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twst-trash · 2 years

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❥• 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧-𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐝

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Summary: Leona invites you to a royal gala in the Sunset Savanna and you learn that he likes you more than he tries to let on.

wc: 5.2k (!)

content warnings: Jealous!Leona x fem!reader, 18+ smut. Jealousy, breeding kink, scenting, Pining™️. Featuring a cliché love rival and my own take on Queen Kingscholar. Just a little something I wrote to pull me out of the funk I’ve been in lately.

“Tch, I hate this kind of shit.” Leona mumbles as he fiddles with his cufflinks in the mirror. His hair is tied into an unkempt ponytail, stray mahogany locks cascading over his face haphazardly. He looks so different standing there in formal attire- you’re so used to seeing him in his barely buttoned NRC uniform and god-awful sandals- but his demeanor remains unchanged. A small smile pulls at the corner of your mouth as you watch him jam an ungracious finger between his canine and incisor, double checking for any hidden crumbs leftover after brushing his teeth this morning.

Behold, you think, the ever elegant Second Prince: Leona Kingscholar.

(Truthfully, you were more than surprised when Leona showed up to the Ramshackle Dorm before winter break and propositioned the trip back to his homeland.

“I gotta take someone with me to this stupid gala.” He had said to you, hunched in the low arch of the doorframe. His body was comically compressed, folding in on himself as he tried to bully his way into the dorm. “My brother won’t shut his trap about needing me to bring a partner. Said he’d just pick someone at the palace to be my chaperone if I couldn’t get anyone.”

You looked the beastman up and down, an eyebrow quirking inquisitively. “So you want me to waste my winter break babysitting you?”

A subtle flash of hurt crossed his features for just a moment before an almost imperceptible rumble started in the back of Leona’s throat. “You know what? Forget about it- I shoulda known you’d be a brat about this.” He all but growled, contorting his body once more as he motioned to close the door.

“Wait.” You sighed and grasped the doorknob before Leona could pull it shut. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t go.”)

And thus you had been thrust into the mirror portal to the Sunset Savanna, woefully unqualified for a fancy royal party.

Leona’s tux, an amber-gold suit that fit sophisticatedly against his body and nipped in at his well-defined waist, only serves to remind you of how underdressed and unprepared you are for the occasion. No matter how juxtaposed by his behavior, Leona looks like royalty- and you, markedly, do not. It was one of your main arguments against coming: the fact that your wardrobe lacked anything acceptable for the foreign diplomats that were apparently visiting the palace. Hell, even your NRC uniform was an old moth-eaten hand-me-down nearly unacceptable to attend school in, but Leona had insisted that he’d find you a dress some way or another.

“Amali probably has somethin’ you can wear.” He had mentioned to you before, sizing you up in a way that made you feel small. “She’s always collecting dresses to sew and repurpose, she’s gotta have something in your size.”

Even if his sister-in-law could perform the miracle of making you look the part, you were still miles away from acting the part. Of course, if Leona were your only benchmark for royal behavior, you’d have already mastered the art. Unfortunately, you have also met Amali Kingscholar, who is effortlessly elegant and poised in all the ways that you are not.

– but even cotillion classes and dresses lined with ridiculously expensive tulle could not prepare you for the most jarring part of coming to the Sunset Savanna. No, the most jarring part of coming to the Sunset Savanna is learning that Leona is the most eligible bachelor in the kingdom. It makes sense when you stop to think about it; he’s the second prince, a (supposedly) soon-to-be graduate of Night Raven College, and, you can begrudgingly admit, devastatingly attractive. From the moment you arrived in the Sunset Savanna, Leona had been bombarded by attractive Lionesses, sticking sweetly to his side and glaring daggers at you for even stepping foot into the kingdom. Their stories were all slightly different (“Remember me, Leona? We used to play together as cubs!”, “I’m the baker’s daughter- you used to love to come in and try our mince pies.”, “Cheka and my niece go to the same preschool!”) but served the same purpose: to endear themselves to the boy you had been not-so-secretly pining over since you had accidentally stepped on his tail in the botanical gardens.

