My Name’s Albi

you let satoru do as he pleases, threading your hands through his hair as his hand dips between your inner thighs. he hums into your neck when you scratch his scalp. “suguru,” you breathe, “how’d you two even get here? coach toji’s gonna kill you guys.”

“kiss,” satoru interrupts. you tilt your head towards him, eyes still on suguru as gojo presses his lips to yours.

suguru’s face twists in disgust, but he doesn’t comment. “satoru bribed him. paid him a couple hundreds to see you for five minutes.”

“right—” your voice strains when gojo gropes your ass once again. “and you followed him because?”

geto is already looking away. “he bribed me too.”

you snort, but it turns into a shiver as satoru sucks on your earlobe. he hums, pleased, when your fingers tighten in his hair.

“mmh… got an away match,” he kisses your jaw. “wanted to see my girl first.”

you’re not his girl, you know you’ll never be, but you still laugh when he squeezes your waist & presses hurried kisses to your cheek. you shove him away & his grin is cocky.

“gonna score for you,” he tugs you back, dipping his head to your ear. “and then you’ll treat me, yeah?”

you hum when his arms snake around your hips once again.

“only if you score the winning goal.”

2. POST MATCH SEXCAPADES !

satoru comes back too late.

you’re not sure exactly why—maybe overtime, maybe the team stopped somewhere to celebrate their win—but you don’t let the thought plague you. you’re more concerned about the fact that it’s nearly evening & you can hear a ball kicking against the gym walls. you’re still in your cheer uniform, tiny skirt & sheer top, standing at the metal doors as you watch gojo dribble on his own.

he stops dribbling to catch his breath, wiping sweat off his chin. and then he’s off to sit at the bleachers, letting water slide down his neck as he chugs from a bottle.

you take it as your cue.

you have your hands behind your back, padding all slow, steps soft as you make your way to him. gojo keeps his bottle pressed to his lips but he sees it. how your skirt clings to your thighs. how your breasts ripple under the thin material. he lets out a low hum as you sit yourself on his lap.

you loop your hands around his neck. “hi.”

his lip tugs. “hi,”

he squeezes your waist as you press yourself into him. your tits smush against his chest, nipples hardening, and his fingers are already tracing the hem of your skirt & gliding up your thigh.

“how was the match?” you mumble.

“was good,” he mutters, but his thumb has already found your panties underneath your skirt. he rubs a slow circle over the bud. “you miss me?”

“no,” you sass, but he presses his thumb into your clit & your hips stutter. satoru laughs.

“i know what you like now,” he hums, left hand gliding up your side as the other rubs slow circles over your panties. “know it only takes a little.”

his thumb finds your nipple through your thin shirt. he rubs a circle over the pebbled peak, slow, but then he raises a brow. “no bra?”

you can’t respond. your breath hitches as your head falls into his shoulder.

“so cute,” he murmurs softly. he lets you press against him, leaving your panties to grope your heavy tits in his palm. he squeezes and fondles, pressing light kisses to your cheek as you make pretty noises in his ear. your hips buck into him.

“needy,” he scoffs, but his hands come up to guide your hips as you rut against him. he’s already hard and your panties are soaked thin and you let the material cling between your folds as your clit rubs against him. he flips up your skirt to find you drenched & slobbering. he bites his cheek.

“fuck, baby,” he rasps, sliding your panties over your aching cunt. you’re still humping him. “why’s your pussy so fucking wet?”

you only whimper as he presses his thumb to your sticky clit, rubbing hard circles over the bud. his other hand gropes your hip, guiding you faster over him. your breathing shudders as his thumb circles your clit faster and harder, until your hips are stuttering & he’s cupping your pussy so you cum in his palm.

you whimper, tears pricking at your lashes as you come down from your high. satoru kisses your cheek slow. “mmh, good job, baby.”

he’s still rubbing his palm over your pussy, massaging your warmth all slow & lazy. your eyes drop to his bulge, his cock practically twitching in his shorts. you reach a hand to glide over it, palming him so his hips twitch. he inhales sharply, “fuck—”

“not in my uniform,” he steals your hand, kissing your jaw. “gonna be a nightmare to clean.”

you glare at him through your lashes. “it’s already dirty, idiot.”

he laughs at your pretty face glaring up at him. your cheeks are still flushed, lashes wet, and your lips are in a frown but satoru swears you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. he folds his hand over yours and dips his head to kiss you warm & slow. you gasp as his tongue pushes in, a soft moan leaving your lips as his tongue grazes yours.

“another time,” he murmurs against your lips. “no pouting, yeah?”

you pout anyways, and satoru kisses it off.

3. NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND !

satoru is driving too fast.

his jaw is tight, knuckles white against the steering as you clutch your seatbelt beside him. your heart hammers against your ribs but the engine soon slows, his foot easing down on the breaks as the car comes to a stop at a traffic light.

today’s match went bad, really bad, so bad to the point that afterwards you’d tried to console him and he’d simply walked past. you try not to let it get to you. you know how men are when it comes to losing in sports.

but satoru’s breathing settles beside you, so you try once more.

“you played good today.”

silence.

"i know you're upset," you continue, voice soft. "but it's just one game, and you'll get them next time.”

silence again. his jaw only ticks, face illuminated by the traffic light’s red glow. the seconds seem to stretch into minutes, and you fumble with your skirt.

“you did your best,” you turn to him. “that’s all that matters—“

“can you stop?”

you freeze.

satoru doesn’t look at you. his fingers tap against the steering as he lowers his foot to the gas pedal. he’s not speeding anymore, but the silence stretches & you can feel a lump clawing at your throat.

you bite your lip. and satoru’s mad, yes, but he’s got no right to talk to you like that or take his anger out on you. so you suck in a breath, try to correct him. “i was only trying to help. you don’t have to take it out on me—“

“do you ever get tired of talking?”

“what?”

but satoru continues. “you always have something to say, don’t you? you’re not my fucking girlfriend. and i don’t need your fucking comfort.”

you blink. the words don’t register at first, but soon your throat is closing up, and you’re nodding obediently before you can think any better of it. your skirt bunches in your hands as you try to keep your breathing steady. god forbid you give him a reason to snap at you once again.

“you’re right,” you try for sass but it fails. “and i won’t act like it again.”

but satoru sees you through the rearview mirror. your eyes are on your lap, like you’re still trying to process what just happened, your thumbs fiddling with the hem of your skirt. satoru only swallows, glances away. if he ignores you long enough, you’ll be just fine, right?

your breath hitches beside him and he crumbles immediately.

he’s already pulling over, unbuckling his belt to reach over the console. “no baby, i’m sorry,” he pleads, and maybe he shouldn’t because it only makes tears fall from your eyes. “shh baby don’t cry, i’m sorry, i’m so fucking sorry.”

he smushes your face into his chest, carding his fingers through your hair. you try to push him away but he takes your hand and presses it to his chest.

“didn’t mean to snap at you,” his breathing is ragged as he cups your face. “don’t cry baby, you know i hate it when you cry.”

you sniffle as he swipes a thumb over your wet lashes. “then what are we?”

satoru doesn’t answer. instead he presses his lips to yours, slow and warm, head tilting to deepen the kiss. “you’re my girl,” kiss. “my baby,” kiss. “my everything,” kiss.

he doesn’t say my girlfriend. but he doesn’t need to, right?

footballer!gojo doesn’t do relationships. and cheerleaders like you don’t make good girlfriends anyway. so you swallow the lump growing in your throat & let him part open your thighs.

SCORE, end

Xavier Ი𐑼₊⊹

Xavier had just finished up with a mission, eager to head back to his sweet girl and sleep the exhaustion away. He walked into your apartment, the door clicking shut softly behind him as his eyes immediately landed on your figure. You were curled up on the sofa, looking like you had fallen asleep right in the middle of a show. The TV was still on, its changing lights illuminating the soft contours of your face and body. 

He stepped closer, intending to wake you up gently, when he realized what you were wearing. Clad in nothing but his white hoodie, there you were adorably snuggled up, the fabric big enough on your frame to act as a makeshift blanket. His heart melted at the sight, but a sudden, hot wave of possession curled low in his stomach right alongside it. 

He hadn't realized until this exact moment just how much he loved seeing you in his clothes. 

Crouching down to your level, he slowly slid his arms under you and lifted you up, carrying you bridal style. The sudden shift in position caused the hoodie to ride up your thigh just a little, exposing the lace of your underwear. Xavier’s eyes visibly dilated at the sight. 

He gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing tightly as he tried his absolute best to ignore the throb in his pants. Forcing himself to focus, he carried you down the short hallway into the bedroom so you could continue your rest comfortably. You shifted slightly in his hold as he carefully lowered you onto the mattress, but you didn't wake up. Xavier climbed in right next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him until your back was pressed perfectly against his chest. 

But the thick ache in his trousers wasn't getting any easier to ignore, and the temptation right in front of him was too much. Giving in, he let his hand roam. The hem of the hoodie was completely bunched up at your waist now, leaving your lower half bare. His palm slipped beneath the fabric, tracing the warm curve of your waist before moving upward until it rested over your breasts, which were rising and falling in perfect time with your breathing. He let himself gently caress you, his fingers squeezing the soft mounds and playfully flicking your nipples, remaining careful and quiet so he wouldn't disrupt your sleep. 

Eventually, though, his hand traveled lower, his fingertips ghosting over the flimsy lace right where your sweet cunt was hidden. He shouldn't.

You were sleeping so blissfully, completely unaware of the fact that you looked oh so fuckable in in his clothes. But as his fingers grazed over the fabric, they brushed against a wet spot.

