so far beyond the point of return, that you don't even think you can do without him, nor can he do without you. He looked paler, and thinner, and the crease between his eyebrows looked worse. But you also looked horrible, with the shine in your hair gone, skin looking dull, visible marks of tears on your cheeks—you missed him dearly, and waited for him earnestly. 

What even the fuck is ‘giving space,’ and how did Sukuna, your husband, of all people got to know about it? Maybe you would have returned home much earlier, if he simply chased after you like he always did. So you tried to stretch your little bubble, to see how long before it really pops, because if the pressure of the air is not enough, what is even enough? 

Saying you hate him? That you cannot stand him? Or that you want a divorce? If only he figured out the easy way around your wrath, maybe then he would not have the unnecessary lawyer’s fees charged on his card that he gave you. 

“You're done with this now?”

It took you a few minutes to answer his question, you just silently sat there with your face planted on the window, as you continued to stare at his reflection—how one of his hands remained on the steering wheel, while the other you could feel rubbing up and down on your bare thighs, barely covered by your shorts. He just knows exactly  how to shut you up. And this is how it goes, you get defeated and you refuse to look at him, until he has you back home, on your bed, and you cannot help but look at him, just him.

“Yes.” The mumble was loud enough to get to his ears, which made the corners of his lips twitch. 

“Good girl.” 

“Shut up, or else I'll actually divorce you!”

He laughed to himself, but he felt the threat deep in his bones. Oh to be threatening Ryomen Sukuna and have him in the palm of your hands.

“Sure. Let's just go home. But you are still getting punished.” His voice sounded at ease, to finally have you with him, but nothing about what he said was going to be easy for you. Sure it sounded playful, or endearing, and filled with love—because it was, but that did not mean the threat was not present. 

But you would have it no other way. Just him talking to you with sweet threats, and mean punishments. Sure it is going to be hard when he will have you crying tears of pleasure and pain, bent over his lap—but you know you are going to enjoy every second of it.

“I know Kuna.”

TO FIND MORE OF MY WORKS CLICK HERE.

a/n: divider by @/omi-resources.

have fun :3c this opened new doors for me. you will be seeing more of him from me >:)

I'd provoke him sm just so he'd rock my shit

tag list: @cheralith @madamechrissy @gojosperms @gojao @cuntphoric @cuntyji @cuntphoric @aishi-toru @rriwyu @exquisink @lover-lyn @buckysm @wwwritererm @indiewritesxoxo @soupicidesquad @shouiow @user25384959574 @dxmnsaera @kazupop @slayzzz @undercvrfan444 @miizuzu @getoistic @infinitatis-ink @theorphicangel @gojosconsort @ricecake-mochi @veahhcarothers

[missdynamighttt]

sigh... bf! katsuki wasn’t the type to let anyone get away with slacking off, especially not you.

he’d been noticing the way you’d been procrastinating, pushing everything to the last minute. he didn’t mind when you were distracted sometimes, but when it became a pattern? hell no.

one afternoon, you were sprawled out on the couch, phone in hand, scrolling mindlessly through social media when katsuki marched in, clearly fed up.

"oi," he growled, standing over you with his arms crossed. "the hell do you think you’re doing?"

you looked up, giving him a tired smile. "just taking a break, katsuki. i’ll get back to it soon."

"bullshit," he snapped, his fiery eyes locking onto you. "you've been taking breaks all day. what’s your excuse this time?"

you sighed, sitting up. "i don’t know. i.. can’t get into it. my brain’s just all over the place."

he walked over to the couch, sitting down beside you and giving you a quick, pointed look. "you’ve been wasting time for hours. you know that, right? if you keep this shit up, you’re gonna be behind."

you shook your head, feeling a little guilty. "i know... i just don’t feel.. motivated."

katsuki’s gaze softened, but there was still an edge to it. "i get it, okay? you’re tired, you’re stressed, but you can’t let this shit slide. you’re smarter than this. you know that."

he leaned in a bit, his voice growing lower, almost like a challenge. "so you’re gonna sit here and waste your potential? huh? is that what you’re gonna do?"

you paused, your mind racing. he was right. you were better than procrastinating, better than letting your goals slip away. katsuki knew how to light a fire under your ass, even without trying too hard.

"fine," you muttered, getting up from the couch. "i’ll study."

"good," he huffed, giving your shoulder a quick shove. "get your shit together. and when you’re done, i’ll reward you. but don’t think you’re getting anything until i see results."

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile creeping onto your face. katsuki may have been rough around the edges, but he always knew how to push you in the right direction.

you hummed, flipping through your notes. "what's the reward, anyway?"

his grin was downright evil. "wouldn't you like to know?"

the next few hours were grueling. every time you lost focus, you’d catch katsuki’s gaze burning into you, silently daring you to slack off. and every time you did, his voice would cut through like a knife.

"oi. focus."

"don't even think about picking up your phone."

"you got five more pages. don’t quit now."

it was relentless, but it worked. you were powering through more than you had in the past few days combined. and admittedly? it was kind of hot seeing how serious he was about you succeeding.

eventually, you slammed your textbook shut, sighing dramatically.

"alright. i'm done. can i get my reward now?"

katsuki didn’t move from his spot on the couch, just raised a brow.

"let me see."

"what—"

"your notes. show me."

groaning, you brought your notebook over, dropping it into his lap. he actually flipped through it, scanning your work like he was grading you. "hmph. not bad. you finally use that brain of yours, huh?"

you pouted. "okay, great. can i get my reward now?"

