bakuhve

[bakuhve]

[Silent Musings]

Synopsis: Floyd thinks about his day and you as you sleep beside him.

Genre: Fluff

Notes: Lots of predatory/prey wording, written from Floyd's perspective, tried to write GN! Reader, Yuu!Reader

Pairing: Floyd Leech x Reader

When Floyd opened his eyes, the dorm room was still unlit and engulfed in a silent black shroud. Despite that, he had no problem seeing everything. Being from the Coral Sea, his eyesight was used to the inky depths, ready to fight anything that dared lurk in the deep or catch any unsuspecting prey.

Maybe that was why his gaze immediately shot to your face—a foolish little shrimp that dropped their guard in the midst of a blood-hungry predator. 

Floyd’s singular golden eye gleamed in the dark as he laid completely still. His body was covered underneath the tousled sheets that offered no warmth, just a vague feeling of something on his body. No, the only warmth that he greedily accepted was radiating off your sleeping body.

A silly little shrimp that fell asleep in his presence. 

Deep in his blood, the sight of such easy prey brought out his primitive urges. His long limbs longed to reach out, wrapping around their body with a suffocatingly tight grip. His lips longed to stretch wide, showing off razor teeth, dripping with saliva. His jaw longed to unhinge, ready to pounce and pierce into soft flesh and shred. 

Yet it was you, the magicless prefect. And because of that, the moray eel continued to lie beside you without a single twitch in his muscles. Just watching and drinking in every little detail he could commit to memory. 

Like how your chest heaved slowly with every breath, a soft snore escaping your parted lips every few seconds. Or how your arms wrapped around the decently sized shrimp plush you bought for him on a trip into town one weekend (it was admittedly goofy-looking with the uneven eyes and flimsy felt legs and antennas, but you gave it to him. So he sleeps with it every night since receiving it, ignoring Jade’s teasing remarks). Or how your eyes fluttered rapidly underneath your eyelids.

What were you dreaming of? Maybe you were dreaming of going through another chaotic day at NRC, running into some trouble because of someone in your shoal. Maybe you were dreaming of being back in your world, reliving some memories before you arrived at Twisted Wonderland.

Was it a good dream? He could only assume based on the soft expression on your face.

Were you dreaming of him maybe? Sevens, Floyd hoped you were dreaming of him.

It was pitiful how a tiny creature like you could make his ravenous heart thump quickly in his chest.

But it happened. Gradual, unassuming, and unexpected.

The first time Floyd saw you at the orientation ceremony, he thought that the whole experience was hilarious—the way you floundered about, incredibly lost and frazzled at the chaos surrounding you had him nearly doubled over in laughter. He brushed it off like it was the end of it, but, to his surprise, you stuck around. Rumors of the magicless human and the trouble that followed in your path spread like wildfire in NRC, yet he could never quite get a glimpse of you, aside from that one time you were spying on him and Jade with the rest of Heartslabyul guys. 

But then the final exams came around and you were suddenly among all the sea anemones, begging to help your reckless shoal. And everything fell into place from there. Your presence became more steady, and he suddenly noticed you around more and more (or was it that he subconsciously seeked you out instead?). While you were most definitely afraid of him at the beginning, at some point the frightful jolts eased away into excited hops and something in him shifted during that time.

His ever-swaying mood swings became more manageable when you were around. Floyd could be in the worst of moods from whatever got him down, but just the sight of you from across the hall or courtyard had his heart all aflutter and he wasted no time scooping you in his arms right then and there. Jade and Azul noticed this change right away—and maybe that’s why you were here in his bed today.

For whatever reason, the world was out to get him that day. At first, some guy from Savanaclaw scuffed his shoes right after he had cleaned and polished them the night prior. It was fine till Floyd got caught shortly afterwards with bloody knuckles and a battered beastman, so came the long lecture and write-up for detention. Then, Floyd was getting hounded on by professors left and right about missing assignments and failed tests. What tipped it all off was when he got paired up with some squeamish frosh in potionology, and the Scarabian student was so fidgety that he dumped the wrong amount of dawn-weed and subsequently made the potion blow up in their faces.

Once the bell rang and he knocked some teeth out of the freshman, Floyd retreated back into his dorm room with a glare that had everyone scattering. Already deciding to skip the rest of the day, the eel fell onto his bed and bundled underneath the covers. 

He didn’t know how long he laid there in the dark, just seething and wringing his shrimp plush between his fingers, but the door creaked open and shut within a few moments. The person crept closer to his bed and Floyd already knew who it was by gait and footfalls.

“Floyd?” And there was your pretty voice. “Can I lay next to you?”

Wordlessly, he shimmied towards one side of the bed and you seemed to get the hint. You simply took off your shoes and gently lifted the blanket to lay at his side. You didn’t look frightened by his scowl nor did you tense at his unblinking, glowing eyes. Instead, you, the little shrimpy, just smiled softly and gently ran your fingers through his hair. It was like the tension in his shoulders ebbed away and he let his eyes shut to bask in the affection.

So that’s where he was now: Laying in the dark and watching you sleep with his heart beating sweetly for you. The once roaring and angry tsunami that crashed inside of him had quieted into tender lull waves, lapping at his heart. 

Again, it was pitiful how such prey could reduce his heart to mush. But, Sevens, were you the sweetest thing in his eyes. A little feeble shrimp with the prettiest eyes and kissable smile.

Oh, how Floyd wants to dress you up with chains of pearls, sea glass, and coral and give you all the scales and teeth you’d want, if it meant you’d be in a symbiotic relationship with him. You’ll ease his frazzled heart and clutch his face in your gentle hands and he’ll smother you in kisses and protect you from all the other beasts out vying for a taste of you.

He’d do it all for you, and he wishes he wasn't such a coward. Like all moray eels, he has to be 100% sure you feel the same way or else he can’t will himself to make a move. 

So he’ll do what predators do best. He’ll wait. 

He’ll sit and wait. Until he gets a whiff of your reciprocated love and knows your heart beats for only the name Floyd Leech, then will he strike and cradle your bleeding heart into his own hands.

Till then, he’ll be content watching in the dark and waiting for the time to go for the kill.

[bakuhve]

Culture Shock

—ꨄ︎ “Courting ritual? What are you talking about?”

Characters: Leona, Ruggie, Floyd, Azul

Notes: courting ritual misunderstanding brainrotttt drabbles LESGOO i live for the idea of the non-human students doing what they think is obvious flirting but you blatantly misunderstanding them lmao

Leona:

—Lions show courtship by following around their intended mate, biting, and pawing. Male lions will roar to make clear their intent. Lion courtship is fairly extended

He roared, pawing at your neck. You’ve noticed this pattern in behavior for a while now. He’s been following you around, asking if you’ll be talking to anyone else any time soon.

“Good,” he’d replied when you gave him a resounding ‘no’. “I’ll have you all to myself then.

What did he want? With no verbal answers from him you’d only been left with baseless speculation.

He bit your arm. He- he bit your arm.

And he seemed proud.

“Huh?”

Rather than apologize, or declare his intentions, or whatever, Leona stuck out his own arm, staring at your with darkened, narrowed eyes.

“I think it’s time we finally stopped playin’ around,” he said, leaning his face towards your own. “Seal the deal. Say what we’re both thinking.”

You blinked at him, owlish and trying quite desperately to figure out his intentions.

“…What are we both thinking, Leona-san?”

And suddenly, the coy sort of demeanor vanished, replaced by a mixture of surprise and irritation.

After a while, he spoke up.

“You seriously didn’t know this entire time?” He grumbled. What was he talking about.

“That’s why I’m asking,” you replied. “Please explain.”

But instead of explaining, he just huffed, pouting ever so slightly as he tossed your phone onto the bed.

“Tch. Figure it out yourself,” he said.

You just stood there, absolutely dumbfounded.

What the fuck.

Ruggie:

—Male hyenas are known to repeatedly step towards and step away from their intended mate. They then present their side to be smelled. They may also cross their legs.

“I can’t believe I of all people have to tell you to take a break!” He said, pouting. But he didn’t seem too bothered, content to lounge around in your room.

Ruggie stepped towards you, arm extended.

And then he stepped forward again.

And then, again, he stepped back.

And forward again.

“What are you doing?”

“Forward, Kantokusei-Kun,” he huffed, grabbing your arm.

And then he stepped back onto the bed, crossing his legs as he sat.

“Don’t leave me hangin’ now! Join me,” he said, voice slightly breathy.

…Was this his way of getting you to rest! How considerate! Ruggie really was nicer than he let on.

You sat, and then he-

Stuck out his arm.

“Well?” He said, looking at you expectantly. “Are you gonna do it, or—?”

…

“What are you talking about?”

”What.” All of a sudden, Ruggie was beet red, half angry, half embarrassed. “You never told me you weren’t interested- don’t-“

And then he stood up, plastering a smile on his face.

“Sorry, but I got a bunch of errands to run and- ohlookit’sLeona-sanbye!”

“Wait-“

He bolted out of your room, leaving you far more confused than before.

Floyd:

—Morays often open their mouths wide to signal intent to court. They also partake in a sort of mating dance, wrapping their bodies around one another.

Floyd yawned. Again. He must’ve been getting awfully bored now, huh?

“Sorry, Floyd,” you said. “I know you don’t like hearing me talk, but-“

He yawned again, mouth opened wide to reveal both his sets of jaws.

“What gave you that idea, Koebi-Chan?” He said, giggling. “I love hearin’ you talk! Your ideas are way more interesting than anything all those stupid guppies have to offer.”

But once again, he yawned. Actions spoke louder than words, you concluded.

Seeing you look at him with uncertainty, he grinned.

“I really am serious about this, y’know,” he said. “You’ll stay interestin’ for a long time.”

And suddenly-

“Dance with me, Koebi-Chan.”

He circled around you, grabbing your arms and gracefully moving around you as if he were trying to wrap himself around your body. When you failed to react, he paused, staring at you.

“Well?” He asked.

You just sighed. He must’ve been trying really hard to stop you from rambling.

“If you’re bored, you can just say so.”

Immediately, Floyd recoiled, like he’d been doused in a bucket of water. Or maybe oil. He’d probably like being covered in water since he was a moray, after all.

