#this sounds so dramatic now because it's all fine
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And since you're such an angel, I would love some:
snow angels with doctor!remus
Thank you and please hydrate 💧
Awee you're too sweet to me, thanks for requesting lovely <3
cw: blood (not a lot? if that helps), dizziness/lightheadedness
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 686 words
Remus cups your face in his hand, brows woven together in concern. “Did you eat lunch?” he asks you.
“Yeah.”
“What’d you have?” He swipes his thumb gently over your cheek before leaving you, going into the nearby bathroom.
“A sandwich.” You sound a bit defensive, which isn’t strictly fair. You know you gave Remus a bit of a fright when he came home to find you lying on the rug between the living room and the kitchen, too scared to get up. It was perhaps a tad dramatic—you could’ve walked over to the couch if you’d really wanted to, you’re sure—but you didn’t see any point in pushing yourself when you felt so dizzy and shaky on your feet. Remus has taken it as more cause for alarm than you have.
He comes back with a blood pressure monitor and a couple of other things, setting them on the kitchen table in front of you. “That sounds fine,” he murmurs, taking your arm to slide the cuff up it. You have the sensation of swaying in your seat, but you’re not sure if it’s really happening or only in your head. “And it’s been going on for how long?”
“Since maybe two.” You lean sideways so your head rests on his chest. Remus’ free hand comes up to hold it there gently, pinkie stroking the baby hairs by your temple as the cuff inflates around your arm.
“You should have called me, sweetheart.”
“I was okay,” you tell him. “I didn’t really think I was gonna pass out or anything, I just thought it’d be safer to sit down.”
Remus’ hum conveys some disapproval, but he doesn’t seem to think it’s worthwhile to continue arguing with you. The blood pressure monitor beeps, and he leans forward to read it.
“Hm, that’s normal.” He takes the cuff off you with a satisfying ripping sound. You curl and flex your fingers against the odd feeling.
Remus holds your head to his chest with his free hand while he leans forward, grabbing something else off the counter. He takes your hand, but you pull it from his grasp when you see what he’s holding, sitting up.
“Remus,” you whine.
He chuckles at your tone. “Dove, it’ll be quick.”
You let him take your hand again, but don’t allow him to pull it near that clicker thing. “Is it going to hurt?” you worry.
“No.”
You make a low, petulant sound in the back of your throat. Ordinarily you might be embarrassed for it, but you’re feeling rather self-pitying right now and entitled to some sulking. “Really?”
“Yes, love. Relax.”
Still feeling mistrustful, you allow him to pull your hand closer. He pricks the pad of your finger.
“Ow—Rem!”
“It’s okay,” Remus shushes you. “All done.”
“That hurt,” you complain, vindicated, as he collects the bead of blood on a reader.
“I know,” he admits. “It does, a little. But only for a second, yeah?”
You make your displeasure known through your silence.
“Look.” Remus takes your finger, kissing the back. “It’s better now, see?” He brings your head to his chest again, and it’s difficult to keep from softening when he kisses that, too. “Sorry, dovey.”
“It’s okay,” you say, begrudging, only because he really does seem to feel a bit bad.
“Mm.” He reads your blood sugar. “You’re at ninety two.”
“Is that good?”
“It’s normal.” Remus holds your cheek again, looking down at you and stroking pensively with his thumb. You’re not sure if he’s feeling for something or just touching you; you’re happy either way.
He hums softly. “Do you feel tired as well?”
“A little, yeah.”
“Headache?”
You tilt your head back to see him. “What’s it mean?”
“I’ll take that for a yes, then.” His lips curve softly. “I’m not completely sure what it means yet, but I’ve got a couple of theories.”
“Can you fix it?” you ask, though really you have complete faith. Remus always fixes it.
He kisses your head again like he knows what you’re thinking. His lips make a soft landing just short of your hairline. “We’ll see.”
#mae's 8k#doctor!remus lupin#remus lupin au#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x self insert#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fic#remus lupin hurt/comfort#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin scenario#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders x reader
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Toto Wolff with wife reader. They had a fight and just sort of made each other laugh when they were talking. Which is why they married each other in the first place. Up to you. Thanks!! :))
The slam of a door echoes through the house, not loud enough to be angry, but firm enough to leave no room for ambiguity. You exhale sharply, your arms crossed as you stand in the kitchen, staring at the countertop. The argument wasn’t supposed to spiral like this—not over something so trivial. It was about the schedule for the weekend, who was supposed to handle what, and somehow, it had escalated into a full-blown disagreement.
Toto had walked out to the living room, his long strides carrying him away from your raised voice. That alone had been enough to irritate you further. You can hear him now, somewhere in the house, moving things around, his presence as large and impossible to ignore as ever. You don’t have the energy to follow after him or continue the argument. Instead, you open a cabinet and begin tidying up the already-organized shelves, trying to distract yourself from the simmering frustration.
Minutes pass. It’s quiet, except for the soft clinking of plates as you rearrange them. You wonder if he’s sitting on the couch, brooding, or maybe pacing around as he tends to do when his emotions get the better of him. The thought of his long legs covering endless ground in the small space almost makes you smile—almost.
The sound of footsteps pulls you out of your thoughts. You don’t turn around, though. You’re not ready to engage again.
“Are you seriously reorganizing the dishes?” his voice comes from the doorway, a mixture of incredulity and amusement. It’s the first time he’s spoken since the argument ended in stalemate.
You set down a plate with a bit more force than necessary and glance over your shoulder. “Yes. It’s productive. Unlike—” You cut yourself off, not wanting to reignite the tension. “It’s fine.”
Toto leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed, his head tilted as he studies you. “You always do this,” he says, and there’s a warmth creeping into his voice that you don’t want to acknowledge just yet. “You get annoyed and suddenly everything in the house has to be spotless.”
“It’s better than stomping away dramatically like someone I know,” you retort, turning back to your dishes.
There’s a beat of silence, and then he chuckles—a low, rich sound that breaks through the lingering anger like sunlight cutting through clouds. “Dramatic? Me? Darling, you slammed the cupboard doors like they owed you money.”
You freeze for a moment, your hands on a glass, and then you laugh despite yourself. It’s a small, involuntary sound that you quickly smother, but he hears it. Of course he does. Toto has a way of catching even the things you try to hide.
When you finally turn to face him, he’s grinning—crooked, boyish, and entirely disarming. It’s the grin that had charmed you all those years ago, back when he was just the ambitious team principal trying to win your heart. You sigh, leaning back against the counter, your earlier frustration melting away.
“You’re impossible,” you say, shaking your head.
“And yet,” he replies, stepping closer, “you married me.”
“Regretting it now,” you quip, but your smile betrays you.
Toto closes the distance between you, his hands finding your waist. He bends slightly to meet your eyes, his gaze soft and sincere. “No, you’re not,” he murmurs. “Because you know no one else would put up with either of us.”
You roll your eyes but can’t help laughing again. He’s right, of course. That’s always been the thing about the two of you—you clash, you bicker, but at the end of the day, you understand each other in a way that no one else could. It’s infuriating and comforting all at once.
“I hate that you’re right,” you admit, resting your hands on his chest.
“Not all the time,” he says with mock solemnity. “Just most of the time.”
“You’re still sleeping on the couch tonight,” you tease, though your tone is far too soft to be threatening.
“Am I?” he challenges, his brow arching. “We’ll see about that.”
The playfulness in his voice is enough to send a flutter through your chest. It’s moments like these—when the tension dissolves into laughter, when you’re reminded of why you fell in love in the first place—that make everything else worth it. You lean into him, your forehead resting against his, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.
“Truce?” he asks, his voice low and gentle.
“Truce,” you agree. “But only if you help me finish organizing the dishes.”
He groans theatrically, but there’s no real protest in it. “Fine. But if I break something, it’s your fault for making me do this.”
“You’re a grown man,” you reply, grinning. “Figure it out.”
He laughs again, and the sound fills the room, warm and familiar. As the two of you work side by side, bickering playfully over the proper placement of bowls and glasses, it strikes you how ridiculous the whole fight had been. But maybe that’s the secret to your marriage—knowing how to find each other again, even after the most ridiculous of arguments.
And as Toto leans over to kiss your temple, murmuring something about you being “far too stubborn for your own good,” you can’t help but think that, yes, this is exactly why you married him.
#f1#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1#toto wolff x y/n#toto wolff x reader#toto wolff imagine#toto wolff
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Heyy!! first of all your writing is SO GOOD i have come across an amazing writer such as yourself in a long long time. I was wondering if you could write something for remus lupin with the promt 44 in the list? probably like co-workers to lovers kind of a thing. i love him sm i wish he were real ( not that i'd have a chance but still ). THANK YOU SM <33 LOTS OF LOVE
STOP IT, you're making me blush!! You’re so sweet, and I appreciate you taking the time to tell me that—you’ve officially made my day!!
ivy's 1k celebration ❄️ navigation ❄️ prompt list
ˋ°•*⁀➷ REMUS LUPIN #44: "Tell me three reasons why I should put up with you." "Well, for starters, I'm cute."