Fuuuck He was going to anyway.

He pulled the flimsy cloth to the side, exposing your bare, flush folds to the cool air as he lightly rubbed you. Using two fingers to spread you open, he felt a fresh wave of your syrup leak over his knuckles. You wouldn't mind, would you? 

He dipped his digits entirely inside you, the sudden, slick stretch causing you to let out a soft, subconscious whimper in your sleep.

“You take me so well even in your sleep, my star,” he whispered as he curled his fingers just right, intentionally hooking against that sensitive upper wall, earning a tight, involuntary squeeze from your walls. 

“Aw, looks like she's answering for you instead.” He fingered you languidly for a while, content with the quiet, sleepy moans slipping past your lips and how incredibly receptive your pussy was for him even in your dreams. 

Eventually, the friction and the sound of your slick walls coating his fingers had him hard enough to be painful. Juust the tip, he told himself, as he lined up to your entrance and prodded his way inside. But your poor hole, despite all the lubrication, had a hard time accommodating to all his girth. The way your body clenched hard around him– almost pushing his cock right back out– made Xavier throw every last shred of his rationality right out the window. 

So the man gripped your hip tightly and slammed his hips forward, shoving his entire length all the way in.

And this was where you finally woke up. “HAH– Xavier??!”

“I'm sorry– ngh– I just couldn't help myself,” he gasped out, his eyes dark and totally blown out as he immediately started an unforgiving pace, holding you in place by your hips as he fucked you deep.

“Wait– t-too big!” you cried out, your hands blindly reaching back to find purchase on his arms.

But he was far, far gone. He leaned over you, biting and sucking hungrily on your shoulder, leaving dark marks and bruises where his hands were pinning you to the mattress.

“You can't complain now, starlight,” he groaned against your skin, his thrusts hitting your sweet spot with a relentless  rhythm. “It's almost like you did this on purpose. Wearing that... your pretty little pussy was practically begging to be filled.”

Zayne ❄︎⛄︎

Stepping out of the shower, you wrapped yourself in a towel, water droplets still trickling down your hair and shoulders. You made your way into the closet, intending to get dressed, when something caught your eye. There it was, Zayne’s favorite black shirt, neatly folded in one of the laundry baskets. Something about it was.. tempting. Zayne wore it practically all the time; you even suspected he owned multiple identical pairs. You wondered why he was so attached to it, so you figured you’d steal it for the day. 

The moment you slipped it on, all your questions were answered. The fabric was incredibly comfortable.  When zayne wore it, it looked like an exact fit, perhaps even tight around his broad shoulders. On you, however, unbuttoning just the top two buttons caused the collar to droop completely past your frame, revealing an expanse of skin and one bare shoulder, while the hem practically reached down to your knees. 

Content with how it smelled like him, you padded over to the kitchen to fix a snack for the two of you. You assumed he was still working in his study and planned to pull him away for a break, showing off your new outfit while you were at it. But it seemed he beat you to the punch. 

Zayne had just wandered into the living room, seeking a much-needed break from his desk. It just so happened that when he walked into the kitchen, he found you in a rather… interesting state.

You were tiptoeing to reach something on the top shelf, causing the hem of his shirt to ride up and expose the curve of your ass. A faint blush dusted the tips of Zayne's ears at the sight. Seeing you drowning in his shirt made him feel things he was unprepared for. Like he wanted to protect you from the world, yet devour you all the same. The rush of it all went straight down, a very obvious bulge now straining his pants. 

He closed the distance silently. He planted one hand firmly on your hip while his other hand came down to give your rear a firm, sudden squeeze. You squeaked at the contact.

“I see a little thief is on the loose” 

You were propped up securely on Zayne’s lap, your legs straddling his hips as you gripped his shoulders to keep your balance. The black shirt, now unbuttoned almost entirely down to your navel, bunched around your elbows, leaving your chest completely bare and your nipples peaking against the cool air of the room. 

His large hands anchored your hips, effortlessly lifting your weight up before pulling you right back down onto his fat cock. 

“zaynie..,” you whimpered, your walls clamping tight around the massive stretch of him, while the man in front of you looked utterly concentrated, his gaze fixed on the way you took him in. 

It seemed to just now click in his head that you were, in fact, much smaller than he is. Suddenly, all those initial times of intimacy, where you struggled and sobbed over his dick, made much more sense. Back then, he had just chalked it up to your inexperience, and also obviously that he wasn’t exactly a petite man. Yet for some odd reason, he hadn't realized the true extent of it. Until now, that is. 

He drew your hips up again, just to snap them right back down. “Such a good girl for me, working so hard to take my dick.”

He leaned over to grip your face, his other hand curling at the base of your skull. “You deserve a reward, don't you?” Your eyes had completely glazed over, and you nodded your head frantically. “Stick your tongue out, darling,” he prompted, his thumb rubbing your bottom lip. You obeyed without missing a beat.

And he spat right in your mouth. “Swallow.”

The contact made you tip over the edge instantly, his taste making your pussy spasm uncontrollably, yet you tried to focus and do as he said. You swallowed dutifully with an audible gulp, showing him the evidence by sticking your tongue out once more.

Zayne smiled, thoroughly satisfied by your obedience, and he caught you in a wet kiss, sucking on your exposed tongue, his own soon joining in.

He loved the way you molded to him and his cock.

Rafayel ｡˚○ ⚓︎

It was three days to Ebb Day, and this came with the severe consequence of you being utterly tied to your lover, rafayel. 

He had wanted to hide away at first, just like he did every single year, terrified that he would be too rough, too intense, and simply too much for you to handle. But after a whole shitload of convincing and a few heated preliminary rounds in the initial days leading up to it, Rafayel had finally agreed to let you stay with him through this. 

You had just finished yet another grueling session with him in the shower. Knowing he wanted to enjoy the coolness of the water for a while longer, you stepped out early, craving some much-needed rest and a brief moment of alone time before your needy boyfriend came back begging to fill you up yet again. 

After getting dressed, a violent shiver ran through your body. The flimsy material of your t-shirt and shorts did absolutely nothing to spare you from the freezing temperatures Rafayel had set his home to, a desperate counter-measure for how much he was constantly burning up. In hindsight, you really should have brought warmer clothes. 

Not thinking twice, you reached over and stole Rafayel's cardigan, which was draped haphazardly over a nearby chair. The material was thick enough and big enough on your frame for you to completely wrap yourself up in it, a little consolation against the biting chill. Wrapped tightly in his scent, you relaxed onto his sofa, playing some random TV show as you zoned out. 

After an hour or so, Rafayel finally walked out of the bathroom with nothing but a low-hanging towel draped around his lean waist, immediately seeking out your whereabouts. When he did eventually find you, lazing over in the living room, all his instincts flared up into overdrive the second he saw what you were wearing. 

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. All fucking mine.

He closed the distance instantly. Noticing his sudden presence, you looked up and chirped, “oh hey! How was your showe—” He didn't even let you finish your sentence. Rafayel pinned you flat against the cushions of the sofa as he hovered on top of you.

“I must say, very brave of you to wear that in my current condition, Miss bodyguard.”

Rafayel was rutting into you at an intense pace, already at it for hours since he stepped out of the shower, his stamina seeming to be completely bottomless. He had you pinned helplessly beneath him in an obscene mating press, your lower half spread out completely as he relentlessly used your already spent, aching hole. 

“You humans... so fragile, so small,” he hissed out almost wondrously, his voice a breathless purr as he watched the friction of his movements. “Yet you can still keep up with me, cutie.” 

You weren't even sure what he was talking about, because in your own head, you could barely keep up at all. All you could do was lay limp and twitching while his hands moved you into whatever positions he wanted you to be in. 

But this time, rafayel had other plans with you, mind filling with all sorts of filthy thoughts, especially those involving how your little body would bulge out with all the eggs he was going to put inside you. 

Without a single word of warning, he pinned your thighs deeper into your own chest, forcing your knees up on either side of your face before he suddenly stilled. Pulled out of your dazed state by the abrupt pause, you looked up at him confusedly, opening your mouth to speak before the words dissolved into a half scream, half moan.

“AHH– raf why is it– ack!” you were unable to move under his tight hold, “why is it growing??!!!”

“Shh– it's okay, cutie. c’mon... I know you can take it,” he cooed softly. He reached up, stroking your flushed cheek with a gentleness that felt entirely contrasting to how harshly his thick dick was stretching you out, practically breaking you.

Right as you thought you couldn't take any more, he stretched out fully, his tip slipping into place against your sensitive cervix as a singular egg intruded its way deep inside you. The round, distinct outline became instantly visible through your skin, your lower belly visibly bulging outward to accommodate everything being stuffed into your womb. 

“Raf- hah-” your nails dug harshly into his shoulders, not realising you were drawing blood. Yet the dazed lemurian was too lost in his own greed, warm hand sliding down to caress over where the egg perfectly slotted inside you.

His eyes darted back to your face, pupils blown out to the point where he looked insane.

“Can I do that again? Pretty please?”

Caleb ૮･ﻌ･ა ⌯⌲

You just reached back home after dropping a book off at your friend’s house, walking through the front door and slipping off your shoes. Passing by the living room, you saw Josephine still watching TV, exactly as you’d left her. You quickly ran up the stairs, eager to finally snuggle back into your blankets. 

But walking into your room, you were instead met with Caleb sitting on the edge of your bed. His hands were folded, a deep scowl etched onto his face— yet it flickered into something different for a fraction of a second when he looked up at you. . 