“What kinda go-good small fry do you take me for?” He huffed, looking downright offended. “This is laaame. I’m leaving.”

And without an explanation, he stormed out, leaving you staring blankly from within the confines of your room, absolutely dumbfounded.

Azul:

—Octopodes often cause appearance and body language to display intent to court, changing color, showing vibrant patterns, and standing tall with their suckers extended. Males will often latch on from behind.

“You have my attention now. You’d best not waste it,” Azul murmured lowly, showing you-

His arm. It was purple. Why was it purple.

“Is- Is something wrong?” You asked. Azul stood tall, leaning in towards you. You were worried for his health by now. His arms kept changing color, and you were wondering if he was being repeatedly beat up or something.

“You know exactly what’s wrong,” he said. “I intended to wait for you to approach, but you’ve been wearing my patience terribly thin.”

What. Was he talking about. Did he want you to offer to take him to the doctor, or—?

“You’ve done your research, I’m certain,” he said. His arm turned another shade, this time a bright blue.

Suddenly, his arm wrapped around your back.

“Tell me how you feel, Kantokusei-San.”

You just stared.

“Do you want me to take you to the doctor’s office, oooor—“

“No need.” For a brief second, Azul looked disappointed, before he covered it up with a smile. “I apologize for acting so foolishly. Goodness, I don’t know what’s gotten into me!”

“What were you-“

“I’ll be going now. Please, think nothing of my sudden behavior! I’ve just been feeling a little under the weather, you see. What I did says nothing about my feelings, I assure you.”

And with that, he was gone.

…

Okay, but seriously, what was up with his arm?

[bakuhve]

Beach day | Bakugou x reader

tags : childish bakugou, established relationship, beach day, gn!reader, reader wants to chill, hyperactive bakugou

Katsuki at the beach was something else.

As big, mature and strong he wants to appear, your boyfriend cant seem to push his childish tendencies when he’s at the beach. You should just give up on the idea of relaxing on a nice sunny day because katsuki had other plans.

His peanut sized lil man brain needed to be entertained, because for him just sitting on a lounging chair under the sun was far from fun. So while you do just that, katsuki is sitting on the sand under the parasol he previously set up, legs spread around a hole he was digging for no reason other than to dig a hole.

However once he deemed the hole was deep enough for his pride, he filled it back up with sand, thus giving him nothing else to do other than to look at you with a scowl.

“ ‘s too hot” he complained, looking at you as if you could fix the temperature

“how about you go get us some ice cream” you replied, opening your eyes slightly to look at him, catching a glimpse of his sculpted back starting to get sweaty. katsuki stared at the ground at your response as if he had personal problems with it

“…shit ‘s gonna melt too fast”

Without another word, he disappeared again, leaving you with the peace and quiet you were seeking for, only to come back later with two glasses of freshly squeezed lemonade. without questioning where and how he got it, you just thanked him and took the refreshing drink.

With his poor drink abandoned by your chair, katsuki finally decided to go for a “quick” swim. and when you felt like you were slowly starting to doze off , katsuki appeared back in front of you with a proud grin, if not the proudest he has ever been.

“what the fuck is that”

“i caught a fish”

“i- yes i know ! how did u even get a fish”

“the beach.”

After even more nagging, you finally caved and decided to swim with him. although it was far from your relaxing plans, it seemed to make him happy when he was splashing you, going underwater and pulling you by your legs, or when you pretended you were scared of a potential shark biting you so that your pretty lil boyfriend could feel all strong and tell you how he would protect you no matter what.

[bakuhve]

katsuki makes me so domestic. like, just imagine him coming home all rough and battered from the day—scuff marks on his skin, his mask pulled up, brushing his hair back. a snarl paints his sharp features, a string of curses leaving his mouth like explosions.

and then he walks through the door, sees you tending to whatever you're doing, and he immediately melts. the scowl on his face disappears. he kicks off his boots and drags you into the shower with him, and you two nap the day away—not because he's tired, but because he knows you are, and he wants to be skin-to-skin with you, always.

[bakuhve]

ur leona fic is the best leona smut i've EVER read !!!

would u be open to writing one for jamil ? :0

THANK YOU!!

and yess actually someone requested a similar jamil one and it’s in the works as we speak 🫡

[bakuhve]

hello hello!! this is my first time in this acc, your leona fic showed up on my fic and oh my god, it's the best leona smutty fic i've ever read, really!! i feel like leona can be really soft and almost every fic portrays him as super hard yknow?? i really really liked it (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) do you perhaps take requests with other twst characters??

awww thank you!! i agree so much like yes he can be rough around the edges but i think he would treat his gf as a queen lol

and yes! i take requests for other characters

[bakuhve]

hi there !! i stumbled upon your blog and i just read your recent leona writing…and omg my heart ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡ it was SO SWEET thank you for sharing your writing with the world <33

AWW thank you so much 🥲 this means the world to me for real

AND YEAH i’ve been in a leona obsession lately, don’t know what’s come over me LOL but if you have any requests my inbox is always open!

[bakuhve]

royal treatment

leona kingscholar x reader smut

after a hectic week, you’re exhausted and missing your boyfriend. one late night text from him changes everything, and he’s ready to remind you just how much you mean to him, in every way possible.

warnings/tags: NSFW, established relationship, soft dom! leona, praise kink, worship kink, overstimulation, fingering, oral (f. receiving), spit play, breeding kink, mating press, possessive behavior, aftercare

your shoes scuffed against the dirt trail as you trudged toward ramshackle dorm, each step heavier than the last. the moon hung low and silvery above night raven college, casting eerie shadows over the gnarled trees. it was late, too late for anyone to be wandering the grounds, but this had become your normal.

you sighed, breath visible in the chilly air. this week had been chaos. grim nearly set the alchemy lab on fire, ace and deuce dragged you into another disciplinary hearing, and crowley- bless his useless heart- had unloaded another week’s worth of chores onto your lap with that infuriating “it builds character” grin.

and through all of it you hadn’t seen your boyfriend, leona, once. not really.

a passing glance in the hallway. a gruff text that you didn’t have time to respond to until hours later. you were too busy. too needed. running yourself ragged like some glorified campus babysitter while your boyfriend lounged somewhere in savanaclaw, probably napping under the sun with no idea how badly you missed him.

your hand reached for ramshackle’s rusty doorknob, heart aching for rest- and maybe a bit of affection that hadn’t been possible all week.

that’s when your phone buzzed.

[leona:] Come to Savanaclaw.

no explanation. just a command.

you stood there for a second, half of you wanting to crawl into bed and pass out for the rest of the night, the other half already moving on instinct. you knew that tone- even in writing. he wasn’t just calling you over for company. this was different. he’d been quiet all week, letting you run around campus like a glorified errand girl. he hadn’t complained, hadn’t whined or dragged you away, hadn’t even sent his usual “you’re doing too much” texts.

this was his way of saying he’d had enough.

you didn’t even bother texting back. he wouldn’t need it. he’d know the second you stepped inside.

by the time you slipped through the savanaclaw mirror, your steps quickened. the dorm was dim inside, lit only by a few flickering orange lanterns. most of the students were asleep- except you knew exactly which room wouldn’t be.

you stopped in front of it, taking a deep breath before opening the door. you didn’t knock, you never had to.

inside, the room smelled like sun-warmed sheets, dry grass, and faint traces of something wild and rich and unmistakably leona. he was sprawled on the bed, shirtless, one arm beneath his head, the other resting lazily on his stomach. loose sleep pants clung low to his hips, his tail swaying in a slow and idle rhythm behind him. his eyes were low and heavy-lidded, but there was no teasing smile waiting for you. just a slow, unreadable stare that pinned you in place.

“shut the door.”

his voice was quiet. rough with sleep- or restraint.

you obeyed before you even realized you were moving, with a soft click of the latch echoing the stillness between you.

his piercing eyes stayed on you, unblinking. not predatory- something deeper. like he was trying to memorize the shape of you, standing there at his door in the dead of night with exhaustion hanging off your shoulders.

“c’mere, herbivore.”

you walked to him, slowly. not because you were unsure, but because something about the way he spoke made your chest ache. it wasn’t the usual lazy drawl he used when he wanted attention. it was quieter and rougher, like he’d been holding this in. like if he said too much, too fast, he’d crack.

when you reached the edge of the bed, he sat up- fluid and slow, all coiled strength and golden heat. his hand reached out, brushing your waist. then he looked up to you, his thumb grazing just under the hem of your shirt, not asking to take it off- just touching. just grounding himself in the feel of you.

“you’ve been running yourself to the ground,” he muttered. his hands rose to your hips, settling there like he was afraid you might tip over if he let go. “doing everyone’s job but your own. all that weight on your shoulders… and not a single dumbass thinks to carry it for you.”

he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to your stomach. one hand moved to the back of your thigh, the other pulling you closer by the curve of your hip. when he spoke again, it vibrated against your skin.

“let me take care of you tonight. no fightin’ me on it.” his voice was a low growl as his hands slid up your sides, warm and rough palms that somehow felt like they were tracing the very soul of you. his gaze was dark and hungry.

he gently guided you onto the bed with an unexpected slow care. his hands worked under your shirt, lifting it over your head, but he never rushed. never pulled you too quickly, even though the need in his eyes was unmistakable.

you could feel the heat radiating off him as you let him undress you. “leona…” you murmured softly, letting out a slow breath as you met his eyes. “i’ve missed you.” the words slipped out, your exhaustion from the week catching up with the overwhelming pull of his presence.

leona’s emerald eyes softened at that, his lips curling into something more tender than you’d expected. “yeah? been missin’ you, too.” he pressed his forehead to yours, his breathing a little heavier now as he let his hands roam over your skin. “been workin’ yourself too hard. not gonna let you keep going like this.”

you couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped as he kissed your collarbone, his lips gentle but insistent as he slowly worked his way down, exploring the bare skin beneath his fingers.

“let me make you feel good,” he whispered, voice low and rough. “don’t have to do a damn thing but let me.”

your fingers curled into the sheets as you tried to push aside the fatigue and let him, to let go like he was asking. you let your head fall back against the pillow, a shiver running through your body as his hands slid down your hips, gently guiding you closer to him. “you always know how to make me feel better.”

leona gave a low chuckle, his lips brushing over your neck as he kissed you there, slow and reverent. “that’s ‘cause you deserve to feel good. my pretty little herbivore, always takin’ care of everyone else.”

his lips found your shoulder, and this kiss felt like an anchor- soft and reassuring. his hands were slow and careful as he slid your pants down, lifting you just enough.