You leaned against the staffroom door, your eyes locked on the brooding figure hunched over a pile of essays. The quill in Remus Lupin’s hand moved furiously, his brows furrowed in concentration. Honestly, he looked a bit like a kicked puppy—a really cute, endearingly grumpy puppy.
"Oi, Lupin." You sauntered in, plopping into the chair opposite him. "You look like you’re grading the downfall of humanity, not essays."
Without looking up, he muttered, "If you'd read this one, you’d think the same."
You laughed, the sound bright in the dull, parchment-scented room. "Careful, Professor Lupin, your grumpiness is showing."
Remus sighed, finally meeting your gaze, his tired eyes tinged with exasperation. "Some of us take our work seriously."
"And some of us," you shot back with a smirk, "know how to have fun while doing it. You should try it sometime—fun, I mean. It’s delightful."
His lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but he caught himself. "Why are you here, anyway? I thought you were done for the day."
"I was," you said, leaning forward conspiratorially, "but I heard you were holed up here, looking like a medieval monk. Thought I’d check on you."
"How thoughtful," he deadpanned, though the faintest blush dusted his cheeks.
You grinned, knowing you were getting to him. "You’re welcome. Now, I demand your attention for at least five minutes."
"Why?" he asked, tilting his head and raising a brow.
"Because I’m adorable," you quipped, twirling a strand of hair.
"Debatable," he shot back, though his cheeks flushed pinker.
"Rude," you gasped, clutching your chest like he'd just insulted your honor. "You wound me, Lupin."
His lips curved into the tiniest smile, and you knew you had him.
"Fine," he said, sitting back and crossing his arms. "You want my attention? Tell me three reasons why I should put up with you."
You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand, your smirk growing. "Well, for starters, I’m cute."
"Debatable," he repeated, but his voice was softer, teasing.
"And second," you continued, ignoring him, "I make your dull, miserable days brighter with my sparkling wit and charm."
His eyes rolled, but you caught the corner of his mouth twitching.
"And third," you finished with a dramatic sigh, "you secretly like me and would miss me terribly if I stopped bothering you."
For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes studying you like you were one of his more perplexing students. You felt your pulse quicken, the usual banter hanging in the air like a question left unanswered.
Then he smiled—small and shy, but genuine—and looked down at the essays in front of him.
"You’re insufferable," he said, but there was no heat behind it.
"You’re blushing, Lupin," you teased, your grin widening.
"I’m not," he mumbled, his ears now undeniably red.
"Oh, you are. I win."
"Win what?" he asked, glancing up at you again.
"Whatever this is," you said, motioning between the two of you.
"Well," he said softly, "if this is winning, I think I’m alright with losing."
Your heart skipped a beat, his words sinking in. Was Remus Lupin—grumpy, shy, always-buried-in-books Remus Lupin—flirting with you?
"Careful, Lupin," you said, leaning back in your chair, though your voice was softer now. "You keep talking like that, and I might start to think you like me."
He chuckled, the sound low and warm, and for the first time, he didn’t deny it.
#ivy's soft scribbles ೀ#ivy's 1k celebration ✧₊⁺#frost bite ❄️#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin
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Hey, I love your work so much 🫶🏻
Idk if anyone has requested this before, but if they didn't, I was wondering if you could write Mingyu with Suggestive prompt 21? Maybe with a plus sized!reader if that's okay 🥹🖤
But if you don't feel comfortable writing for plus sized!reader it's fine, I'd read anything with Mingyu and this prompt honestly 😔✊🏻🖤
baby, i am very comfortable writing for plus sized!reader, thank you very much for requesting it and being so sweet about it! 💜 hopefully you will like it!
suggestive prompt: 'you could be wearing a trash bag and i'd still want you.'
shopping is a fun thing to do, but you have to be in a certain mood for it to go well. most of the times it's such a hassle to figure out correct size and good fit with casual clothes, but when it comes to something fancier this hassle turns into a full-blown struggle. you cringe at your reflection in the mirror - the size of the dress is correct, but the fit is just wrong. the fabric clings to your figure in all of the wrong places, shows off what you'd like to hide and makes you appear way bigger than you actually are. which is a pity, because this dress is so pretty and color looks amazing on you, but the way your love handles and tummy gets accentuated here is not flattering at all. it almost makes you want to cry, to be honest - you love your body and you want to look beautiful, how can finding a nice dress be this hard? it's an important event for mingyu and he already chose a suit for it that looks dashing on him; as his plus one you can't look anything less than perfect.
'how it's going, babe?' mingyu calls out loud enough for you to hear from the changing rooms. 'can i come in?'
'no!' you rush out, quickly composing yourself.
you hear sound of footsteps coming closer and suddenly mingyu is right here behind the curtain: 'but i wanna see,' he whines cutely. 'i wanna see how that dress looks on you. i bet it's so pretty.'
you shake your head, upset. 'it is not, gyu.'
'no?' he questions, surprised. 'but i thought it'd be perfect on you. is it on you now? can i look?' his hand tugs at the curtain insistently.
you know mingyu is not going to back out, so you sigh and move the curtain, letting him see what you see in that awful reflection. for few moments mingyu is silent but then his hands are on your hips and he plasters his front to your back: 'babe. shit. looking so good.'
you blink at these words, meeting his gaze in the mirror. one of you definitely has a bad eyesight, because mingyu looks at you like you are a goddess and you want to never see yourself in this dress again. 'it's awful,' you says, looking at him confused. 'look at the rolls. and at my tummy. my god.'
mingyu frowns, his hands skim from your hips to your tummy and then go lower to brush your thighs in a very not-pg way. 'i see curves and i see beauty. what do you see?'
you can tell that is not lying but still - 'it's not that sexy, gyu.'
mingyu chuckles, leaning in to press few kisses on your hair. 'you could be wearing a trash bag and i'd still want you, babe. you're always sexy to me. if you don't like this dress then fine, no worries, we can look for something else. but you are sexy. very much so.'
you melt, letting him pepper your face with kisses. someone clears their throat and you push mingyu away, giggling at his dramatic pout and how he tries to hold on to your hips. 'more kisses when you're out?' he asks, puppy eyes on full display.
'more kisses when i'm out,' you promise, smiling.
shopping can be such a hassle and unnecessary struggle, but at least you got mingyu with you.
a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini
#this is very mingyu coded tbh#seventeen imagine#seventeen fluff#seventeen reaction#kim mingyu imagines#kim mingyu fluff#kim mingyu x reader#seventeen mingyu#seventeen kim mingyu#svt mingyu#svt mingyu imagine#svt kim mingyu#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#seventeen prompt
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Echoes of Winged Rebellion
Pairing: Zuko x Katara
Word Count: 731
Prompt: For Zutara Week 2024 | Day 3: Echoes @zutaraweek
Warnings: Humor, lighthearted banter, playful teasing, mild romantic tension, mentions of past near-drowning (in a comedic context), absurd situations (turtle ducks organizing), non-serious hostage situation (gardener held by turtle ducks)
The morning air was crisp in the Fire Nation palace, but the halls were anything but silent. Katara sighed as the sound of her voice—well, an incredibly dramatic mimicry of her voice—bounced off the grand walls.
“ZUKO!” The shout reverberated through the grand corridor, carried by an equally over-the-top stomp.
Katara stopped mid-step, narrowing her eyes at the figure down the hallway. Zuko stood there, arms crossed, lips twitching as he barely restrained his grin.
"How could you do this to me?!" he mimicked, waving his arms wildly, a smirk tugging at his lips as he continued his over-the-top reenactment of one of their more infamous squabbles.
Katara’s hand went to her hip. “Zuko, for the last time, that’s not how it happened."
Zuko tilted his head, his golden eyes alight with mischief, one eyebrow arching as his smirk broke free. “Really? Because I remember it exactly like this.” Clearing his throat, he dropped his voice in an exaggerated growl. "Actually, Katara, I think we should fight the Dai Li by walking into their trap because that’s clearly a GREAT IDEA." His arms flailed again for emphasis.
"I do not sound like that!"
"Are you sure? Because the echo says otherwise." Zuko gestured to the empty hallway as if it were on his side.
Despite herself, a snort escaped Katara’s lips, and she quickly clamped a hand over her mouth. “You’re the worst.”
“Oh no, I’m the Fire Lord.” Zuko strode toward her, his boots clicking against the polished floor, his expression one of pure, insufferable glee.
Katara crossed her arms, but her mock-glare faltered as a laugh bubbled up. "Oh, you think you're so clever, don’t you? Don’t forget what happened to you at the Western Air Temple."
"You mean the second time you tried to drown me?" he shot back, his smirk widening.
