GONNA SHOW HIM YOURE MINE.

“GONNA SHOW HIM YOU’RE MINE.”

WINDBREAKER BOYS + LOVE BITES. ft. togame jo, hayato suo, kaji ren, sakura haruka, & umemiya hajime x f!reader

filled request: “Can I request for umemiya, sakura, suo, and kaji where they see reader with another guy friend and they get jealous because the guy is being flirty and obviously trying to make moves but reader is dense so then the boys give reader a hickey for the first time to show that reader is taken??”

mdni ! suggestive. 1.5K WC ; added togame ! :>

TOGAME JO. pet name ‘doll’ used!

“him again?”

you adjust the straps of your top before twisting and turning to get a better look at your outfit. “mhm,” you hum in response, “said he needed help asking someone out today. i’m gonna help pick the flowers.”

togame's eyes narrow a bit at the obvious intent of your friend. it didn’t help that you really didn't have a single clue in the world, and on top of your obliviousness— you're dressed so cute.

the combination was just a recipe for disaster, and he wants to finally put an end to it today.

“ah— what are you doing?” you yelp when he suddenly tugs at your wrist, pulling you off balance as you stumble and fall onto his lap. his arm comes to loop around your waist before you can even stabilize yourself, hugging you tight against his chest.

“togame, let go,” you whine, “i’m gonna be late!”

“don't wanna.”

the casualty of his tone makes your eyebrow twitch. he almost sounds bored with how slow the words come out of his mouth, and despite that fact, his arm doesn’t seem to budge at all when you try and push against him.

“plus…..” he’s choosing to ignore your efforts to move him— or he just doesn’t notice them in the first place, “you don’t need to meet with a guy like that anyway.”

“and why is that?” you retort, arms crossing in frustration as you give up and resort to simply glaring back at your boyfriend. "..are you jealous?"

"course i am, doll" he lulls, fingers pulling your top’s strap out of the way before his lips attach themselves to the side of your neck, sucking at the skin as you shiver. his hand tilts your jaw to the side, giving him the space he needs to better suckle and kiss your neck.

you can’t help the little noise that slips out when he releases the skin with a loud pop, exhaling deeply against you before peppering kisses beside the dark mark he's given you.

“can't stand when guys are tryna get at what's mine.”

HAYATO SUO.

“that friend of yours..” suo coos against the shell of your ear, “really likes you, doesn’t he?”

he's looming right over you, his familiar smile looking a little different today when his arms are caging you right beneath him, and you suck in a sharp breath when he leans down, tassel earrings tickling the sensitive skin of your neck.

“h-huh? he does?” your voice comes out a little breathless from the way his lips are just barely hovering over your skin.

“he does. you couldn't tell?”

in any other situation, he would think your innocence would be endearing. but after watching your friend get all close to you like that, holding your hair up and then fixing your necklace for you— he couldn't help it. a part of him is thankful for how steady his voice comes out, because you'd never be able to guess that just below his calm exterior- he was absolutely fuming with jealousy.

“no, i didn't know,” you whisper, “but you know i would've turned him down if he said anything-”

“i can help with that,” he interrupts, tone sweet and soothing. he plants a kiss just below your ear, his breath grazing your ear, and it sends a shiver straight down your spine.

“h-how?” you squeak.

you can feel him smile against you before his hand comes to tilt your head to the side, exposing more of your neck for him. “just like this,” he whispers before he's taking a sharp inhale, lips latching onto you as he sucks harshly.

the noise that comes out of you riles him up even more. he's sucking harder before he even realizes, calm demeanor crumbling just a bit when he hears the noises you’re making just for him.

you think you felt his teeth graze your neck for a second when he releases the skin, pulling back a bit to admire the mark he’s left on your neck.

"it's a good idea, right? turn your head the other way for me now."

KAJI REN. calls you ‘my girl.’

“w-what's wrong, kaji?” you manage to stammer between kisses, “you're a lot rougher today— something on your mind?”

he pulls back a bit when your hands tug at his hair, a part of him content when he sees the way your lips are slightly swollen, your mouth parted to catch your breath as your chest rises up and down from the intensity.

there was a lot on his mind, but marking you up was at the forefront of his brain. he could already tell that only kissing you just wasn’t gonna cut it after all that’s happened today.

