Calming Night

,,, sleepy sex with tsurumi would be undeniably sweet and tender. a little halfassed. a little !! on your end anyway. you're just so fucking tired from doing fuck all and immediately asleep when you hit the bed. no complaints from tsurumi... it's fun moving you around,, arranging you. displaying you,, albeit sluggishly as he's mildly impaired with sleep himself. nothin like a little pick me up to start the day. which is about... 4am? 5? suuuper early !

risen with some morning wood. sure he can jerk off, deal with it himself. but what better way to handle it than handling you ? you wouldn't wanna be left out on this, he knows it !! the porcelain plate stays on...

manuvering you with ease whilst he whispers gruff ,, grizzled praise;; affirmations in that low, tired timbre - "my sweet boy," his freeuse darling lover,,, while he ruts into your ass from behind at a lazy, languid pace. it's a familiar feeling - and you're greeted with gentle kisses in which he sucks, nibbles on your bottom lip.

"... wouldn't want me dealing with this all on my own." mildly possessive. old man who knows how to touch you to render you a spasming mess in his hands ,,, ur far too easy to tease, especially half asleep... your defenses are nonexistent in the bed of lieutenant tsurumi's !! "such a man at my disposal... i couldn't be luckier." hand slipping down the front of ur waistband. twirling his digits along your pubes, before trailing down even further. burying his face in the crook of your neck and suckling lazily ,,, facial hair tickling your sensitive skin ,,, "with a pussy and little prick to boot, huh..."

ultimately vulnerable and ever so weak in his presence ,,, his easily excitable lover who's far too eager for his approval. half awake, n barely protesting as he pulls your bottoms to your knees - juuust enough to feel all of you whilst simultaneously trapping you. "supple... - i could eat you whole." he hums. "later today, my dear. i already find myself missing your cock on my tongue."

;; "ahh..." digits slipping inbetween your folds - slickening within an instsnt. he circles your entrance. waning,,, whispily grunting; "already... so wet for me, my love? i merely touch you like so... and your cunt's soaking..." before abruptly plunging in. scissoring his fingers, spreading. "your pussy's all ready for me,,, even like this, barely coherent... hm?" pulling out, to lubricate your little tdick in your own fluids. "even as sleepy as you are, you're as perverted as ever..." hypocritical...

his forehead; cockhead leaking. dribbling from both holes... sure to show every part of you love and affection - lifting your leg, to pull his cock to rest against your thigh, barely grazing your puffy folds whilst he pays some much needed attention to ur engorged prick ,, silencing your soft little mewls with his mouth. not to say he doesn't adore hearing you cry out for him, incoherent babbling ,,

roaming his hands... with one, careful and spreading your lips apart - and the other, aiming steady with his cock he's lathered in spit and pre. bulbous head poking against your entrance... instinctively shifting for better action. brushing his nose against your cheek in an affectionate nuzzle, half asleep. most likely?!? -  poetic in ways i can't fathom. "my body aches for you, my darling," my love - my dear. with a low groan that sends tingles down to your groin where it throbs hotly,,, sheathed inside you where it belongs

"feel the way my cock yearns for you... you're the only remedy." he murmurs, slipping his arm over your midsection. holding you close, while he pumps in and out at a slow, steady rhythm, ,,, hmm

he's soooo pretty. ogata's pussy would be pretty too,,,,, absolutely fat. pink? light or dark. maybe a low tone of brown... saddle brown...

— suuuper sensitive because he's never been touched by anyone besides himself; even then .!..!!.

he doesn't touch himself too often despite feeling the urge. kinda lets the horny wash over him... lays there, with underwear damp with cum as his thoughts run wild. sleeps. wakes up with Soaked underwear. product of his glorious mind conjuring up the most disgusting dreams ever.

til he has you to handle it for him.

curled up next to each other... back to front; hand buried down the front of his pants, other hand covering his mouth to further muffle his already quiet noises. "shh,, y'don't want the others to hear you, do you?" either... sugimoto's group... or,,, hijikata's. both, probably. where he goes, you go.