You struggle to define your relationship with Leona, still unsure if you can call yourselves friends. You certainly didn’t consider him to be a friend in the same way you saw Ace and Deuce, though he seemed to be around just as often. It wasn’t entirely your fault for being unsure; Leona purposely made himself hard to read. He’d accuse you of never leaving him alone but invite himself over to the Ramshackle Dorm for a nap on your couch in the same breath. The lion had finessed himself as an immovable fixture in your life, yet you held each other at an arm's length, too afraid of something to get to know each other better (much to the chagrin of Ace, who emphatically exclaims that the two of you need to ‘bone each other and get over it already’ at any chance that presents itself).

Despite the bickering and posturing and fights that Ruggie regularly needs to mediate, Leona is still always there, for better or for worse. He’s still the one who gives you too much money when he sends you to fetch him lunch (‘and get yourself somethin’ to eat if there’s some leftover, I guess’) and the one who’s always suspiciously present to bail you out whenever you find yourself running into trouble. Maybe that should be enough for you- knowing that he cares in his own way. Maybe it shouldn’t feel so awful to see other people flirt with him and, even worse, see him flirt back. Still, as the castle workers flit in and out of Leona’s spacious bedroom, commenting on his attire and using every stray thread or crooked tie as an excuse to allow their hands to linger, you can’t help the sharp sting of jealousy that shoots through your viscera.

It’s far too easy to forget that Leona is a prince with the way he acts, but the longer you spend in the palace, the more it becomes the only thing you can think about.

“I hate this shit.” Leona repeats again, scowling at his reflection in a way that almost confirms your suspicion that his ever-sour expression is practiced. He throws the jacket off of his shoulders and onto the floor with little regard, watching as the fabric crumples in on itself. You’re sure that the maids, who had flattened out every solitary wrinkle several times over, wouldn’t mind having more work to do if that meant being able to run their hands along Leona’s broad chest once more.

“Mhm,” You hum affirmatively. “You’re making it hard to forget that you do.”

“Shut it, herbivore.” Leona rolls his eyes. He undoes the first few buttons of his undershirt and folds the sleeves above his forearms in an attempt to get more comfortable while he still could. “Aren’t you supposed to meet Amali to get fitted, anyway? Gala’s in about an hour.”

“Just wanted to make sure you were actually getting ready- isn’t that part of my job as chaperone?” You say, waggling your eyebrows at him. Leona shoves you and you fall onto his bed dramatically, a breathy laugh expelling itself from your chest on impact. “Is that any way to treat a guest? Not very princely of you.”

“Dramatic brat.” He grouses, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. You can’t help the way your eyes trail up his forearm, admiring the shape of his muscles. “Think you oughta remember you’re in my palace. I could throw you out of the guest bedroom and let you succumb to the elements tonight.”

You prop yourself up on your elbow, unable to stop the smug grin that’s plastered onto your face. “You’d never.”

“Wanna bet?”

He bows his head, bringing his face closer to yours. You take a sharp breath despite your attempts to remain calm. If Leona got any closer, you’re sure your erratic heartbeat would give you away, too. It’s the closest you’ve been to him since having to share a bed during Azul’s contract and the first time you’ve really looked into his eyes. The emerald pools of color were usually masked in a layer of apathy or annoyance, but those features were noticeably absent from his expression as he stared back at you, pupils dilated and lips parted ever-so-slightly. His gaze travels down to your own lips and you feel your face heat from his scrutiny. All of a sudden, you’re self-conscious. Are your lips chapped? How is your breath?

You’d be lying if you tried to convince yourself that Leona wasn’t always so pretty, especially now as he peers down at you, eyes half-lidded and trained on your unmoving lips.

“You think I wouldn’t?” He mutters, close enough to feel his breath on your cheek. His tone is deathly serious. You’re not sure he’s still talking about throwing you out, not when his lips hover right above yours

- and then there’s a knock.

“My liege?” A small voice calls from outside Leona’s door. The sound is enough for Leona to pull back, creating a considerable amount of distance between the both of you in mere seconds. The cloud of static uncertainty is all at once lifted. “Queen Amali is looking for your guest.”

“She’s here.” Leona barks back as he stands from his place on the bed, a twinge of irritation dripping off every syllable. “Take her, we ain’t doin’ anything important.”

The female servant slowly opens the door, oblivious to the palpable tension present mere moments ago. Despite coming to fetch you, her gaze is fixed on Leona. She looks at the fabric on the ground with a frown and moves into the room to pick it up.