"tch. desperate, huh?"

"you promised—"

"and i'm a man of my word, ain't i?"

the next thing you knew, he was on you. soon enough, his hands were on your hips, yanking you down onto his lap. his mouth was on yours, hot and hungry, like he’d been waiting for you to finish just so he could devour you.

"katsuki—" you gasped between kisses, "i thought the reward was gonna be like... dinner or something."

"dinner’s later," he growled, his teeth scraping against your jaw. "this is your reward."

and ohhh, he rewarded you alright. every kiss, every touch was dripping with pride — like he was genuinely turned on by you grinding through your study session.

"so fuckin’ proud of you, baby," he murmured against your skin as his hands slid under your shirt, "knew you could do it. my smart fuckin’ girl."

it caught you off guard — the way your eyes started to sting when he called you that.

you hadn’t even realized how much you needed to hear that. how much you’d been doubting yourself lately — feeling like you weren’t doing enough, like you were somehow always behind. and here katsuki was, holding you close, praising you like you’d just moved mountains.

"hey…" his voice softened, your shaky breath giving you away. "shit, baby, what’s wrong?"

"n-nothing," you sniffled, wiping at your face. "sh-shit, i’m sorry... i’m just... being stupid. i didn’t mean to be... a turn-off or anything, holy fuck..."

"nah, nah, don’t gimme that," he said, tipping your chin up so you couldn’t hide. "what is it? c’mon, sweets.. talk to me."

"i just..." you let out a weak laugh, embarrassed at how emotional you’d gotten. "you called me your smart girl, and i... i don’t know. i guess i haven’t really... felt like one, lately."

his brows furrowed, like the thought alone pissed him off. "that’s bullshit. you're smart as hell — way smarter than you give yourself credit for. don’t care how long it takes you to get something done; you always pull through. always."

his thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "and i’m proud of you. so fuckin’ proud, y’hear me?"

that did it. you broke down, melting into his chest as he held you close, murmuring soft reassurances into your hair.

"s’okay," he whispered, rocking you gently. "gotcha. always gotcha, baby."

and he did. katsuki wasn’t the type to throw around words like that easily — so when he said he was proud of you?

he meant it.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ been procastinating a lot lately and im getting there(?) hope you guys arent like me, procrastinating is a bitch😵‍💫 hope you guys enjoyed and if no one told you this yet, im really really proud of you💜💜

[nereidprinc3ss]

stakeout

in which spencer reid and flirty!reader are stuck in a car together with nothing to entertain themselves but each other.

fluff! warnings/tags: fem!reader, they have little crushes on each other, some of you will not like reader, but spencer does, it’s all banter, lots of teasing, playful insults, jokes about handcuffing so suggestive jokes i guess, so cheesy, reader enjoys flustering spencer, written with earlier seasons spencer in mind a/n: bandages!reader and spencer are so back!! i missed them!! this is SOOO cheesy! cheesiest thing ever! thank you to the person who requested this!!! thank you for giving me an excuse to just write cheesy banter!!! yyyayyyy!!! ilysm

“I am so fucking bored. Am I allowed to say that?”

It’s exactly the kind of thing Spencer should expect you to say, and maybe when you first joined the team it would’ve made him squirm, but now as you drop your binoculars and give him a look, bored, head tilted to shoulder, like you're waiting to be entertained, he only shrugs. Your insouciance is one of the things you know he’s come to love about you and would probably never admit. 

“Who’s going to stop you?”

You bump his shin with the toe of your leather boot and he glances down only momentarily before he’s raising his own binoculars to pick up your slack. 

“You. You don’t like when I swear.”

Spencer makes a face that you can only see the bottom half of. His voice is strained with focus. “Where did you get that idea?”

“Where? The faces you always make. You’re a judgy little bitch, you know that?”

“I don’t judge you for swearing. Frequent and creative use of profanity is correlated with a broader vernacular and greater social intelligence.”

“Oh, shut up. Yes you do.”

“You’re punchy tonight.” The leather of your seat squeaks underneath you as you slide down and groan, loudly. Spencer grimaces as he reaches over, gently swatting your shoulder with the back of his hand. “You should try to be louder. They might not have heard you.”

Your jaw drops indignantly. “Wh—the house is like 300 feet away! They’ve been blasting music all night. And not even, like… good music.”

“What, you don’t like death metal?”

You give him a side-eye. “Do you?”

He shrugs, giving up on the binoculars. A strand of hair has fallen over his face. You fight the urge to fix it. “I don’t know. It’s loud. And grating. And incessant. It begs for attention shamelessly and tactlessly. I’m kind of used to it.”

“Watch your mouth,” you scoff. “It would be a shame if I had to ruin that gorgeous face of yours.”

Spencer smirks and shakes his head disapprovingly, cheeks dusted scarlet. 

“You just can’t help yourself.”

“Who could around you, baby? Look at the bone structure on you. And those sweater vests. Can’t believe you walk around like that. It’s distracting.”

“Baby?” He grumbles, like he’s utterly displeased, but the way he’s losing a fight against that smile tells you otherwise. You lean your head against the headrest, boring your eyes right into his profile and giving him the opportunity for some searing eye contact, should he take you up on it. But for some reason, he can’t seem to look away from the steering wheel. 

“Do you choose them just for me?”

There are those pretty eyes—on you for maybe a second before they’re darting away. He fiddles with the binoculars in his lap. It’s adorable how much he doesn’t know what to do with himself when you get like this. Morgan once likened it to a cat batting around a mouse. Don’t play with your food, he told you. Take a little pity on the poor kid. He doesn’t know what he’s up against. 