Earlier that day, he had just gotten done after hours of brutal studying, so naturally he went looking for you. But when he asked Josephine, he was met with the fact that you had gone over to a friend’s house to drop something off. Specifically, the one guy Caleb already had a faint idea was interested in you.

Caleb was seething about it too, planning all sorts of endings for the guy, and more importantly, all the ways he was gonna thoroughly discipline you before you ever thought about going to another man’s house again. 

Yet when you walked in, seeing what you were wearing, his anger seemed to melt off just a little. You were wearing your usual jean shorts and a t-shirt, but those were unimportant. What really caught his eye was the fact that you were wearing his D.A.A. jacket. 

“Oh caleb! Wat’cha doin’ here”, you asked, flashing him a confused smile. 

Caleb tilted his head, his frustrated expression melting into a slow, cocky smirk. Perhaps it wasn't as bad as he thought. Sure, you had stolen his clothes before, and Caleb absolutely loved it when you did– doting on how cute and small you looked in them, sometimes even not-so-subtly encouraging you to wear them despite all your own clothes being clean and ready in your closet. 

Oh but this time, it was something about owning you, he thought. Something about his claim on you being visible in front of everyone, especially the men who thought they actually stood a chance with you. 

He definitely wasn't mad anymore, but the painful wedge in his pants wasn't gonna let him drop what he had planned. 

Your back was pressed hard against his chest, your thighs spread completely apart to the cold air of the room, entirely naked except for his jacket slipping off your shoulders. 

Your vision was blurring, heavy tears forming from his deft fingers working at your sex. His two middle fingers were pumping relentlessly in and out of you, drawing out slick, soaking sounds and ragged whimpers from your mouth, which were muffled by his other hand tightly clamped over your lips. 

“Shh, don't be loud now, pipsqueak. Don’t want grammy to hear us, do we?” He murmured, accompanying the words by curling his middle finger against that one spongy spot, pressing and rubbing it until you drooled helplessly against his palm and curled your toes hard against the sheets. 

You could practically hear the smirk framing his face right now, mocking you as he intentionally did everything that was going against you being able to be quiet. 

Your hand, which had been weakly gripping his wrist over your face, tapped against his skin, prompting him to take it off so you could finally speak.

“aah– Caleb, I can't anymore! I want your–”

“My cock?” He chuckled softly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as his fingers shifted inside you to hit that exact spot again. “Nah. You don't just get to run off to another man's house and come back expecting a reward. You’ll get it when I say you’ll get it.” 

You squirmed desperately against his tight grip. “It's not– it's not like that.” You could barely keep your thoughts straight; Caleb sounded entirely too casual for a man who was currently knuckles deep inside you. 

“Plus, I doubt you can handle more. Look at you, struggling already.” He used his free hand to tilt your head down, forcing you to look at the filthy scene of your own hole stretching around just two of his thick fingers, your slick release dripping down onto the mattress. 

You clamped down hard on his hand at the sight, yet you were completely insatiable, eager to feel him inside you instead.

“But noo– ” Caleb immediately pulled his fingers out of your cunt, a loud, wet squelch following the action before he stuffed them straight into your mouth instead, forcing you to taste yourself.

“Tch. You talk too much,” he purred, his thumb brushing against your cheek as you instinctively sucked on his wet digits. “Shut up and behave, and I might consider indulging you.”

It was so subtle that only Rollo himself could recognize the signs- the glances, the grumbles, the glares at anyone (Rollo included) who dared to get too close

And then he comes into the lounge to see his tsum cuddling on your lap, when Rollo himself hasn't so much as worked up the nerve to hold your hand...

He's in his room shaking on his hands and knees in agony all night

When you ask if he's okay the next morning he tells you he just had some trouble with the fireplace

You let him lean on you for support and he is sated (for now)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Fellow Honest

...Tried (and failed) to teach his tsum-self to do little tricks

It was too stubby to jump through a hoop, too round to perform aerial acrobatics, and when he tried getting it in costume (hand-sewn by Fellow himself), the thing took his cane and started beating him with it

Fellow had long given up on his tsum self, and so by the time Rollo was storming out of the lounge, Fellow was there to cackle about the kid being jealous of a jelly bean

...Then he caught you kissing and petting his tsum, and it wasn't so funny anymore

Having given up on his dreams of touring the world with the living hacky sack, he set out to catch it and mail it to somewhere you'd never see it again

His first attempt (hanging anvil) failed (there's a totally unrelated giant hole in the floor of the gardening shed now by the way (don't tell Rollo))

His second attempt (exploding piano keys) also failed (bomb didn't go off for the tsum, Fellow tried it, no more piano/eyebrows/nose hair)

His third attempt is drying on the side of the house as we speak, a painting of a road on the brick, his most genius scheme yet! This one will work for sure!

Concussion.

But at least he got you to dedicate your afternoon to bandaging his bruises and cradling his aching head in your lap (while he smirks wickedly at his tsum across the room)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Skully J. Graves

...Is on you like glue

His tsum? In your coat pocket. Small and quiet as a baby bat, snoozing in there all day

Himself? Attached to your side, monologuing about the great beauty of the season

Skully isn't the vindictive, angry boy you met in a book hundreds of years ago- he's an aged gentleman

That is, he's not one to get jealous over himself. There's more than enough Prefect to share, after all, as long as he...

As long as... he...

...Did that little scoundrel just kiss your hand?

His cheeks burn

His tsum is trying to... woo you!

And what's worse is, it's working! You're laughing in that lovely way! The sound only his stories of adventure and witty remarks on current Halloween trends can draw out of you!

...But Skully is a gentleman, after all, and he doesn't settle spats with fist fights

He just gives his teeny self a reminder that he could use a miniature pumpkin for the decor this year, and it is just the right size...

...And then back to linking arms and escorting you around the old dorm, talking your ear off

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Swing

...Was about to eat his tsum before you intervened

He insisted he was only kidding (was he?) as you carried the poor thing away

After the tsum had been caught chasing the others with matchsticks and shards of glass one too many times, you decided to put it in a time-out, keeping it on your shoulder for the day

It cozied up real fast, getting comfortable in the crook of your neck while you went through your routine

After a while, Swing started following, shuffling down the hall after you, lingering in doorways and glaring at the bean creature on your shoulder

It glares back, and you let them have their little stare off until Swing grabs it off your shoulder and announces he's ACTUALLY going to eat it this time

Ensuing ten minutes of chasing him through the dorm while no one else tries to intervene (Rollo is tired, Fellow hates that guy, Skully is busy arranging his new miniature pumpkin on the porch)

Eventually you catch him (well, he lets you catch him) and get him to promise not to eat any tsums, including his own

In exchange, he gets to hang off your shoulder all day and watch everything you do

There will be two explanations between all of the characters. OG and RC (Reincarnated)

You

OG: A spoiled daughter of a duke who hated her arranged marriage and neglected the noble duties to splurge in luxury.

RC: Weird by nobles standards, but in the eyes of the royal family, you are a *saint* that saved your family from ruin just by your intuition alone. Adoring, caring and weirdly obsessed with gardening… (Lore related)

Grim

OG: A dying magic cat that was saved by Yuu one night and has become extremely loyal to the main character.

RC: Spoiled, fat, tuna stealing magic cat. You saved him quite early on in his life. He sees you as his henchman and acts like you are above him… and he's still very much the one company that is the same throughout the story

Ace

OG: A thief in ruining the law of the new government of the Rosehearts family. Became one of Yuu's loyal companions early on in the story

RC: Your loyal advisor. After meeting you, his life change for the better in a way and he studied to work the royal family.

Deuce

OG: Also a fugitive that's running from the law for reasons unknown for him cause he technically didn't do anything wrong. Became one of Yuu's loyal companions early on in the story

RC: Your loyal knight who was once a commoner that you meet alongside Ace.

Cater

OG: Son of the Barons that sided with the Rosehearts factions by force. Doesn't like his position at all so he sided with Yuu to stop the war from happening.

RC: Unsure, will come back to this information with the rest of the role figured out later

Trey

OG: Once royal family cook, turned to casualties if Yuu did not come to the Heartslabyul nation in time.

RC: Still the royal family cook, but became your at first unwilling ally in your weird obsession with gardening.

Riddle

OG: The fiancé that killed you, though he was still a pawn to the Rosehearts family name. Was destined for either death by his people or mercy from Yuu.

RC: Your childhood friend who was originally about to be arranged to be married to you, but instead freed from his mother’s influence and is working hard to be a great ally to his kingdom… and you. Not engaged, but he's in love with you and will get his family honor back just to have your hand.

Jack

OG: Just a soldier that Yuu can interact with.

RC: A knowledgeable Savanaclaw knight who you met during your visit to meet the Second Lord Kingscholar

Ruggie

OG: One of the people from the slums. He's one of the casualties of the war if Yuu didn't come to help his small community.

RC: Leona's dirty worker advisors after you had informed valuable intel to Leona when you were young.

Leona

OG: The second prince Kingscholar who Yuu has to convince or stop his attempt to fruitlessly rise to power. He is destined to either fall by Yuu's hand or His people's hands. The latter is much more merciless option for him in his original story

RC: The first person to know that you were Reincarnated from another world after you have sent a mysterious letter helping him out to be more respected by his people. With your cryptical message, he managed to find the slums that the nobles that surrounded his brother tried to cover up and not notice.

Floyd

OG: Azul's left hand man. He and Jade met Azul at a later age, and is a part of Azul's schemes because it entertains him. Can or Will betray Azul if Yuu offers a better incentive to him

RC: Due to Azul's much needed confidence he met Azul at much of a younger age and actually befriended him before he worked for Azul. Which does affect their work relationship as a whole. Calls you a shrimp when he first met you hunching on your garden.