“i’ve got you,” he murmured against your skin.

you couldn’t help but let out a breath, your body already reacting to the slow, deliberate pace. “i trust you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but it felt like the most honest thing you could say.

leona’s eyes darkened, his chest pressing against yours as he kissed you deeply, almost hungrily now- but still in that caring way. “good,” he rumbled. “now let me show you just how much i need you.”

“you’re so damn beautiful,” he muttered, while his hands found the clasp of your bra. with a quick, practiced motion, he freed you from the fabric. his fingers traced the curves of your body, feeling the soft swell of your breasts before leaning down to press a kiss between them.

you gasped, arching your back just slightly as you felt his hands gently cup your breasts, squeezing softly, and you moaned at the sensation.

leona’s eyes locked onto you, his gaze dark with hunger and admiration, he lowered himself even further, his lips brushing over the soft flesh of your chest, tasting and worshipping each inch of you as if he couldn’t get enough. “you don’t know how much i’ve wanted this all week,” he whispered, voice thick with longing. “to have you, to take care of you like you deserve.”

his mouth found your nipple, teasing it with soft kisses before he finally wrapped his lips around it, sucking gently. you arched your chest further into him, your fingers threading into his hair as a shiver ran through you.

leona let out a soft groan, his grip tightening as he lavished attention to the other breast, his hands kneading and massaging, making you squirm beneath him in pleasure. “so fucking perfect,” he muttered against your skin.

you could feel the tension burning in your core, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable. his lips moved between your breasts, trailing kisses along your skin as his hands slid lower, brushing against your stomach, teasing the waistband of your panties.

he pulled away just long enough to look down at you, his eyes heavy with desire. “tell me how you feel,” he demanded, his voice soft but firm. “i need to hear it.”

“feels so good,” you breathed, voice shaky. “so good, leona…”

a low, satisfied growl rumbled in his chest at your answer. “yeah?” he murmured, lips brushing against your navel now. “i’m just gettin’ started, herbivore.”

his thumbs hooked under your panties, and he dragged them down slow like he wanted to savor the moment. like unwrapping something precious. he dropped them to the floor, then nudged your thighs apart, settling between them as if he belonged there. as if this was where he should be.

“been thinkin’ about this all week,” he muttered, voice thick with restraint. “thinkin’ about how sweet you’d taste when you’ve been workin’ yourself ragged.”

and then he leaned in, brushing his mouth against your inner thigh first- featherlight kisses that had your hips twitching. his tongue flicked out to taste the soft skin there, and you gasped, already breathless before he even touched where you needed him most.

when he finally kissed your clit, slow and deliberate, it made you jerk. he didn’t tease- not this time. he latched on gently with his lips and sucked, firm and controlled, like he was easing you into it.

you moaned, fingers fisting the sheets as your thighs tried to close on instinct. but his hands were already there, holding them open, thumbs stroking softly along your skin to calm you.

“sensitive little thing,” he murmured against you with a grin in his voice, kissing your clit again. “you always get like this when i haven’t touched you in a while.”

you whimpered in response, your hips arching, chasing the heat of his mouth. he licked a long, slow stripe up your folds, savoring the taste with a groan, before burying his face against you more firmly. his tongue worked in slow, practiced motions- deep, unhurried, worshipful.

and when he slid two fingers into you, it made your back arch off the mattress. he curled them just right, the pads of his fingers stroking that sweet, spongy spot with devastating precision as his mouth stayed glued to your clit, licking and sucking in rhythm with each thrust.

“that’s it,” he cooed between licks.

you cried out, legs trembling as your body tightened around his fingers, the pleasure already coiling fast in your belly. it was overwhelming how he touched you- so thorough, so attentive, like he didn’t want to miss a single reaction.

and all the while, he kept whispering praises between strokes of his tongue.

“tastin’ even sweeter than i remember…” he nipped at your clit.

“this cute little pussy missed me, huh?” he increased his pace.

“you always clench around my fingers like this?” his half-lidded eyes opened to peer up at you, taking in every reaction.

“that’s it baby… fall apart for me.”

the orgasm hit hard, sharp and blinding, your back arching off the bed as you cried out his name.

“leona-!”

but he didn’t stop.

even as your body trembled beneath him, even as your thighs shook and your muscles clenched around his fingers, he kept going. his tongue stayed firmly on your clit, flicking and sucking through every wave that rolled through you, dragging your high out mercilessly.

“that’s it,” he murmured against you, his voice like velvet and fire. “give it all to me.”

you whimpered, half-begging, half-moan, your hips twitching from the sensitivity. but his fingers stayed buried deep inside you, still stroking that tender spot while his mouth worked you over with maddening skill.

it was too much. too sharp. too good.

your legs instinctively tried to close again, but leona growled low in his throat and held them open with ease.

“nuh-uh,” he muttered, lips slick against your folds. “you don’t get to run now, herbivore. not after you’ve been makin’ me wait all week.”

you squirmed beneath him, your voice breaking. “leona- please, i can’t-”

he looked up at you, eyes heavy-lidded but warm, a smug softness in his smirk that made your stomach flutter.

“you can,” he said, kissing your inner thigh again before going right back to your swollen clit. “you’re gonna give me another. you’re not done yet.”

his tongue and fingers were relentless now, coaxing every bit of pleasure from your overstimulated pussy.

your voice cracked again as the pressure built, even sharper than before, your legs shaking uncontrollably.

“fuck- leona-”

“come on, sweetheart,” he whispered, lifting his head just enough to speak against your core. “give your lion one more. be my good girl.”

and with that- one firm flick of his tongue, one perfectly angled stroke of his fingers, you shattered again.

the second orgasm ripped through you, white-hot and overwhelming. you sobbed out his name as your vision blurred, your whole body trembling uncontrollably beneath him.

“that’s it,” he growled softly, finally slowing his pace, though his fingers still stayed inside you, coaxing you through the aftershocks. “did so good for me.”

your chest heaved as you blinked through the haze, your body limp, dazed, and trembling under his hands. he gently withdrew his fingers, and you whimpered at the emptiness, even through the lingering sensitivity.

leona leaned up over you, licking his fingers clean in a way that made your core flutter all over again. then his hands braced on either side of your head as he hovered above you, his green eyes searching your face, softer now.

“you still with me?” he asked, like this part mattered most.

you gave him a shaky nod, your voice breathless. “yeah… yeah, i’m with you.”

his lips curved faintly. “good.” he kissed you deep and slow, letting you feel the way his body trembled now too. “need to be inside you, baby. need to feel you for real.”

you whimpered against his mouth, nodding, already reaching down to tug his boxers down. he helped you, shrugging them off with a low groan, his cock springing free- thick, flushed, and aching for you. he gripped it at the base, giving himself a slow stroke as he settled himself between your thighs, lining himself up.

“tell me you want this,” he said again, voice husky and firm.

“i want you,” you whispered, gazing up at him. “need you, leona.”

he pressed his forehead to yours, letting out a shaky breath like he’d been holding it in for hours.

“that’s my girl.”

with one slow, deliberate roll of his hips, he pushed in.

your breath caught, your nails digging into his arms as he filled you inch by inch- stretching you perfectly, deeply, until he was seated fully inside, his pelvis flush with yours.

a strained groan tore from his throat, and his head dropped to your shoulder as he stilled, just for a moment, trying to get a hold of himself.

“shit,” he breathed, “you feel like heaven…”

he kissed your collarbone, your jaw, your lips- soothing, adoring- as he began to move. slow, deep thrusts that made you feel every inch of him, the warmth of his body covering yours like a blanket, anchoring you to the bed.

“been wantin’ this all damn week,” he rasped into your ear. “thinkin’ about how tight you’d be… how pretty you’d sound when i finally got back inside you.”

you moaned, arms wrapped tight around his back, drawing him in even closer as your hips rolled to meet his rhythm.

“leona…”

“i got you,” he murmured, “gonna take care of you, baby. gonna make it all better.”

leona kept his pace steady, grinding his hips just right, hitting all the perfect spots with every roll of his body. his eyes were lidded but focused, devouring you with every flutter of your lashes, every broken moan you gave him in return.

“c’mon,” he whispered, brushing your hair back with one hand. “lemme feel you cum on me. you can do that for me, right?”

your breath hitched, the pressure in your core pulling tight, trembling.

“leona- ah, i’m-”

he kissed you hard just as your body snapped again, your orgasm crashing into you like a wave. you gasped into his mouth, nails raking down his back as your walls clenched around him, milking him with desperate need.

he didn’t stop, just growled- low and wrecked- then shifted.

in one fluid motion, he sat up on his knees and lifted your legs, folding them back near your chest. his hands gripped the back of your knees, locking you into place as he drove back into you in one deep and hungry thrust.

“fuck-” you whimpered, the new angle punching the breath out of your lungs.

“that’s it,” leona groaned, watching the way your tits bounced with every thrust, the way your eyes glazed from overstimulation. “gonna keep you like this… take all of me. just like that.”

your moans pitched higher, body already too sensitive- but it didn’t matter. not when he was looking at you like that. not when he was hitting so deep it felt like you could feel him in your stomach.

“you’re squeezin’ me so tight, pretty thing…” he growled, sweat beading on his brow. “like your body’s beggin’ me to fill you up.”

he bent over you, still pressing your legs back, mouth brushing against your jaw as he picked up the pace- harder now, rougher. the bed creaked beneath you, and you couldn’t focus on anything except him. the way he filled you so completely it blurred the edges of your thoughts.

leona’s gaze dropped to your lips, then your eyes, and something possessive flashed behind emerald.

“open up for me,” he rasped, his voice wrecked and low.

you obeyed without thinking, lips parting, tongue just barely peeking out in anticipation.

he leaned in, just enough to let a slow string of spit drip from his mouth to yours- hot, thick, deliberate. it landed on your tongue in a warm line, and you whimpered at the sheer intimacy of it, your body clenching around him.

leona watched you swallow it with a low, throaty groan, his eyes blazing.