But Morgan’s not here right now. 

“What?”

“Do you pick out your little sweater vests because you know I like them? ’Cause, you know—I also like when you just do a button up. The blazers, too. Those are sexy. But if I had to pick, it would be the sweater vests.”

You reach over to straighten out the grey one he’s got on right now, and he entertains your fiddling for only a moment before catching your wrist in a considerate hold. 

“Alright, can you—can you behave? Please?” He laughs. Unfortunately it makes your stomach flip. 

“Probably not. You could try cuffing me.”

“Or,” he begins, carefully pressing your own hand to your chest, “we could keep our hands to ourselves.”

You pout. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Where’s the fun in getting yelled at if Hotch has to come and unlock you because I dropped the key between the seats?”

“So it’s a maybe on the handcuffs?”

He falls back, eyes fluttering shut like you’re exhausting him, and offering you the perfect vantage point to admire that jawline of his. 

“Alright. Five minutes.”

There’s no way he’s actually taking you up on this. 

“Five minutes of what?”

His head rolls over his shoulder and he gives you a look of his own. “Of silence. I’m begging.”

Oh. 

Well then. 

You settle back in your seat and swing your own binoculars around by the strap. 

“You know, you’d be bored to tears right now if it weren’t for me.”

“I count myself lucky every day,” he says. And despite the sarcastic tone, you actually believe him. 

A moment passes, during which the bubbly tension of your shared repartee fades into a sincere comfortable silence. 

You kick your feet up on the dash. “How about I cuff you? Is that more your speed?”

You’re already grinning when he answers, not bothering to take your eyes off the house outside. 

“You are… astoundingly inappropriate.”

“Well a girl has to try, Spencer.”

[solxamber]

One Date and a Lifetime: Leona Kingscholar x reader

You have chosen Leona! ; aka the times Leona-i-don't-care Kingscholar puts in effort for you;

1k masterlist ; Prologue

You never thought Leona would actually take this date seriously. Honestly, when you first call him, you half expect him to suggest, "Let's just take a nap or something." Instead, his voice is low and smug, almost purring through the phone.

“Sure. I’ll pick you up later. Be ready.”

And just like that, he hangs up before you can ask for specifics. Typical. You're prepared for some half-hearted effort involving him dragging you to a secluded spot to nap under the stars or something like that. But then, a knock sounds at the door of Ramshackle, and there stands Ruggie with a bouquet.

“These are from Leona,” Ruggie says with a grin that’s two parts mischievous, one part disbelief. “He told me to get the ‘good ones,’ whatever that means. I charged him double, by the way.”

You take the flowers, cheeks warming, trying not to feel too charmed by the fact that the laziest lion you know thought to send you flowers. “Compensation good?”

“Let’s just say I’m eating like royalty tonight.” Ruggie winks before scampering off, probably with plans to milk his housewarden’s generosity for the rest of the week.

When Leona finally arrives at your doorstep, you're stunned into silence. He’s dressed to kill, sharp black slacks, a sleek button-up rolled at the sleeves. Effortlessly regal.

"You..." You blink. "You’re somehow even prettier than usual. How is that fair?"

He grumbles, averting his gaze, but you catch the way his chest puffs out just a little. “Tch. Cut it out.”

“Admit it—you love the compliments,” you tease, looping your arm around his as you step outside.

Leona scoffs but doesn’t pull away. “You gonna keep flattering me all night, or are we leaving?”

And so begins the wildest date you could have imagined: Leona, the notorious nap king, escorting you to a local festival, of all things.

You glance up at him as you stroll through the brightly lit stalls. “I thought you hated crowds.”

“I do,” he replies, but then adds in a gruff mutter, “It’s fine if it’s with you.”

Your heart skips a beat. You're lucky he looks so good because you might’ve fainted on the spot otherwise.

At one of the stalls, you spot a mountain of cotton candy, pastel pink and blue fluff that looks like it’ll melt if you so much as breathe on it. You buy a stick and tear off a piece, holding it up to Leona.

“C’mon, try it.”

He eyes the sugary fluff suspiciously. “That’s just sugar and air.”

“Exactly. Now open up.”

With an exaggerated groan, Leona leans down, and you pop the piece into his mouth. His brow furrows as he chews. “Way too sweet.”

But the next time you hold up another piece, he still eats it, grumbling under his breath about “sugar addicts.” You don’t miss the tiny, fond smile that sneaks onto his face, though.

As you continue through the festival, you spot a prize stall lined with plushies, including a little dragon that immediately catches your eye.

“I need that,” you say, determination sparking.

You try... and fail. Repeatedly. Leona watches your attempts with a smirk, arms crossed like he’s enjoying the show.

When you lose for the fifth time, he sighs dramatically. “Move.”

He steps up to the game and, with one smooth flick of his wrist, nails it on the first try. But instead of the dragon plush, he gives the attendant a lazy grin. “The lion.”

When he hands you the lion plush, you stare at it, confused. “What happened to the dragon?”

“Lions are better,” Leona says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “No debate.”

Despite yourself, you can’t help but smile. It’s ridiculous, but it’s him, and somehow that makes it perfect.

Later, when he takes you to an absurdly expensive restaurant, you raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure about this? It’s... kind of pricey.”

He gives you a flat look. “Order whatever you want. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

So, naturally, you do. And the food is fantastic. Leona leans back in his chair, watching you with a lazy smirk as you happily dig into your meal.