Jade

OG: Azul's right hand man. He and Floyd met Azul at a later age, and is a part of Azul's schemes because it entertains him. Can or Will betray Azul if Yuu offers a better incentive to him.

RC: Like his brother, Azul seeks him at a younger age which creates a better bond for the two to Azul before working with him. Though, he can't help wondering who this “pearl” he kept talking about when he first met the young Azul… Of course, he knew better now. After meeting you, you became one of his gardening buddies due to your obsession with gardening.

Azul

OG: A selfish Merchant who sabotages his kingdom to gain control from the back seats due to mistreatments of his pride and family from the same kingdom.

RC: A son of a respectable Merchant who travels to gain a prestigious reputation after his first meeting from you. Your invitation to the Ashengrotto family to your family house was the key to making his family name a much more respectable one than just a merchant. He still cunning

playfighting with bestfriend!roommate!satoru clearly wasn't a good idea. you just know that you have absolutely no chance against those big, bulging biceps, rock hard pecs and abs and strong thighs of his. still, you like to push his buttons a little, blatantly cheating when you're competing against each other in whatever videogame he chooses and then saying that you'd never do something like that. that always ends up with a smirk on satoru's face, and you being pinned down underneath him and tickled almost to death in a matter of seconds.

usually his boyfriend, bestfriend!roommate!suguru would come to your rescue, just a simple "satoru~" in that sultry, sweet, but also warning tone of his could stop satoru just as fast as he started and make him apologize to you, with a kiss on the cheek and a little chuckle too.

this time tho, suguru is not here to rescue you. he's in the shower right now, while his stupidly hot boyfriend is quite literally torturing you. no amount of "satoru please, I'm sorry!" in between laughs, kicking or punching could move him from his solid position on top of you, quite literally straddling you while tickling not just your waist, but every part of you he can possibly reach.

satoru is grinning so so much, really doing his best not to look at how your shirt is slowly going higher and higher up your body revealing that you're not currently wearing a bra, and how perfect you look like this, all disheveled and breathless underneath him.

seeing him distracted for a second, you finally find the opening you've been waiting for, and switch positions with him with all the force you can muster. satoru is surprised to say the least, blinking repeatedly while staring up at you, all smiley and giggly. when he finally realizes that you're sitting exactly on top of his slowly hardening cock, he tries to play it off with a "getting stronger, aren't you sweetheart?" smirking non-chalantly, but the blush creeping up his neck is very much visible. he gulps loudly when you adjust yourself to sit better on top of him, he's even starting to think that you're doing this on purpose as your little revenge, but your sweet smile and innocent eyes prove him wrong. he should be feeling awful about how much he currently wants to just ruin you, tear off the poor excuse of a pajama you're wearing and make suguru think you're watching a horror movie from making you scream so loud.

key words: he should be feeling awful, but he doesn't. why? because as he sees you gasp at the realization that his cock is rock hard underneath you, he realizes that you want this just as much as he does.

that's why you glance quickly towards the bathroom door, making sure that the water is still running, before slooowly grinding on satoru, your shorts and his pants the only things in between your increasingly wet pussy and his concerningly long cock. biting your lip at the pressure, friction and pleasure running through your body, you don't even need to wait for a reaction or some sort of consent from him, as satoru's hands are quick to find your ass and make you grind on him again. his pupils are blown wide, his breath accelerated, he's never looked better.

"toru- w-what about sugu?" you manage to stutter as you grind on him just a bit faster, suddenly too aware of your own shorts now sticking uncomfortably to your most sensitive part because of how wet you are, and growing more and more frustrated at the amount clothing separating you from him. satoru lets a low moan slip past his rosy lips followed by a chuckle, and doesn't teally hesitate to say "it's not cheating if it doesn't go in baby, it's alright~ sugu will- fuck- will definitely understand~".

that's how you end up desperately dry humping him on the couch, tv long forgotten and still open on the game you were playing earlier.

both you and satoru try your best to keep your clothes on, to not cross the line... failing miserably. your shorts and his pants end up on the floor, and as soon as you start grinding again on his swollen, naked, hard cock you're a mess. with chills running all over your body and teary eyes, you just can't help but moan and claw at his chest every time his now pinky-red tip comes into contant with your sensitive clit.

satoru is totally convinced that he's in heaven, gripping your ass so tightly that you're sure he's gonna leave marks, and even giving it a slap because he just can't control himself. everytime his dick feels like is about to slip inside your hole he's rolling his eyes, numerous curses and praises slipping past his lips. "that's it- you're doing so- fuck- so good sweetheart. use me- rub that sweet pussy on me to make yourself feel good, just like that~" he groans, one of his hands now slipping under your shirt to grope at your tits and play with one of your nipples.

chasing your orgasm desperately, you pick up your pace even more, moaning loudly with some drool coming out the side of your mouth. "toru- feels so good- gonna cum!~" you whine almost pathetically, making him coo audibly. what makes you finally lose it is the feeling of his hand on your neck, pulling you down towards his face and kissing you oh so lewdly, all tongue, teeth and saliva. you respond to the kiss at the best of your abilities as you feel your eyes cross, your legs tremble and the most life-changing orgasm hit you like a truck. it doesn't take too long for satoru to reach his orgasm too, with the mess you're making on him, you soft lips on his and the sounds you're making more than enough to send him over the edge, moaning into the kiss and making a mess on his own abs.

slowing down the pace of your hips to come down from your high and panting loudly, both you and satoru are still buzzing. you keep your eyes closed as you softly rub your nose on his and peck his lips, gaining a soft smile from him as he kisses you back while keeping you as close to him as he physically can.

you both don't even realize that the shower stopped running long ago, and that suguru has been watching from almost the very beginning! <3 he was almost tempted to interrupt and join you two, but seeing his lover and his best friend, who he's had the biggest freaking crush on for the longest time, put on a show like that was simply divine. and even though his cock is so fucking hard and leaking even, he just silently goes to the kitchen to get you both some water, taking care of his beloveds being his top priority. but he just knows for sure that later he's gonna need another shower, and not alone this time <3

“just look at us. we make too much sense together!” humming lightly as if he wasn’t drilling his cock into you: your walls swallowing his dick with each thrust. veins visible beneath his pale skin, fingertips digging softly into the plush flesh of your hips, the fabric of your pink satin gown pooling into the small of your back, bed creaking underneath the sheer force of his thrust.

he’s got you face down in the sheets, a soft silk pillow braced beneath your hips for support, the fabric cool against your warm skin — a sweet, sweet contrast to how his length stretched you out as his pelvis slammed into you, sending harsh ripples through your skin as he stuffed you full of himself to the hilt.

“mmmph— toru! shut uup!” you whined as his flared tip dug into the pulpy spot hidden away in your walls, leaving your pussy fluttering around his cock as he coated your skin in soft kisses and suckles.

one thing you learned about satoru was that once he got into his head, there was no easy way of pulling him out.

if anything, he was fully locked in. as if the only thing mattered was fucking you senseless, as evidence the two of you belonged together. which, quite frankly, you needed no convincing of. not when he spoiled you so much.

“you don’t think that’s true, right baby?” he hums, a genuine pout on his face, leaning over you, his bare chest flush against your back before tugging your earlobe gently between his teeth, making you suck in a sharp breath.

your hands tightened against the sheets as his tip relentlessly squishes against your sweet spot without even meaning to.

you only let out a muffled cry at his question, soft “oou’s” and “ahh’s” escaping your throat: each thrust getting wetter and messier by the second. the veins of his cock scraping against each nook and cranny of your velvety walls as you practically milked him dry, clamping down on him as his hips snapped forward into you, wetness pooling down between your thighs & drool spilling out into the sheets as your eyes glazed over prettily.

pretty.

you were so fucking pretty.

gojo always loved when you got like this. a pretty drooling mess, all because of his dick. all because of him.

“pretty,” he choked out, “pretty, pretty girl, so mgnh— fuckin’ pretty”, he gushed mindlessly, drunk off your puffy cunt, coating his cock in white sticky streaks, a creamy ring of white spreading over his shaft as your ass bounced off of him over n’ over again.

his hand slivered down over your arm before wrapping around your hand, fingers lacing through yours as he pressed a firm bite to your shoulder, “c’mon… answer me.” voice muffled against your heated skin, but unmistakably impatient.

“toru !” you mindlessly babbled, half scolding, half pleading as you pathetically pushed yourself back on his dick trying to chase more of him, burying your face in the sheets entirely as if to escape him, “wanna— please!”

“wanna what? go ahead, baby. say what you’re thinkin’.” he practically growls against your ear, his grip on your hips not ceasing their brutal pace.

“cum— wanna cum, please”, you gasped out, words slurred together, voice syrupy, holding onto any last semblance coherence.

“mm? you’re close?” he cooed against your ear, “use your words pretty girl—say what i wanna hear.” his sweaty, damp forehead was buried in the crook of your neck, his full weight squishing you beneath him as he let out a soft whimper against your ear, making you clamp down on him.

“you’re perfect f’me!” you cry out as he removes his hand from the flesh of your hips to tug lightly at your roots, pulling your face from the sheets, lips plush and slick, brows knitted together so perfectly, eyes half-lidded, seconds away from shutting in utter bliss.

with your head tilted, he presses a sloppy kiss to your exposed neck before his teeth met your flesh, followed by his tongue swirling over the sensitive spot. “hah—so fucking perfect!!”

he lets out a low laugh, “good girl… thaaaat’s what i like to hear.” he drawled, his voice breaking off into a heavy groan as his cock twitched inside you, stirring up your guts.

the only thing slipping past your lips now being a messy blend of hiccups and cloying moans, all his sweet words of praise going in one ear and out the other, drowned out by the obscene clap of skin on skin.

his hand tightens around your own, the other sliding up to cup your jaw, leaving just enough pressure to make you whine, bringing your gaze back to his.

his pupils are blown wide, almost unreadable, that crazed edge that made your tummy twist up.