“You shouldn’t have taken off your jacket, sir. The guests should be arriving soon.” She sighs, opening the jacket for Leona to pull his arms through. The way she stares at him is not lost on you, and neither is the way that her hands linger on his chest for too long after adjusting his lapels. And he’s not stopping her. The way he could be so close to you in one moment and have another woman feel him up in the next makes your head spin.

“Ahem.”

The servant’s head turns to you, embarrassed, as if she had just taken stock of the fact you were there. “Right! So sorry, miss. Please follow me to Queen Amali’s chambers.”

You make sure to flip Leona off as you leave the room.

-----

The dress very nearly fits you without any alterations. The amber-gold dress matched Leona’s suit perfectly and was sleek against your body, dipping low to reveal the valley between your breasts. The slit that starts high up your thigh makes you question whether or not it was appropriate for the gala, but Amali was more than happy to pass the dress along to you.

“If it weren’t for the foreign diplomats coming, you probably would’ve been dressed in traditional Sunset Savanna attire.” Amali explained as she contemplated aloud about taking in the waist to have the fabric rest taut around your midsection. “But I’m glad it’s not- I’d love to have that custom made for you the next time you visit.”

The diplomats are already lining up in front of the palace by the time you see Leona again. Amali had insisted that you take your time with her personal makeup collection before the gala began. Being an all-boys school, NRC was unfortunately lacking in the makeup department, so aside from the times that Vil decided to experiment on you, you weren’t used to wearing makeup anymore. Still, slightly unblended eyeshadow aside, you thought you had done a decent job.

You can see Leona waiting at the bottom of the staircase, still fiddling with his cufflinks before the sound of your heels against the marble draws his attention. His eyes wash over your body, unashamedly staring at the way the fabric swishes in time with your steps as you head down the stairs from Amali’s personal sewing room.

“Well look at that,” He starts, still looking you up and down. “The herbivore cleans up well.”

He holds out his hand in an unexpected show of chivalry, and you happily take it. Leona holds you close as you enter the ballroom, amazed by the grandeur of it all. Only a few people besides the Kingscholar family and yourself were present in the room, including a small orchestral band that was in the final stages of setting up for the event. Tables were stationed near the back of the room, donned in expensive-looking gold tablecloths. You could see waiters chatting with each other as they set up their trays by the tables. You feel out of place as an attendee- in your mind, it would make more sense if you were working the party, serving food and drinks along with the busy team of servers.

Leona’s arm around your waist reassures you that, at least for tonight, you belong out here, with him, as an honored guest to the Kingscholar family.

It seems like the ballroom swells with people in the blink of an eye, the previously idling band already playing some smooth, sophisticated tune as the servers begin to mingle into the crowd, carrying glasses of champagne and bite-sized hors d'oeuvres.

“I have some things to take care of,” Leona leans down to whisper into your ear, squeezing the side of your hip reassuringly before pulling away. “I’ll be back, okay?”

You watch as he crosses the ballroom, side still tingling from the ghost of his touch. It’s hard to know what to do by yourself here. You’re unsure if it’s appropriate to socialize, gazing around the room to see if Farena or Amali were available enough to at least let you hover by them. Unfortunately, the King and the Queen are just as busy as Leona, talking to several important-looking people while Cheka runs about with some other royals around his age.

As for the business Leona needed to take care of… Your stomach churns at the sight of more women (and men) making flirty faces at him, touching him in a way that’s too familiar. You can’t help but wonder if he knows them. If he’s grown up with them, if they knew him more intimately than you ever would. A small part of you can dismiss the threat of the palace workers- they’d probably have no real chance of being with Leona- but the foreign royalty and big names in the Sunset Savanna sure do. Probably even more than you.

You grumble a small ‘thank you’ to the server whose tray you snatch a champagne flute from. You drink it far too fast to appear cordial, setting the empty flute back onto the tray before grabbing another one. Tonight was going to be a long, excruciating night.

— - -

It had been nearly an hour without Leona at your side. You sit at one of the tables near the corner, sulking, feeling like you’ve been stood up on a date. The champagne servers were now avoiding you, trying to wean you off from the golden liquid, so you had resorted to hoarding a small plate of hors d'oeuvres to yourself. Drowning your sorrows in beef tartare wasn’t the way you thought you’d be spending winter break. You’d long lost track of Leona in the bustle of the ballroom. If it weren’t for appearances, you would have already made your way back to the guest bedroom.