“‘s fine,” he mutters before he’s back on top of you, his lips roughly latching onto the skin just beneath your collarbone, sucking at the skin as you gasp above him. “oh- t-that feels good,” your voice comes out as a breathy sigh, “are you… mad still?”

“mad at that friend of yours,” he growls against your skin, pressing a quick kiss onto the mark until he's moving onto another part of your neck, lips hovering just below your ear. “he was tryna get at my girl right in front of me.”

“i'm sure he wasn't— ah!” you gasp when his arms wrap around your middle, pulling you flush against his body as he tilts his head to better nestle into the crook of your neck.

“got me pissed off just seeing him looking at you like that,” his teeth graze against your skin when he sucks particularly hard, “gonna make sure he’ll get a nice and close look at these next time.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

kissing sakura is much, much different today.

he’s rough— hands trailing along your back, sending an shiver straight down your spine as he deepens the kiss, breaths mingling with urgency. the way he’s kissing you so desperately today has little gasps escaping your lips, which do nothing but encourage him to touch you more.

"f-fuck," he gasps between kisses, pulling back to inhale sharply before your fingers come to tangle in his hair, pulling him right back into you.

“someone's in a bad mood.” you giggle, and he scoffs in response, a dusting of pink over his cheeks. “‘m not mad.”

"you sure? what's got you so worked up?"

and he hates that he doesn't know. he doesn't know what this feeling is, so he has no idea how to get rid of it. all he knows is that it didn't feel nice when he saw your friend all up over you.

it should've been him instead— he thinks. and all he wants now is to have you.

your breath hitches in your throat when his lips begin to trace a path down your neck, pressing wet kisses between each inch of skin. “i don't know,” he admits through a deep blush, “just want…this.”

just thinking about the earlier events makes his blood boil again, and it shows in his next kiss. he accidentally sucks at your neck for a moment, and a lewd moan slips right through your lips.

your hand slaps over your mouth a moment too late, and he freezes in place, deep blush spreading to his ears at the sound. he’s never heard you never make that noise before.

"d-don't stop, sakura,” you urge, tugging at his hair, “feels good.”

he pulls back a bit to roughly shake his head, shake off the irritating blush before his eyes finally flicker towards the subtle mark he’s left on your skin. it’s a deep shade of purple, and something about it makes him feral— it scratches at the itch he’s had all day.

he doesn’t think he’ll be stopping anytime soon, at least.

“f-fine,” he growls, “turn your head.”

UMEMIYA HAJIME.

umemiya sighs when your phone buzzes again, the sound catching your attention as you scroll to check your messages again. you're leaning back against ume's chest when you open it, letting him rest his head on your shoulder with a dramatic pout.

"he's tryna steal you away from me," he whines, arms hugging tightly around your core. "s no fair."

how you were able to reduce bofurin's strongest— the one standing at a staggering 6’2 to a needy little puppy is beyond him. but in his defense, he thinks he's been waiting for your attention for ages by now.

it seems like the second you're finally putting down your phone to turn your attention to him is the exact moment your friend decides to send yet another message, your phone buzzing from the notification— and your attention shifts back to that guy just like that.

it's a never ending loop, and he's getting desperate.

“he's not, ume,” you mumble, fingers clicking at your screen. “he's just my friend. and he’s asking to get dinner with everyone tomorrow.”

you don't notice the way his bottom lip pokes out in a pout, eyes then narrowing into a glare directed at your screen before he's pulling you a bit closer to himself, arms holding you impossibly tighter against his chest.

it was really not fair.

it only takes a few more seconds of pouting before his eyes suddenly flicker to the bare skin of your neck, and he perks up when he thinks of an idea. a great idea.

“..you gonna go with them? tomorrow?”

you give him a nod, and if umemiya had a tail— it would be wagging now. his lips start to excitedly ghost over your skin, taking in the scent of your perfume, and his gaze is focused and intentional as he tries to gauge your reaction.

nothing, so far.

so he presses an experimental kiss onto your shoulder, eyes watching you closely— and still nothing. you only perk up a bit when he finally decides to proceed with his plan and takes the skin in his mouth, sucking at it for a bit before releasing it with a lewd pop.

"ume— d-did you just leave a mark?”

“i did,” he’s grinning now, staring at the mark he's left— and he thinks it's surprising dark for how gentle he was. it was only the first one tonight, after all.

“want another one?”

𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 — 𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐢

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. gintoki sakata x fem!reader

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. fluff with a sprinkle of angst, mentions of violence, blood and scars, gintoki has a few injuries and still manages to be a flirt

𝖲𝖸𝖭𝖮𝖯𝖲𝖨𝖲. you tend to gintoki’s wounds after another battle. while scolding him for his reckless behavior, you accidentally confess your love for him.

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖱'𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤. i still can’t get over the lack of fanfic in this fandom, so i’m here to bless you with another fluffy fic for gintoki. i had so much fun writing this and hope you enjoy this as much as i did

𝖫𝖤𝖭𝖦𝖳𝖧. 2.661 words

MASTERLIST

Blood seeps through the thin fabric of his white yukata that he slips off his body and throws into the corner of your otherwise clean room without care, bunched up with his signature black suit next to the muddy pair of leather boots he wore only minutes ago. When did he get here? 

It’s already dark outside, the sun has settled behind the skyline of Edo and marks the rise of the colorful nightlife that sweeps through the lively streets with a muffled buzzing, happy laughter mixing with the sound of clinking bottles. Time seems to slow down, seconds melt into minutes, minutes alter into draining hours and the night just doesn’t seem to find an end or perhaps it has only just begun. He doesn’t know.

Everything feels heavy, so heavy and terrifyingly surreal, limbs numb with fatigue and defeat. There is no fear, no pain, just exhaustion that crawls deep into his wounded skin and whispers empty promises of eternal rest and a better world into his ears if he just closes his eyes for a passing moment. A dangerous temptation he can’t withstand much longer,

“You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days, Gin.” Your voice pulls him back to reality, a sweet warmth lacing the admonishing words that flow from your tongue like strawberry milk, even when you’re scolding him for the second, no, third time this week.

As you give him a pointed look over your shoulder, you prepare the medical equipment you need to treat his injuries, calmly sterilizing the thin needle which is going to pierce through the first layers of his skin and pull thread through his body to close the deep cuts littering his scarred torso.

Clean white gauze and a bowl of cold water are carefully placed on the floor next to a washcloth and shirt that doesn’t belong to him. The blue cotton is soft to the touch and light like a feather almost feels like nothing at all under his fingertips and Gintoki supposes that it’s meant for him to wear after you stitched him back together like a cheap ragdoll. “There’s a hospital in Edo, too. I hope you know that.”

Gin grunts in response. It’s a struggle to shift his arms and move into a comfortable sitting position - the fight really took a toll on him this time, he has to admit that as he glances down to inspect the damage the blade of his opponents caused, though he barely has the time to gape at his slashed torso before you swiftly push him back into the futon with a disappointed tut.

“Don’t move more than necessary or you’re going to bleed out on my floor,” you grumble next to him, kneeling down and slowly sliding closer within reach to examine his injuries. The cold of the damp cloth pressed to his side without a warning causes him to yelp in surprise, quickly merging into a groan of pain when you clean the deep cut on his toned abdomen. The sudden sting lets nausea bloom in the pit of his stomach and tears prick at the corners of his eyes, clinging to his silver lashes and blurring his vision until the contours of your room dissipate into a pool of various colors. “Oi, quit it! Were you whining like that during that stupid fight, too?”

Arching your brow, you lean forward to get a better glimpse of the cut you decided to treat first. Delicate fingers ghost over his abused ribs with caution, caress his bruised chest with tenderness and skim over the swollen edges of the cut to spread the skin enough for you to see how deep the blade slashed through his flesh.

By now, this is already routine — inspecting each wound, treating each cut with the utmost care, and keeping him alive until Kagura and Shinpachi drag him to your doorstep in a few days again. If you’re lucky, he spares you the weekend and acts on his reckless instincts a week later, though you won’t place your trust on a spark of naive hope to get some peace and quiet.

“Hey, stay with me,” you remind Gintoki softly when you notice his eyes fluttering close in exhaustion, gently slapping his pale cheeks until his crimson gaze is focused on you once more. His state is worse than you initially thought. Shit. Worry settles in the back of your mind like a starved predator, lurking and waiting hungrily at the sight of feverish sweat glistening on his forehead, drenching silvery strands of his disheveled hair while a deathly sallowness takes over his handsome features.

The tips of your fingers, now trembling with agitation, are already stained red, the coppery smell of blood lingers in the air and stings in your nose. With a shaky exhale, you stop your administrations for just a fleeting second to collect your raging thought and push the welling fear of losing him into the shadowed corner of your head.