“First of all, I didn’t try to drown you,” Katara shot back, stepping closer until they were nose to nose. “Second, you deserved it.”
His smirk softened into something warmer, and he reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Sure I did,” he murmured. “And you forgave me, remember?”
“I regret that every single day,” she deadpanned, though her lips betrayed her with a smile.
"Sure you do," Zuko replied, his voice softer now. He reached out and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.
Katara sighed, her cheeks warming. "Okay, fine. I guess it’s funny… but only a little!"
"A little?" Zuko echoed mockingly again, but this time there was a genuine warmth in his voice. "You’re laughing, aren’t you?"
Katara rolled her eyes but let herself smile. "Fine, you win this one. But don’t think I’m letting you off that easily."
"Oh, I wouldn’t dare," Zuko said, his smirk now full-blown.
Suddenly, the sound of scampering feet interrupted their moment. A young boy, breathless and wide-eyed, skidded to a halt in front of them.
“Fire Lord Zuko! Lady Katara!” The boy gulped, his words spilling out in a rush. “There’s—uh—there’s a situation in the courtyard.”
Zuko frowned, glancing at Katara, who arched a questioning brow. “What kind of situation?” she asked.
The boy fidgeted. "It’s… the turtle ducks. They’ve organized."
Zuko blinked. "Organized? Into what?"
"An army, sir," the boy said, dead serious. "They’ve formed ranks around the pond and seem very upset about… something." He glanced nervously at Katara.
Katara’s eyes widened in realization. "Oh, no. Zuko, did you forget to feed them again?"
Zuko hesitated, his golden eyes darting away, "Uh… maybe?"
Katara gave him a long, exasperated look. "You’re Fire Lord, and you can’t remember to feed turtle ducks?"
“It’s not like they’d actually do anything,” he muttered defensively, but his voice faltered under her glare.
“They’ve taken the gardener hostage,” the boy interrupted, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.
Katara blinked. “They’ve what?”
“They’re demanding food… and reparations.” The boy's voice wavered.
Zuko groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Great. I’ll be the first Fire Lord in history to lose the throne to turtle ducks.”
Katara’s lips twitched. “If the turtle ducks overthrow the Fire Nation, it’ll be entirely your fault.”
“Oh, you’re loving this, aren’t you?” Zuko grumbled, though his faint smirk returned as he reached for her hand.
Katara squeezed it, her laugh echoing through the halls as they strode toward the courtyard, ready to face the feathered rebellion.
#zutara#zutara fanfiction#zutara fluff#zutara shenanigans#avatar the last airbender#atla fanfiction#atla zutara#zutara humor#fire lord zuko#katara of the southern water tribe#atla crack fic#turtle duck rebellion#zutara banter#zutara moments#fire nation palace#zuko x katara#zutara vibes#zutara endgame#katara and zuko#zutara love#zutara forever#zutara fic#zutara fanfic#avatar fanfiction#zutara writing#avatar crack fic#zutara fluff and humor#zutara cute#zutara chaos#zutara dynamic
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a/n: soo apparently i'm stupid and i accidentally posted the unfinished version, had to delete it and then lost the request but here's a picture of it.
caught on camera - jamal musiala
pairings: jamal musiala x fem!reader (ft. leroy sané)
summary: the req
genre: fluff
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international break. two words that always managed to wrap the atmosphere in excitement. this time however, it was muffled by the fact jamal wasn't able to play. sure, you loved watching the german national team but it just wasn't the same without your boyfriend on the pitch. but when leroy invited you both to sit with him in the grandstands, you still enthusiastically accepted, leading to the three of you now waiting in the icy weather of autumn.
the match hadn't even started, yet leroy already complained about his ass freezing off. totally not because he chose to wear a statement piece instead of an actual winter jacket. you chuckled at his dramatic antics, before offering him a blanket from your bag, that you only brought because you knew he wouldn't layer himself enough. besides, you didn't need it anyway, being comfortably settled in your boyfriends side. jamal was like a portable heater, always warm even under these conditions. your head lazily resting on his shoulder as his arm lingered on your side, holding you close.
he was still a upset about his injury that kept him from contributing to the team, but being here with you and leroy seemed to already cheer him up. his chest lightly vibrating from chuckling every now and then over a joke leroy told.
it was a beautiful night in the allianz arena. on the pitch, you could see the players warming up while fans cozied themselves in the seats, dressed in their countries representative colours.
during the player-walkout, jamal and leroy were still deeply indulged in a discussion. something trivial about who had the prettier cleats.
"bro my pink ones definitely beat yours. i mean they glitter."
"yeah and you get fined for it at every game. trust me mine are better."
"but they make your feet look weird."
"excuse me?!"
you smiled absentmindedly at their banter, your palm resting around jamal's arm when you suddenly felt his hand on your thigh. as you turned to him, he was still vividly talking to leroy, but his fingers continued to softly stroke over the fabric of your jeans. the action felt so sweetly intimate, a warm feeling settling in your chest as you pressed a kiss to his cheek in return. when leroy was wrapped up in a conversation with someone next to him, jamal gave you a peck on your forehead, a small smile evident on his lips.
"you okay?" he asked, feeling bad for not paying as much attention to you. you nodded "all good, i'm just appreciating this right now." lost in the feeling. jamal agreed, slightly tightening his hold on your waist, his focus entirely trained on you as he spoke "we didn't really have a night out for a while... " he paused, his gaze flickering to your mouth for a second "i missed this." he finished before closing the small distance between you and locking your lips in a short but loving kiss. your surroundings seemed to blur for the while, muting the noise. it didn't last too long though, as you heard leroy coughing exaggeratedly "guys stop sucking off eachothers faces. the game's down there." he exclaimed, trying to sound somewhat serious but failing miserably, not able to stiffle his teasing tone. you pulled away from jamal sending the other man a glare. he really knew how to ruin a moment.
the game was in full swing, but your attention lingered elsewhere. your hand rested in jamal's as he stole sweet kisses from you, his lips ghosting over yours, now mindful hide it from leroy. the blush on your cheeks was almost permanent, partially because you felt like you could swoon at any second but also because this level of pda caught you off guard. jamal usually tended to keep the relationship private. off the media. but you enjoyed it nontheless, leaning your head on his shoulder as his arm wrapped around you, shielding off the cold october breeze.
as the night went on it flourished in tension, on and off the pitch. as the 62nd minute rolled around it was evident jamal couldn't get enough of you and you weren't the only one who noticed. apart from leroy, there were other heads turning and cameras clicking. you two would definitely end up in some news the next morning, but jamal couldn't care any less, he just wanted to be with you.
however, leroy was in his ear the whole time, childish and teasing like a toddler. he was really acting as if he wouldn't be all up on his wife if she had been at the game today.
after the game had ended and germany won, the stands emptied fast as fans hurried out of the stadium. leroy, jamal and you squeezed your way through the masses of people. your hand tightly in his grip. the plan was to catch up with the teammates that had played today, to show support and give congrats. besides, jamal and leroy really wanted to annoy flo.
your trio eventually made it to the locker rooms, it didn't take a second before leroy disappeared inside, leaving you and your boyfriend in the hallway. you both stood in a comfortable silence before jamal spoke up "i can't wait to get home. leroy really is a dumbass today." a chuckle escaped his throat as he looked over to you, a small sparkle in his eyes.
"just today?" you replied teasingly, raising a brow, "you always complain about him." jamal grinned "yeah well but it's like he rocked the level up to 200" . a few beats pass, jamal's gaze still studying you. "you look very pretty." the words left his mouth, causing a blush to creep on your cheeks. jamal smiled, liking the effect he had on you. with a step he was next to you wrapping you into his arms again this evening. it was a feeling you would never get tired of.
"see?" a voice, leroys voice, interrupted the moment. again. both of your heads snapped to him, a confused expression decorating your faces.
leroy had left the locker room, now accompanied by flo wirtz. both of them mustered you with judging but amused faces. "they've been like this all night!" he added and flo laughed, breaking the act, "you really are all up on eachother." he grinned, gesturing between you and jamal. your boyfriend gasped "wha- bro we just hugged!" shock painted his face while leroy retaliated "yeah sure, you probably would've done a lot more if we weren't here...keeping watch" he scoffed jokingly, heating up the drama.
"oh my- just let me love my girlfriend." jamal spoke clearly jokingly offended. you couldn't help but smile at their boyish arguing. "as long as you stay decent, sure" this time it was flo's voice speaking, a smirk tugging at his lips. jamal just shook his head but couldn't help the smile spreading on his face. "okay fuck you, we're going home. have a day." jamal chuckled grabbing your hand and dragging you out with him as you quickly said your goodbye's to them. "sure!" leroy yelled after you, "but remember to use condoms." this little fucker.
when you were out of sight a laugh broke from your throat. "oh god, they really are like toddlers." jamal scoffed but smiled after, heat rising to his cheeks.
"and i will never hear the end of it during next practice."
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that's it hope you like it!