“that’s it,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours again, possessive and fond all at once. “takin’ everything i give you so good, herbivore.”

then he kissed you again- messy, breathless, claiming- before rutting back into you with renewed hunger.

“gonna ruin you for anyone else,” he growled against your mouth. “you’re mine.”

your answer was a whimper, your fingers curling into the sheets as he drove deeper into you, like he was carving the feeling of him into your very core.

then his hand slipped between your bodies, finding your clit. he rubbed it in firm circles, making your hips jerk beneath him.

“one more for me,” he murmured, voice fraying at the edges. “c’mon, sweet girl. wanna feel you fall apart while i fill you up.”

your body was trembling, toes curling, every nerve alive and singing. the overstimulation was too much and not enough, and the way he was looking down at you like you were something sacred, something his- shoved you toward the final edge.

“l-leona-!”

“i know,” he cooed, fingers moving faster now, his thrusts growing more desperate. “gonna make you mine. gonna put it so deep you’ll feel me for days.”

your orgasm hit like lightning- white hot and overwhelming. you cried out, thighs shaking as your walls clamped down around him, squeezing tight and relentless.

leona snarled as you pulsed around him, his rhythm faltering just once before he drove in deep, hips flush to yours, cock buried to the hilt.

“fuck- take it,” he groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder as he came with a shudder. “take all of it.”

you could feel the warmth of him flood inside you, thick and hot, his hips grinding lazily as if to make sure none of it went to waste. his fingers stayed on your clit, coaxing every last aftershock from you even as your body trembled beneath him.

his lips brushed against your cheek, panting. “that’s it, baby,” he whispered. “you did so fuckin’ good… all mine.”

you didn’t even remember when your legs were finally let go, only that the weight of leona collapsed beside you moments later- warm and solid, his arm sliding beneath your shoulders to pull you flush against his chest.

“easy now,” he murmured, pressing a slow kiss to your temple. his voice was rough, but the gentleness settled into your bones. “you still breathin’? need water?”

you managed a tired hum and a small shake of your head, your cheek resting against his shoulder. your body ached in the best way- every inch of you was humming with satisfaction.

leona’s palm smoothed over your back in lazy circles, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. you felt his tail curl around your leg loosely, more instinct than thought, and it made you smile sleepily.

“i love you…” you murmured, lips barely forming words.

he exhaled, the sound heavy but soft. “i know. i love you too.”

you felt the press of his lips- first to your hair, then your shoulder, then your cheek. a trail of kisses spoke louder than anything he could say aloud. his hands never left you, holding you securely, like he needed to keep feeling your warmth against him.

within minutes, your breathing slowed, evened out, your body fully relaxing in his arms. sleep pulled you under without resistance, safe and surrounded.

leona stayed awake a little longer, watching you. how peaceful you looked, no responsibilities dragging you down, no summons or tasks barking your name.

then he heard a buzz of your phone.

without moving much, he reached over and retrieved it from where it had fallen near the edge of the bed. the screen was lit with a message.

[crowley]: Need you in the main hall first thing in the morning- urgent errand. Sorry, prefect!

leona stared at it for a moment, green eyes narrowing.

“tch. not tonight.”

he swiped it away and deleted the message before you could ever see it.

[bakuhve]

omg ur a shifter !! what’s your quirk in your dr? 🥹

omg i’m so happy you asked this! i don’t get any asks about shifting so this was a nice refresher to see lolll

honestly i haven’t touched my mha dr in a hot minute and have been focusing on my twst dr lately, butttt i’m not gonna lie to you i made myself so unreasonably op 😭 i’m so extra bruh

basically think of saiki k but like ten times stronger. omnipotent kinda… controlling elements, controlling matter, flying, all that jazz. basically if i can think it i can do it LMAO i think of it as more of a power than a quirk, something that has always been inside of my dr self and has always came naturally to me

but for the sake of branding and aesthetics, for my image in public i mostly have a galaxy-esque theme, controlling pale yellow energy and opening domainlike areas to make the sky around look like a purple galaxy. think of lucy heartfilias urano metria haha

and my hero name is galaxia! trying to keep up with the theme lolol

some of the closest visuals i could find:

[bakuhve]

in your light, i rest

leona kingscholar x reader! reader

every afternoon, you read beside leona in the botanical garden- your peace, your escape, and maybe something more.

the campus of night raven college was rowdy, as always. during after class club activity time, the rowdiness seemed to double.

laughter and loud voices spilled through the air, sharp whistles cutting through the chatter of students swarming the courtyard. cleats scraped against pavement from the direction of the field, and the clatter of potion bottles echoed from a window flung open in the science wing. a hum of energy buzzed through the edges of your skull, making it impossible for you to think.

you clutched your book to your side and quietly slipped away from the noise.

reading had always been your escape. a soft, quiet world that you could hold in your hands, one page at a time. in a school where magic surged and tempers flared like firecrackers- where you were relied upon to take care of overblots that could swallow weeks of calm in a single breath- there was something sacred about the stillness found between printed worlds. no danger. just stories that waited for you, always there.

your steps carried you to the familiar path that curved toward the botanical garden, already feeling your shoulders loosen at the scent of the sun-warmed earth and the gentle rustle of leaves ahead. you knew who you’d find there, sprawled in a patch of dappled light like he was born to belong in it.

and just like always, where he was, your peace waited.

the glass walls of the botanical garden curved above you like a cathedral of green and gold. sunlight filtered in through the high windows, casting lazy beams over the jungle of vines and flowers and plants. it was warm in the way only enclosed gardens could be- humid and slow, like the world had decided to stop spinning for just a while.

and there, exactly where he always was, laid leona kingscholar.

sprawled across a sunlit patch of grass with his arms behind his head and one leg bent, he looked more like a lion in the savanna than a student. his tail flicked lazily against the ground, his eyes closed but brows relaxed in that rare, unbothered way he only wore here. you didn’t have to say anything as you stepped inside. you didn’t have to.

“took you long enough,” he muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching with the barest hint of a smirk. his eyes stayed shut. “could hear your footsteps halfway down the path. all stomp and no stealth, as usual, herbivore.”

you rolled your eyes fondly and walked past his shaft of sunlight to sit right beside him in the nearby shadow- close, but not quite in the same warmth he claimed. the grass was cool beneath you, the shade a welcome relief on your skin. you always preferred to read in the shadows. the light was too harsh on your pages, too eager to expose what you wanted to disappear into.

“maybe i wouldn’t stomp if the campus wasn’t full of students yelling about spell duels,” you replied, cracking open your book. “some of us are trying to hold onto the last threads of sanity around here.”

leona huffed, amused. “you picked the wrong school for sanity.”

“tell me about it,” you murmured, your voice already falling into that soft, distant cadence you used when reading. “but at least this place still has you.”

his tail flicked again, slower this time.

“damn right it does.”

your conversation tapered off, fading into the hush that always settled over the garden when you were together. the only sounds that remained were the low hum of insects nestled in the leaves, the rustle of branches swaying gently above, and the slow, rhythmic turning of pages as you disappeared into your book.

you always did that- slipping away into other worlds with such ease. your brow would furrow at tense moments, lashes fluttering as if you were blinking back tears, and then your lips would part in a small and amused smile at whatever line the author had crafted. leona watched it all from under half lidded eyes, pupils blown wider than they should have been. the sunlight brushed against his skin like a blanket while the shadows curled softly around you.

his predator-like gaze trailed up the slope of your cheek, the curve of your brow, the way your fingers tightened slightly when something in the story gripped your heart. you were still. but never unmoving. always changing with the story, alive in a quiet, almost sacred way.

if he was the sun in this little routine for you both- stretching out in warmth and demanding the world bend around his comfort- then you were the moon. cool, quiet, steady. you didn’t orbit around him, though. no, he found himself drifting closer to you, again and again.

drawn in by something softer than gravity and twice as stubborn.

you didn’t even notice him staring until his voice cut gently through the air.

“you make the weirdest faces when you read.”

you blinked, lifting your gaze from the page. “excuse me?”

“not bad weird,” he said, tail swishing once behind him. “just… expressive. like you’re living it.”

you smiled, a little embarrassed but not annoyed. “maybe i am.”

“tch.” he let his emerald eyes fall shut again, arms folding behind his head. “figures a herbivore like you would get emotionally invested in a piece of fiction.”

“and yet you never seem to mind watching me do it.”

he didn’t reply right away, but his smirk deepened just a little.

“cause it’s peaceful,” he said low and quiet. “you’re peaceful.”

his voice came out much more soft, much more sweeter than he had intended.

your eyes flicked toward him, cheeks tinting with a quiet warmth you couldn’t hide. no one had really called you that before- not in a world with so much out of your control, not in a school where magic unraveled at the seams and monsters could be classmates in disguise.

you looked at him for a second longer, heart nudging at your ribs, before lowering your gaze and returning back to your pages. that was the thing with leona. he could make your heart skip with the simplest truth- and then let you go on like he hadn’t said a thing.

a few minutes passed, and then without a word, he shifted.

your breath caught slightly as his head slide from the grass to your lap, his ear brushing against your thigh and one hand curling near his chest. he didn’t ask, didn’t need to. he just knew you’d let him. you didn’t say a word, only adjusted yourself slightly, angling your book so the shade still covered your page.

the lion let out a slow exhale, the kind that meant sleep was claiming him fast.

and before long, you were alone in the garden, except for the gentle rise and fall of his breathing, and the feeling of sunlight giving way to dusk.

when leona stirred next, the world was different.

cooler. quieter. the golden haze of the afternoon had slipped into silvery twilight, and above the glass dome shimmered with moonlight. most of the plants had curled into themselves for the night, and a soft blue glow hung in the air like a dream that hadn’t yet faded.

leona blinked slowly, head still heavy in your lap- and then realized you hadn’t moved.

you were asleep too, breath soft and even, lips slightly parted. your book lay beside you, still open to the last page you’d been reading. carefully, leona lifted his head and peered down at it, more out of idle curiosity than anything else.

it was some romance. he could tell by the way the paragraphs dragged on about heartbeats and trembling fingers and stars caught in someone’s eyes. his eyes narrowed slightly as he skimmed a line.

