#1k event

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“C’mon, try it.”

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

“Exactly. Now open up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Leona snorts softly. “Idiots.”

“Yeah, but they’re my idiots.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blink. Then blink again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You: Cornered. Help.

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

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

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

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

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

The boys shift uncomfortably, exchanging nervous glances.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like you’re impressed.”

“Oh, but I am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The assignment in front of you is a nightmare.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blink as he pulls the paper closer.

"Leona, what are you—"

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

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

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

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

"Easy for you, maybe."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And yeah, you could definitely get used to this.

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Leona?”

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

You clear your throat. “What are we?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, holding your breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Leona shrugs. “Yeah. Same thing.”

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

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

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

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

Oh no. He’s loving this way too much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Ace. I am.”

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

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

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

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

“You’re definitely telling him.”

“No, you tell him!”

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

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

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

“Yeah, because you sneezed on him.”

“It was allergy season!”

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

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

“Gee, thanks, Grim.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1k masterlist ; Main Masterlist

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

You peered into the room. A figure sat in front of an enormous vanity table, studying his reflection in a gilded mirror. His back was to you, but you could see his face in the glass as he fastened a pair of dangling pearls into his ears. The man caught you watching him and smiled, then he stood up.

Your breath hitched as if someone had punched you in the chest. Beautiful was not adequate to describe him: he had flowing dark hair, sinfully long legs, and a face that would make angels weep. He was dressed in a long-sleeved white shirt with a ruffled collar, and black trousers that artfully hugged his slender waist and firm thighs.

"Would you mind helping me?" he asked.

Your brain was still short-circuiting by how striking he was and for an embarrassing moment you stood there unable to respond. The man laughed and reached for your hand, his touch sending pleasant shivers through you before you registered something soft in your fingers.

A length of white fabric. You stared at it in confusion until he turned around.

"It always looks messy when I do it myself."

Oh-- oh. He wanted you to tie his hair back.

You cleared your throat. "Of course."

The dark strands were impossibly soft, hints of vanilla and sandalwood oils flooding your senses. You carefully gathered his hair, threading your fingers through it to smooth out any unruly sections, and he tilted his back back into your touch.

You didn't want to let go when you'd finished, but you forced yourself to take a step back. "There."

The man faced you once more, still smiling. "Thank you."

He dipped into a bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Excellency. My name is Hyunjin."

Hyunjin. You couldn't tell if it was the name itself that was lovely, or the way it rolled off his tongue.

"Please, call me Y/N."

Hyunjin's smile widened. "Y/N."

It wasn't often that anyone called you by your name, and you decided you particularly liked hearing Hyunjin say it.

"I'm very happy to have this time with you," Hyunjin continued. "I hope it's not too bold of me, but you look very pretty tonight."

It wasn't often that anyone called you pretty either. Not that you weren't, but the company you kept consisted mainly of servants who wouldn't dare to proposition the Grand Counselor, or enemies of the Empire who were more likely to chop off your head than appreciate your high cheekbones.

"Thank you Hyunjin. I'm... happy to have this time with you as well."

The words sounded wooden and awkward and you wanted to kick yourself. Your literal job is talking to people, how are you so bad at this?

Would Hyunjin be offended? You glanced at him, but to your surprise he was watching you with fond amusement.

"You've never done this before have you?"

You grimaced. "Is it that obvious?"

Hyunjin giggled and took your hand. "Come, let's get a bit more comfortable."

He led you across the room and sat down on the edge of the huge bed, pulling you down beside him so that your knees were touching. The lilac bedspread with its gold threaded embroidery looked every bit as expensive as your own bedsheets in the Imperial Palace. Hyunjin didn't let go of your hand and rested your intertwined fingers on top of his thigh.

"So what made you decide to visit The Levanter, Y/N?"

"Well, I didn't decide, " you admitted. "The Emperor sent me here. Apparently he thinks I've been too stressed lately."

Hyunjin nodded. "I can imagine being the Grand Counselor is very stressful." He played with your fingers in his lap, tracing patterns along your skin. "What do you usually do when you feel stressed?"

It was difficult to concentrate when Hyunjin was touching you. "Uhh, honestly? I don't remember a time when I wasn't stressed. I think I've just learned to live with it. What do you do when you're stressed?"

He glanced up at you, perhaps surprised by the question (you imagined that most clients were too preoccupied with their own pleasure to bother asking the courtesans questions), then looked over at the wall. "I paint."

You followed his gaze and saw that the walls of his room were indeed hung with paintings, and marvellous ones at that.

"You painted these?" you asked.