#bookblr#writers on tumblr#author#fanfic#em2024#football#jamal musiala#germannt#soccer#fc bayern#x reader#fluff
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i only worked backstage but i can def give u some insight into that! our school plays were kinda a big deal, i worked on prop and makeup one year and was stage manager the year after. now the dressing rooms are gonna look very different for every school; mines turned the gym changing rooms into the makeup area. some of the actors did their own makeup; that was mostly people who 1. knew how to do the makeup 2. required very little changes that they could easily do 3. previously practiced doing the makeup and 4. were usually older students (my school had students from 6th to 12th grade, so we had a bigger cast than most lol).
i was the makeup manager. i was in charge of makeup designs and makeup application. again, our cast was pretty big, and everyone required makeup, so we had to be smart about it. for certain ensemble members, i had one makeup look that would be put onto every single one of them (they were meant to be cult-like, so it worked). for the other ensemble members who were meant to be more diverse and different and rebellious, i gave them an idea of what the looks should be like, then when our first practice came, i built on their ideas. i wasn't the only one doing this, we were maybe 4 people working on this. this is definitely going to differ based on cast size, how many makeup changes have to happen, how much time you have, etc. you also have to be creative in handling the makeup depending on these factors. a lot of factors come into play for show makeup.
we had walky talkies that we would use to announce when someone was needed between stage and backstage. the stage manager did most of that work, but the prop crew also had some.
for props, we had charts and photos for how the stage was meant to look like in every scene. we still memorised most of the scenes' important prop placements, which isn't hard when you spend multiple months working on one project, but considering some schools do spring, winter, and summer shows, i think it would be a bit harder for them to memorise, so charts and photos would be enough. we waited backstage and would change the scenes whenever the curtains closed and gave any smaller props to the actors when necessary.
i make both of these roles sound dramatic but they were actually so fun. most of the work came in training to get them done quickly, but once we were sure everything would be done on time, we kinda just... sped through it on the actual day? and we'd spend the rest of the time dancing and having fun backstage even though we had to be really quiet about it so as to not disrupt the actual show lol. silent dancing in the dark.
funny little story. we had a lot of vapers in our school show. they'd all keep their vapes with me when they went on stage. at one point i had six different vapes in my pocket which was insane 😭😭 i also try my best to be kind always, so i found that a lot of people would come to me when they were nervous and i was really grateful i could provide comfort. another funny story, our show was during ramadan, and my friend who was doing sounds and i are muslim. the show was maybe 15 minutes after prayer time, so we would stuff our faces with food, pray, then speed backstage.
for the second show, i was the stage manager, and i took a lot of director roles too and was basically given the role of "second in charge". there was the obvious job which was: i had to manage when people were on stage, surprise surprise! we used walky talkies again, but i was also often running around making sure everyone and everything were where they were supposed to be. had to work closely with the prop manager at a lot of points because... props are part of the stage? kinda necessary part of being a stage manager lol. there was less dancing for me that year because i had more responsibilities, but i was fine with that. i was again given "can you hold my vape" duties which was still very funny to me, but it expanded to phones, small items, lipstick, etc.
i spent a lot of time pre-show annotating the script to decide when every cast member should be in certain locations. we had the backstage area, the dressing rooms, the stage, and the room connected to the backstage area. again, the cast was big, and no matter how hard i tried, i would never have been able to get them to be completely silent which you have to be backstage, so i had to think about that well. i had two people helping me which i was sooo thankful for.
given i was "second in charge" and am generally approachable, i also had to deal with a lot of problems in the cast. if there was drama, or there were serious issues, i was often the one told about it. the biggest issue was when the director was making a cast decision that made a lot of people uncomfortable because the person cast was very rude and disrespectful. i had to manage that situation but could only do so much as second in charge. the director and i came to a compromise that made most people feel better. (ps. i hated the director. hated her guts soooo bad. hated her decision making so bad as well. hated how she always played favourites. ugh.)
the cast and crew are usually very close and friendly. i was friends with most of the main cast and most of the crew (not the director though. ugh). we hung out outside the show often. i will say the backstage crew tended to be less theatre kid-y, half of us were and half of us either just wanted the credit or were doing something they enjoyed for other reasons (someone who worked on tech ended up studying computer science, for example). at the end of the show we would have an afterparty where people would almost certainly get drunk, and we'd celebrate the weekend after (shows ran from friday to sunday, so we couldn't do much over the week lol). we'd go on karaoke and people would joke that the crew was meant to be the ones on stage, we had a picnic, we just had a lot of fun overall. i wasn't involved in any drama, but i know there was some both times (again, considering we had a whole classroom sized cast, i think that's kinda a given).
some certain things we did include:
not saying macbeth, obviously
mutually hating on the director (both cast and crew. some people liked her but the majority were three seconds away from clawing our eyes out cuz of her)
calming one another down when we were nervous (that included me being calmed down cuz i was on the verge as a stage manager 😭)
as someone said. no going behind the damn back curtains. i was the only one allowed to as stage manager and i had to be so fucking careful that i didn't do it except for once when i really needed to. there were lights and wires between the wall and the curtain and any movement would've been seen by the audience which is a no-no.
we had a common phrase which was "you know what the audience is meant to be seeing, they don't" which basically meant if you fuck up, the audience won't know: improvised and don't panic. the audience can't tell the difference between improvisation and script.
i had to deal with. a lot. of makeup smearing in between scenes and acts. sometimes had to redo the whole thing. hellish.
sometimes the cast would help the prop crew put everything in place when the curtains were closed and the cast were ready.
we had vocal and bodily warm ups, and the crew participated in them as well. wasn't necessary, but it was fun bonding.
we had a mic disparity so we very often had to give mics from one person to another. also hellish, would not recommend.
the prop people will be insanely specific about where things go. better to give them the prop and have them place it where they want than just put it where you think it should be backstage.
the crew loves messing around. we have a lot of gaps where we don't work. we will 100% take advantage of them and fuck around for a bit.
putting makeup on someone can feel. a bit romantic. not for the makeup ppl but. for the cast. i hated that people felt like that cuz. i was kinda just doing my job lol. had a cast member confess and another flirt and i didn't reciprocate either and it was hell!!!!!
theatre is known for having a lot of queer men, but it also has a lot of queer women and a lot of trans and nonbinary people. it's a very inclusive space (in small productions at least) which i personally loved sm as a queer woman myself
that's all i can rack my brain for rn, but i'm sure there's more. idm sharing whatever, so always feel free to hmu!!
PSPSPSPS!! Calling all theater kids!!! I wanna make Jason a theater kid but I was too busy being in marching band to join any school plays. I know plenty of Shakespeare, but only in a literary analysis way. Tell me ALL about your time in your school drama department
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#so i updated my game#and had a heart attack because#my sim shows up without her shirt and hair on the main menu but everything is in the game??#so i thought the EA app uninstalled my stuff because I heard people had that happen to them??#aaaaand now none of my stuff is in my library#yup all of my tray files literally got deleted#i am sooo SO GLAD i backed everything up before updating#it could have been so much worse i'm so glad everything's there#let this be a lesson#in backing up your stuff kids#this sounds so dramatic now because it's all fine#but dang i just wanted to play my game!!#😆#sims 4#sims 4 memes#ts4#ts4 meme
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truly just SUCH a typical tumblr experience but like.
Familiar Tumblr Name makes a post that's like: 'you know how fast fashion perpetuates itself by selling us clothing that gets dingy and grody really fast, so we have to replace it yearly?'
me: uh, no, actually—historically i've found that the few fast fashion pieces i acquired long outstayed their welcome, and were perfectly wearable long after i was heartily sick of them! but go on, i guess
FTN: 'let me tell you about this traditional domestic wisdom (implied: that's been lost because of, uh, capitalism) that will fix this problem (that you, too, definitely have) for you!'
me, googling: okay so this residue that FTN said was somehow a Fast Fashion thing is apparently generally caused by like. fabric softener and/or hard water. using discount detergents that skimp on active ingredients. using too much detergent so it doesn't wash out. letting your bedding go too long between washes. letting your washer go too long between cleans. etc. anyway. lots of specific factors here, many of which may in fact not apply to you in particular!
but like. why get specific when instead we could assert You Know This Problem, Right? This Lost Traditional Wisdom Will Definitely Help You Personally!!