-his mouth found hers, like the moment had been waiting for them to arrive. soft. sure. inevitable.

he stared at the words, then at your sleeping face. the slope of your nose, the softness of your lashes. the way your lips, even in sleep, seemed to beckon.

predator instincts, they always called it. the lion beneath the man. the part of him that hunted without needing to chase.

but this wasn’t hunger.

this was gravity. this was the quiet pull that he had been feeling towards you since you arrived in this cruel and twisted world- the way you always brought a calm he didn’t know he needed until you gave it.

slowly, silently, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

barely there. a brush of warmth. a secret he let the moon keep.

“even in your sleep,” he murmured, pulling back, voice low, “you make it hard not to fall for you.”

his tail swayed once behind him, slow and content. and then he settled beside you again, resting one arm over your legs as if guarding his claim, and let the night carry you both deeper into dreams.

[bakuhve]

"Prefect, have you seen Rook anywhere?"

Epel looked distraught. He had spent the last three hours searching for his upperclassman, only to come up empty handed. He was now searching the courtyard again to no avail and was hoping you could give him a hand.

"Oh, yeah. He's been following me around all day," you answered.

"What?" Epel looked doubtful. His eyes scanned the empty paved path behind you. "How do you know?"

"Watch this."

You raised your hands above your head, forming a nice ring shape. No sooner did you lock your fingers together in the air than an arrow whizzed between your arms. It struck the ground right in front of Epel and chipped off part of the sidewalk.

Epel let out a swear and stepped back. "Wha' in tarnation was that!?"

You let your arms fall back down. "I think it's some kind of game. Rook hasn't actually spoken to me since he started doing it, but it's kinda fun. We've been practicing."

[bakuhve]

[bakuhve]

i’d like to say first that i adore your writing! it’s just absolutely lovely to read everything you write o(^▽^)o ♡ thank you for your work! if you don’t mind, i’d like to leave a request!

could i get some domestic fluff about babysitting with the twst characters? like helping leona babysit cheka (and any other character you’d like to write for who has a younger relative…or maybe just insert some random kid for whoever you pick lol) and the whole experience gets them thinking about the future and perhaps having a family of their own?

Babysitting With Them

( ✧ ) ────── parent stories . fluff - f!reader .

- [𝐜𝐡.] dormleaders . riddle . leona . azul . kalim . vil . idia . malleus

- [𝐩:𝐬] Fluff/Domestic Fluff . Babysitting . Future Family Themes. Mild Chaos/Cute Chaos . Soft Moments/Emotional Introspection . Mentions of Children . Parenthood Imagery/Future Parenting

Note: Thank you so much for enjoying my writing!! (≧◡≦) It's funny how I two of the same requests that have the same theme Lol, so I just decided to combine them both ( ´ ▽ ` )

Riddle Rosehearts

When Professor Trein approached Riddle with the task of watching his twin grandchildren for an afternoon, Riddle felt a surge of pride and immediate stress. “A demonstration of responsibility,” the professor had said with a knowing glance. Of course, the twist was that you’d be watching them with him.

He'd barely made it to the faculty quarters with the twins before they began running in opposite directions, giggling. One made a beeline for a bookshelf while the other tried to unbutton Riddle's blazer. You calmly scooped one up with a laugh and offered a distracted Riddle a reassuring smile. “We’ve got this.”

“Indeed,” he said, although his voice cracked slightly.

The afternoon was a test of patience, creativity, and teamwork. The twins were mischievous but not unmanageable, especially with your steadying presence. You suggested a tea party—“Just like in Heartslabyul, Riddle”—and helped set out little plastic cups, cookies, and juice. The twins delighted in it, making Riddle the "tea king" while you were “his queen,” to which Riddle flushed a bright pink but didn't correct them.

He even loosened up. At one point, you caught him kneeling beside a stuffed bear, seriously asking if it took sugar in its tea, and your heart melted.

Later, when the twins were napping in a sunlit corner of the lounge, curled up with stuffed animals, Riddle sat beside you on the couch, sipping lukewarm tea you both forgot to drink. He was unusually quiet.

“You were great with them,” you said, brushing a crumb from his sleeve.

He looked at the sleeping children, eyes soft and thoughtful. “I always feared I’d be too strict. That I’d repeat my mother’s mistakes. But... I felt something different today.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he hesitantly took your hand in his.

“I think… if it were with you… a future like this wouldn't be so terrifying,” he whispered. “Perhaps even… something to look forward to.”

And for a moment, the world was quiet—just the hum of a peaceful room, the steady rhythm of children’s breaths, and the quiet, blooming thought of someday.

Leona Kingscholar

You'd never seen Leona more alarmed than when a magical mirror blinked open to deliver a very energetic Cheka into his dorm room—complete with suitcase, plushie, and an extremely chipper "UNCLE LEOOO!"

Apparently, Crowley thought it a wonderful learning opportunity for Leona to engage with family during the school’s "Interpersonal Growth Week." And Crowley, in his infinite wisdom, roped you in as Leona’s "emotional support."

Cheka tackled Leona’s legs with a hug, and the big bad lion grumbled something unintelligible, already looking exhausted. You knelt to greet Cheka with a wide smile and a friendly high-five, which the little lion cub enthusiastically returned.

The next few hours were chaos wrapped in a sugar high.

You tried crafts—Cheka glued everything to the table. You tried games—Cheka turned hide-and-seek into a full-blown stealth mission that almost broke a vase. Leona had all but collapsed on the couch, arms crossed over his eyes, muttering, “I need a nap from this nap.”

But then—magic.

The three of you ended up outside in a sunny corner of the savannah-like lounge. Cheka chased butterflies while you helped Leona set up a blanket and snacks. You fed each other bits of dried fruit while pretending you weren't watching Cheka try to roar at squirrels.

Leona eventually laid down, head resting in your lap as he watched the sky.

“You’re good with him,” you said, fingers brushing through his hair.

“Tch. I just didn’t want him breaking anything.”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

He huffed but didn’t deny it. Instead, he turned his head slightly, golden eyes catching yours. “You’re the one who’s a natural. Think you’d survive if we had a few of our own running around?”

The way he said it was casual, but there was weight behind the words. His gaze didn’t waver.

Your heart did a little somersault.

“I think we’d survive,” you replied, smiling. “And you’d be better at it than you think.”

Leona snorted softly. “Maybe. As long as they don’t wake me up before noon.”

“Deal. I’ll be the morning parent. You handle bedtime.”

He smirked. “Bet I’d be great at bedtime stories.”

That night, Cheka finally fell asleep with you reading to him while Leona lazily played with the boy’s hair. The warm glow of the dorm’s lighting, the distant buzz of cicadas, and Leona’s hand resting on yours as he watched his nephew drift off—it all felt like a fleeting glimpse into another life. A quieter one. A better one.

Later, after Cheka was tucked in, Leona didn’t say much. He just leaned into you, holding you a little tighter than usual, his voice a low murmur against your hair:

“I wouldn't mind this. With you. A pride of our own.”

Azul Ashengrotto

It all started when a local couple from the Coral Sea sent a formal request to the Mostro Lounge. They were in urgent need of a sitter for their precocious little mer-child, Mira, during a diplomatic visit to the surface. Azul, ever the businessman, couldn’t resist an opportunity to help—especially with you involved.

“This is strictly a professional arrangement,” Azul said, straightening his tie as he paced the Lounge. “We’re simply... fulfilling a need. With compensation. Nothing more.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “So, you’re not looking forward to spending time with an adorable tiny sea-creature and me?”

He flushed to the tips of his ears. “I never said that.”

The moment Mira arrived, everything spiraled beautifully out of Azul’s control. The little one was all curious tentacles, gleaming eyes, and boundless questions. She immediately took a liking to you, tugging your hand and asking if you were “Mr. Azul’s princess.”

Azul nearly choked on his own breath.

You spent the afternoon in the VIP room of the Lounge turned “child-safe zone,” crafting with enchanted water paints, building pillow forts, and watching Mira “swim” in circles around the furniture. Azul tried to stay aloof at first, but Mira eventually suckered him in with wide eyes and a tragic, “I need someone to be the sea king in my game!”

He relented with a sigh that masked a small smile. “Very well. But only because the realm demands it.”

You watched as he donned a makeshift crown made of napkins and posed dramatically while Mira shrieked with joy. Your heart swelled at the sight—Azul, so often rigid and serious, pretending to grant royal decrees while holding a glitter-covered wand.

Later, when Mira was curled up on a plush bench, dozing peacefully with your coat wrapped around her like a blanket, Azul sat beside you, strangely quiet.

“She reminds me of myself,” he said softly. “Always watching, always asking questions. Curious. Smart.”

“She’s sweet. And she adores you.”

He chuckled under his breath. “Temporarily, perhaps. Children change quickly.”

You nudged his shoulder. “She didn’t see the business mogul. She saw someone kind and gentle. Someone safe.”

He looked down at his gloved hands. “I never imagined myself with a family. I didn’t think I was built for that kind of softness. But with you here… it doesn’t seem so foolish.”

You reached out and laced your fingers with his, resting your head on his shoulder.

“It’s not foolish at all.”

He squeezed your hand in return, and together, you watched Mira sleep—Azul’s heart caught somewhere between fear and hope, wondering for the first time if maybe, someday, he could create a world where a child of his own wouldn’t have to hide who they were.

Kalim Al-Asim

It was supposed to be a simple favor—watching one of Jamil’s younger cousins for the afternoon while the rest of the Asim family attended a formal banquet. You and Kalim were already spending the weekend at the Scalding Sands estate, so it seemed like no big deal.

That is… until little Layla arrived.

A tiny whirlwind in a flowing dress, Layla was the human embodiment of a sugar rush. She immediately tackled Kalim in a hug, shrieking, “COUSIN KALIM!” as he caught her mid-spin and lifted her into the air like a carnival ride.

“Kalim, she’s going to launch herself into orbit,” you laughed as Layla shrieked in delight.

“She’s light as a feather!” Kalim grinned. “Come on, let’s play palace adventure!”

The next few hours were a technicolor blur of activity. Kalim turned the entire courtyard into an elaborate obstacle course. You both took turns being “guards” or “thieves” as Layla declared herself “Queen of the Flying Carpets.” There were glittery sticker crowns involved, you wore one. Kalim wore four. He looked fabulous.