You feel a tap on your shoulder, instantly perking up.

“Fuck Leona, took you long enough-“ You begin, but as you turn around, the man behind you is most certainly not Leona.

The man looks down at you, raising an amused eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’ve been waiting for that lazy oaf this whole time.”

Normally you’d take offense to the insult on Leona’s character, but your anger at him abandoning you and the buzz of champagne wins out in the moment. Still, you cross your arms, apprehensive of the stranger in front of you. “I’m not waiting for anyone.”

“I’ve been watching you for a little while now,” the man admits, taking a seat next to you. His ochre eyes survey the empty champagne glasses and pile of hors d'oeuvres in front of you and chuckles to himself. “I can tell a heartbreak when I see it.”

You scoff, pulling the plate closer to you defensively. “I’m not heartbroken.”

“Mind telling me who you are, then?”

The beastman in front of you isn’t unattractive- quite the opposite, actually. His golden eyes are piercing, looking at you intensely. The shock of red hair that sits atop his head almost reminds you of Farena’s, but shaved along the sides so that the top could be neatly swooped over. His ears and tail have alternating streaks of orange and black pigment running across them, reminding you of a tiger.

“You first.” You challenge. He chuckles at that, standing from the table once more.

“Taiga.” He replies simply, bowing slightly and extending his hand. “Care for a dance while you wait for nothing?”

Normally you wouldn’t bother, but the jealousy you feel from seeing Leona with other women all night is still settled in the bottom of your stomach. Against your better judgment, you take his hand as he guides you to the dance floor, immediately seizing your waist and holding you close. You’re not accustomed to ballroom dancing at all, but you move slowly, letting Taiga take the lead.

His body is warm against yours, overwhelmed with a smell so unlike the beastman you were familiar with. It feels wrong, almost, to be dancing with someone other than Leona, but you weren’t exclusive- if he could dance and flirt and be touched, so could you. You sway together, awkwardly, to the tune of the live band the Kingscholars had hired.

“Taiga.” A voice growls from behind you. You’re startled out of your thoughts as Taiga pulls you closer.

“Ah, so the second prince makes an appearance.” Taiga smiles. “I was starting to wonder if you had abandoned the little one here. I was just looking after them for you.”

You scoff in disgust and try to wriggle out of his grasp, but he holds on strong.

“You have five seconds to get away from them.” Leona says, nearing the end of his patience. You can’t see Leona, still held in place by Taiga’s grip, but you can tell that he’s seething.

“Sorry, your majesty.” Taiga says, his voice dripping ingeniously, “I didn’t realize they were your mate. Your scent is just so weak on them- I guess that’s a problem you second princes have to deal with.”

That does it.

“If I catch you talking to my mate again, I’m reducing your whole country to dust.” Leona snarls, baring his teeth to the shorter male. “Write that down as a threat against your kingdom, I don’t give a fuck. I’ll have an embargo put on your kingdom’s ass from here to the Shaftlands if you so much as breathe in their general direction, just you fuckin’ see.”

Taiga releases you from his hold, throwing his hands up defensively. “You’ve made your point. No need to get testy. I’m sure your brother wouldn’t take kindly to learning you were making threats on his behalf.”

Finally free from under the tiger’s slimy grasp, you move to stand beside Leona. If the memory of his overblot wasn’t so recently etched into his mind, you’re sure the man in front of you would be nothing more than a pile of dust by now.

But Leona restrains himself, gripping your wrist and escorting you out of the ballroom and into the hallway leading to his room.

“You always find a way to get involved with the worst people.” He says under his breath.

What, like you? would be your playful answer, but you’re still angry at him for leaving you alone. “I don’t even know who that is.”

“Taiga Hon.” He practically spits. “First born prince to some-fuckin’-where. Certified asswipe and thorn in our sides. Even Farena doesn’t like him.”

You’re silent as the both of you walk further and further from the ballroom. Despite your lingering rage, you’re still relieved to be away from the room full of strangers and back in Leona’s presence.

“Don’t want you bein’ touched like that by anyone else.” Leona mutters, “‘specially not that princely Tiger fuckhead.”

“You’re one to talk.” You scoff, wriggling your wrist out of his grip. “Constantly flirting with your maids, letting them touch you too closely when they fit your tux, and now we’re at a gala where you’d rather entertain other lions and lionesses than pay attention to your date? You know, the person you kidnapped from their peaceful winter break at NRC?”