#just like. makes me mad as rhetoric bc like. *i* can evaluate yr Dramatic Tumblr Post critically and do independent research abt it#and determine how much of it applies to me#and like. the answer is: basically none but it's a good reminder to clean the washing machine‚ thx#but like. there are loads of ppl in the notes just like. nodding along very wide-eyed#to whom this ALSO may not be applicable but who have lapped up yr sloppy demagoguery#and it's just like. [FTN] admits *in this post* that they don't actually know all the ins and outs of this#and it's just like. then probably you shouldn't be climbing onto your soapbox to explain it to people just yet!!#and telling people to get Righteously Angry that this has been Kept From Them#anyway. extremely specific subtweet and honestly the consequences of blindly taking OP's advice would probably not be too bad#but it's just like. i get really frustrated with these bloggers who want to Dispense Advice#but aren't actually experts themselves‚ don't provide any citations for their assertions‚ and claim that things are Universally Applicable#which is just. never true!! people's situations vary!!!#and like. if everyone were equipped to critically evaluate this shit it'd be fine‚ probably#but they're not! people are like 'oh wow you sound confident‚ okay‚ information integrated into my worldview now!'#and it's just like. i realize the subject matter here is relatively low-stakes but it's like. the KIND of rhetoric here is. weird.#very like. There's Been a Conspiracy and You Should Believe Me Because I Sound Confident and Friendly and Like I'm On Your Side.#Reject the Innovations of Capitalism. Retvrn to the Old Ways.#and it's just like. hm what politicians does that remind me of!#anyway. sorry for this very vehement very specific subtweet i just. idk. genuinely think this strain of tumblr demagoguery is pernicious#and like. lots of it is perpetrated by liberals!! most of it ime! but it's the same damaging dynamic even so
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not my first reaction to this information as i learned it during the intermission of challengers (yes i finally went to see it) and i was having a lowkey breakdown through the intermission and the beginning of the second half a little bit but ummm: well of fucking course i literally dont deserve anything
#why did i even try this hard. i dont think i deserve anything tbh#dont mind me sounding dramatic im actually fine like lol#im sad but ok but also like. i got used to being a failure and a disappointment this last year so#i feel very tired now. it wasnt a bad day overall and im happy i decided against going alone today#bc i wouldve literally ended up crying in public if i was alone lmfao#ah. ahhhhh :/ i really really really was hoping for a better outcome#stupid girl as always#anyway i really am fine i just need to be dramatic for a moment. i truly do not deserve anything i get ever im sorry#if anyone read until this point and wondering what the fuck couldve happened that got me like this#well it's truly not that important in the grand scheme of things and im being stupid#got wait listed for another scholarship lmao </3#truly stupid and foolish of me to even think from the start that i could do this lmao#what's even more stupid is im still like well. well 🤠 hey maybe 🤗#i just know im going to be feeling extremely guilty for even existing even if i end up being able to go at this point lmao#and it's so stupid to even write all this. over something like this when people have real problems and stuff lmao#truly what did i think make me worthy of this chance im so not special and dont deserve this etc etc#all this negative self talk and i will still be sleeping like 😴😴😴 still hoping for the best dont worry#and that's because im stupid#🗒#i will drink tea this day has been lacking tea so critically :/
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Toji who leaves hickeys all over you so often that you have to push him away when you start looking like you fought an octopus.
"Toji, you know these aren't always gonna be so small. They're gonna end up looking like bruises. Just look at the ones you already left."
"Mhm," he hums, already leaving another one on your shoulder blade, releasing your skin with a wet smack of his lips. He rubs his spit into the mark like it's some sort of salve that'll make it last longer.
"I'm fine with these," you say, looking at all the one's he left on your chest and below. "but my neck... i'm running out of makeup, baby. I won't be able to cover them if you keep this up."
"Then don't." He would just love that. Despite how nonchalant he sounds about it, it's a highly recommended suggestion. He would genuinely love it if you walked around with his marks all over your neck. People will automatically know that you already have someone you get freaky with.
"I have to go to work sometime. I wouldn't be able to take having my neck stared at by everyone I talk to. No more neck hickeys."
He nears your neck, again. The second you say he can't put another mark on it, he spots a clear area and leans in, lightly pressing his lips against it.
"Tojiii," you whine, leaning forward, away from him. "Leave it alone."
"But, it's clear. It's lonely without being marked like the rest of your neck." He scoots forward again, putting his enormous hands on your waist to pull you close. "I'll be quick. Just-"
"Mm-mm. No," you interrupt, brushing his hands off of you.
"I might just die if you don't let me do this, ma."
"Really?" You raise your brows in disbelief.
"Really," he responds, so confidently.
You scoff. "You're so dramatic. You won't die if you don't get to suck on my neck."
"Who knows? I might spontaneously collapse because of it. Weirder, more unexplainable things have happened."
He's so dumb sometimes. Your hunk is absolutely ridiculous, and yet you find yourself weighing towards his point in this.
"Would marking up that blank space actually cure you?" You feel as silly as him for asking the question.
"Who's to say?"
You tilt your head and deadpan. "Right. I guess i'll take my chances and just keep the random patch of unmarked skin on my neck."
"Hey, that doesn't mean we can't try. Come on, now."
You groan and roll your eyes before making your way back to him. He cups your cheeks, smirking as he looks into your eyes, before turning your head to expose the blank area on your neck.
"It's a reaaally good spot, doll. I think i'm gonna make it."
You huff, unable to look at him because of the way your head is turned. You feel his tongue slide over your neck, the gesture transitioning to his lips kissing the area and then it feels sharp. His lips leave a stinging sensation with every second that they stay on you.
"Ow, fuck, you vampire. It feels like you're actually trying to suck the blood out of me." You wince. "Are you done?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm done." He admires his masterpiece and smirks with pride. You have an entire collar of hickeys that he put on you, and the newest one looks mean.
"You look pretty. Could eat you up, mama." He swipes at the new mark with his thumb, looking at the color that will remain on your skin for the next few days.
"I can tell. You already devoured me. You're insane. Just look at all of this," you say, running your hand over your kiss stained neck.
"I was just nibbling on you," he speaks, into your jaw, before smoothly laying you down, onto the bed. "Just wanted a little taste," he says, taking your hands in his and pinning them above your head. "Am I really insane for that?"
"Um..." you laugh, making your flustered state obvious. "Yes?"
"Damn." He gives you a long, deep kiss, that makes you forget what you were talking about. "You think i'm crazy?" You hum, and he does it again.
"Haven't you played with me enough? I feel like i'm some chew toy for you." You giggle, feeling his lips on your cheek, trailing towards your jaw.
He hums, dismissively. "Found more blank space."
#toji#fushiguro toji#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu toji#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#toji x y/n#fushiguro toji x reader#toji fluff#jjk fushiguro#jjk drabbles#jjk scenarios#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen scenarios#jjk#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk fluff
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the thought of being fucked full-nelson style by sukuna while sitting on his throne won’t leave my mind
☆ ໋𓈒 tags. fem! reader, tf! sukuna, full nelson, size diff + size kinks, dirty talk, unprotected, brēeding, mentions of tummy bulge, ( little one, princess, brat . . ) mdni.
“hn. how pathetic,” the notorious demon snickers, baring a single fang as he watches the tip of his swollen angered cock disappear between your runny folds. your thighs shook instantaneously, and he’s lazily slouched back on his throne. a bawled up fist rests near his chin as he watches you with crimson eyes filled of nothing but pure amusement and a mocking head tilt. “don’t make me fall asleep, now. you said you could take me ‘n you’re not even halfway in, princess.”
you bite the inside of your cheek at his playful taunts — so annoying, he just wouldn’t shut up. “ ‘m trying, ‘kuna,” you moan, the stretch of his throbbing cockhead making the center of your mouth salivate. the sleeves of his kimono were slightly ruffled from you tugging on it. he’s got the smuggest grin as your legs part themselves just a bit further. seconds go by before you sigh, slumping into his chest. “help me, ‘kuna. please.”
“so easy to give up,” he mumbles in a gruff tone, bringing one of his big hands to pat the back of your head. you lean into his touch, and as you’re so close to him—you’re engulfed by his natural loud musk. “finee,” he sharply adds, and you gasp once he turns your body around, positioning you in such a way. you’re still placed on his lap but he grabs both of your legs, pulling them upward. “i’ll help you, little one. now now, lie back ‘n allow your king to give you a nice ‘lil stretch.”
your mouth slightly drops, dramatically going agape once he restrains you in a safe manner . .
sukuna’s got you taking his heavy cock again, but this time, you feel the stretch reach everywhere.
he’s got two pairs of arms locking behind your head with the other two clinging onto your thighs. a few sharp nails dig into the fat of your skin, leaving a plethora of marks he’d want to kiss over later. “fuck,” he grunts, hearing the squelching whimpers of your sweet cunt. everything’s slow, it’s as if time stood still as you’re trying to take him. you swallow a lump near the back of your throat that seemed to be growing every second.
the demon sat underneath you was big—he liked pounding you ruthlessly in full nelson because more than anything, he loved seeing you stretched.
the dumb sounds you make, it rings through his ears. speaking of, he gets up close to the lobe of your ear, flicking his forked tongue against it. “s- sukuna,” you whine, and with a ‘pop’, you felt your ass grind right into his lap. already, he’s molding a tiny tummy bulge near the center of your stomach. he’s so deep, once he starts, it’s practically over for your limps. “ngh, ‘s big, ‘kuna.”