Hyunjin nodded.

"They're wonderful," you said, honestly. The fingers holding yours suddenly squeezed tighter.

"Really?"

"Really," you told him. "I like the flowers especially, they're delicate and pretty... but sad at the same time? You put a lot of emotion into the pieces, and that takes real talent--"

The rest of your sentence was cut off by Hyunjin climbing into your lap. Suddenly his face was inches from yours, his soft breath fanning your cheek and firm thighs straddling your own. You noticed his face was tinged pink and he was staring at your lips.

Desire pooled hot in your stomach, and with it your anxiousness faded. The natural confidence that had abandoned you on the threshold of The Levanter began to ressert itself. You slid your hands around his waist and pulled him even closer.

"I bet painting isn't the only talent you have," you whispered.

Instead of answering, Hyunjin pressed his lips against yours. Sparks shot through your body and one of you made a soft noise in the back of your throat, but you couldn't tell if it came from you or Hyunjin. His lips were plump and warm and he kissed you as if the world might end the moment he stopped.

When his mouth opened and his tongue wove around yours, your hands tightened to fists in the material of his shirt. You needed more of him, now.

Evidently, Hyunjin was thinking the same thing. He drew back and gripped the hem of his white shirt, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. You were surprised by how toned his body was: he looked lithe and slender with clothes on, but his delicate facial features were misleading. His arms were corded with muscle and you traced the firm lines of his abdomen with your fingertip, thrilling as he hissed under your touch.

"You're so perfect Hyunjin," you said. "Makes me want to take you apart until you're begging for me."

Hyunjin whimpered at that. "Fuck Y/N..."

So he likes to be dominated... It seems you picked the right key...

Hands grabbed desperately at your robes and you allowed him to slide the material off your shoulders, exposing your chest and stomach. Hyunjin stared unashamedly at your breasts, then pushed you down onto the bed and climbed on top of you, eliciting a gasp when his mouth fastened on one of your nipples.

You could feel his hardness pressing into your stomach, how much he wanted you. It occurred to you then that what had been holding you back, and making you so uncharacteristically unsure of yourself, was that you couldn't be certain Hyunjin truly wanted this. Even though the Madam had made it clear that he could refuse if he chose to, you needed to know.

You gripped his face and pulled it off your breast, shivering at the sudden cold. He stared up at you, mouth open, cheeks flushed, the hair you had tied already coming loose.

"Are you sure?" you asked. "We can stop."

Understanding passed over his face immediately. Hyunjin seemed at a loss for words, and then his expression softened. You wondered whether anyone had ever actually asked for his consent before.

He turned his face into your hand and kissed your palm, never breaking eye contact. "I don't want to stop."

He kissed you again, more passionately than before, nipping your lips between his teeth. His next words came out in a trembling breath.

"Y/N please."

That was all the confirmation you needed. You flipped him over so that you were now on top, pinning him under your hips. Fuck, he looked good spread out beneath you. Hyunjin bit his lip, grinning as your eyes roamed hungrily over his body. His erection was painfully obvious, fully hard and straining against his trousers.

"Take these off," you instructed.

Hyunjin hastened to oblige, shoving his pants and trousers down at the same time and allowing his dick to spring free. He was definitely on the bigger side, average girth but long and with a natural curve you could already tell was going to feel so good inside you.

"Even your dick is pretty, what the fuck Hyunjin."

He let out a genuine laugh at that, but it quickly turned into a gasp when your hand trailed along the underside of his shaft and into the small patch of dark hair by his belly button.

You leant down and ever so gently brushed your lips along his cock, which twitched in anticipation. "Tell me what you want."

Hyunjin groaned. "Anything... You... Fuck I don't care."

"Ah ah," you scolded him. "Be specific or I'll tell you to put your clothes back on."

"No!" he cried, writhing under you. "Okay okay."

Hyunjin sat up on his elbows so that you were face-to-face. For the first time, he looked slightly nervous. "You want to know what I really want?"

You nodded. "Tell me."

He turned around and reached for something beside the headboard of the bed, and a few seconds later you saw that it was a pair of manacles with a silver chain attached.

Hyunjin shoved them into your hands. "I want you to chain me to the bed."

He pressed his body against you, mouthing a trail of wet kisses up your neck. You had not been expecting this -- for Hyunjin to put himself so completely at your mercy -- but you certainly weren't complaining.

You grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the bed, and that alone had beads of precum glistening on his tip. You couldn't resist flicking your tongue over them, tasting him, and Hyunjin made a choked noise and bucked under you.