Kalim was born for this. He matched Layla’s energy effortlessly, spinning stories, making her laugh, and doing every silly voice. You helped bake cookies together (well, tried—Layla mostly just poured sugar in everything while Kalim pretended not to notice). At one point, Layla sat in Kalim’s lap while he played a lullaby on an oud, her little eyes drooping as she leaned into him, totally at peace.

When she finally fell asleep in a cozy mountain of cushions, Kalim looked at you with a warmth in his eyes that was deeper than usual. Not just sunshine—something realer, steadier.

“You’re amazing with her,” you whispered.

He smiled wide but soft. “So are you. She really likes you, y'know.”

He paused then, eyes flicking toward the sleeping child, and his smile grew quieter. Thoughtful.

“Hey… do you think someday, we could do this again? Not for someone else. Just… us.”

Your breath caught at how gentle his voice was. How unguarded.

“With our own little one?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, reaching for your hand. “I used to think I’d never be still long enough for that kind of life. But with you… I think I could be. I want to share all this joy with someone. With a family.”

You leaned into him, head against his shoulder as the warm breeze swept past, carrying the scent of cardamom and sugar.

“I’d love that, Kalim.”

He kissed your forehead, the weight of the moment grounding even someone like him.

“Then let’s make it a dream to reach together.”

Vil Schoenheit

It began, like all beautiful disasters do, with Crowley.

Apparently, a child from the local village—eight years old, precocious, and obsessed with “divas”—had written a very passionate letter asking to spend a day with the “fabulous Vil Schoenheit.” It ended up in the headmage’s hands, and of course, he passed it along to Vil with a wink and a “learning experience in mentorship and patience.”

Vil wanted to say no.

But you, of course, smiled and said, “Come on, it might be fun.”

That was how you ended up babysitting a tiny fashion-obsessed firecracker named Sera, who insisted on calling Vil “Miss Vil” and who immediately begged to do makeovers.

“She’s got spirit,” you whispered with a grin as Vil exhaled, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear. “Admirable spirit,” he muttered. “With a worrying love of neon eyeshadow.”

You helped set up a little “studio” in Pomefiore’s drawing room. Vil arranged the mirrors, the light, the seating—because of course he did—and then the three of you got to work. Sera wanted you to do her nails (purple sparkles, no exceptions), while Vil demonstrated eyeliner techniques and gently corrected her brush strokes.

“You must treat your face like art,” he explained patiently, holding her hand as she tried to line her eyes. “Not a battlefield.”

She beamed up at him, utterly starstruck.

Later, she demanded a “runway walk,” so you all spent an hour in the Pomefiore halls, strutting like queens to invisible music. Sera wore one of Vil’s silk scarves as a cape and declared the two of you her “royal beauty parents.”

And Vil—Vil actually laughed. Not the elegant, posed kind, but a real laugh, from the chest.

That evening, with Sera curled up between you on a chaise, happily snacking on sugar-dusted pastries and humming to herself, you noticed Vil watching her. His hand gently smoothed back her hair, his movements soft and careful.

“She’s going to remember this,” you whispered.

He glanced at you, his voice quiet. “So will I.”

You leaned into him, warmth in your chest.

“You were incredible with her,” you said.

He hesitated for a moment, then looked at you with something unguarded in his gaze—no pretense, no performance.

“I used to think children would be... interruptions to my life. But watching her today, seeing her confidence grow just because someone believed in her?” His voice dropped. “I think I’d like that kind of legacy. To build someone up. Guide them. Shape them into someone proud and whole.”

You reached for his hand and laced your fingers together. “You’d be amazing.”

“And you,” he said, brushing your knuckles with his lips, “would be the heart of it all.”

And in the soft silence that followed, with the glow of the setting sun catching in the gold of Vil’s hair, the two of you quietly let the idea take root.

Idia Shroud

Idia’s nightmare began with Ortho cheerfully saying, “Big Brother! You’ve been chosen to babysit my friend’s little sister while their family visits a Space-Tech Expo!”

Idia’s soul left his body right then and there.

“Wh—What?! I—I don’t know how to interact with mini-humans! I barely manage with regular humans—!”

“It’s okay! Y/N will be with you!” Ortho said brightly, clearly having planned this. “Think of it as a co-op quest! With NPC cuteness!”

That’s how you both ended up in Idia’s room, where the lighting was turned to “soft ambient galaxy mode” and a six-year-old girl named Nari was stomping around in your oversized headphones and calling herself “The Boss Monster.”

Idia was frozen at first—tucked in his gamer chair like it was his only line of defense. But you gave him a warm look, handed him a second controller, and said, “C’mon, let’s introduce her to ‘Fantasy Brawl X.’” The game was co-op, cartoony, and had a character that looked suspiciously like Idia with fire hair.

Nari was hooked.

She squealed when she figured out how to make her character jump. Idia mumbled quiet instructions that she somehow understood perfectly. And you, of course, kept the energy balanced—cheering, helping Nari when she got stuck, and giving Idia little confidence boosts every time he muttered, “I’m gonna mess this up…”

You even caught him smiling when she called his gaming skills “SO COOL, like a real boss!”

Hours passed, filled with giggles and glowing screens. You made microwave popcorn and juice box “potions.” Ortho peeked in once and whispered “Level Up!” at Idia, who turned pink and kicked him out.

When Nari finally nodded off on a beanbag chair, hugging a plushie of Idia’s favorite mech character, the room went quiet. The only sound was the hum of LED strips and the soft soundtrack of the paused game.

You turned to find Idia staring at her—his expression unreadable, for once not hidden behind his hair.

“She... wasn’t scared of me,” he said quietly. “She called me cool. Even though I’m... me.”

You moved beside him, laying your head against his shoulder. “That’s because you are cool. And kind. And you gave her a space to just be happy.”

He hesitated, hands fidgeting.

“I didn’t think I could ever picture something like this,” he whispered. “Me. In a family. That’s, like, the opposite of my anime origin story.”

“But…?”

He sighed, almost smiling. “But… if it were with you… maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad ending. Or maybe... a good beginning.”

You kissed his cheek, and his hair turned a shade of glowing pink so fast it lit up the room.

Malleus Draconia

The request came from Lilia.

“I need someone to watch one of the castle’s younger wards while I run errands in Briar Valley,” he said, flashing a mischievous little grin. “You’re good with children, right? And Malleus could use a bit of… exposure to the chaos of mortals.”

Before you could even process what you were agreeing to, you were left with a wide-eyed little fae girl named Aris—no taller than your hip, with bright moss-green hair, tiny horns, and a suspicious amount of energy for someone who literally glowed when she got excited.

“She’s precious,” you whispered.

“She is terrifying,” Malleus replied gravely, watching her zip around your legs with the glee of a creature who’d just discovered sugar.

You had both agreed to spend the afternoon in a quiet glade outside of Diasomnia, where the ancient trees arched high above and the air sparkled faintly with fae magic. Malleus, always fond of serenity, conjured floating lights and flowers that opened at a touch. Aris, of course, immediately declared this was her “kingdom” and that you and Malleus were her “knights.”

Malleus blinked, bewildered. “She… promoted me?”

You laughed. “Congrats, Sir Horns-a-Lot.”

To your surprise, Malleus took his new title seriously. He let Aris ride on his shoulders, gently cradling her little legs with those long, careful fingers. He answered every one of her endless questions about dragons, thorns, and whether he could breathe fire ("Only when properly irritated, young one").

You played tag. You helped make flower crowns. Malleus, despite never doing any of this before, adapted like he'd been waiting for a moment like this his whole life. Watching him kneel in the grass with Aris, guiding her tiny hands to shape a flower into a glowing orb of magic, made something deep in your chest ache in the best way.

When the afternoon faded to dusk, Malleus conjured little floating flameflies and told Aris a fae lullaby. She curled up between you both on a picnic blanket, humming softly, eyes half-lidded, her fingers tangled in Malleus’s cloak.

He looked down at her with something unreadable in his emerald eyes—something warm, gentle, almost reverent.

“She reminds me of the younglings I used to watch from afar,” he murmured. “Always distant. Always curious. But never mine to protect.”

You slid closer, brushing your hand against his. “But she’s here now. And she feels safe with you.”

“She calls me her knight,” he said quietly, a small smile ghosting his lips. “No one has ever said such things to me—not without fear behind it.”

You leaned your head against his arm. “She sees you the way I do.”

He turned toward you, his expression soft.

“Do you think,” he asked, his voice nearly a whisper, “that one day, we could have this? A little one. Not by duty or politics, but… something born of us? Of love?”

Your breath caught, your fingers curling around his.

“I do,” you said, certain and full of emotion. “With all my heart.”

Malleus looked up at the stars, glowing brighter against the indigo sky. And then he closed his eyes, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“If this is what the future holds,” he said, “then I have never been more eager to walk toward it.”

In the hush of twilight, with Aris sleeping peacefully between you and the fireflies dancing in the air, Malleus dreamed—not of grandeur, not of ancient destiny, but of a quiet life filled with laughter, tiny footsteps, bedtime stories, and you.

[bakuhve]

i JUST saw your reverse kiss and make out fic and i LOVE THEM is it okay for you to do the same for the rest of the cast plssss 💖

Kiss And Makeout *FLIPPED

( ✧ ) ────── parent stories . fluff - gn!reader .

- [𝐜𝐡.] riddle . ace . deuce . jamil . idia . silver

- [𝐩:𝐬] ~Fluff with a Dash of Heat . Emotional Comfort . Bad Day Comfort (for Riddle, Deuce, Silver, Jamil) . Impulsive Behavior (Ace, Idia, Jamil) . Suggestive Themes . Kissing . Emotional Vulnerability . Anxiety/Insecurity Mention . Possessive Behavior . Flustered/Desperate Behavior . Unexpected Boldness .

Note: I think you guys want me to make a second part... but I don't know 🤭. Alright, your guys' wishes have come true! Here is part two!!! (≧◡≦) ♡ Hope you guys enjoy it like the first one~

Riddle Rosehearts

It had been one of those days. Riddle had been holding it together by the finest thread of willpower and discipline. His prefect duties had dragged longer than expected, a few underclassmen had dared to ignore the Queen’s Law No. 89 about corridor traffic flow, and worst of all, someone spilled rose jam on one of the unbirthday party table linens.