;; this man. guiltless creature who swears everyone is just like him,,, so utterly inlov with the thought of virgin!ogata.

he's such a dick but he can be real amicable in his own way... so sweet and needy.

— obviously. being the first cock to break him open,,, you take great satisfaction in the fact. smear it in his face too. you're mine now. staking my fucking claim on this cunt.

— "m' your first... me." you grunt animalistically. drooling a little,, possessively hunched over him, cock throbbing in his taut walls ~ with his stupid cloak discarded underneath him as cushion and his uniform disheveled.

,,, he's pink in the face. dripping in sweat; utterly tantalizing... drooling, eyes glossy. heaving against his cloak pillow... hitting all the right spots with your prick and your words.

— are you sure you've never let anyone else touch you like this? you weren't passed around were you...? you're such a fucking asshole liar, i dunno whether or not to believe what comes out your mouth. gripping his jaw; squishing his cute lil cheeks... he grunts in weak retort and in tandem with your viscious rutting, shakily grabbing onto your forearm and trying sooo hard to retort but you keep cutting him off by slamming your dick all the way inside him,,, poor ogata

,,, "you're so fucking tight, hyakku..." fucking him anally. fingering his cunt while you pump in n out real slow. giving his cute little engorged dick some love to make him cry real pathetic as he squirms and fidgets. so out of character...

— hairy cunt ogata goes so hard but at the same time... i think he'd maintain that shit... like. would he? perhaps. once in a while. how amazing would it be to have his pubes stuck in ur teeth... for love of the game.

he's so so cute. eating him out and making him convulse on your tongue,,,, it's strange n unfamiliar but feels so so right. kissing and licking his folds... mouthing on his little prick,,,,, food for thought. muscular thighs closing round ur head... homemade earmuffs as he pushes down on your head to suffocate you a little. you get back at him by forcing him to cum over and over...

i wanna be mean with him though. make him submit,,, make him think you're gonna impregnate him just before he cums. isnt that the dream? make him squirm in horny disgust.

– flicking his tdick cruelly,,, groping him. freeuse whore, just for you. "what say we make a bastard, huh? you want it? you want a baby, hyakku? be a couple of dads together... doesn't that sound so nice?" rubbing over his tummy, before ur fingers give his little tdick a fingerjob. two fingers hooked, thumb rubbing... "let's forget about the gold, honey... y'don't need it that bad, do you?" tehehaha

;; "y-you fucking asshole! don't-!" huh... he snarls don't. don't cum inside. but with the way his cunt is clamping down on your cock,,, it's like he's begging for it,,,

but... pulling out abruptly. resulting in him squirting on your cock as he winces; whines from the sudden emptiness. spraying... on your lower abdomen...

barely has any time to come down before he's on his knees, taking your cock down his throat and finishing you off. a little too eagerly as he swallows... glaring up at you with tears in his eyes from the utter pleasure you've bestowed on him. kyaaa (๑/////๑ " )

His voice drops, raspy and pained.

“I ache for you.”

You gasp softly. His hand comes up, almost not touching you, hovering, shaking.

Then-

“Love me,” he whispers.

You freeze.

His voice is louder, begging, pleading, shattering. “Love me.”

You’ve never seen him like this. The soldier. The wall. The stoic machine of a man, begging like he’s falling apart. There’s a haunted look in his eyes. Like he’s given up fighting it. You reach for him. And the second your fingertips graze his shirt, he breaks. His mouth crashes into yours, frantic, trembling. His arms wrap around your waist so tight it feels like he’s afraid you’ll vanish. The kiss isn’t neat or sweet. It’s raw. Messy. Devouring.

He’s still holding you like he’s afraid he’ll wake up and you’ll be gone. The rain is falling harder now, a steady thrum against the windows. Your lips are swollen from his kiss, your hands trembling where they clutch at his shirt.

You look up at him. He’s a mess, wet hair clinging to his forehead, lips parted, breath caught in his throat. But it’s his eyes that break you. They’re full of desperation. Of love. Of restraint that’s moments from snapping. Your voice is barely a whisper. Shaky. Vulnerable.

“Ludwig…”

His hand touches your cheek, reverent, like you’re made of glass. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it-”

But your eyes are glassy now too. Your lips tremble as you press your forehead to his.