“go on then, cum on your soulmate’s cock.”

and as if under his spell, you do: cunt milking him and your juices spill all over his shaft, coating his sack as your body jolted everso slightly, thighs trembling violently under his touch, face falling back into the cushions as he begrudgingly let go of your face.

before your spasming cunt could milk him dry, satoru groans, squeezing his eyes shut before abruptly pulling out of you, chest heaving as he lets out a shaky laugh under his breath, flared tip red and angry, thin rivulets of precum spilling onto the curve of your ass, cock twitching violently as he held back his own orgasm.

“you’re gonna be the death of me...” he pants from above you, sweat slicked forehead resting heavily against your back.

after a minute of lying under him limp and boneless, your fingers flexed weakly as you tried to steady yourself, trembles soon dying down into stillness, you hum, “satoru…”, voice sweet yet wrecked.

he pips up with a small “mm?”, leaning over your shoulder, clearly amused. taking in how your pretty face was all undone. tear stained, warm and glossy with sweat, lashes clumped together as you only batted your wide, glassy eyes at him, soft confusion sitting behind your cloudy gaze.

“why didn’t you . . . y’know? . . . finish inside?”

he only blinks down at your before letting out a soft laugh: “oh? you want me to cum in you that badly?” he taunts, only earning a frown you.

“fine. i’ll tell you.” he hums as he leans back up to his full stature whilst resting on folded knees. “i’m not done with you yet pretty girl”, smiling as he flips you over, dragging you back to him, hiking your legs up over his shoulders.

you only blink up at him, lips parted, a soft gasp slipping out at the sudden change in position.

“y’know…” he frowns, leaning over you, white strands tickling your forehead. “people are getting a little loud about us.” his thumbs trace lazy circles into your side. “we should probably check if they’re right.”

“as in . . ?”

“well, you could sit on my face for starters!”

yeah.

he was definitely more than you could handle.

wrote this at 3 am 👌🏽

Riddle Rosehearts

riddle doesn't notice it imediately. at first, flipping through the photo album just feels nostalgic— dorm events, tea parties, group outings, unbirthday parties, small moments with friends captured here and there. but the longer he looks, the more something starts bothering him. you're barely in any of them. sometimes there is the edge of your sleeve disappearing out of frame or a blurry glimpse of you in the background, but actual photos of you are strangely rare. when he finally points it out, you awkwardly admit that you don't really like having your picture taken. riddle pauses at that. not because he judges you for it, but because he suddenly realizes how easily you have been slipping yourself out of memories while still preserving everyone else’s. after that, he becomes much gentler about photos. he never forces them, never suddenly shoves a camera toward you, but every now and then he quietly asks if one together would be alright. and if you say yes, he treasures those pictures more carefully than any others.

Leona Kingscholar

leona notices almost immediately because unlike most people, he's weirdly observant about things involving you. he flips through the album lazily at first before narrowing his eyes slightly. "why aren't you in any of these?" he asks bluntly, glancing over at you while continuing to turn pages. when you shrug it off and admit you avoid cameras, he clicks his tongue softly, clearly unimpressed with that answer. not because he thinks you should like photos, but because he dislikes the thought of you erasing yourself from shared memories. after that, he gets sneakier about it. instead of formal pictures, he ends up taking candid ones when you're relaxed and not paying attention— half-asleep beside him, laughing at something stupid grim did, sunlight catching your expression when you think nobody's looking. he never makes a big deal out of showing you either. he just keeps them quietly, like proof that you were there with him.

Azul Ashengrotto

azul notices the pattern gradually, and once he does, it genuinely unsettles him a little. because the album is filled with evidence that you were always present— the angle of certain shots clearly taken by you, everyone around you smiling toward the camera, memories carefully preserved— and yet you yourself are nearly absent from all of it. when he asks why, expecting maybe simple modesty, your discomfort with photos catches him off guard. azul understands self-consciousness more than most people realize, so his reaction isn't frustration but immediate care. afterward, he becomes very careful about how he approaches the subject. he never pressures you into group photos, but he starts valuing the rare pictures you're in immensely. and sometimes, when you'e focused on something else and look genuinely happy, he quietly thinks it's a shame you can't see yourself the way other people do.

Jamil Viper

jamil notices because he notices everything. halfway through looking at the album, he realizes there are dozens of photos involving moments you were clearly part of, but almost none where you are actually visible. when he asks about it, your explanation makes him go quiet for a moment. he understands avoiding attention. understands wanting to stay behind the scenes rather than become the focus of something. so unlike others, he doesn't immediately try to "fix" the issue. instead, he adapts around it naturally. if photos happen, he positions himself beside you without making it obvious, keeping things casual and low-pressure. he also starts appreciating the little accidental photos of you more than the staged ones— blurry smiles, distracted expressions, moments where you forgot to hide from the camera entirely. those become the pictures he keeps returning to the most.

Kalim Al-asim

kalim notices immediately because he's the kind of person who always wants everyone included. halfway through the album, he suddenly gasps and blurts out, "wait, where are you?!!" when you awkwardly explain that you avoid photos, his expression falls instantly. not in disappointment toward you, but genuine sadness that you have been standing outside these memories the whole time. kalim never wants you to feel pressured, though, so instead of pushing, he becomes incredibly encouraging about it in the softest way possible. if you agree to even one picture, he lights up like you handed him treasure. and afterward, he always makes sure to show you the photos first, pointing out how nice you look or how happy everyone seemed together. over time, his excitement makes the whole thing feel less intimidating and more warm, like maybe being seen isn't always something to fear after all.

Vil Schoenheit

vil notices almost instantly, and honestly? it bothers him. not because he thinks everyone needs to love being photographed, but because he can immediately tell this isn't simple preference. there's hesitation behind it. avoidance. he studies the album with a slight frown before finally asking why you are constantly the one taking the pictures instead of being in them. when you awkwardly explain, his expression softens in a way that's surprisingly subtle. vil understands appearance-related insecurity far too well to dismiss your feelings carelessly. however, he also refuses to let you completely erase yourself from memories. he becomes patient but persistent after that, encouraging photos in ways that feel natural instead of forced. "you deserve to exist in your own memories too, sweet potato." he tells you once quietly, almost absentmindedly, while fixing your hair before a picture. and somehow, hearing it from him makes the idea feel a little less frightening.

Idia Shroud

idia does not even notice at first because honestly, he avoids photos too half the time. but once he does notice, he suddenly becomes hyperaware of it. "wait... hold on. why are you like... never actually in the pictures?" he asks while scrolling through an album, sounding genuinely confused. when you admit you dislike being photographed, idia immediately stops pressing because he gets it. like, deeply gets it. he knows what it feels like to hate seeing yourself captured somewhere permanent. but at the same time, something about your absence from all these memories makes his chest ache unexpectedly. because you were there for all of it. you mattered in all of it. after that, he starts favoring pictures where both of you are only partially visible or where the focus is on the moment itself instead of directly on either of you. oddly enough, those become some of his favorite photos ever.

Malleus Draconia

malleus notices easily because he looks for you instinctively in every picture. and when he repeatedly fails to find you, confusion slowly gives way to concern. he asks about it directly, genuinely puzzled by why someone so important would avoid being preserved in memories. when you explain your discomfort, he listens carefully without judgment. however, the idea saddens him more than he initially expects. humans already exist so briefly compared to fae lifespans, and now you are hiding yourself from even the small records of your own life. after that realization, malleus becomes deeply appreciative of every photo you do allow yourself to appear in. he treats them almost reverently. and occasionally, very quietly, he starts asking if he may keep certain candid photos of you specifically because he wishes to remember these moments exactly as they are now.

floyd leech

floyd notices in the most floyd way possible— suddenly and dramatically. one second he's flipping through pictures lazily, and the next he is loudly complaining about how "shrimpy's missing from, like, ALL of these!" once you explain that you avoid cameras, he stares at you for a second before pouting immediately. "boooring~ i wanna keep pictures of shrimpy too!" but unlike people who would push too hard, floyd adapts surprisingly quickly. instead of formal photos, he starts taking chaotic candid ones whenever you least expect it. blurry pictures of you laughing, hiding your face, chasing grim around, getting annoyed at him specifically. half of them are horribly timed, but somehow that makes them feel more genuine. and every single time you complain about him taking another picture, he just grins and says, "yeah yeah, but now i've got proof you hang out with me~"

Jade Leech

A pixie cut.

You had talked about one, but he never expected you to actually go through with it. It looked…fucking stunning.

“Dovie?” he called out.

You lifted your head as his voice broke the silence. That smile, those eyes, the haircut—you looked like you were practically begging to be filled with his kids.

“Love! Welcome home, I've missed you!” You jumped off the couch and skipped over to him.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, lips pressed to his cheek, his beard tickling your soft brown skin. He just stood there, frozen, staring at you with admiration.

“John, what's wrong?” you asked, backing up and tilting your head up at the mesmerized man.

“When’d you get that, the haircut?” he asked, barely able to speak. Damn, you looked gorgeous, just perfect.

“Like a few days ago, why?”

“I mean,” he huffed, running his hand over his face, “you look fuckin’ good, bird. Gorgeous, stunning, magnificent—god fucking damn, ya’ tryin’ to kill me, lassie?” you giggled, cheeks warming from his compliments.