When the date winds down and Leona walks you back to Ramshackle, the night air is cool, and you instinctively rub your arms. Without a word, Leona shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.

You clutch onto his arm with a grin, snuggling into the warmth. “Thanks, Leona.”

He shakes his head, amused. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“Of course you do.” You laugh, leaning against him. “Oh! Did I tell you what Ace and Deuce did earlier today? You won’t believe it.”

He humors you as you chatter away, recounting the latest shenanigans. “So, Grim decided to ‘supervise,’ which really just meant eating half the snacks while Ace accidentally set off the fire alarm—again.”

Leona snorts softly. “Idiots.”

“Yeah, but they’re my idiots.”

When you finally reach Ramshackle’s doorstep, you turn to face him, a little reluctant for the night to end. On a whim, you step forward and wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Leona freezes for half a second, and when you pull away, his expression is somewhere between surprised and utterly smitten.

“Goodnight, Leona,” you say softly, watching as he blinks down at you like you just shattered every lazy expectation he had about this date.

He clears his throat, looking away, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah... night.”

As he turns to leave, you can’t help but feel like you’ve just unlocked a whole new side of him—and you kind of love it.

You’ve been talking about this video game figure for weeks. Every time you hang out with Leona, he hears about it. Well, "hang out" is a generous term—he naps on your lap or leans against you, and you yap his ear off about how amazing the game is and how this figure is the holy grail of limited merch.

“I’ve been doing everything,” you rant one day, lying next to him in the botanical garden. “Crowley made me do ten extra assignments this week. I even agreed to clean Grim’s litter box without arguments—twice! But it’s worth it. If I get that figure, my life will be complete.”

Leona, who’s half-asleep with his head resting on your shoulder, cracks an eye open. “That good, huh?”

“Yes, that good. There are only ten in the world, Leona. Ten.”

He grunts, shifting a little to get more comfortable. “Better hope your luck’s good, herbivore. Sounds like a lotta effort for a toy.”

“It’s not a toy,” you huff dramatically. “It’s a collectible figure, and it’s the coolest thing in existence. Just wait—when it drops tomorrow, I’m getting it.”

And yet, the universe doesn’t care about your efforts.

You stare at your phone screen in disbelief the next day. The site crashes, the countdown ends, and the figure sells out in 0.2 seconds flat. You refresh. Then refresh again. But it’s gone—snatched from your grasp like a mirage in the desert.

“No... no, no, no.” You sit there, devastated, as the weight of your failure sinks in. After all the work, all the chores, and all the emotional speeches to Leona, you’ve been denied. The limited-edition figure remains forever out of reach.

By the time you see Leona later, your mood is somewhere between tragic despair and begrudging acceptance. You find him lounging in the garden again, his favorite napping spot.

“Didn’t get it, huh?” he asks, his voice carrying that lazy drawl as you flop down beside him.

“Nope,” you sigh, resting your forehead on your knees. “All that work, all that hope... and nothing.”

Without another word, Leona pulls something from behind him and chucks it onto your lap.

You blink. Then blink again.

It’s the figure. The figure. THE limited-edition figure you’ve been pining after for weeks.

“Leona???” you squawk, holding it up like it might vanish into thin air if you let go. “What—how—why—?”

He just shrugs. “Still the second prince, y’know.”

“You—" Your jaw drops. “Did you use royalty status to get me this figure?!”

“Yeah.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like he just asked the palace cook to make toast instead of pulling strings for a rare collector’s item.

You gape at him, torn between disbelief and giddiness. “Leona... that’s cheating.”

“So?” He leans back with a satisfied smirk, clearly amused by your reaction. “You wanted it, didn’t you?”

You can’t help it—you burst into laughter, clutching the figure like it’s the greatest treasure ever gifted to you. “You’re impossible.”

Leona tugs you down beside him, trapping you in his arms. “Yeah, yeah. Now quit yappin’ and let me nap.”

Still grinning like a fool, you curl into him, giggling into his hair. “You’re way too good to me, you know that?”

He huffs, but there’s no hiding the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His hand rests lazily against your back, warm and grounding. “Hmph. Lucky I like you.”

And just like that, he drifts off into sleep, his arms snug around you. And you? You lie there, feeling like the happiest person alive, hugging your figure close while Leona naps against you, his soft breaths the perfect lullaby.

The first sign something is wrong comes when Grim tries waking you up for your usual chaos-filled day.

“Hey, get up, henchhuman! We’ve got things to do!” he says, poking your cheek with one of his fluffy paws. “It’s already late! If Crowley gets mad, I ain’t takin' the fall!”

Normally, you’d groan and roll out of bed—or at least threaten Grim with chores—but today? All you can manage is a weak grunt before you flop back onto your pillow like a defeated pancake.

“Henchhuman?” Grim nudges you again, this time with more urgency. You crack one eye open just long enough to see his ears flatten in concern. “Oi, don’t ignore me—what’s wrong?”

Your head is heavy, and it feels like your bones have melted into jelly. You try to say I think I’m dying, but all that comes out is a sad, congested whimper.

Grim’s eyes widen, and suddenly, he’s a blur of blue fur and panic. “You’re dying!” he yells, as if confirming the worst-case scenario. “Don’t go toward the light, henchhuman! I’ll be right back—stay alive!!”

Before you can reassure him—or at least remind him that people don’t die from mild fevers—Grim is already out the door, paws skidding against the floor like a tiny tornado.