“I love you,” you whisper. A breath. A cry. A confession.

And then,

“…I love you too, Ludwig. Please…”

He groans, softly, brokenly. And when your hands move to his belt, he catches your wrists. Not to stop you, but because he’s stunned. You undo the buckle slowly, fingers clumsy with how badly you need him.

Your voice comes out desperate, laced with pleading:

“I don’t want this…”

You look him in the eye, nearly breathless.

“…I need this.”

That’s it. That’s the moment he snaps.

He kisses you again, harder this time, devouring. All control is gone. His hands grip your waist, your thighs, dragging you up into his arms like you weigh nothing. Your legs wrap around his hips instinctively.

He carries you and slams you gently but firmly into the nearest wall, his lips never leaving yours.

“God, you drive me insane,” he growls between kisses, his voice thick with hunger. “Do you have any idea what you do to me? What it’s been like trying to keep my hands off you…”

“Don’t,” you breathe against his neck, kissing the line of his jaw. “Don’t keep them off me now.”

Clothes come off in a frenzy, your shirt yanked over your head, his undone belt falling to the floor with a soft clink. His hands are everywhere, finally allowed to touch you the way he’s dreamed of. Fingers in your hair, gripping your thighs, your hips, your ass, your back, he wants all of you.

“You’re mine,” he whispers fiercely, like it’s both a vow and a warning. “You don’t belong to anyone else.”

“Then take me,” you whisper back, breath hitching as his mouth drags down your throat, his tongue tracing along your skin. “Take me, I’m yours.”

And he does.

He presses into you with a growl low in his chest, slow but commanding, your bodies finally giving in to every forbidden moment that led to this one. He kisses the tears from your lashes. He whispers your name like a sacred thing. His rhythm is brutal and reverent, his grip firm but worshipful, like he’s claiming you and praying to you at the same time.

And when you cry out his name, nails raking down his back? He loses it.

“Say it again,” he pleads, breath ragged. “Please… say it again.”

“Ludwig,” you gasp, over and over, and when you sob, he slows, not out of guilt, but love.

“I’ve got you,” he breathes, forehead to yours. “You’re safe. You’re mine.”

Your heart is pounding. You’re still gasping, your fingers tangled in his damp hair, his weight hovering over you protective, grounding, utterly consumed.

But when your eyes flutter open and glance down,you realize, he’s still hard. Still aching. His body shuddering above yours like he’s trying to hold back, trying to behave, even now. You part your lips, about to say something, but he beats you to it. His voice is wrecked. Rough velvet. He leans close to your ear, his breath hot, lips trembling as he whispers.

“We’re not done, liebe.”

You shiver.

“I’ve waited so long for this… so long. I need more of you.”

His hips roll forward just slightly, teasing, enough for you to feel how much he means it.

“Please…”

That please almost breaks you.

He lifts you effortlessly, like you weigh nothing, like you’re something precious and fragile. He carries you through the dark apartment. The storm still murmurs outside, but in here, the air crackles with something holy.

He pushes his bedroom door open with his foot, the space shadowy, quiet, and warm. Then he lays you down in the center of his bed. But instead of climbing over you immediately, he stops. He just looks at you. Like you’re not real. Like you’re a miracle he doesn’t deserve. His chest rises and falls with a shaky breath, and he brushes a hand across your cheek like he’s scared you’ll vanish beneath his fingertips.

“Mein Gott,” he whispers reverently. “You’re like an angel. Mine.”

You reach for him, but he’s already moving, kneeling between your thighs like a man offering worship. No teasing this time. He kisses down your stomach slowly, deliberately, like every inch of your skin deserves a prayer. Each kiss presses reverence into you, each breath grazes your nerves, making your back arch and your lips part in a silent moan. His hands caress your hips, your thighs, your calves, memorizing you. Like you’re something carved in holy marble. Like you’re art that must be etched into his soul.

And then he lowers himself between your thighs. You gasp. Your hands immediately fly to his hair, those thick golden strands you’ve been dying to touch for weeks. You thread your fingers through them, tugging instinctively, because the moment his mouth touches you, it's over.