“So, I’m your date, hm?” Leona smirks, emerald eyes sparkling with delight as your face flushes.

“You’re insufferable.” Of course that’s the one thing he takes from your tirade. “But I’m your mate, apparently?”

“It’s just beastman talk,” He grumbles, though you can’t miss the uncharacteristic blush that spreads across his face. “Don’t let it get to your head, herbivore.”

“Right.” You hum affirmatively, almost bitterly. “I guess your real mate could be any one of those palace workers or lionesses back in the ballroom.”

Leona pauses, stopping in his tracks at your words. Before you can realize what’s happening, Leona has you up against the wall, wrists pinned above your head as he smashes his mouth into yours.

Your heartbeat is erratic, rattling against your ribcage as Leona presses into you. It feels so good to finally have him so close. His knee spreads your legs, bypassing the slit of your dress and pressing right against your clothed cunt. He swallows your moan, tongue working against your own, before he pulls back.

“It’s always been you, herbivore.” He mumbles against your lips. “You’ve always been mine.”

“I’m yours.” You breathe as he trails his lips along the side of your neck, nipping your collarbone in a way that makes you subconsciously rub against the leg between your thighs.

“And I’m yours.” Leona echos, releasing your wrists from his grasp. He lifts you with ease, placing your legs on either side of him, palms hot against your thighs as he leads you back into the bedroom. You wrap your arms around his neck, comforted by his familiar smell.

He pushes his bedroom door open and immediately lays you down on the bed. He discards his tuxedo jacket, carelessly tossing it aside, and quickly works to unbuckle his belt. Finally free of its constraints, you marvel at his erect cock, clenching your legs together at the sight.

“Had to stop myself from pushing your panties aside and fucking you right in that hallway.” Leona whispers hotly in your ear as he presses into you once more. He undoes the zipper along the side of your dress before peeling the shiny fabric off of you and tossing it to join his pile of clothes on the floor. “You really did look amazing in that dress.”

You gasp as he palms the outside of your panties, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth at your reaction.

“Already so wet for me.” He chuckles, trailing a finger up and down your clothed slit.

“Stop teasing.” You hiss impatiently, hips rolling into his touch.

“Patience, herbivore.”

He presses a kiss to your clothed pussy, nose bumping against your clit. He shoves the thin fabric aside and flattens his tongue against your entrance, lapping at your wetness. Your breath stutters out, gripping mahogany locks to try and ground yourself as Leona takes you with his mouth. His tongue expertly swirls around your clit, suckling lightly as he inserts his fingers deep inside your pussy.

His fingers and mouth work in tandem to unravel you; his free hand comes up to knead your clothed breasts, a muffled take it off spoken against your folds. You quickly remove your bra and Leona’s hand wastes no time in seizing your nipple between his forefinger and thumb.

“I’m close, Leona,” You gasp, clutching the back of his head even harder. He doesn’t let up, his hot mouth fully engulfing your clit, sucking and licking as his fingers press against the spongy roof of your pussy. Your body tenses as you hit your peak, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body as you cum.

“Mm, good girl.” Leona hums as he pulls away, a satisfied smirk plastered onto his face as he strokes his cock to the sight of you. He spreads your legs wider, folding you in on yourself as he teases the tip of his huge cock between your folds. You moan again, still sensitive from your first orgasm, but eager to accept his cock nonetheless.

“Want this?” He asks, tapping his cock against your clit. You can barely manage to whimper a yes, please before he’s slowly sinking into you. You can hear his own breath hitch as he’s engulfed in the warm, wet walls of your pussy.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Leona groans, stilling his hips as he bottoms out, waiting for you to grow accustomed to his length.

His head is buried in your neck, biting and nosing you, smearing his scent all over you as if to make a point.

“Move.” You whisper, a tiny command, gripping tight onto his shoulder.

Leona doesn’t have to be told twice, slowly withdrawing his cock before slamming it into you once more. His pace is unrelenting, barreling into you hard and fast, like you’d disappear out from under him if he didn’t.

“Mine.” He grunts before capturing your lips in his. “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours.” You affirm, breathlessly, fingernails scratching Leona’s back and leaving crescent-shaped indents in his flesh. His hand slips between your thighs, rubbing your clit with his thumb. It’s all too much, and you can feel the height of another orgasm approaching.