“Why, thank you.” That damn smile, your voice—normally he could keep himself in check, but with how hard he was–that was impossible.

You were talking excitedly about the experience, while his foot tapped, hand hanging over his mouth, eyebrows furrowed, cheeks heated, feeling more confined in his pants with every minute—he couldn't take it, he really tried.

He roughly clasped your face in his hands, pressing his lips to yours in a heated, passionate kiss. You moaned into his mouth as his hands trailed down your back, grabbing your ass with his beefy hands.

His tongue pushed into your mouth, and his hard-on pressed against your thigh.

“I'm gonna fill you up tonight, love,” he mumbled against your lips, dragging you back to the couch.

“I think not!” you pulled back, raising an eyebrow.

“Love-”

“No John, I just got this done and it wasn't cheap! Gimme another week AT LEAST before you try to impregnate me!”

“You're gonna make ya’ old man wait that long?” he flashed his pretty smile, blue eyes gleaming.

“Well…yes!” you said, the obvious answer, then turned away to the bathroom to make sure he hadn’t messed up your hair.

He sighed and threw his head back, grabbing his phone to see if there was anything to distract him. He scrolled through his apps and checked his bank—$300 spent at the salon.

Oh, yeah, he was most definitely going to fuck you stupid.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

CW- thigh kisses, mention of erection, he need that so badly he's submissive.

Only God knew how much he despised being away from you for so long. Months on end, he couldn't stand it. You were his home, the only peace he had (yes, he had the boys, but they're annoying), he just needed to be wrapped in your arms and smell your scent.

He wasted no time smashing into the house, not sneaking in quietly—not him. He busted down the door like he was chasing a criminal, then hurried toward the living room.

The musky smell of his cheap cologne and sweat followed him, his dirty boots leaving marks on the freshly cleaned floor—he didn’t care, he just wanted to get to you.

He entered the living room and saw you. Of course, because of his loud entrance, you heard him and were already sneaking peeks through your eyelashes at him with your book in your lap.

“Love?” He dropped his duffel bag and moved slowly and deliberately toward you, looking like he’d seen a ghost.

Just as you were about to speak, he dropped to his knees in front of you. You paused, tilted your head to the right, and narrowed your eyes at the large, muscular man in front of you.

His hot, calloused hands wrapped around your ankles and pulled you closer.

“Si!” you squealed, your book falling out of your lap, and your head resting on the couch cushion. He pushed your legs apart, inhaling your sweet scent while kissing up your inner thigh.

“I like it,” he grumbled into your thigh, the vibrations sending sparks up your spine.

“Like what? My hair?” You looked down at him as his tongue slid along your inner thigh and his nose took in your scent every few seconds.

“Yes. It's different from your usual braids, lovely choice.”

“Thank you, so don't mess it up.” You pulled your legs back together.

“Lovie, you can't get a man hard, all dolled up, and then not give him what he needs.”

“I actually can. You can hold yourself for a week and take a shower,” you replied.

He huffed and rolled his eyes but obeyed (he's submissive sometimes, okay?), standing up and walking to the bathroom, muttering about what he planned to do to you once he got his hands on you.

You watched him leave the room and wondered what he’d do when he found out you used his debt.

Oh well, he’d find out eventually—hopefully after you got everything out of your hairstyle.

Johnny “Soap” Mctavish

CW- SS, meaning–Sassy Soap, humor, neck kissing, mention of nudes, clothes grapping, breast groping(through shirt), the most dialogue.

He couldn't take any more. He felt like he was going to die if he spent another minute away from you. Yes, he did somehow blow up your phone throughout the deployment and ask for nudes every night, but just one more second and he’d have a heart attack.

“Bonnie!!!” The loud Scottish man practically kicked the door down, yelling for you. He sprinted through the house looking for you.

He could smell your vanilla perfume from the entrance. He kicked off his boots at the door, showing no concern for anything else. He didn't even care that he left the door cracked open.

You placed your book on the coffee table and sighed, ready for the dramatic entrance he always put on when he came home.

“GODDAMN LASSIE!” he yelled as soon as he saw you.

His jaw dropped; his wife, who usually wore afro puffs and twist-outs, now had a pixie cut. You laughed, that beautiful smile lighting up your face. He just stared, as if he were looking at Aphrodite herself.

“Welcome home, Johnny.” You looked at him with amusement.

“Who do you think you are?! Sitting here looking like a RAVISHING SNACK!” He moved toward you, grabbing your hips and burying his face in your neck.

“It's just a pixie cut,” you replied through small giggles as he smothered kisses all over your neck.

“Well, it's tea.”

“Excuse me, McTavish!”

“You say it, Bonnie. Your hair is tea, clock it!” He pulled back, tapping his fingers together with a big grin.

“Seriously?!” you retorted, rolling your eyes at his odd tendencies. His hands moved up your shirt, grabbing your breasts before diving back into your neck.

“‘m gonna fuck you so good tonight, Bonnie,” he hummed, his tongue dragging across your collarbone.

“Not happening, clock that.”

“Why not?!” he whined with puppy eyes.

“Cause I just got this done. It should last a week or two before a touch-up. I'm getting my money's worth.”

He groaned dramatically and plopped down on the couch, clearly a hot mess.

At least he’d be busy whining so he wouldn't notice that it was, in fact, not your money.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

CW- probably the fluffiest out of all, neck kisses, I may or may not be biased with him, my baby just needs a hug.

Home, comfort, and calmness—that was all he was searching for. Sick and tired of the loud, stressful fields and the chaos, he was done with it. He kept his composure, as he normally did, but he desperately needed you. Kyle was a calm man; he maintained peace with small smiles, jokes, and hope, but even the happiest person needed someone by their side.

He crept open the door, took off his boots, and placed them in one of the shoe slots. As soon as the door shut, he let out a sigh of relief, closed his eyes for just a moment, then headed toward the sound of rustling pages.

The house was warm, just how he liked it. The scent of Indian sandalwood filled the air, bringing him a strange relaxation. A small smile crossed his lips as he strode into the living room.

Oh, you were just perfect. You sat in the middle of the carpet, flipping through your book, legs kicking, and your hair… you were trying to kill him more than his enemies.

“Damn, dearest.” Your head shot up at his voice; he was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, with a smirk of amusement.

“You look amazing.” He strolled over to you, kneeling in front, his smirk shifting to a smile on his handsome face.

“Thank you, darling. I'm glad you like it.” You leaned in and kissed his jaw.

“Never thought I'd see the day when you had hair as short as mine. I guess today is that day.” He chuckled, gently running his hands through your hair.

You smiled, closing your eyes under the soothing sensation of his gentle touch. His hand left your hair and moved down to your chin, grasping it between his fingers and tilting your head back.

He pressed soft, deliberate kisses along your neck. His hands slowly wrapped around your waist, pulling your body closer to him. You hummed in satisfaction, and he gently laid back on the floor, pulling you on top of him.

“Baby… you're gonna mess my hair up!”

“Hmm, no I won't.” He whispered, his warm breath grazing your neck.

You almost argued but ultimately gave in.

I mean, you did use his money… and he probably wouldn't mind paying for a touch-up.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ caleb! ꒰੭

caleb thought it was the most obvious thing to happen.

he was your everything, you were his everything, your relationship slowly began to flourish and gain new dynamics, and now you were a couple!

everyone else thought exactly the same, given how you guys acted with each other.

the constant kisses, the long hugs, his loving eyes and your smitten smile.

come on, even the blind could sense the love in the air and assume you were together.

and while caleb had imagined asking you out in the prettiest, most meaningful ways possible, he thought you would question it or say it wasn't necessary, since things were —and implicitly— already established at this point.

awful mistake.

one night, while he had you on top of him, his hands under your shirt, gently massaging your back, you suddenly looked into his eyes.

he, as always, shifted his entire attention to you, lips finding your nose one, two, and three times in a row.

“you look so pretty like this, angel,” he whispered, to which you smiled.

but you were conflicted, obviously.

he noticed your frown, and his free hand immediately found your cheek, cupping it gently.

“hm? what's with that face, baby? is somethin' wrong?”

meanwhile, you were trying to organize your thoughts and ideas, since you were about to reveal your deepest secret.

“caleb, i… uhm, there's something i must tell you,” you mumbled, fidgeting with his shirt.

he sensed it was something serious, so he sat up carefully and pulled you into his lap, violet eyes softening to encourage you.

“whatever it is, angel, you can tell me.”

but gods, it was so hard…

you didn't want to ruin things, but, deep down, you knew caleb felt the same, so you did what needed to be done.

“i love spending time with you, and… you know, during these years, i've realized i want this… this affection to be permanent,” you met his gaze, albeit nervously. “i— i mean, i don't want this to be casual flirting. i want us to… to be together, if that makes sense.”

crickets.

caleb blinked, smiling softly at first.

but once your words sank in, he frowned, leaning back.

“we are together, baby,” he whispered, caressing your sides.

now it was your turn to frown.

“are we…? since when? you never asked me out,” you leaned back as well, crossing your arms.

well, shit.

he looked away briefly, before turning to you once again.

“always, angel… since forever, i thought i didn't need to ask,” he sighed, his head tilting slightly to the left. “you're meanin' to tell me you thought we were friends this entire time, huh?”

“well, of course!” you huffed, eyes going wide. “what else was i supposed to think, when you never asked me out properly?!”

it was entirely his fault, he was aware.

but the kisses, the morning showers, everything indicated you two were clearly something more.