Somewhere across campus, Leona is enjoying a particularly satisfying mid-morning nap in the botanical gardens when an absolute menace of a furball barrels into him.

“HEY, YOU! Lion guy!” Grim shouts, climbing onto Leona's chest. “Get up! Henchhuman’s dying!”

Leona cracks open one bleary eye. “Dying?” he repeats with a skeptical grunt, already half-expecting Grim to be overreacting. “Probably just overslept.”

“I know the difference between sleeping and dying!” Grim shrieks, paws batting at Leona’s face. “They're burning up, can’t even sit up! You gotta do something!”

Leona grumbles under his breath, but he’s on his feet before Grim can push him again. The usual lazy slouch is gone, replaced by swift, purposeful movements.

By the time he strides into your room, Leona has already called his personal doctor, much to Ruggie’s dismay (“Do you know what time it is?! Do I get paid overtime for this??”). Leona doesn’t care. He’s moving fast—like a lion with a mission.

It’s a blur after that. You vaguely register a cool hand against your burning forehead, Leona’s voice a low rumble beside you. The doctor checks your pulse, takes your temperature, and declares it’s just a fever with some exhaustion thrown in. Nothing dangerous, but definitely enough to flatten you.

“Hah.” Leona lets out a short sigh of relief, slumping in the chair beside your bed. “Told ya Grim, not dead.”

“Yeah, well…” Grim’s still pacing at the edge of your bed, tail twitching in frustration. “They looked dead, okay?! How was I supposed to know?”

“You weren’t. That’s why I’m here,” Leona says flatly, though his tone is less irritated than usual.

The next few hours pass in a fog of sleep, soft voices, and the occasional pressure of something cool against your skin. Ruggie swings by every now and then to drop off food, grinning as he deposits soup and medicine like it’s some kind of delivery service.

“Man, if I knew babysitting was part of my job description, I’d have charged extra,” Ruggie teases, setting down a tray.

Leona just rolls his eyes. “Get lost, hyena.”

Despite his usual snark, Leona is surprisingly attentive. He makes sure you drink water, feeds you spoonfuls of soup even when you mumble protests, and keeps an arm draped lazily around you when you shiver. If anyone asks, he’ll say it’s just because you’re annoying and need constant supervision.

When you finally come to, it’s because something warm and heavy is curled against you. You blink a few times, head still foggy, and realize it’s Leona—completely sprawled across the chair next to your bed, but with one hand tightly clasping yours.

You smile, warmth blooming in your chest at the sight of him. Carefully, you nudge closer, nestling against his arm. The movement stirs him awake, his golden eyes blinking down at you groggily.

“You awake now?” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep.

“Barely,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

Leona grunts, but the way his thumb brushes over your knuckles is answer enough.

Just as you’re about to fully enjoy the peace, a loud, dramatic voice cuts through the moment.

“Finally!” Grim bursts into the room, leaping onto your bed. “Took you long enough to wake up! I thought I’d have to hire a priest or somethin’!”

You chuckle softly, the sound a little scratchy. “Didn’t know you cared that much.”

“Pfft! As if.” Grim crosses his arms, looking away with a huff. “I just didn’t wanna be stuck with Crowley as my only companion. He’s useless.”

But despite his words, Grim scrambles onto your lap anyway, curling up against your chest with a grumble. “Don’t get sick again, okay? It’s a pain.”

You pet his fur, grinning as you feel him relax. “Okay, okay. No more dying.”

Leona shifts beside you, rolling his eyes. “What, am I invisible?”

“Shh,” you murmur, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Just let me enjoy my two favorite cats for a minute.”

Leona huffs, but there’s a flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I'm not a cat. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.”

You grin back at him, and for once, you don’t need words to say thank you. He knows.

You like to think of yourself as a strong person. Someone who can hold their own in this chaotic, magic-ridden school where everything from magical accidents to actual ghost attacks is a typical Tuesday. You’ve handled your fair share of weird situations and even gotten through them without embarrassing yourself too badly. But… you are still a magicless human. And that’s a fact you can’t change.

So when three tall, muscle-bound Savanaclaw students corner you in a dimly-lit corridor on your way to visit Leona, your heart sinks.

"Where ya headin', little herbivore?" The biggest one grins, flashing sharp teeth that remind you just how much worse your day could get.

“Leona’s been hanging out with you a lot, huh?” another one sneers, blocking your path. “Think that makes you special or something?”

"Maybe they've got some kind of deal with him," the third one suggests, his voice dripping with mockery. "How about you tell us what’s really going on between you two?"

Your stomach twists, but you keep your face neutral. No way are you going to let them see how nervous you are. "How about you back off before you embarrass yourselves?" you say, proud of how steady your voice sounds.

The tallest one leans in, his grin widening. “Look at you, acting all tough. Too bad there’s no magic in that mouth of yours.”

You force yourself to hold your ground, though your fingers twitch toward your pocket. You really don’t want to bother Leona, but… well, desperate times. With a quick, discreet motion, you send a single SOS text.

You: Cornered. Help.

The three of them are still jeering at you when you hear footsteps approaching from behind. Slow, measured, and heavy with the kind of weight that makes everyone in the hallway tense.

"Oi," a familiar, low growl cuts through the noise like a hot knife through butter.

All three of them freeze. You glance over your shoulder—and there he is. Leona Kingscholar.

He stands at the end of the corridor, his usual lazy posture replaced by something much sharper, much more dangerous. His emerald eyes gleam with a warning, and a sly, predatory smile spreads across his face.