By the time you found him pacing the Rose Garden, cheeks flushed with frustration and lips pressed into a hard line, he was seconds from snapping.

“Riddle,” you called softly.

His head snapped toward you. That stern expression flickered just for a moment. “I don’t have time—”

You took a step closer. “You’re pushing yourself too hard.”

And that did it. Something broke.

Without a word, he grabbed your hand—firm, but not rough—and began walking. You barely had time to react as he led you down the corridor, past classrooms, past portraits whose eyes seemed far too nosey, and toward a supply closet tucked away behind the alchemy wing. The moment the door shut behind you, he turned the lock with a soft click.

You barely had time to question before he pinned you gently but with urgency against the shelf-lined wall. His eyes flickered with something between anger and desire.

“I need this,” he breathed, his voice strained. “You.”

He kissed you like he was trying to drown out the world. No rules. No order. Just the rush of lips on lips, and the way his hands found your waist like he was anchoring himself. Riddle wasn’t usually this desperate—not this untethered—but when your fingers tangled into his hair and you kissed him back just as fiercely, a low, almost uncharacteristic noise escaped from his throat.

One of the brooms clattered from the shelf beside you, but neither of you paid it any mind.

Minutes felt like moments. He eventually pulled back, forehead pressed to yours, breath shallow. His usually perfect uniform was wrinkled, his collar askew, hair a mess.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “That was… unbecoming.”

But you smiled, brushing a thumb over the pink hue of his cheek. “It was perfect.”

His eyes softened. “Only you can calm me like this.”

Ace Trappola

Ace had been flirting with you all day. That cocky smirk, the sly touches when no one was looking, the way he leaned way too close during lunch and whispered, “You’re making it real hard to focus, y’know.”

You’d rolled your eyes. “You never focus anyway.”

“Yeah, but now I have a good excuse.”

He’d been plotting this. You could tell by the glint in his eye—Ace wasn’t exactly subtle. So when you walked past an empty classroom on your way to your dorm and felt someone tug you by the wrist and yank you inside, it wasn’t a surprise. Not really. What was surprising was just how fast he shut the door, turned the lock, and kissed you like he hadn’t seen you in months.

“Missed you,” he mumbled between kisses, pressing you back against a desk. “Even though I literally saw you like an hour ago.”

You laughed, breath hitching as he nipped at your bottom lip. “You’re such a idiot.”

“Yeah, but I’m your idiot.” His grin turned into another kiss, deeper this time, his hands sliding along your hips like he couldn’t get close enough.

He tasted like cinnamon gum and just a little trouble.

One of his hands slid under your blazer, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt while his other hand cupped your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek as he tilted your head to kiss you better. He kissed like a tease—playful, slow, then suddenly intense enough to leave you dizzy.

“You drive me crazy, y’know that?” he whispered against your lips. “Been thinking about this all day. Like, do you try to distract me or are you just naturally irresistible?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, pulling him in for another kiss.

He did. But not without a smug little chuckle rumbling in his chest.

Eventually, when the risk of someone catching you got just a little too real, Ace pulled back, panting and flushed. He grinned down at you, wiping a smudge of gloss from your lip with his thumb.

“We should probably go before Crowley shows up and gives me detention again.”

You smirked. “Worth it?”

“Hell yeah.”

Deuce Spade

Deuce tried. He really did. He studied for the test. He kept his nose clean. He even avoided Ace’s latest dumb scheme. But the world had other plans.

Professor Vargas announced a surprise pop quiz—on a unit they barely covered. Then a potion exploded in his face during lab. And just when he thought he could walk it off, he overheard a couple of older students talking about how “guys like him never amount to anything.”

By the time you found him hunched on a bench outside the classroom building, he wasn’t saying much. Just… clenching his fists like he was one second from punching the sky.

“Deuce,” you said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He looked up, and for a second, his tough-guy mask cracked. His eyes were red. From smoke? Anger? You weren’t sure.

“I—I’m fine,” he said quickly. Too quickly. “I just—needed air. It’s dumb.”

You crouched in front of him. “What happened?”

And that did it. The floodgates opened.

He told you everything—rushed and frustrated, hands flailing as he vented. “I try so hard, but it’s like… one thing goes wrong and suddenly I’m that guy again. The delinquent. The screw-up. No one thinks I’ll ever change.”

You grabbed his hand. “I do.”

That’s when his expression shifted. Like you’d said the one thing he didn’t realize he needed to hear. And without another word, he stood up, pulled you to your feet, and led you quickly—not even glancing around—into the nearest empty classroom.

The door barely shut before he turned around, eyes stormy and locked on you.

“I… I just—can I—?”

You didn’t wait for him to finish. You kissed him.

At first, it was soft. A tentative press of lips, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed this comfort. But when you wrapped your arms around him, pulled him closer, he melted. Like all the tension had been clinging to his muscles and finally let go.

His hands found your back, sliding up slowly, as if grounding himself. He kissed you like it meant something. Like it saved him.

“I’m really lucky,” he murmured, forehead against yours. “To have you. To have… this.”

You smiled, brushing hair from his face. “And I’ll always be here to remind you—you’re not that guy anymore.”

“Not with you around,” he whispered, kissing you again—deeper this time, slower. More sure.

Jamil Viper

Jamil had been quiet all day. Too quiet.

You’d noticed it during lunch. The way he stirred his food absently, how his gaze lingered on the horizon, thoughtful and dark. Kalim had been extra excitable, and Jamil had worn that polite mask of patience, but you could tell—he was simmering underneath.

So when you caught his eye across the courtyard later, that gaze wasn’t passive anymore. It was intense. Hungry.

And when he wordlessly gestured for you to follow him, something electric sparked in your chest.

You didn’t ask where he was going. You just trailed behind him as he glided through the halls, silent but purposeful, until he reached a storage closet near the gymnasium. He opened the door, looked back at you with something unreadable, and when you stepped inside, the door shut behind you.

The dim space felt thick with heat.

“Bad day?” you asked quietly.

Jamil didn’t answer.

He pressed you back against the door so fast your breath caught. His lips were on yours a heartbeat later—silencing any thoughts you might’ve had with a kiss that was slow, dangerous, and completely intoxicating.

“I needed something,” he whispered between kisses, voice low and smooth like velvet over a blade. “Something that’s mine.”

His hands were steady, but his kiss was anything but. He kissed you like he was unraveling. Like all the things he had to hide and control every day had finally broken the surface. His body caged yours in, not out of aggression, but out of sheer desperation to feel something real—you.

You could feel the tension radiating off him. He touched you like he didn’t trust himself to go further, but couldn’t stop. One hand braced above your head, the other gripping your waist as if letting go meant returning to that carefully curated mask he wore every day.

“You always make me feel like I don’t have to keep pretending,” he murmured into your neck. “Like I can just be.”

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, whispering into the curve of his jaw. “Then don’t pretend right now. Just be here.”

He kissed you again, slower this time—full of gratitude and longing. His breathing slowed, his forehead pressed against yours.

“I should get back,” he muttered reluctantly. “Kalim’ll start searching if I’m gone too long.”

You smiled, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear. “Then let him look. Just a little longer?”

Jamil exhaled a quiet laugh, a rare, genuine sound.

“Yeah… just a little longer.”

Idia Shroud

Idia had been spiraling all morning.

The new project in Ignihyde Lab glitched hard, Ortho almost got accidentally reprogrammed, and to top it off, he overheard some random students talking about you—how “someone like you” was wasting time on a shut-in like him. That shouldn’t have mattered. But it got under his skin. It festered.

He spent the next two hours in a haze, typing too hard, muttering under his breath, eyes flicking to his tablet screen like your name might just pop up and make him feel okay again.

Then he saw you walking toward the main building. And instead of retreating like he usually would, Idia stood up, ran a hand through his electric-blue hair, muttered a string of curses about how this was “like, peak out-of-character behavior,” and bolted to intercept you.

“Whoa—Idia?” you blinked as he practically teleported in front of you. His hair glitched from neon blue to a deep pink.

“I—uh—I need you. I mean—not like that! I mean yes, like that, but—just—come with me before I short-circuit or die or implode—whatever happens first.”

You could barely laugh before he’d grabbed your wrist, nervously leading you through the winding back halls of the science wing. Your heart pounded with curiosity and adrenaline. And when he stopped in front of a rarely used equipment storage room, unlocked it with trembling fingers, and stepped inside with you—oh. You knew what this was.

The second the door shut behind you, he turned to face you. Pink light flickered wildly in his hair.

“I-I don’t know how to do this kind of thing,” he admitted, words rushed. “But I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day and I feel like my brain’s doing that ‘blue screen of death’ thing because—holy crap—look at you.”

He hesitated. But you stepped closer, brushed your hand over his hoodie-clad chest, and smiled.

“Then stop thinking.”

That was all he needed.

He kissed you like he was afraid he’d glitch right through you. Soft at first—shy, hesitant, stuttering against your lips like a program still loading—but then something changed. His hand slid around your waist, and he groaned softly against your mouth as he leaned in, lips parting with yours like he’d forgotten everything but this moment.

The taste of cola from his favorite energy drink lingered faintly on his tongue. His other hand came up to cup your cheek, surprisingly warm despite how jittery he was, and he tilted your head like he was learning how to really kiss you.

“Is this okay?” he whispered, breathless.

“It’s perfect,” you murmured, brushing your nose against his.

He smiled—a real one. Soft. Rare. Beautiful.

“Achievement unlocked: Most Unbelievable Moment Ever.”

Silver

Silver usually wore serenity like a second skin—calm, gentle, a touch sleepy. But sometimes, sometimes, something inside him cracked through that dreamy exterior. Especially when he was exhausted, emotional… or desperate for you.

You noticed it after a long, grueling day of training with Lilia. Silver had taken on too much—again. You caught him nodding off in the garden, sword still in hand, posture rigid even in sleep. When you knelt beside him and gently touched his shoulder, his eyes snapped open—cloudy, tired, but focused on you.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice rough. “Come with me.”

You barely had time to respond before he stood, took your hand, and started leading you. His fingers were warm but firm. There was something off—different. Not bad. Just… intense.