“baby—”

“oh my gosh…” you stood up and walked away from him, feeling dumb. “how could i be so blind? is this why my friends asked about my ‘boyfriend' all of the time? no way!”

he got up quickly and wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing his chest to your back and burying his nose in your neck.

“angel, listen to me,” he mumbled against your skin. “i thought we were already together, yeah? but if you want me to ask you out properly, i will. just say the word.”

you turned around and looked up at him, still trying to catch up.

“you should've done that months ago without me having to tell you to...” you whispered. “all this time, i thought you were okay with just being friends, and i was afraid of ruining things when i confessed!”

he cupped your cheeks and leaned down to kiss your forehead tenderly.

“my sweet baby, there's nothin' i would want more than to be with you forever,” he assured. “and you didn't ruin anythin'. i just… never thought i had to ask, ‘cause i already considered you mine.”

your cheeks burned at his words.

“i do want to be yours,” you mumbled. “but properly.”

“mhm,” he kissed your lips once, lingering close. “don't worry; i'll ask you out properly and set things straight, so that this pretty head of yours doesn't wander around too much, sounds good?”

you groaned softly.

“i guess… you dummy.”

he grinned and pulled you in for a tight hug, causing you to squeak.

“so, now that i think of it… you were okay with me, your 'friend,' helpin' you shower? takin' you out on dates? kissin' all over your—” before he could finish, you jumped and smacked his chest repeatedly, feeling your face burn.

“shut up! shut up, shut up! i thought you were just…! ugh!”

caleb laughed loudly, holding you close as you tried to squirm away; but he didn't let you go.

instead, he picked you up and walked towards the bedroom.

“well, then,” he whispered against your lips. “allow me to properly court you now, angel. i promise i'll make up for my terrible mistake.”

“caleb!” you gasped, clinging to him so as not to fall, which he would never allow.

but all protests died quickly, drowned by his quick and unapologetic kisses.~

𐙚˙⋆.˚ rafayel! ꒰੭

after a long making out session, both of you were breathing heavily, eyes hazy, faces burning hot.

he kept you close; very close, fingers trembling as he pulled you in for yet another kiss.

instead, your eyes went down to his swollen, pinkish lips before meeting his gaze again.

“raffy…” you whispered softly, to which he perked up, rubbing your noses side to side.

“my pearl… my precious pearl,” he replied, matching your tone. he was breathing heavily, and your heart felt like it was about to explode.

you needed this; you wanted to have this every day, for the rest of your life.

you didn't want this to be a casual thing anymore, you wanted rafayel to become your boyfriend, so you could have him like this whenever you wanted.

your hands cupped his cheeks, and he almost melted.

“i think… i really think we should take things further,” you mumbled, gathering all your courage into that simple sentence.

oh, his eyes went wide.

he looked into your eyes intently, trying to decipher your thoughts.

further…?

so, marriage?

oh, his heart exploded right there.

“i would love to, my pearl… though i wanted to be the one to ask you that,” he whispered, pulling you in for a hug. “give me some time to get you the most amazing ring.”

you tilted your head, leaning back just enough to look into his eyes.

“a… ring?”

“to get engaged,” he nodded with certainty. “what kind of fiancé would i be if i didn't get you one?”

your head was about to burst.

why was he talking about marriage already? wasn't he going too fast?

“rafayel… we need to… be a couple before getting engaged, you know?”

and, once again, he nodded.

“of course, cutie. that's common sense.”

…

both of you were silently staring at each other now, your head cocking to the right, his cocking to the left.

something wasn't right.

“cutie, i want to take things forward too; so much. you know you're my adoration, and we've been dating for so long—”

“hold up, hold up, hold up,” you quickly sat back, eyebrows furrowing. “dating?”

“yeah…” he frowned. “dating.”

“we… weren't dating before,” you whispered, making him lean back.

oh, his expression darkened slightly.

“what?”

“no, i mean, not that i knew of.”

“my pearl— how could you…? we kissed! we make out all the time!” he finally stood up, his hands gesturing wildly. “we worshipped each other's bodies under the moon's presence all night long! isn't that what destined lovers do?”

you stood up as well, growing agitated.

“w-well, yeah! but i thought… i thought we were just overly affectionate friends!”

he gasped and sharply turned to look at you.

“friends?! was i nothing but a mere friend to you?” he clutched his chest, his voice cracking slightly. “was i just… a guy you kissed just because?”

you quickly approached, reaching for his hands.

goddammit.

“of course not, rafayel! i just didn't know we were dating! you never asked me out! how was i supposed to know?”

he remained quiet for some seconds, fingers freezing against yours. his eyes narrowed, and he looked away, a bit ashamed but unwilling to admit it.

“well… intuition? context clues? it was pretty obvious.”

you groaned and covered your face, pacing around the living room as you tried to remember all those “obvious” instances you didn't pay attention to.

now he was starting to feel guilty, since it was partially his fault for assuming you guys were together.

could you blame him, though?

he was desperate to have you, and he could also see how you enjoyed yourself whenever you spent some time alone. his mind automatically assumed you were accepting him as yours.

but, if that wasn't the case (officially), then it only meant that…

he needed to act fast.

he sighed and grabbed your hands, pulling them away from your face just to stare at you intensely.

“be mine, my pearl,” he whispered. “right now. today.”

your breath hitched, but before you could answer, he got closer again, so much so that your breaths became one.

“you wanted to take things further, right? then let me be your boyfriend… formally,” he reluctantly added the last part. “you've already lost a lot of time thinking i wasn't yours, and that's my fault. entirely.”

you looked into his eyes, your heart beating fast.

“raffy…”

“please? you suggested it first…”

you rolled your eyes but soon smiled, nuzzling his nose.

“absolutely yes, you dumb fish,” you kissed his lips gently, eyes crinkling as your smile grew bigger. “i wanted us to spend the rest of our lives together so badly, and… i'm so happy to find out you had already started doing so.”

“what can i say, cutie? i'm a visionary,” he smirked, pulling you into a tight hug before suddenly lifting you up.

you let out a surprised squeal, holding onto him tightly.

“speaking of visions, i'm already envisioning how you'll kiss me tonight,” his lips brushed against yours. “i mean, if you kissed me so passionately while i was just your 'friend,' i wonder how that'll change now...”

you gasped and tried to brush the mental image away, but it was impossible. rafayel was ready to find out and embrace any and all changes.~

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sylus! ꒰੭

labels were unnecessary.

he was yours, as much as you were his, and he was okay with whatever you wanted to be.

however, as time flew by, sylus noticed your demeanor and how you couldn't stop looking at him, and that's when he knew both of you were in love.

he didn't need to say it, did he?

you were already kissing him, clinging to him, following him everywhere…

you had inserted yourself into his life, basically, and who was sylus not to follow the rhythm you were establishing?

you, on the other hand, wondered how sylus felt.

sure, he was just as affectionate and he returned every single gesture of yours, but he never popped the question, nor did he show any interest in having something that wasn't a friendship.

if you only knew you were already way past that stage…

one night, as he was spooning you from behind and gently whispering sweet nothings in your ear, you couldn't help but feel rather strange.

what were you to him?

his friend?

his partner?

someone he just… liked having around?

it didn't help that he was usually blunt and straightforward, because that meant he would've said something if he felt some type of way about you.

and, obviously, that hadn't been the case.

you gently stopped his warm hand as it caressed your belly in circles, making him arch an eyebrow.

“sweetheart?”

you didn't answer.

instead, you turned around to face him, your eyes meeting his with a bit of reluctance.

you didn't want to come off as desperate, let alone ruin what could potentially turn into something amazing, but… you also couldn't remain quiet much longer.

with shaky fingers, you traced the bridge of his nose as a way to calm yourself down and make the situation less awkward.

“sy… i have to ask you something,” you mumbled, your cheeks turning hotter and hotter.

“go ahead,” his crimson eyes locked on yours, giving you his undivided attention.

“what am i… to you?”

he remained quiet; not because he didn't have an answer, but rather because he wanted you to elaborate.

when he realized that wasn't going to happen, he finally spoke.

“why, kitten?”

ugh.

you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, cursing him mentally.

he could always read your mind, so you hated when he made you speak up and potentially make a fool of yourself.

“because i… have feelings for you,” you finally confessed, hesitantly opening your eyes again.

his stare was softer than ever, but you also saw that infuriating smirk starting to appear.

what the hell was so funny?

“sylus, i'm being serious. i'm literally opening my heart to you,” you whispered, frowning slightly. “now answer the question… please.”

he pulled you closer to his chest, his hands slipping down your arms until they reached your lower back.

he didn't have the heart to tell you that you were already everything and anything that involved two people desperately loving each other.

lovers, partners, soulmates…

though, the fact that you were so clueless and genuinely thought you had no relationship whatsoever was adorable.

did you think he wouldn't notice your feelings and desires?

he could gobble you up.~

“sweetheart,” he finally purred, pressing his forehead against yours. “what do you think we've been doing all this time?”

you blinked quickly before narrowing your eyes.

“...making out and spending lots of time together?”

“hm? is that all?” he tapped the tip of your nose gently, and you scrunched it immediately after. “we're dating, kitten. we've been for a while.”

you gasped quietly.

“you— you never told me!”

“you never asked.”

you parted your lips, but didn't say anything. he had a point… well, not really, but how could you respond to that?

“i… i don't need to be asking something you could've just told me before! you never asked me out!”

he stared at you in silence before sighing heavily.

you were right.

one of his hands cupped your cheek, and he kissed your forehead.

so, apparently, labels could be somewhat important (or at least they were to you), and he would respect that and give you what you wanted.