"Seems like I showed up just in time." His voice is deceptively calm, almost bored. “What do you think you're doin'?”

The boys shift uncomfortably, exchanging nervous glances.

"Just… chatting," one of them stammers, the earlier bravado leaking out of him like air from a punctured balloon.

Leona steps forward, leisurely, as if he’s in no hurry—but there’s something about the way he carries himself that makes the air heavy with tension. His presence fills the space, demanding attention and submission.

"You must be real stupid," Leona drawls, "if you think you can mess with what’s mine."

The tallest boy blanches. “W-We didn’t mean—”

Leona’s grin sharpens, all teeth. "Didn’t mean to what? Annoy me? Make me waste my time on some sad, third-string rejects?"

They flinch, shrinking under the weight of his words. Leona isn’t yelling. He doesn’t have to. His authority is clear—absolute.

One of them mumbles an apology, and the others nod hurriedly, ready to slink away. But Leona’s not done.

“You ever try this again,” he says, his voice dropping into a dangerous purr, “I won’t just kick you out of Savanaclaw. I’ll bury you so deep, nobody’ll even remember your names.”

The boys scatter without another word, practically tripping over each other to escape.

Leona watches them go with a snort, then turns his gaze to you. His sharp expression softens just a fraction, the predatory edge giving way to something lazier—something almost… fond.

“You good?” he asks, as if he didn’t just verbally annihilate three guys on your behalf.

Your heart is racing, but not from fear. No, this is something else entirely. Something far more dangerous. You’re not sure when it happened, but you are completely, utterly smitten.

“Yeah,” you say, trying—and failing—not to sound starstruck.

He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” you tease, a grin tugging at your lips.

“Like you’re impressed.”

“Oh, but I am.”

He grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck, but you notice the faintest hint of color creeping up his ears. “Tch. Idiot.”

You laugh softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Thanks for showing up, though.”

Leona shrugs like it’s nothing. "I told ya—just call me when you need me."

That does it. You feel yourself practically glowing at the simple promise, the quiet reassurance beneath his words.

You lean toward him, your grin widening. “What if I need you right now?”

He smirks, draping a lazy arm over your shoulders. “Then I guess I’m stuck with you.”

You let yourself melt into his side, the earlier tension gone like a bad dream. The two of you walk off together, his arm comfortably slung over you like it belongs there.

And, in that moment, you’re pretty sure it does.

The assignment in front of you is a nightmare.

You’ve been staring at the same page for what feels like hours, your head throbbing with frustration. You chew the end of your pen, tapping your foot anxiously against the floor. Why did you leave this for the last minute? Why does it feel like every word on the page is written in an ancient, cursed script meant specifically to drain your soul?

Meanwhile, Leona is draped over you like a weighted blanket, his head resting comfortably on your shoulder. You know he’s napping because of the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing. This man has zero care in the world.

He’s been napping while you’ve been spiraling. Because of course he is.

You mutter curses under your breath, willing the assignment to finish itself. But the numbers swim in front of your eyes, and your breaths grow shorter, more unsteady. Panic claws at the edges of your mind.

Leona stirs. He shifts just slightly, cracking open one eye to glance at you. “Oi,” he grumbles. “Stop breathin’ like you’re about to pass out.”

You ignore him and grip the pen tighter, heart pounding, trying to push through the stress. That’s the worst part about this assignment—if you don’t finish it, your grades will nosedive, and Crowley will never let you hear the end of it.

Suddenly, Leona's hand slips out from around you and snatches the pen from your grip. "Gimme that."

You blink as he pulls the paper closer.

"Leona, what are you—"

"Shh." He flips through the pages like they personally offended him. His eyes scan the questions with the kind of effortless ease that makes you want to scream in frustration. Without so much as a sigh, he picks up the pen and starts writing.

You can only sit there, dumbfounded, as his neat, surprisingly elegant handwriting fills in the answers you’ve been struggling with for hours.

"Wait—are you actually doing my homework?" you ask, staring at him in disbelief.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye, the barest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Told ya. I'm a senior. This stuff’s easy."

"Easy for you, maybe."

“Then why didn’t you ask me earlier?” he drawls, finishing the last answer without breaking a sweat.

You blink at the completed assignment like it might disappear if you look away. "I… didn’t think to."

Leona rolls his eyes and tosses the pen onto the desk with a lazy flick of his wrist. “Next time, just ask. I ain't gonna let you stress yourself out over dumb stuff.”

And that’s it. Just like that, all your anxiety evaporates.

You turn to look at him, utterly smitten once again. "You're ridiculous."

He leans back, resting his head against your shoulder again with a satisfied sigh. “Yeah, yeah.”

You let yourself melt into him, the earlier panic now a distant memory. His warmth, his steady breathing, the way his arms rest loosely around you—it all feels so easy. So right.

For a moment, you just sit there in silence, the peaceful kind that feels rare and precious. The assignment is finished. The world isn't ending. You don’t have to do everything alone.

You tilt your head to rest against his, your smile soft. "Thanks, Leona."

"Mm," he hums, already halfway back to sleep. But his hand gives yours a lazy squeeze, a quiet reassurance that makes your heart skip a beat.

The day passes in a haze of warmth and peace, your stress long gone. And you realize something: being with Leona feels like this—like having someone who makes the hard days bearable, without needing you to say a word.

And yeah, you could definitely get used to this.