His tongue moves with the kind of skill and focus that makes your head fall back against the pillows. Every sound is sloppy, wet, unapologetically filthy. He’s not gentle anymore. He’s hungry. Every lick, every moan, every grunted breath against your most sensitive places sends shocks through your core. He’s making a mess of you. Drinking you down like a man lost in the desert. And when you tug his hair harder? When you moan his name?

“Ludwig…”

He grunts, deep in his throat, like your voice is the switch that breaks him. You do it again.

“Ludwig- oh God-“

He responds with more pressure, more heat, more of his mouth devouring you, like he wants to bury himself in your taste, your cries, your surrender.

You feel the pleasure coiling fast, sharp, overwhelming.

You’re shaking.

You’re gasping.

And then-

“Ludwig- Ludwig- Ludwig!”

You say his name like a prayer, over and over, as your fingers tangle tighter into his hair, your thighs closing around him, your whole body breaking apart for him.

And he doesn’t stop.

Not until you’re trembling, ruined, whispering his name like he’s the only thing anchoring you to earth.

He finally lifts his head, lips glistening, eyes blown wide and wild. His voice is low. Hoarse.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Say my name, liebe.”

Ludwig finally lifts his head from between your thighs, lips shining with your slick, cheeks flushed, breathing like he’s just won a war and he’s not done. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then glances down at his fingers, wet and glistening with you. His eyes darken. Without breaking eye contact, he brings them to his mouth and licks them clean.

Slow.

Greedy.

“So fucking sweet,” he murmurs under his breath, as if he’s already drunk on you.

You can’t move. Can’t think.

And then he’s crawling back over you, broad, solid, overwhelming, until he’s slotted perfectly between your thighs again. One hand cradles your face, the other guiding himself against you, as his lips crash into yours. The kiss is messy, wet, open-mouthed and starved. You can taste yourself on his tongue, can feel the need in every frantic stroke of his mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning into him as his hips press forward. You feel him. Hard. Hot. About to take you again. Your gasp tears from your throat before you can stop it, your legs tightening around his waist.

“Ludwig…” you cry softly, trembling.

He stills for a moment, just long enough to press his forehead to yours, whispering in your ear.

“Shhh… I’ve got you. You’re safe, liebe. I’ve got you. You’re mine. I’m here. Always.”

His voice is low, reverent, desperate. He’s trying so hard to be gentle. Like he’s afraid of overwhelming you. His hands tremble slightly as they cup your thighs, your hips, your waist. He rocks into you slow, deep. You moan again, whispering his name with tear-filled eyes. That’s what breaks him.

“Oh… Sheiße… You feel… you feel so good I can’t-“

And then he loses it. His restraint shatters. His hips snap forward faster, deeper, and the reverence turns to pure need. Hands gripping your thighs tighter. Mouth dragging down your neck. A growl rumbling in his chest.

“You’re mine,” he hisses, voice shaking. “You’ve always been mine- fuck- you don’t know what you do to me…”

Each thrust is rougher, the slap of skin echoing off the walls, your moans mixing with his panting, the room hot and breathless with tension that’s finally combusted. He’s ravishing you now, head buried in your shoulder, groaning against your skin, clinging to you like he’ll fall apart without your body wrapped around his.

And through it all, he’s still whispering-

“So beautiful.”

“So perfect.”

“I’ll never let you go.”

You feel him deep, overwhelming, relentless, and just when you think he’s about to finish, he suddenly stops.

You whimper, confused, hips rolling back instinctively to chase more. His voice comes low, dark, commanding,

“Turn around. On your hands and knees.”

Your breath catches.

The way he says it, like he’s barely holding himself back, like it’s not a request but a need, sends heat flooding between your legs all over again.

You obey, slowly shifting, every movement deliberate, teasing. When you settle on your hands and knees, you glance back at him, eyes heavy, lips parted. And Ludwig looks wrecked. Jaw clenched, hair messy, pupils blown wide with lust as he takes you in from behind.

“Scheiße…” he growls under his breath.