"You taste as sweet as you look," you smiled, kissing the soft skin of his inner thigh.

Hyunjin lay obediently still as you fastened the manacles around his wrists, one by one, then sat back to admire the sight of him naked and tied to the bed. His chest was heaving and he tugged on the chains experimentally, clearly enjoying the sensation of being restrained.

"So this is what you like to do with your clients?" you grinned.

Hyunjin looked at you then slowly shook his head. "I like being chained up, but only when I trust the person."

You were touched, both by his trust and his raw honesty. You leant down to kiss him again and then almost as an afterthought removed the rest of your clothing. You had been so distracted by Hyunjin you had forgotten about it (although who could blame you when he looked so sinful chained up beneath you?).

Now you were both naked.

Hyunjin stared eagerly over your bare skin, down to the spot between your thighs and you saw him straining towards you.

"Come closer, please, I need to feel you," he whispered.

You shuffled forward and settled yourself on his stomach, just above where you both desperately wanted. You were only trying to tease him -- fuck you were already wet and literally dripping onto him -- but then Hyunjin surprised you once again.

"Sit on my face, please Y/N. I want to make you feel good."

Your eyes widened. How many times was this man going to catch you off guard tonight? No-one had ever asked you to do that before. Partners had gone down on you, sure, but never with you on top.

But the way Hyunjin was looking at you, with such wanton desire, made your pussy throb. You moved up his body until your knees were either side of his head and you brushed the hair away from his forehead where it was sticky with sweat.

"Such a pretty boy to be so filthy."

Hyunjin groaned -- no it wasn't a groan. It was impatient, demanding, more like a growl.

"Just sit on my face and let me taste your cunt."

A shiver of pleasure stole through you at his boldness, but you tried to play it off. "Bossy."

And then you lowered yourself to his waiting mouth and your entire world dissolved into white-hot ecstasy. Hyunjin's tongue lapped over your wet folds and sucked on your clit so expertly it took less than a minute to have you gasping and gripping the headboard to hold yourself upright.

He moaned against you and you could fucking feel the vibrations inside you and it took every last ounce of your self-control not to scream and have your bodyguards thinking someone was murdering the Grand Counselor. Although even if they burst into the room now, even if the Emperor himself walked in and commanded you to stop, you didn't think you could.

"Fuck... Hyunjin."

He moaned again and nipped at your clit in a way that should have been painful but somehow had you keening and grinding down even harder. You could feel a climax beginning to build and if he kept going you weren't going to last.

Just when you thought it couldn't possibly feel any better, Hyunjin's tongue dipped inside you and you cried out.

"Hyunjin! Fuck... Oh my God!"

His tongue plunged into your cunt again and again while you grinded your clit against his nose and it was so so good and you wanted him to keep going longer but you were right on the edge--

"Hyunjin! I'm... I'm coming fuck!"

Your orgasm exploded through you in waves that electrified your entire body. Your legs shook as your core pulsed with soaring pleasure over and over, unlike anything you had ever felt. Gradually the waves died down and you chased the aftershocks before finally falling limp against the headboard.

When you looked down, Hyunjin was gazing up at you. He looked just as wrecked as you felt. His face was soaked and glistening wet with your release and you felt a twinge of embarrassment, but there was only blissful satisfaction on his face.

"Still breathing down there?" you asked, panting.

"I've had people come on my face before," he answered. "But I've never felt someone come with my tongue inside them."

"That makes two of us."

You reached blindly behind you and grabbed the first thing you laid your hand on, not knowing or caring whether it was one of Hyunjin's clothes or yours, then carefully wiped his face clean. You kissed him, tasting yourself on his lips, and he hummed into your mouth.

"I nearly came just from watching you," he admitted. "But I wanted to wait until I can be inside you. If you felt that good on my tongue you're going to feel fucking amazing on my cock."

You grinned. "I was thinking the same thing."

You had barely come down from your first orgasm, but you wanted more. Hyunjin was making you greedy, it was his fault for being so gorgeous and devilishly skilled. Now you understood why so many people had wanted to run away with him after only one night.

You sat back on your heels and wrapped your hand around his achingly hard cock, giving it a few strokes. Hyunjin must have been extra sensitive after not being touched for so long and he keened into you.

"Ah! Y/N! Fuck don't do that," he whined. "I won't last and I wanna come inside you."

You had discussed contraception with the Madam and she assured you that the men of The Levanter were clean, and you were on a protective prescribed by the Grand Physician. She told you that the courtesans were all more than willing to use additional protection if necessary, but right now you wanted Hyunjin's cock inside you. Wanted to feel him come inside you.