You've thought about asking him for weeks. Maybe even months. But every time the words start forming, you chicken out. You’re this close to accepting that you’ll just live in relationship limbo forever.

It’s safer. No awkward conversations, no heartbreak. Just… endless naps together, weird dates that may or may not be dates, and him doing sweet things without ever calling them what they are.

But tonight, as you sit curled up in his arms, watching the stars from a balcony in the botanical gardens, it feels like the moment. Leona is lounging beside you, one arm slung lazily around your shoulders, the other resting on your leg like it's the most natural thing in the world. His warmth is comforting, grounding, and for once, you let yourself think: Maybe, just maybe, this is real.

You take a breath, steeling yourself. If he laughs or acts indifferent, fine. If it ruins everything—okay, not fine, but you'll survive.

“Hey, Leona?”

He hums, eyes still half-lidded. He’s relaxed, probably thinking about nothing except how long it’ll take for him to drag you back to bed.

You clear your throat. “What are we?”

Leona cracks one eye open, giving you a lazy look. “Huh?”

You shift nervously under his gaze. “Like… What is this? Are we—” You gesture vaguely between the two of you. “—a thing? Or… I mean, are you—do you even like me like that? Or—?”

He stares at you for a second, blinking slowly, like a cat woken from a nap it didn’t want to leave. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

You feel your courage start to wither, but you force the words out. “I mean, I thought… We never really said anything official. And I don’t know if this is, you know—” You wave a hand. “Something? Or if you’re just putting up with me or—”

Leona makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh, like you just asked him the dumbest question imaginable.

“You really thought I’d let you hang around me this much if I didn’t want you?” he says, giving you a flat, incredulous look.

You blink at him. “So… we’ve been dating this whole time?”

He just stares at you. “...What else did you think we were doing?”

“Oh my god—” You slap a hand over your face, torn between relief and secondhand embarrassment. “I thought you were just vibing.”

Leona snorts. “Yeah. Vibing with you. Idiot.”

Despite yourself, you laugh—a little breathless, a little giddy. It’s so absurd. All this time, you’d been worried about asking him where you stood, and he just… assumed you knew.

Leona rolls his eyes but shifts slightly, turning to face you. His gaze is softer now, and the usual laziness in it is replaced by something raw and unguarded. His hand, rough and warm, cups your cheek.

“Listen,” he mutters, voice low and a little rough around the edges. “I’m not good at sayin’ stuff like this, so don’t make me repeat it, okay?”

You nod, holding your breath.

“I love you.” The words slip out easily, like they’ve been waiting there all along. “Don’t care what anyone says, don’t care what they think—I'm not good at a lotta things, but I know I want you.”

Your heart stumbles. For a moment, the world feels too quiet, too small. You reach up to cover his hand with yours, warmth spreading through your chest.

“I love you, too,” you whisper, like it's the easiest thing you've ever said.

Leona's lips twitch upward into a faint, self-satisfied smirk, but there’s something vulnerable in the way his gaze lingers on you, like he’s not used to getting what he wants.

“So,” you say softly, “are you my boyfriend now?”

He gives you the look—that deadpan, long-suffering stare, like you’ve just asked him the dumbest question of the century.

“Then what the hell else would I be?” he grumbles.

You can’t help it. You laugh—bright, free, and maybe a little too giddy. And before you can stop yourself, you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips.

The kiss is soft, warm, and it lingers just long enough to make your heart race. He tastes like mint and the faintest hint of something earthy, something that feels like home. His hand slides down to rest at the small of your back, holding you close like he has no intention of letting you go.

When you finally pull away, you grin at him, still breathless. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Yeah, well.” He smirks, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“Good,” you whisper, and this time, it’s him who leans in.

And just like that, the world slips away, leaving only the two of you—wrapped in warmth, in laughter, in everything you never knew you needed.

Leona saunters into your room, hands in his pockets, tail flicking lazily behind him. “Hey, Falena and his family are visiting today,” he says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

You blink at him from your bed, mid-scroll on your phone. “You mean the King and Queen of the Sunset Savanna are visiting.”

Leona shrugs. “Yeah. Same thing.”

You sit bolt upright. “Leona, that’s not the same thing! Those are literal royals!"

He raises an eyebrow, already amused. “I’m royalty too, you know?”

You groan, dragging your hands down your face. “But you’re my boyfriend!”

Leona’s smirk grows as smug as the desert sun. “Exactly.”

Oh no. He’s loving this way too much.

Despite your protests, you're soon standing next to Leona at the main entrance, sweating bullets as Falena, his wife, and Cheka step through the doors. They’re all gorgeous and elegant, the epitome of royal perfection. You’re about to pass out from nerves, but Leona? He looks like he’s two seconds away from falling asleep on his feet.

Cheka spots you first. “UNCLE LEONA!” he shrieks, barreling straight for his favorite uncle—and by extension, you. Before you can brace for impact, the little lion cub is already latched onto your legs.

“You must be the one Leona told us about!” Falena grins warmly, stepping up beside his wife, who’s equally radiant. “It’s so nice to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you.”

You gawk at him. “Wait... Leona talks about me?”

Falena’s wife smiles knowingly. “Quite a bit, actually.”

You shoot Leona a look, but he just rolls his eyes. “Don’t get weird about it.”

Meanwhile, Cheka, still latched to your leg like a koala, looks up with big, bright eyes. “You’re my favorite person now!” he declares, squeezing your leg tighter. “After Uncle Leona. But you’re mine after him, okay?”