He doesn’t waste another second. He grabs your hips and thrusts back into you with such force your arms nearly give out. The angle is perfect, intense. And the room fills with sloppy, filthy sounds, his skin hitting yours, both of you gasping and crying out.

And then-

His hand finds your hair.

He wraps those fingers in your locks, tugging hard enough to drag your back flush against his chest. The movement makes you gasp, moan, arch into him. He’s kissing your neck now, panting, groaning into your skin.

“You feel- so fucking perfect,” he grits out. “I’m going to lose my mind-“

He drives into you harder, deeper, every motion reckless with need. You’re losing it. Pleasure curls violently in your gut and you can’t hold it back. Your whole body shudders, and suddenly

You squirt. Juice splashes down your thighs, soaking both of you, pooling against your skin, the sound obscene, wet, feral. You cry out, nearly collapsing from the intensity. Ludwig groans so loud it turns into a roar.

“FUCK- you’re- look what you do to me, liebe- Gott, I can’t-!”

That’s it.

He slams into you one last time, buried to the hilt, as his hips stutter violently. He pulls your head back by your hair and buries his face in your shoulder with a groan so deep and broken it feels like a prayer.

He finishes hard, body shaking, breath gone, lips murmuring your name over and over as he comes undone inside you.

For a moment, there’s only silence.

Just the sound of rain again outside.

And then, his arms wrap around your middle, pulling you back against him like he’s afraid to let you go.

“ivan?” your head turned.

you and him were sat on his bed together. ivan would get pretty lonely out in the snow, in the middle of basically nowhere, so you made it a duty to visit him whenever you could.

“mmhm?” he’d gently hum, keeping his face towards the tv screen that was playing a random movie that was obsolete to the moment.

“aren’t you warm?”

he finally looked over at you, keeping his never-faltering smile, “did you forget we are in russia?”

“yeah.. but your heating is on and this bed is warm.” you excused.

“.. are you asking me to undress myself?”

you blinked with a sigh, looking off. the goal was to be a natural-kind of sexy about it, but his bluntness ruined it.

“yeah.” your head nodded, “that’s.. yeah.”

“oh. okay.” he nodded back, his lips curving up a bit more.

as you watched ivan remove his clothes, you thought more about him. if you ever wanted to get down and dirty wit him, he’d almost never refuse. the only times he would refuse would be when he was genuinely busy with something, and even then he’d express that he was sorry and wanted to.

ivan always came down to the same quote— ‘if i could, i would.’. because of this, you’d always make it clear to him that it was totally okay to refuse your advances. he seemed to understand before you’d even mention it. your train of thought seemed to immediately halt when you saw his bare chest.

the sight felt beautiful to you. ivan wouldn’t let himself be vulnerable around just anyone— it was a risk to russia’s reputation. your body shifted closer to him and your hand raised to feel the warm skin. ivan simply watched your hand while quietly humming once more.

“.. y’know..” your own head landed onto his bare shoulder, “this is working me up a bit.”

“is it?” he questioned, “would you like to do something more?”

“yea.”

“okay, любимый.” ivan moved himself, turning his back to the tv so that he could carefully push you down.

as your hair hit back against the pillow, your eyebrows barely furrowed as you glanced away. ivan was always gentle with sex. it was nice— and it was heartwarming to see his care in its full glory, but..

it didn’t always fulfill you. the lack of dirty talking or elongated foreplay almost agitated you too much to help you remain wet and horny. but you knew ivan wasn’t purposely trying to irritate you. after all, communicating what you want is how you get what you want.

he leant down to softly kiss you. what started as a regular kiss derailed into a makeout. in between breaths, you decide to speak out the dirty talk you craved from him.

“i want you inside of me..” you panted, “badly..”

“you will get it..” he assured you, “don’t worry, миленький..”

“ungh.. but i want it now..”

ivan left your lips and moved down to your neck, unbuttoning your pajama shirt for you. his tongue left salivary art upon the skin.

“let me take this off for you, then..” he mumbled.

“fuck, yes, ivan!”

your dirty talk had worked— he was being vocal for a change. his smiling face was buried where your neck and shoulder meet, pounding into you roughly. you could even hear soft groans leave his lips— a rare occurrence, even in bed.