“you are my everything, sweetie. i love you,” the words came out of his mouth so smoothly, you felt like you were floating.

you closed your eyes and hid from his view, nuzzling his neck and shoulder.

he chuckled, cradling your nape.

“and although we are very official and have been quite consistent in this… relationship, i do have to agree with you, kitten,” he stopped briefly, his voice becoming gentle. “i should've asked you out properly.”

you pulled away to stare at him, your eyes wide and your lips slightly parted.

“…are you going to do it now?” you asked quietly.

he grinned.

“do you want me to do it tomorrow?”

you huffed and pulled away, turning around once again and crossing your arms.

your tantrum didn't last long, though, since he pulled you back in place, burying his face in your neck and nipping at the spot to his heart's content.

despite your squeaks and futile kicking, he already knew you would say yes, and you were ready to give in and place a huge, red neon sign on his forehead that marked him as officially yours…

even when he always had been.~

𐙚˙⋆.˚ xavier! ꒰੭

this could've lasted for years and years without either of you realizing it.

you might've as well gotten married without even being a formal couple, and remained perfectly clueless.

in xavier's defense, you acted like a partner would, and since he wanted nothing more than to be your boyfriend, he claimed that spot fair and square.

he protected you, he spent his days hugging you, kissing you, looking at you with that gaze that made you want to squeeze him and leave him breathless…

and, for the rest of the world, you were the strongest and most adorable couple ever; the type that made everyone coo and admire you.

however, while xavier's brain was filled with very important questions, like whether the convenience store would have better deals during the weekend, you were wondering what the best way to confess your feelings would be.

you wanted things to go further, and since xavier wasn't pouring his heart out, you figured you'd have to.

one friday night, xavier was comfortably resting his head on your chest, his cheek adorably squished and his eyes staring up at you.

his light eyelashes fluttered slowly, like a cat trying to communicate and be painfully cute at the same time, without even intending to.

your heart was doing laps inside your ribcage, and you couldn't help but smooch him over and over again, unable to get enough.

“ugh! you're just so cute, xavi,” you groaned, squeezing his face with both hands. “i like you so much…”

he mumbled an “i like you too,” his gaze softening.

your heart fluttered, and in those ten silent seconds, you admired him.

it was the perfect time to reveal the truth.

“xavier… i meant it. i really, really like you. these past few weeks i've been… well, i've been thinking it would be amazing if we could be together,” you whispered.

he blinked softly, before nodding.

to him, you were simply asking to spend more time doing anything and everything, which was something you guys already did.

you frowned softly and took your hands away from his cheeks.

“...is that all? you're just going to nod?”

and he nodded again, although he was now confused, chasing your hand as he wasn't done getting affection.

“yes. we're always together; i'd like to spend even more time with you as well.”

oh, right.

he hadn't understood you.

you smiled softly and shook your head, once again returning your hand to where it was, to which he sighed contentedly.

“no, dummy bunny. i was talking about… you know, becoming more than friends. being properly together, like an official couple.”

his brain malfunctioned.

he looked at you before sitting up with slow movements, rubbing his eyes softly.

“weren't we already…?” he asked cautiously, almost as if he were living in a simulation.

you sat up as well, your smile faltering.

“uh… no?” you shook your head from side to side, thrown off by his genuine confusion.

“no…?”

“not that i remember. i mean, you've never asked, xav.”

his eyes finally went wide, and he averted his gaze, feeling his brain working ten times more than usual.

what the hell had he been doing then?

acting so shamelessly as your boyfriend, getting jealous of other guys, kissing you whenever he wanted, slipping under your covers while you weren't at home…

all while being nothing but what?

a fling?

you crawled closer to him, searching for his face, which looked seriously distressed.

“xavier? xavier, talk to me, what do you mean by that?”

he swallowed hard and covered his face with his hands, rubbing his skin.

“i thought we were already… i mean, you never— i just assumed…”

and it all clicked.

of course he would assume such a thing, especially given how you acted with him.

both of you looked like a mess now, covering your faces and remembering all of the times you guys did more than what friends are supposed to do.

the awkward moment stretched for two more minutes, until xavier's arms wrapped around your waist. he nuzzled your neck, desperately trying to hide his flushed cheeks.

“i want to be your boyfriend, i thought i was all this time, but seeing that i'm not, then…” he trailed off, hands gripping your skin over your clothes.

you hugged him back, feeling your heart beating fast. how did your confession uncover this cute misunderstanding?

“...can i be your boyfriend now?” he whispered, azure eyes meeting yours through his eyelashes. “and forever?”

how could you say no to that face?

you pushed him back and got on top of him, the cuteness aggression becoming unbearable once again.

you attacked him with thousands of quick kisses and light pecks, giggling and squeaking “yes, yes, yes!” over and over.

he smiled and held you close, relief washing over him.

but once he got his strength and courage back, he switched places, his body now caging yours against the mattress.

he'd show time and time again how amazing and caring he was as a boyfriend and a lover, but now that said role was explicitly established and with no room for any doubts whatsoever…

he would compete with that version of himself, to raise the bar even higher than before, so that you never regret making him yours forever.~

𐙚˙⋆.˚ zayne! ꒰੭

zayne low-key knew.

he knew you guys weren't actually together because he never formally asked, and it wasn't because he didn't want to; it was because it was too late to do it now.

months and months had gone by, and you kissed this man as if he were your husband, you marked him like a wild animal, and you showered him in praise and nothing but pure love.

he was afraid of your reaction once he popped the question at this point, because what if you already thought you guys were in a relationship?

what if you got offended?

what if you told him he was a clueless jerk?

you would get mad for sure, and he, selfishly enough, didn't want to risk ruining the best thing that had ever happened to him in years.

so, in his true fashion, he waited for things to develop at their own pace, and since everything was going amazingly, in his eyes you already shared a very strong bond.

furthermore, you didn't need words or labels to describe the situation as more than a friendship, and that was clear, especially to those around both of you.

come on, everyone thought you were a healthy marriage of years.

however, he failed to realize you were in a similar predicament, even more so as the “relationship” was growing steadily, so much so that he almost forgot it wasn't even one yet.

you didn't know if he saw you as his partner, or if you were just friends…

and he didn't ask you to be a couple either, so your brain was working overtime in a tiring way, trying to decipher where you stood in his hectic life.

during one of your visits to his office, you decided that enough was enough.

you were obviously aching to make him yours, and his silence and lack of initiative were unnerving.

you walked down the hall with purposeful steps, knocking firmly on his door.

when he opened up, he expected a kiss and a long hug, but instead, you walked right in and sat on his desk, beckoning him with a serious expression on your face.

oh no…

zayne closed the door behind him and approached, studying your demeanor and body language.

you were tense but confident; a weird combination that he'd never seen before.

“so, zayne,” you began, meeting his gaze. “are you afraid of relationships? of settling down?”

straight to the neck, fast and unmerciful.

his fingers twitched by his sides, his eyes going wide. he wasn't expecting this at all.

“my flower—”

“yes or no?” you whispered, standing up. “because i love you, and i want us to be together.”

his heart fell to his stomach.

so… you didn't know what you were, either?

he felt both confused and guilty.

“you… did not think we were already dating?” he quietly said, fingers carefully removing his glasses, mostly as a nervous habit. he rubbed his temples, sighing heavily.

you narrowed your eyes.

“why would i think such a thing when you haven't opened up?”

okay, yeah. fair.

zayne finally stepped closer, his eyebrows furrowed.

“i am aware i did not make… the most sensible decisions, but i must be honest with you,” he whispered.

“i'm listening,” you crossed your arms under your chest, waiting for his explanation.

“i made a lot of assumptions,” he began, his hands resting beside your thighs. “and one of them was that we were already together.”

you blinked.

“excuse me?”

“months ago.”

your jaw dropped.

this man…

“but— huh? how… when… zayne!”

he looked away, feeling his face turn bright red.

“your affection grew along with your bold gestures, and i assumed you thought of us as a couple. i did not want to ruin things by properly asking you out and… bursting that bubble.”

silence.

you didn't know what to say, what to do, what to complain about.

“so… you just assumed you were my boyfriend? or rather, you assumed that i… assumed we were together?” you groaned, both at the unnecessary repetition of the word and the chaos of the situation.

he was mr. control, mr. cool, mr. methodical.

and now, he was mr. unbelievable.

“i am afraid, yes,” he admitted, hazel eyes traveling up to meet yours with shame and longing.

you stepped closer to him, and closer, until your chests were almost pressed together.

“zaynie…”

“but i do love you. i love you endlessly; i am far from afraid of settling down with you,” he reached for your hands almost hesitantly, and, thankfully, you let him.

“please, forgive my foolishness, my flower,” his lips met your knuckles, and everything inside you softened up.

it was so sweet, but so stupid at the same time.

“zayne,” you cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “you're lucky you're cute.”

he was stunned into silence, lips slightly parted.

“and i forgive you,” you grinned, pulling him closer. “but you have to make up for lost time.”

his brows furrowed.

“how so?”

“you have to properly ask me out, silly. take me out more, kiss me more, and then—”

zayne cut you off with a kiss, soft, slow, and sweet. the only thing that mattered was that you had forgiven him.

when he pulled away, he nuzzled your nose.

“...and then, my love?”

you felt your cheeks burning almost immediately. he had you wrapped around his finger, even when you wanted to strangle him sometimes.

“then… i'll say yes, obviously.”

all the tension left his body, finally.

that was what he needed to hear.

but, obviously, becoming your boyfriend now would be pointless.

he would start looking for a ring, because after all this time, it was far more appropriate to make you his spouse.~