“keh, obviously. the perfect size for you, princess.” he groans, tightening his grip just a tad bit against your legs. a hand of his feels the bulging spot near the center of your tummy before he hums. “ ‘kuna’s riiiight fuckin’ here, brat.”
he’s got you in a secure lock. his arms felt warm, and through your blurred peripherals, you glance at his ancient cursed markings that paint all across his bulky, burly arms.
so big, you’re already drooling as you’re bouncing on his cock. the crushing compressing weight of both bodies—mainly yours, causes his throne to be more rickety. it’s whining and groaning out creaks each time your speed against his lap increases, and he’s practically treating you like a doll.
a porcelain doll he didn’t want to ever break.
at least, not yet. .
“fuckin’ nasty girl,” he huffs, one of his hands going toward your face. he smears a palm over your mouth, your pouring drool that streams from the corners of your lips landing on his hand. he’s got a wolfish smile, hearing your babbled whimpers get louder as he’s stretching you silly. “i spoil you too much, spoil this sloppy pussy too much too, hmph.”
“mmph. suku— sukunaaa,” your sweet stammers of moans grew more bouncy as you bucked your swiveling hips further onto him. it didn’t take long before your raw vocal chords start to die out, growing strained and weak. you dramatically elongate each syllable of his name that streams from your lips as his cock plummets into you full. the sweltering hot crown of his shaft kisses all around your gummy walls, reaching so deep that you’re practically yanking roughly on the edges of his silky kimono sleeve. “fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum, ‘kuna.”
a throaty chortle from sukuna makes your cunt twitch as he holds you upright — so cute, he’s so much bigger than you, merely dislocating your limbs with a few sets of his arms. he barely had to do anything and yet you were easily overpowered by his body. your mouth hangs open as he’s shoving such thick inches in and out of your slobbering pussy, coating his entire base with your cascading slick. “are you asking or are you just sayin’ y’r gonna cum, little one?”
the insides of your thighs were so sticky, already sticking together and you’re a babbling mess as his dick continues to make you stupid. “lemme cum please, ‘kuna. please, pretty please. stuffin’ me so full, fuuuck.”
“there’s those sweet manners,” he purrs in a husky tone—the back of his lips meets near your ear, giving it a soft peck as you continue to move. you feel a swarm of fluttering butterflies circle inside the pits of your tummy, but you knew that could also be the bulge of his cock constantly rutting deep into your clingy insides. “ah,” he snarls, his tip thrashing vigorously against a certain spongey spot. right there, you let off a sweet squeal as his sloppy thrusts start to punctuate again and again until your candied coated moans reverberate throughout the walls of his regal royal chambers. “fuckin’ shit,” he hisses, and as your hips continue to slam onto him, he’s realizing he’s coming close too.
your eyes were droopy as he’s still got you in such a lewd position — he’s so strong, proudly holding you up to where you’re just a doll bouncing on his cock. his throne remains wailing out moans of its own from the heavy masses of weight jerking on top of the furniture. he’s balls deep into your core, feeling how sweetly your cunt’s being massaged.
“c’mon, messy girl. give it t’ me then. make a sloppy mess on your king, princess,” and his sable-darkened nails gently scrape against your skin. it’s almost soothing, he’s got you in a tight safe chokehold hold and you’re basically chasing your own breath.
you whimper as his warm breaths tickle such a carnal itch in your brain. sukuna allows for you to bounce on him quicker and harder until eventually, your release came. your sweet little cry of finishing rapture was adorable—he hears how even after you’ve creamed all down his cock from the salacious skin slapping, your irregular breaths never falter. “ugh,” he grumbles, feeling his own release eventually match up as if it was right on cue. he bellows out a rough animalistic growl before he’s cummimg, shooting blanks. satiny ropes shoot into you, its balmy hot temperature making you gasp. it’s thick and slimy, pumping you full to the brim so good that it even leaks out.
he loosens his taut grip on your numb legs that were positioned in the air before he sighs—it’s still coming out, his angered tip was tucked inside your pussy as you’re just defeated, collapsed back on his chest.
“good girl,” he pants, hearing the erotic sloshes of his own cum continuing to spurt and ooze deep inside you. now, you’re an entire puddled mess. he creeps a broad open hand between your thighs, dragging a thumb down your slobbering slick to gather up a drop of his filthy dribbling cum. “my, my, look at thaaat,” he coos lowly, and you moan once he resumes, dragging a plump thumb down your sloppy cunt. a bit of his own mess soaks onto his finger before he brings it up to his mouth, lapping at your fresh juices, getting a taste himself. “mhm, she’s as sweetest as she’s ever been,” and you let off a gasp once another one of his palms rudely spanks your wet cunt.
“messy baby.”
#★vegasbaby.#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen smut#sukuna ryomen x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#female reader
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katsuki is pissed the fuck off.
it doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell. whenever he's angry he makes it extremely obvious and most of the time it becomes everyone's problem. but it's weird to you because he was fine like, 5 seconds ago.
until 5 seconds ago he'd gotten back from buying groceries for the class and kissed you on the forehead as a greeting. he'd even brought the oranges you'd begged him to get last minute because you'd randomly been craving them, even after saying he wouldn't (but you both knew he would.)
but now he's pissed, and you have no idea why.
he's not saying anything either, but he keeps huffing and clicking his tongue every once in a while, fist pressed hard against his cheek and his jaw locked tightly chewing on the little piece of the own orange he'd been eating and finished a bit ago.
you keep munching on your piece of orange as you stare at him, and then you poke at his cheek. he grunts, shooing your hand away and leaning away from you.
"what's got you so grouchy ?" you tilt your head with a raised brow, he scoffs. readjusting his leg on the couch. you fight the urge to roll your eyes. he's ignoring you now ?
"katsuki."
silence.
"katsukiii-"
"it's nothin'." he growls, huffing through his nose.
this time you do roll your eyes "sure, that's why you're being all cranky." slowly, you inch towards his spot on the couch where he'd secluded himself away. he hasn't left the room and he doesn't react to you getting closer besides a slight side eye, so you know he's probably just being dramatic.
his nose scrunches up at your wording and he pretends he doesn't notice you lifting his arm up to lay in them. he doesn't comment on how he almost immediately changes his position to make you more comfortable.
"m'not cranky." he spits, eyebrows contorting and a pout settles onto his face "not a baby."
could've fooled me you think, but you decide against actually saying it. you're smile widens when his eyes narrow once he meets yours, he pinches your side "quit starin' at me."
"katsukiii. what's got your panties in a bunch ?" you coo and katsuki gives you the most repulsed look you've ever seen him make.
"don't ever say that ever again, i'm so fucking serious." he groans at your giggling, leaning his head away and shoving his palm in your face to get away from you like he couldn't just leave the room instead of actively pulling you closer to him. really, could've fooled you.
"ya didn't let me peel yer orange for you.." he mumbles grumpily.
you blink up at him "..what ?"
eyebrows furrowing just at the memory, he continues "was gone for three seconds to put away the damn groceries an' here you go, prancing around me, throwin' your peel away in the trash right in front of me."
oh, wow.
"katsuki. really ?"
"you know i always do it for you. yn." he sasses.
"that's why you were so mad at me ?" your giggles muffled by him pressing your head into his shoulder in a headlock.
"you were busy !" you fight weakly.
"so ? if you've got shit to do you come to me, i woulda done it in two seconds. peeling oranges doesn't take that long, dummy."
you keep giggling as you try to fight him off before you hear him snort and he releases you.
as stupid as it may sound, katsuki isn't the best when it comes to letting his affection be known through words, so you know how much acts of services, as small as they are, mean to him.
you sometimes forget how much he loves to do little things for you. throwing away your little candy wrappers, or already unwrapping your ice cream for you. or absentmindedly fixing up and sorting out your desk, or bookshelf when he sees your manga out of order or sticking out too much. the little ways he cares for you make your heart flutter. you smile up at him and offer him a piece of orange. he scowls at it.
"don't want your stupid orange." he mutters childishly, but you don't have enough time to pull away to eat it yourself before he grips your wrist. bringing it up to his mouth to eat it anyway. you roll your eyes with a fond smile.
"i'll be sure to leave the orange peeling to you from now on." you jest. he grunts in approval, softly chewing on the slice of juicy orange before patting your wrists, signalling he wants more. and you snort, but you still hand him another piece. his warm grip on your wrist remains even though he could very well just take it out of your hands. he hums again when the taste kicks in.