“m-mmh.. you feel so good, любимый..” he ran his hands down your weak body, eventually pausing on your hips and gripping them securely.

“i-ivan..” you whimpered, unable to stop the one reoccurring thought you had, “.. i-ivan, please..”

his response was a hard thrust and a whisper of, “yes?”

“d-don’t pull out.”

ivan stopped. it gave you both confusion and a moment to catch your breathe.

“i-ivan?” you stammered worriedly when you came back to your senses. was that too dirty for him?

a minute. he didn’t responded for a full minute. but then, he did.

“.. you don’t want me to pull out?” ivan sat up.

he stared down at you. his eyes.. god, those eyes. they had a sudden spike of lust in them. and more shockingly, his smile was gone.

“.. no..” you confirmed.

a pit of nervousness formed in your stomach. something had drastically changed in him.

“are you sure?”

your legs just barely moved, but ivan’s hands caught them. he pushed them down by your sides, painfully open.

“f-fuck— fuck yes.. yes, ivan.. yes.” your body subconsciously twitched.

your mind was gone. as your head lolled back mindlessly and your eyes did the same, ivan continued to relentlessly pound your tired hole with that thick cock you never thought you’d get to experience this way.

with the way he was ontop of you and the position you were both in, there was no closing your legs. letting him fuck your brains out was pretty much the only option. and as soon as you brought up the idea of not pulling out, ivan rushed to it.

his smile had returned, but it almost seemed patronising now, “you like it, сладкая шлюшка?”

you had no idea what his russian words meant, but they sounded both loving and condescending. he clearly enjoyed seeing you so.. ruined. disheveled, even.

“.. y-yes.. ngh..” your mouth drooled just barely.

his thrusts weren’t the gentle ones you were used to. they were hard and rough. and with each thrust, he made sure to nestle himself deep inside your pussy, just to make sure that if he accidentally came, it would be deep within you.

“if you get pregnant..” he leaned down further to talk to you, “we are keeping it, хорошо?”

“o-okay—“

“good.” he gave your throat a small nuzzle, “and if you don’t, we are doing this again until you do.”

he slammed his hips back and forth into you, until eventually he began to let out moans of his own. they turned you on even more, and it became apparent that cumming inside of you had been a long-term desire of his that he didn’t have the confidence to act upon.

his right hand fled down your stomach until it reached your abdomen, and then your clit. his smooth thumb rubbed your swollen clit in circles, causing you to tremble.

“i-ivan— i-i can’t take—“

“yes you can.” he flashed you that signature, kind smile.

“i-i can’t—“

“yes you can.” he repeated more menacingly.

so, you shut yourself up and drowned out your own protests with whines. not much longer passed until ivan’s moans became more desperate and animalistic, and so did his rough hip-movements.

“o-oh— ah—!” his eyebrows creased as he leaned downwards more comfortably. his position probably wasn’t comfortable, but he didn’t seem to care.

with a back arch and a tight grip of your hips, ivan came. but despite his euphoria, he made sure to push himself deep inside. the feeling of his warm cum filling you was enough to cause your own orgasm, which was surprisingly a lot less dramatic than his.

both of you spent a long time jus breathing and processing. ivan refused to pull out for a good while. but when he did, he collapsed onto you tiredly. his already sleepy face was buried into your collarbone, and your hand raised to stroke his hair.

you figured that getting bred by him.. wasn’t going to be a one-time occurrence.

Zuke

For being the chillest dude in the city, he honestly grows confused, yet flattered. He isn't much into flowers, but he appreciates them never the less with a growing blush on his cheeks. He's never gotten flowers from anyone before, but he'd rather buy his S/O flowers instead cause he loves to see their reaction (including giving them lots of kisses right after.)

DK West

Same as Zuke (cause he's his older brother obviously, duh) but acts very excitable as he picks his S/O up in a big bear hug. He's quite surprised they did something quite out of the norm, but he appreciates their enthusiasm when they show him the flowers with a jolly yet anxious look on their face. 