You can do this.

And even if you can’t, you have to.

“You won’t die on my watch, Shiroyasha,” you growl with new composure and although he barely understands what you’re saying, Gintoki still manages to nod his head in affirmation. The sound of your voice is enough to weigh him in a soothing sense of safety as he studies your face with astonishment.

Yeah, okay, he’s a little dazed and unable to respond properly because of the fair amount of blood loss he endured and the consistent lack of adrenaline drags him into a pit of consciousness and weightlessness (maybe you drugged him), but he’s certain that you’ve always been this beautiful even while your hands are covered in blood and you’re stitching his wounds together with composed steadiness, working over his drained body with skill and precision. “You’re going to live, so I can kick your ass for being so reckless.”

He won’t die.

Gintoki trusts you and your experience, he really does, but he’s so tired and his vision begins to grow blurry with each passing minute. Just give in, a voice in the back of his head whispers, just close your eyes and sleep. Far away, you call out his name, shaky and weirdly scared, yet he can’t find the power in himself to fight the overwhelming darkness any longer, engulfing him and pulling him into an icy sea of nightmares.

Shiroyasha.

He wakes with a jolt that sends a blazing fire through every fiber of his being, wide eyes and a bolting heart, the smell of blood and smoke lingering on his skin. War. Zura yells his name and Takasugi’s war cries still ring in his ears, the clashing of metal against metal sends sparks flying through the smoke, swords and dead bodies cover the ground. No. No, no, this can’t be, please—

“Oh, you’re awake.” His panicked gaze wanders to your welcoming face. A timid grin traces the corners of your mouth at the relived whisper of your name that leaves the depths of his throat as his shoulders relax. No war. Just you and your gentle hands, gliding over his heated skin and offering him a glass of fresh water which he empties within seconds. No war. “You scared me there for a second, Gin. Thought I lost you.”

“How…How long was I out?” He croaks and coughs hoarsely while carefully shifting his body, sliding back until his broad back meets the cold wall of your room. Everything hurts, muscles straining and protesting at his rapid movements, yet he doesn’t care. There’s worse than a little ache in his arms and legs.

“Only a few hours.” You press the palm of your hand against his forehead. A sigh of relief leaves your chest when you notice that the fever plaguing him during his slumber has finally subsided. Carefully, you lean over his waist to undo the bandages around his torso to change them, since the sterile fabric is long soaked in sweat and the remnants of blood that seeped through the stitches and stain the gauze.

The wounds aren’t infected, though the skin is still tender to your touch, irritated and swollen around the edges. “You really have to be more careful. I know you’re just trying to save the day and you don’t care about your own life,” you tilt your head to catch his gaze with a soft smile. “But I do.”

It’s quiet for a while as you clean some of the dried blood around the stitches that keep his cuts together before turning back to the bowl of water next to you. Rinsing out the washcloth, you watch how the drops of red dissipate in the water. His blood. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, the mere thought of Gintoki in pain and although you’ve seen him in this state plenty of times, you still can’t get used to it.

The kids always bring him to you since they meet you and learned about your medical skills, always asking for your help with quivering lips and tears in their eyes, still holding a childlike gleam of hope to suppress the agony of losing him in the open palms of death. As much as it hurts to admit this, but if Gintoki continues this pattern of carelessness and idiocy, he will die.

Sooner or later, he will.

Taking new gauze and clean bandages, you begin to wrap it around his chest and abdomen, gently smoothing the fabric and securing it by tucking the loose end under the wrap. “Have you ever thought about the kids? What are Kagura and Shinpachi supposed to do without you, huh? You can’t just leave them behind because you thought it would be funny to bleed out after a fight.”

To emphasize your scolding, you smack his shoulder before he can open his mouth to argue with you. The audacity of this man, unbelievable. “You’ve never seen their faces when they bring you to me, have you? Because let me tell you one damn thing, Sakata Gintoki, the looks on their faces break my heart every fucking time.”

You push a few strands of silver hair out of his crimson eyes and wipe the blood staining his porcelain skin, eyebrows furrowed as you think about your next words. Perhaps, you already said too much, because Gin has been awfully quiet for the past minutes, staring at you with such intensity that it makes your foolish little heart flutter in your chest like a fragile butterfly. “Listen, I’m glad to help wherever I can, but what if… what if one day, I’m not fast enough? I couldn’t live with myself if you died because of me.”