You lined him up to your entrance and both of you gasped at the first nudge of pressure as the head of his cock slipped inside you. The stretch was more than you anticipated and you took him in slowly, sliding your body down and feeling your walls expand to accommodate his length.

The chains rattled as Hyunjin writhed and moaned beneath you. "Ah... Y/N... F-feels so good, fuck!"

When you were finally fully seated, you paused to let your body adjust and leant down to kiss and lick at Hyunjin's neck and across his collarbones. You could tell he was trying so hard not to buck his hips up into you, waiting for your permission.

"You've been so good to me," you whispered against his sweaty skin. "Now I want to be good to you."

You braced your hands against his chest, and began to move. Immediately Hyunjin threw his head back against the pillows and let out a loud groan, one he must have been holding in. His dark hair fanned out around him and his kiss-swollen lips fell open in delicious noises of pleasure that spurred you on as you bounced on his cock.

The angle combined with Hyunjin's natural curve hit your g-spot dead on and it felt so fucking good... but you still wanted more.

More more more

What was it about this man that meant you couldn't get enough? Hyunjin suddenly looked up at you, as if he had somehow heard your thoughts, and without saying a word he braced his feet against the bed for leverage and began thrusting up into you.

A strangled cry tore from your lips.

"Yes," you whimpered.

Your nails dug sharp crescents into his chest, but Hyunjin didn't seem to care. His eyes never left yours as he bucked his hips hard again and again, fucking you at a mind-blowingly fast pace.

"Oh oh oh."

You were no longer capable of forming words, either of you. He was so deep inside you, hitting so hard with every desperate thrust and the way he was looking at you so intensely--

"Y/N," he managed to say. "I-I can't... I'm gonna--"

"I know," you gasped. "Me too."

Following an impulse, you reached up to wrap your fingers around his neck and simultaneously squeezed your walls around his cock as hard as you could.

Hyunjin lost it. He shouted your name and his hips stuttered as his orgasm hit full-force, sending you over the edge as well. You came hard together, riding the high as it crested even stronger than the first time and you arched your back and clutched onto Hyunjin like your life depended on it.

When it was over you collapsed onto his chest, completely spent. It took a good few minutes for you to regain your senses: you had always thought people were exaggerating when they said they nearly passed out when they came, but you would happily admit you were wrong.

Eventually you lifted your head to look at Hyunjin. He was a mess, but he was also smiling and sated and still so beautiful. Perhaps even more beautiful than before.

You unclasped the manacles from his wrists then lay down next to him, and he rolled onto his side and mirrored your position. Neither of you spoke for a time.

Hyunjin's hand stroked up and down your arm, wordlessly comforting you. In return you placed feather light kisses across his chest which was now covered in your nail marks. An arm wrapped around your waist and you felt Hyunjin's lips tenderly kiss your temple.

You could have easily fallen asleep in his arms, but a tentative knock at the door shattered your peace.

"Ahem... Your Excellency?" One of your bodyguards. "We should get back to the Palace before dawn."

You could have sworn Hyunjin's arms tightened around you, as if he didn't want to let you go, but you probably imagined it. You wished you could tell your bodyguards to fuck off, but you knew he was right. The Emperor would expect you back by morning.

Sighing, you sat up in the bed. "Just a moment."

You dressed swiftly and silently, aware now that anything you said would be overheard and feeling as if whatever brief moment of intimacy you and Hyunjin had shared had been snatched away. He watched you dress yourself and sat forward when you perched on the edge of the bed, ready to leave.

All of a sudden, you were back where you started and didn't know what to say. "I um... I--"

Once again, Hyunjin saved you from your own awkwardness by pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. A kiss which said everything that needed saying.

You pressed your forehead against his. "I should go."

"Wait."

Hyunjin reached into one of the drawers by the bed and placed a small coin in your hand. It appeared to be real gold with a symbol carved into the centre.

"What's this?"

"It's my token," Hyunjin said. He smiled and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "If you want to see me again, just give this to the Madam. You won't have to pay."

You stared at the coin in your palm, letting the words sink in.

Another knock on the door, more insistent this time.

"Coming!" you snapped.

You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him again, and Hyunjin kissed you back just as eagerly.

"I will come back," you promised.

"You'd better," Hyunjin replied.

With great reluctance, you stood up and made your way to the door. You paused with one hand on the doorknob, taking one last look at Hyunjin where he lay on his stomach, still naked and smiling that wicked smile.

Fucking hell... This damn place was going to be the death of you.

Taglist

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