Mayday

Oh boy. If you thought she was already cracked, she'd be even more cracked tossing the thought of personal space out the window when her S/O gives her flowers. She's always excited getting anything from her S/O in general really, but the flowers they picked out were her favourite colour (and they smelt nice.) Since she lives in a sewer, she couldn't keep the poor things alive. Zuke told her so after all.

Eve

Poor thing grows into a blushing mess, basically speechless. She's just so appreciative while loving the generous gift. The flowers that her S/O gifted her gave Eve the inspiration she needed for her next art piece. This new sense of inspiration lead Eve to taking the flowers (including their S/O) to her studio and started a new project that evolved all around them, the flowers, and every amount of love Eve has for her S/O into it. 

Tatiana

Doesn't seem amused or impressed by them at first, but she takes the flowers from her S/O and thanks them anyway. Tatiana is quite a softy when she's alone so when no ones looking (including her S/O) she's able to finally use a somewhat-expensive-vase that was the perfect size for the flowers, leaving them in her office. When her S/O comes up to her office, they seem them on the table while Tatiana admired them. Let's just say after that happened Tatiana and her S/O have an "argument" about who's the cutest one now in their relationship. 

Neon J

He finds it weird at first (regardless of his S/O's gender) Neon only acted like this not to hurt their feelings of course, but this was just something he wasn't used to. Time passed by until Neon grew flustered, but his S/O caught him read-handed, pulling him into a hug. Neon J admits it while hugging them back, no longer being able to hide it behind his tough exterior anymore.

Rin (1010)

Would be in complete shock. He thought it was supposed to be the other way around. The bouquet of camellia's where beautiful to his eyes though. He's quite flattered either way, (and very blushy) and doesn't know what to say or do. Being the emotional robot Rin was, he almost bursts into tears, but holds them in and brings his S/O in a bone crushing hug after snapping himself out of his shocked state.

Zimelu (1010)

His face is as bright as a lava lamp once he sees a bouquet of amaryllis's in his S/O's hands. He felt strange receiving flowers, but thankfully takes them into his hands with a quick thank you. He basically turns very tsundere. He won't admit it, but after he received the flowers, he immediately looks for a vase and got them all nice and pretty on his nightstand right by the window, admiring them.

Purl-Hew (1010)

Acts very tsundere receiving the flowers. They were gorgeous blue flowers. He tries to hide his blushing, bright cheeks, but fails miserably. He also tries to hide a growing smile on his face. If him and his S/O are alone, he'd hold them close and kiss them all over their face. Since he's too shy to speak at that moment, his actions spoke for him.

Haym (1010)

Knowing how Haym is receiving any gift from his S/O, he was a thrilled blushy boy after receiving the bouquet of blue violets. Yeah, they'll die eventually, but it's the meaning behind the flower and the thought that counts! Haym showers his S/O with affection after receiving them.

Eloni (1010)

Doesn't know how to react to the bouquet of pink roses. He was pretty shocked. His cheeks grew the brightest they've ever been, blinding their S/O's eyes slightly. He apologizes and says he can't help it with a giant smile on his face while picking up his S/O to take them to his room to shower then with affection.

DJSS

DJ's reaction was... not too pleasant at first. He acted like his egotistical self, but he was a bit more rude about it (cause of his masculinity, but he wouldn't tell his S/O that) He kept calling them simpleton, but not in a joking way like he usually would. This left his S/O saddened, feeling tears start falling down their eyes. They begin to walk away as the flowers plopped on the ground. After hearing them leave, DJ huffs, feeling bad that he reacted the way he did. He turns around in his chair to see the flowers on the ground. They were a mixture of colours just like the galaxy. DJ then realized he fucked up, getting up to grab the flowers and looked for his S/O. He felt his heart sink as he quickly grabbed his phone to call them. Not to get too personal or anything, but when his S/O picked up, DJ was already driving to their house to cater and love them to apologize for him being such an asshole. 

Kliff

This rat of a man acts quite tsundere. He acts like he's upset and despises the flowers, but truly he doesn't. He's always appreciated and loved plants, but he wouldn't tell his S/O that so they could embarrass him even more with their way of expressing their love and affection for him.

horsey