"you better, i mean it. otherwise it's your funeral."
thank my lovely lovely moot @kovu-bunnbunn for this lovely idea ! tysm twin ! :3
#i lub him ur honor#hes so stupid n annoying i wanna rip him apart#back in the katsu groove yall more is otw#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugo fluff#bakugou imagine#bakugou x reader#katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou fluff#bakugo drabble#bakugou drabble#katsuki x you#katsuki x y/n#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugou x you#bakugo x female reader#bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n
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like a pornstar | c.s. |
chris sturniolo x fem!reader
summary: when y/n, chris' best friend, confesses that she has never finished during sex, he decides to change that
warnings: smut; oral (fem receiving); unprotected p in v; dirty talk; established friendship; squirting; 18+
notes: back again with a friends with benefits smut (shh im manifesting). i hope the chris girlies enjoy, and matt girlies don't worry my next one shot is for u ;) love y'all <33333
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“Hey! You’re gonna eat all the popcorn! Give me some.” I exclaimed before snatching the half eaten bag of popcorn from Chris’ grasp. He tried to say something in a rebuttal, but all he got through his mouthful of popcorn was garbled words and a slight spray of kernels. “Oh god, you’re foul.” I said jokingly before wrapping my leg around his to lighten my words. “Just hush, I can’t hear the show.”
Chris and I had been best friends since elementary school, and had always had a bond like no other. When he had moved out to California a few years ago, I had really struggled with the loss of seeing him practically everyday. But since then, I had been able to come out and visit him multiple times, and it was so exciting to have him show me the new life that him and his brothers had built for themselves on the other side of the country.
In the past, each time I had visited him in Los Angeles the weather had been amazing, so I had forced Chris to explore all over the city with me. However, this visit had been nothing but rain, so him and I had done little more than what we were doing right now: curling up under the covers with some snacks and a couple joints, binge watching all of our favourite shows from high school. We were currently re-watching Euphoria — one of my all time favourite shows — as a light trickle of rain acted as background noise.
As we worked through our snacks, the scene where Maddy and Nate’s relationship dynamic is described played. I popped a handful of popcorn in my mouth, relishing in the nostalgic feeling that the show brought me, as the scene continued on to describe how Maddy watched porn to study how she should look and sound during sex. As the character arched her back on her bed, her eyes plastered to a device playing porn, I let out a small chuckle.
“What?” Chris turned to me with a confused smile. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” I replied, shaking my head and shoving more popcorn into my mouth to stifle my ridiculous laughter. “Brooo, tell me.” He whined, grabbing my shoulder and shaking it jokingly. I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. “Oh my god, fine! I was just laughing because I used to do that.” I finally responded, and Chris turned to me and raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Wait, what?” He brought a fistful of candy to his mouth. “I used to study porn too, not to get off on it or anything, just to like know what I was supposed to do.” I admitted, feeling my cheeks grow warm as Chris just stared blankly at me.
Finally, Chris blinked a few times, pulling himself out of his blank stare to resume eating snacks. “I don’t understand that honestly,” He began, reaching his hand into the popcorn bag between my legs, “I feel like when you’re in the moment all of those sounds and movements and stuff come naturally, don’t they?” I shrugged before responding. “Not for me, to be honest. I’ve never really had any sort of sexual interaction that made me feel good enough to act and sound like a porn star.” I chuckled, keeping the conversation lighthearted. This wasn’t the first time Chris and I had talked about our sexual experiences, so I felt comfortable being honest with him.
But when I fixed my gaze back onto him, I was met with a confused expression. “So does that mean you’ve never…” He dragged out his sentence, seemingly too afraid to complete it, so I saved him the trouble and answered his unfinished question with a solemn shake of my head. At this, his eyebrows shot up in what seemed to be total shock, complete with a dropped jaw. “You’re not serious, Y/n.” He said simply, and I once again shrugged my shoulders. “I mean it’s pretty common for girls to not be able to finish during sex, you know that.” I replied, to which he titled his head to the side and looked off into the distance.
“I guess so, but I’ve personally never ran into that problem before.” He replied, a cheeky smile taking over his face, and I rolled my eyes. “Oh Jesus, well too bad not all men are the Christopher Sturniolo.” I joked, unintentionally stroking his ego before refocusing my gaze on the show. The room was silent for a brief moment, both of us back to watching the show, before Chris spoke up again. “I just think that’s really fucked up. Sex should make both people involved feel good.” I wrapped my leg tighter around his. “Well aren’t you a crowd pleaser.” I joked. Turning to once again face him, I was expecting to be met with his classic grin. But instead, his face was serious; his mouth was set in a straight line and his blue eyes had darkened.
His expression was one I rarely saw, but it made my stomach tighten subconsciously. My throat suddenly felt extremely dry, and I couldn’t speak. My breath hitched when Chris brought a hand under the covers and placed it gently on my bare thigh, rubbing small circles into the skin. And my head began to spin when he shifted his body so that he was completely facing me. “You know, I bet I could make you sound like a porn star.” His poker face was finally replaced with a smirk, this one much more sinister than the one that I usually saw cross his face. He used his hand on my thigh to guide my legs open before brushing a finger just barely against my clothed heat; causing me to gasp. He leaned closer to my frame, already quivering in anticipation, and nibbled gently at my earlobe before whispering.
“Let me make you feel good, Y/n.”
He kept his mouth right there against my ear as he waited for a response, and I could feel his rapid breaths against my skin. My brain was in shambles, and I couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Chris and I had been best friends for so long, but not once had things turned sexual. This was completely uncharted territory for me, and I couldn’t imagine it ending well. But, his hand that was resting in between my trembling thighs and his whispered proposition had already caused my panties to grow damp, so I threw all of my sensibility away by grabbing his jaw, drawing his face to mine, and crashing my lips onto his.
Immediately, Chris worked his lips against mine. They moved in sync as his tongue slipped into my mouth with ease; dancing around my own and filling me with more desire. He brought his other hand under the covers to grab onto my other thigh, where he squeezed harshly before using his grip to pull me up on top of him. Still attacking my mouth with his, he rubbed his hands up and down my body as I straddled him, taking care to focus his attention on my more sensitive parts.
He broke the kiss briefly to pull my oversized t-shirt over my head, before taking a moment to admire my bare chest in his direct line of sight. Without hesitation, he attached his mouth to one of my tits, nibbling and swirling his tongue around my sensitive nipples; causing my body to break out in goosebumps from the sensation. After he took his time on the first, he moved his mouth onto the second, and the new contact caused me to subconsciously grind my pelvis against his thigh; eliciting a moan from me. My erotic sound caused his eyes to shoot open, looking up at my face, before he detached his mouth from my tit to speak. “Real moan?” He asked, his lips swollen, and I nodded my head before grinding my hips against him once more. “F-feels good.” I mumbled, and at that he readjusted himself so that he was sitting up against the headboard; giving me more stability.
“Then keep doing that. Wanna see you feeling good.” He replied, shifting my body so that my core could press right up against the highest point of his thigh. I didn’t hesitate long before resuming my movements, this time moving at a much faster pace; losing myself to the sheer pleasure that the friction of his pants granted me. Chris’ mouth reattached to my nipples, but his eyes never left mine as he took in all of my contorted facial expressions and soft moans. He allowed his lips to travel along my chest up to my neck, where he suckled gently before muttering. “I don’t want you to fake anything, baby, just want you to tell me when it feels good and when it doesn’t. Okay?” I nodded my head frantically, squinting my eyes from the overwhelming pleasure I was feeling.
I looked down to where my body was writhing against him, and even through my shorts and panties I had left a dark patch from my arousal against his grey sweats. Rolling my eyes to the back of my head in bliss, I had never before grown that wet during sex before. I felt my legs begin to weaken around his thigh, and an overwhelming feeling begin to bubble up inside of me. I knew it was my orgasm approaching, but I was hit with a sudden wave of nervousness that was preventing me from reaching it.
“C-Chris, I can’t,” I panted out, and his eyes were immediately on mine. “You can’t what?” He replied, gripping my ass with both hands and helping me grind myself against him. “C-can’t finish.” I replied honestly, feeling my eyes well up with frustrated tears. I had never felt this good in bed with someone before, and still, I couldn’t get myself to cum. “Hey hey, it’s okay,” Chris used his grip on me to stop my movements completely, “It’s an overwhelming feeling, it’s sometimes hard to give in to it.” He brought a hand up to my cheek and stroked it affectionately. “Lie down here.” He patted the space in the bed where I had previously been, and I obliged, resting my head against the pillow.
Once I settled myself, Chris crawled on top of me, resting his weight on one arm. He began kissing me again, this time much slower than the first, and once my heart rate began to slow I took it upon myself to deepen the kiss; pulling his bottom lip gently with my teeth. This elicited a deep moan from Chris, and I felt him grind his clothed member against my core before dragging his mouth down my jaw and neck; leaving harsh kisses in its trail. I watched through droopy eyelids as Chris’ body traveled down my own, and my breathing increased once again when he reached the waistband of my shorts. He toyed with the band for a moment, slipping two fingers under the material before looking back up at me.