“You’re squeezing so tight around my cock,” Leona growls into your ear. “I’m gonna fucking cum inside of you.”

“Yes, fuck yes!” You whimper, your own orgasm threatening to wreck your body.

“Love this fucking pussy,” Leona mewls again. “Wanna fill you up so everyone knows you’re mine- have my seed dripping out of you while you talk to those stuffed shirts out there. Get you round with my cubs so everyone knows that You. Are. Mine.”

The last three words are punctuated by three deep thrusts that send you over the edge, chest heaving as your pussy pulsates around Leona’s cock. White warmth fills you as Leona cums deep inside, fucking you through the last throes of your orgasm.

He rolls over, sticking to your side sweatily and kissing the side of your neck. You turn to face him, arms wrapped around each other. It’s silent as the two of you bask in the afterglow.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.” Leona suddenly speaks up, one tired eye opening to look at you.

“Is that why you were so flirty?” You groan, fighting the urge to smother him in a pillow.

“Maybe.” He says, closing his eyes once more. If he hadn’t just blown your back out, you’d murder him.

“You’re an ass.”

“They’re all social climbers, anyway.” Leona adds, sleepily. “People around here either hate me or want to use me for their own agendas.”

“In speaking of- should we go back to the party?” You ask, but Leona’s head is buried into your shoulder as he grunts in the negative, unwilling to move from his spot next to you.

And you don’t want to go, either.

The next morning at the breakfast table, Cheka is full of energy. It’s much too much for how early it is, and though Leona had insisted that the two of you stay in bed through breakfast, you forced him to go.

“We already slept through the rest of the party last night,” You said exasperatedly, practically dragging the lion out of his own bed. “We have to show up for breakfast.”

“You two must’ve been tired last night.” Amali says slyly, a knowing smile forming on her lips. “Didn’t even stick around for the main courses.”

“Let them have their fun, Amali.” Farena laughs, his voice booming. Like father, like son, you think as you watch Cheka play with the toys he had brought to the breakfast table, two stuffed warthogs he was smashing together with an exaggerated ‘bam!’- boisterous and far too loud. “We were young once.”

She hums, watching your embarrassed expression. “I’m glad you liked the dress last night.”

“Of course, thank you again!” You exclaim, glad for the change in subject, “It was beautiful- I’m surprised you had something in my size.”

Amali laughs, her gaze shifting to Leona. “You didn’t tell her?”

You cock your head, now also looking at Leona. “Tell me what?”

Leona would never tell Queen Amali Kingscholar to shut up; he was raised to respect women, especially his brother’s wife. Instead he grumbles a ‘don’t’ as Amali giggles at his expense.

“He asked me to order it for you.” She says, nudging Leona with her elbow. “He wanted something that’d match his suit, the possessive brat. I was surprised he got your measurements so accurate- someone must’ve been paying attention.”

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your own lips as you watch Leona shift uncomfortably, pretending to be more intrigued by stirring his porridge than the conversation at hand.

“Thank you.” You whisper to him, squeezing his hand. He grumbles something close to a ‘welcome’ underneath his breath, and you know in that moment that he’s been yours this entire time, too.

- - -

As the students of Night Raven College return from their winter vacation, flooding the hall of mirrors en masse with presents they received over the break and embarrassing stories of family hot on their tongues, Ruggie is the first one who notices. Even if his keen senses couldn’t immediately pick up on your intermingling scents, it doesn’t take an apex predator to notice the lovesick glances Leona exchanges with you as the both of you simultaneously enter the hall.

After all the pining, the fights, the tension so thick that Ruggie could sink his teeth into it, he could finally rest and stop playing Cupid’s referee to your will-they-won’t-they schtick. He smiles to himself and thinks of the betting pool posted in his dorm room, dollar signs humming through his veins as he anticipates the happy payday.

“Took you long enough.” The hyena snickers as Leona approaches, coming to greet him as you break off to meet with your friends.

“Yeah.” Leona says with an uncharacteristic softness, his eyes trailing after you as you greet Grim (making sure he hadn’t burnt down Ramshackle in your time away, no doubt), Ace, Deuce and the others -

“It did.”

——

10 points to anyone who can tell which Disney character I based Tiaga off of.

the lion header is by firefly-graphics!

#leona x reader smut #leona x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #leona kingscholar x reader smut

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