“Silver?” you asked softly.

“I had a dream,” he murmured. “You were in it. And when I woke up, you were here. And I… couldn’t tell if it was still a dream.”

The hallway was quiet. He led you into an unused classroom, probably one of the knight training theory rooms, filled with old armor and worn-down desks. He locked the door behind him.

Then he turned to you, his eyes darkened with exhaustion and longing.

“Let me stay here a while,” he whispered. “With you. Like in the dream.”

Before you could reply, his lips were on yours—slow, deep, full of emotion. It wasn’t rushed. It was aching. Like every part of him had been waiting for this. His hands were gentle as they cupped your waist, pulling you flush against him, and he kissed you like someone who dreamed of this moment too many times to waste it now.

His breath hitched when you kissed him back, and his hand slid up your back, burying into your hair, holding you there like he needed to make sure you were real.

“I’m always slipping between sleep and wake,” he murmured into your skin. “But this? This is the clearest I’ve felt all day.”

You felt your heart squeeze at the quiet vulnerability in his voice. His forehead rested against yours, and you swore you saw the faintest smile curve his lips.

“If this is a dream,” he added, eyes fluttering shut, “don’t wake me up.”

[bakuhve]

ruggie bucchi has always been scrappy. sharp eyes, sharp teeth, and even sharper instincts. in the harsh slums of the afterglow savanna, it was survival of the fastest, the smartest, the greediest. and ruggie was all three.

that’s why he doesn’t share. not his food, not his money, not his time. if he has a full belly and jingly pockets, that’s all he needs. or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

until you.

you, with your dumb little pack of emergency snacks. you, who breaks your bread in half before you even take a bite. you, who laughs and calls him a “scavenger” when he swipes extra pastries from the cafeteria, but never once judges him for it. you, who says “thanks” even when he hands you a squished onigiri from his pocket, like it’s gourmet.

it started small. he started to pretend he was too full, offering you the last dumpling. tosses you a wrapped rice ball, says it’s a “favor” so you owe him later.

but the truth? the raw, scary truth?

he wants to share. wants to see you eat. wants to feed you like it proves something he can’t say out loud.

maybe it’s love. maybe it’s loyalty. maybe it’s the terrifying realization that he’d go hungry if it meant seeing you full.

and that is terrifying. because ruggie bucchi does not share.

except with you.

[bakuhve]

hello! So far you have made really good post, and it made me think, what if you made one about bakugou x y/n, they JUST started making out and started this thing where after class and even the cafeteria hours they would go to the roof top and make out, and then come back to class and act like nothing ever happened. Also somtimes he would throw a paper and secretly desk her under the desk where they would meet up. 😍

it started with one kiss.

honestly, you don’t even remember what triggered it. something stupid in class, probably, like you calling him out under your breath and him daring you to say it up close. one second you were bickering in the hallway, and the next, his hand was gripping your jaw, his lips demanding against yours.

after that? yeah, it quickly became a habit.

after class, during lunch, any spare moment the both of you could steal, he’d slip a crumpled piece of paper onto your desk with one word:

“roof.”

no punctuation. just urgency.

you’d show up a few minutes later, heart pounding like it was your first time, only to be yanked behind the rooftop door and kissed like he hadn’t seen you in years.

hands tangled in hair, breaths short, uniform slightly rumpled. and then the bell would ring, and he’d pull away with a low and frustrated growl. you’d fix your tie. he’d fix his attitude.

by the time you were both back in the classroom, it was like nothing had happened. no one knew, not a soul.

except maybe mina, who kept side-eyeing bakugou’s flushed ears every time he walked back into the room with that barely disguised smirk.

sometimes he’d get bold. like leaning over during lessons and bump your knee under the desk. or toss you a note with nothing but a time and a smug little “tch.”

you played it cool, of course.

but every rooftop meeting only made the secret sweeter.

and every time he muttered, “you’re mine, y’know that?” against your lips, you’d nod like you didn’t already know.

[bakuhve]

“I will love you forever and when ‘forever’ ends, I’ll love you some more.”

For the event, can I request Malleus for this? I need to send ALL my love to him ASAP. Although for this, feel free to have him being the one saying it to reader.

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 1.2k

Prompt 51: "I will love you forever and when ‘forever’ ends, I’ll love you some more."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

There was something about being in love with a fae that would always be at least a little intimidating.

No, it wasn’t the unearthly powers that could literally rip through the fabric of time and space with a snap of his fingers. No, it wasn’t the cold, serpentine stare or the sharp fangs in his mouth that shined like well-polished knives under the right light. It wasn’t even the horns. Even though they added an extra foot onto the dragon’s already stupidly impressive height.

But there were other things, sometimes. Less tangiblethings.

You tried not to think about it too much, because you loved Tsunotarou. Really, you did. And you didn’t want some… some creeping thing at the fringes of your consciousness to ruin that.

It was cold tonight, and you puffed warm breath onto your fingers. Normally Malleus was the one waiting for you to arrive at your usual Gargoyle Filled haunts, but he’d had a meeting with his retainers today. And you weren’t surprised he was running a bit late in the aftermath.

‘Man, I’m surprised Draconia is ever on time for anything,’ Ace had complained, during some mandatory assembly or other. Watching as Malleus floated into the room a solid two hours after scheduled.

‘He’s usually very punctual,’ you’d answered, confused.

‘Sure, sure. But don’t fae have, like, super fucked up senses of time?’ the redhead mused. ‘Like I bet you could tell him to meet you in an hour and he’d show up a week later or something.’

“Child of man,” a familiar timbre called out over the snow, and you perked up immediately, hopping from foot to foot to get your circulation going again before trotting out to meet him halfway.

“Tsunotarou!” you chirped. “How was your day?”

“Dreadful,” he answered, deadpan, and bent his arm neatly so that you could tuck your fingers into the crook of his elbow and snuggle yourself into his side. He was like a walking furnace, what with the roaring, emerald fires in his belly. And the snowflakes seemed to melt before they’d even touched his skin. “Nothing but paperwork. Perhaps I should turn them all into enchanted quills, and then they might finally be fit for their positions.”

You snorted into your glove. “You’d need to turn some of them into ink then, too.”

“Ah, of course,” he intoned. And then shot you a smirk that was just on the right side of besotted. “Whatever would I do without your wise guidance?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you teased, and then smiled right back in that stupidly, soppy way. “But you seemed more than smart enough to manage on your own before I came along. And I’m sure you’ll go back to being brilliant when I’m gone,” you added on a laugh.

But Malleus didn’t join in your giggling.

The fae stopped in place, and you were dragged to a halt with him. You blinked up at him, confused. His expression was… complicated.

“You are leaving?” he asked, each word sounding like it had to be pried out of his mouth with a crowbar.

“What?” you blinked. “Of course not.” Crowley never having bothered to lift a feathery finger to find you a way home aside, you had more than enough reasons to stay here for as long as your meager, mortal life would allow. Going home… it soured something in your stomach that you didn’t even want to consider. So you just tightened your fingers around his arm and shot him as reassuring of a smile as you could muster. “Even if I had the choice, I’d be staying right here.”

But that just made Malleus’s brow pinch up tighter.

“Then what did you mean?” he questioned, perplexed. “When you said ‘when I’m gone.’”

Ah.

You fought a guilty wince. You hadn’t wanted to drag your own little terrors into his worries as well. You really needed to get a better leash on the poor quips that managed to tumble out of your mouth.

“Well, just that, uhm…” You waved your free hand awkwardly. “You know.”

More furrowing.

“I do not,” he said, sounding grumpy. It was a bit adorable, seeing an almighty prince and near God pout at you. But you fought off the urge to coo over his pursed lips and scrunched nose. Time and place, self. Time and place.

“I’m mortal,” you said finally, hoping that would cover it.

“And?”

Ugh. Come on, dude. Give me something here.

You shrugged, tight and awkward. “Just that, well, you know. Your lifespan is near infinite right? And mine is sort of set to be…” You held up your fingers and pinched them close together. “Uhm. Not that.”

“And you think that such an inconsequential factor means that you will be leaving me?” he asked, and you blinked at him in outright confusion.

“It’s pretty consequential,” you squeaked out, and averted your gaze. “And.. and besides. I knew that from the beginning. And I just want to be able to make the best out of the time with you that I have,” you said, hoping it sounded properly reassuring and not like the start of a particularly peppy obituary.

“…I see,” the Prince said, low. “But that doesn’t mean you’ll be gone, I’m sure.”

You blinked again, owlish and slow.

“Pardon?”

“What is the human expression…?” he hummed, tucking your arm back tightly against his side and starting up your leisurely stroll once more. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder? Almost so much as time itself.”

Yeah, you wanted to amend. But not from beyond the grave.

“I guess so,” you shrugged.  

“Can you imagine then,” he hummed. “How much I’ll love you in a thousand years?”

“I—” you swallowed, feeling tears prick at the back of your eyes.

But rather than give your poor, fluttering soul a chance to recover, he just pushed onwards.

“I will love you forever, and when ‘forever’ ends, I suppose that I’ll just love you even more,” he said, perfectly level and serious, like he hadn’t just absolutely pulled your heart out of your chest and set the whole of you on fire.

You stared up at his regal, handsome face from beneath a soft veil of falling snow. With those cold, emerald eyes, the pointed fangs, the horns. You felt like your stomach had fallen out at your toes, like the whole of you was bound to float away like a balloon lost in the breeze. Because he’d said—he’d really—

“And of course,” the dragon shrugged. “I’ve always intended to extend your lifespan to begin with.”

You gaped at him wordlessly for a moment, before letting out a hideously embarrassed squawk and pounding at his chest with your gloved hands.

“You could’ve told me that!” you shrieked, practically steaming in the cold with the heat pulsing off your cheeks.

“I suppose,” he smirked, catching your flailing fists easily in one of his own large hands. “But then I wouldn’t have been able to see your reaction to my declarations, would I?” he cooed, all smooth, dark chocolate and smoky embers. “And I had to work so hard to memorize those lines. Fitting as they are, I was told that the moment to use them would have to be perfect, and—"

“Did Lilia set you up for this?” you choked.

Malleus snorted and turned to tug you further down the path. “Only a little.”

.

.