“I just want you to relax, lay there, and tell me when you feel good. Can you do that Y/n?” His voice was soft, but it was the unmistakable undertone of gruff arousal laced through it that caused my stomach to flip. I nodded quickly, bringing a hand to his forehead and brushing a few stray hairs back. “Okay.” I replied, causing him to smirk before slowly pulling my shorts and thong down my legs. Once my clothing was completely discarded, Chris encouraged my knees to bend and spread my legs open; exposing my dripping heat completely. “Hmm, so pretty Y/n.” He said lowly, taking in the glistening folds just centimetres from his face.
I watched as he dropped soft kisses along my outer folds before using his hands to spread me open slightly. His mouth inched closer and closer to my aching core, and when he finally connected to it I released a shaky moan. Immediately, he used his tongue to expertly manipulate my clit, causing me to see stars almost instantly. It was clear by his movements that he knew what he was doing, and I had to grip onto his messy curls in order to keep myself in place as he continued. “Is that good baby?” He asked against my bundle of nerves, moving one of his hands from my folds down to my entrance, teasing it in circles as he waited for a response.
“S-so good Chrissy.” I managed to get out before he reattached his lips, this time slowly plunging a digit into me as he continued; causing my hips to buck. “Shh, stay still honey.” He mumbled, still working his tongue and fingers in sync against my heat. The combination of his tongue against my clit and his finger plunging up into my g-spot was staggering, and I was once again feeling the undeniable signs of an upcoming orgasm. Every inch of my skin felt like it was being set on fire, and the pressure in my lower stomach was so intense, it felt like I was going to pee.
I had reached orgasms on my own before, but none had ever had a build up as intense as the one I was currently feeling with Chris. I felt like I could explode, but still, I was struggling to let go once again. “C-Chris, I d-don’t think I — I don’t think I c-can do it.” I cried out, gripping onto his hair like my life depended on it. At this, Chris added a second finger and increased his speed. “Yes you can baby, I know you can. Just breathe and let your body do what it knows to do.” I squeezed my eyes shut from the pressure, and did as he said and released shaky breaths. His movements had the same level of intensity as before, but there was an unspoken level of desperation to them now; clear indication that he wanted to get me there.
Even though it seemed impossible, the pressure inside of me kept getting stronger and stronger. My legs were shaking on either side of his head, and my breaths came out as guttural moans. I felt my body detach from my brain, and I knew I had lost all control over what was going to happen. Just then, the strongest orgasm I had ever felt completely engulfed me, and I could do nothing but cry out in pleasure. My back arched off of the bed, overwhelmed by the extreme sensation. Feverish, strings of erotic notes fell from my mouth, and they could barely be heard over the ringing in my ears.
Mouth agape, I watched in awe as the pressure in my stomach was finally relieved by a rush of fluid shooting from my core. At this, Chris murmured “Oh fuck.” before detaching his lips from my clit and swiftly rubbing it; spraying my fluid all over his face and exposed tongue. My orgasm rippled through me like a tsunami, and left me in a figurative and literal puddle once it died down. Once he drank up all my juices, Chris planted a soft kiss against my clit before dragging his body up mine.
Once he was face to face with me, he gave me a deep kiss. “How was that?” He whispered with a grin on his wet face. Still catching my breath, all I could do was nod. He played with my hair for a moment, tranquility clear on his face, before he suddenly shifted his weight and began climbing off of me. “W-wait.” I said, grabbing hold of his waistband and stopping his movements. He looked down at me with a confused expression, and I wordlessly moved my hand to his crotch, where I was met with what seemed like a painfully hard member. “You’re not gonna fuck me?” I asked, batting my eyelashes innocently as I watched his taken aback expression.
In the blink of an eye, his face darkened once again and he returned to his position above me. “You want me to?” He asked, his face buried in my neck where he peppered it with soft kisses. “Mhmm.” I hummed, using my hand to palm him through his sweats. At that, Chris didn’t hesitate to pull his pants down, leaving his cock exposed. I gasped at its size that had been somewhat disguised when it was still concealed in his sweats, but began pumping my hand up and down as he shuddered in pleasure.
Attaching his lips back onto mine, Chris grabbed onto his shaft and lined it up with my opening. He slid it up and down my folds a few times to collect whatever was left of my previous orgasm, before slowly sliding into me. I gasped at the feeling of my walls stretching around his impressive girth, and we both moaned in unison once he bottomed out. He stayed still for a moment, allowing me to adjust to him, before he began slamming his hips into me.
With his forehead resting against mine, he watched me as I contorted my face into expressions of pleasure, relishing in the feeling of being filled by him. His gruff breathing and occasional deep moans were like music to my ears, and I dug my nails into his bare shoulders to keep him close. “Fuck, your pussy feels so good around me. Not gonna last long.” He groaned, using one of his arms to wrap my leg around his waist. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, and I felt his member slam into my g-spot repeatedly; causing my stomach to fill with that familiar sensation. “Oh god Chris, you’re s-so big.” My voice was coming out squeaky as he continued to pound into me, and he released a harsh moan in response.
I lost myself in the waves of pleasure as they hit me, growing closer to my second orgasm with each of his powerful thrusts. Chris’ gaze on me was so full of lust — clenched jaw, droopy eyes, lower lip trapped in between his teeth — I would have collapsed from its magnitude if I wasn’t already lying down. His motion suddenly shifted from one that was hard and fast to one that was deep and slow, and I couldn’t help but release sharp gasps on each thrusts.
I could tell that I was close to my second orgasm, but he was closer. His breathing was growing more and more rapid, his pace was sloppier, and beads of sweat were dripping down his forehead. As if he was reading my mind, he moaned out. “I-I’m close, want you to cum with me.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head, his words already getting me closer to my high, but I knew I needed to get there faster.
Reaching between us, I found my clit and began rubbing it vigorously. Chris’ eyes followed my hand, and when he realized what I was doing he smirked proudly. “Atta girl.” My action seemed to give him a bit more energy, as his movements began picking up the pace once again; and I found myself on the edge of another orgasm. “Ah fuck, Chris, gonna cum again.” I cried out through my gasps for air just before my second orgasm hit me like a freight train. I felt my walls contract around his swollen member, and that was enough for him to reach his high as well.
Gripping tightly onto my shoulder, Chris plunged his twitching cock in and out of me; driving both of us through our orgasms. I gasped when I felt his fluid shoot deep into me, and savoured the verbal confirmation of his pleasure in my ear. Our moans flew from our mouths in harmony, and it was only once his body stilled above me that I removed my hand from my clit.
We stayed in that position for what could have been hours, catching our breath and falling into the lethargic temperament that always came after sex. Finally, Chris lifted his weight off of me and slid his softening dick out from my core, offering me an apprehensive smile. He stood up and walked into his washroom, coming back over to the bed with a towel to help clean up the mess in between my legs before doing the same to his member. Once I no longer felt like a bowl of jello, I sat up on the bed beside him.
“Well?” He asked, his tone playful as he wiggled his eyebrows awaiting my response. I rolled my eyes before grabbing my top and throwing it over my head. “Would you believe me if I said I faked all of that?” I asked, unable to keep the smile that was toying with the corners of my mouth at bay. He blew air out of his mouth and looked up at the ceiling. “Absolutely not.” He replied, and I laughed. “I hate to gas you up like this, but that really was amazing.” I finally said honestly, resting my head on his bare shoulder.
He chuckled before grabbing my hand and stroking it gently. “Glad to be of service.” He replied, removing his hand from mine and instead wrapping his arm around me completely. “You turned into my little porn star there for a minute.” He followed it up by making high pitched moan sounds, mocking me and breaking the wave of silence that had followed his last comment. I laughed, lifting my head off of his shoulder and coming face-to-face with his goofy smile. “You ever use that against me in the future and I will bite your head off.” I replied, shoving his shoulder gently. “I won’t, swear. But you can use me again in the future if you wish. Y’know, in case you ever want to cum like that again.”
My jaw dropped at his filthy words, but I couldn’t help but feel heat flood to my core once again. Smirking, I raised one quizzical eyebrow. “One more?” I asked, and watched as his face was overtaken by a smirk that mirrored my own. “Lay down and put your legs on my shoulders.”
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#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x you#the sturniolos#the sturniolo triplets
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arg
#just feeling very resentful#that when im stable im only ever just Stable and not like#happy. or even comfortable? even if something good is happening all i can think about and worry about is when it'll have to end#and it's not as if i'm even stable for that long in the first place?#idk how to even word how i feel 90 percent of the time in a way that accurately sums it up but it's not like. Good and Fine#sorr y this will sound so dramatic and emo i just don't know if happiness is possible for me really#i have spent all day lying around feeling paralysed by this feeling that something terrible is going to happen and idk whta to do with myse#but idk who to talk to because i feel like if i talk to ppl now they will just worry or feel burdened by it esp bc of The Thing#idk !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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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
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#leona kingscholar x reader#leona kingscholar#leona x reader#leona x you#twst leona#leona kingscholar x you#leona#twst leona x you#1k event
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