Leona huffs out a laugh, amused by the possessive cub. “Tch. Good luck, kid.”

“I’ll fight for you!” Cheka promises dramatically, like you’re a prize to be won at a carnival. He even makes little fists, shadow-boxing an invisible opponent. “I’ll become a strong lion and beat all the bad guys!”

You try (and fail) to hold back a laugh. “Well, I look forward to it.”

Falena claps his hands together, his grin brighter than the savanna sun. “Since we’re all here, how about a walk around the grounds? It’ll be nice to catch up.”

“Nope.” Leona’s arm is suddenly wrapped around your waist, dragging you closer to him. “We’re good right here.”

Falena and his wife exchange that look—the kind that says they’ve been married long enough to know exactly what’s going on.

“We’ll leave you two alone, then,” Falena says with a chuckle, patting Leona on the shoulder. “We’re happy for you, Leona.”

His wife nods, her eyes twinkling. “Very happy.”

You open your mouth to protest—Wait, this isn’t what it looks like! We’re just standing here! I’m not even sure what’s happening!—but the words don’t come. You just sputter and blush as Leona tugs you closer, looking far too pleased with himself.

“See?” Leona murmurs smugly, lips quirking into a grin as you bury your face in your hands. “Told you it wasn’t a big deal.”

You groan into your palms. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” His grip tightens just a bit, his voice low and lazy as ever. “C’mon. Admit it—you like having a royal boyfriend.”

You peek through your fingers, cheeks burning. “Leona...”

He leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Say it.”

You glare up at him, flustered beyond belief but unable to hide the smile creeping onto your face. “...Okay, maybe I do.”

He hums in satisfaction, practically purring. “Thought so.”

And just like that, he pulls you into a lazy, one-armed hug, as if holding you is the easiest thing in the world—and honestly? It kind of is.

The moment the news breaks that you’re dating Leona, you know it’s going to be a thing. A very loud thing. Ace and Deuce are the first to get wind of it, and honestly, you almost regret ever telling them.

“Leona Kingscholar?!” Ace yells, gaping like you just told him you were moving to Mars.

“Why??” Deuce adds, equally stunned. “Are you okay? Blink twice if you're in danger.”

“Isn’t he the guy who naps literally everywhere?” Ace squawks. “Like, you’re really dating a guy who falls asleep during fights?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Ace. I am.”

“Not to mention he’s scary,” Deuce mutters. “What if he, I don’t know, kicks you out of the relationship because it’s too much work?”

“He’s not going to ‘kick me out,’ Deuce.”

Ace leans in conspiratorially, wiggling his eyebrows. “Have you thought about what happens when Riddle finds out?”

Deuce pales. “Oh man, I’m not telling him.”

“You’re definitely telling him.”

“No, you tell him!”

“Do I look like I have a death wish?” Ace scoffs. “I can already hear him screaming something about ‘poor romantic judgment!’”

Meanwhile, Jack is sitting with his arms crossed, brow furrowed. “I don’t know why you’re all acting like this. Housewarden Leona’s actually cool if you get to know him.”

Ace stares at him like he’s sprouted a second head. “Jack, the man once threatened to ‘accidentally’ kick me into a bush because I sneezed near him.”

“Yeah, because you sneezed on him.”

“It was allergy season!”

“Uh-huh.” Jack shrugs. “Still deserved it.”

Before you can jump in, Grim waddles in, arms crossed like the world’s smallest mafia boss. “I don’t care who you date as long as you’re still my henchhuman. Priorities, ya know?”

“Gee, thanks, Grim.”

Then, from across the room, Epel starts cackling like a madman.

“Oh, Vil is gonna lose his mind when he hears about this!” he wheezes, clutching his stomach. “Leona’s the exact opposite of Vil’s whole life philosophy. This is beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Ace adds, smirking. “It’s like watching two completely different wildlife documentaries crash into each other.”

Before you can stop him, Sebek jumps in, indignant. “I cannot believe you would choose that lazy lout over the Young Master!” He practically growls the words.

“Sebek, Leona is—” you try to reason, but Sebek steamrolls right over you.

“He sleeps through his classes! He’s rude! And worst of all, he doesn’t respect Master Malleus!”

You sigh. “Sebek, you can’t date someone based on their respect levels for Malleus.”

“You should!” Sebek declares, crossing his arms dramatically like a lawyer who just delivered the winning argument.

Before things spiral further, Jack mutters, “Leona’s not rude. He’s just… efficient with his energy.”

“Efficient? He calls that one freshman ‘footstool,’ Jack,” Ace deadpans.

“Maybe it’s a term of endearment,” Jack grumbles defensively.

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. The whole scene is chaotic—Ace flailing, Epel wheezing, Sebek looking personally offended, Deuce still white-knuckling through the idea of telling Riddle—and somehow, it’s perfect.

Because deep down, you know something they don’t.

Even though Leona doesn’t show it, even though he hates doing anything that even smells like effort, he cares. He really does. Whether it’s texting you to remind you to eat, draping his jacket over you when you forget yours, or waking you up from an accidental nap with your favorite snack—he makes sure you know.

You just smile quietly to yourself, heart warm. And when Ace notices and nudges you, asking what’s got you looking so smug, you just shrug.

“Oh, nothing,” you say, already counting down the minutes until you can see Leona again.

Because even though the man drives you up the wall and naps like a professional, he’s yours. And that makes all the teasing worth it.

1k masterlist ; Main Masterlist

i know lions don't purr but in my delusions, leona does. work with me here