With a shaky sigh, you lift your hand to clean his split brow, but Gintoki catches your wrist before your fingertips can graze his skin. “Don’t say that,” he murmurs with a smile, gentle and kind, somehow reassuring. You’ve never seen that expression on his face before, though you could get used to it. Who knew his smile could be this bright? “You’re the best nurse I ever had. And a hot one, too.”

“I hate you,” you state with a furious blush tinting your cheeks. Unbelievable, this man. Despite losing consciousness less than four hours ago, he still finds the strength to shamelessly flirt with you — you’re not sure whether to be impressed or pissed off by his teasing.

Cocky bastard.

“That’s a little mean, don’t you think? Besides, you don’t really mean it.” A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth and he raises his arm to scratch at the back of his head, still holding your wrist in his other hand. Muscles bulge at the movement, a reminder of his capability to fight any rival and accentuating the strength and power he carries despite being the biggest idiot you have ever met. The white demon, that’s what they call him, the samurai. You’ve seen him wield a sword before — terrifying and lethal, though it doesn’t spare him from every injury.

Your gaze wanders over his biceps, following a prominent vein along his arm until your eyes meet his. Amusement glints in his dark orbs and a knowing smirk traces his lips. He caught you.

“Of course I don’t hate you.” Slipping your hand out of his grasp, you dip the washcloth into the bowl of water once more, before running it over his brow to wipe some dried blood off his skin. A small scratch decorates his temple, a wound you didn’t notice before and you have to physically retreat yourself, so you don’t act on the heat surging through your stomach and press a chaste kiss to the cut. “I’m just worried about you because I love you so much—”

Fuck. You freeze momentarily, eyes growing wide as you register what you just said. That wasn’t planned. Carefully, you tilt your head to study his face, trying to read his expression and figure out, what he’s thinking at this exact moment.

His pupils are dilated with shock and you can practically see the gears working in his head, processing the words that hastily spilled out of your mouth. Time slows down, the room appears to be spinning wildly while your heart rides a rollercoaster into your throat and back. Stammering, spluttering, gasping for air, you try to find a meek excuse, anything to explain yourself before he rejects you, but your mind is empty. Nothing comes out.

And so, you’re doomed to watch and wait. Dead eyes of a fish, you once heard the Vice-Commander of the Shinsengumi describe his eyes, but now? Now you see so much more in them. A battle with his own demons as he scrambles to think of an appropriate reaction to your confession.

Then his features soften. Another smile traces over his lips, his gaze finally focused on you and your heart staggers again, afraid, excited, wondering what his next words might be. Suddenly, a spark of hope ignites in your chest at the tenderness etched into his expression.

“Well, I’m glad,” he speaks quietly, pulling you into his lap and simply ignoring your weak protests. His cheeks flush under your stare, hot and searing, climbs to the tips of his ears as he lets the walls he’s built so securely around his heart crumble down, piece by piece. It’s a sight to see, truly, because he’s so beautiful when he’s calm and vulnerable in the comfort of your presence alone, it makes you want to kiss him more than ever before. “Good to know that you feel the same way. Almost thought, I was a hopeless case.”

The kiss that follows his voice is languid and loving, almost hesitant until you melt into his touch and cup his cheeks to pull him impossibly closer. His lips glide over yours smoothly, soft and warm and so addicting, you can’t bring yourself to pull away. Only at the burning of your lungs from the lack of air, you break apart to catch your breaths, only to bump your noses when he leans in for a second kiss.

This time, you stop him. Your hand is splayed over his scarred chest, halting his movements momentarily because you now notice his half-lidded gaze filled with desire and weariness. He still needs to rest, even if the heat between your thighs tries to convince you to soak in his longing touches for a while longer. “You need to get some sleep, Gin.”

“I don’t need to do anything,” he grumbles and tries to stifle a yawn. “I can think of much better things than sleep.” The wiggle of his eyebrows earns an exaggerated huff from you while you lean to his ear to whisper your reply.

“Gintoki, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but if you don’t go to sleep right now, I will punch the living daylights out of you.”

Harley & Ivy

simon swore up and down he’d never want kids, he was certain he’d end up just like his old man and he would rather die than let a child grow up how he did. he tells you, “look at the state of me, yeah? not exactly father material, am i? i’m tapped in the head, ‘ts not fair to give a kid any of that.” as he taps his temple with his pointer finger.

years pass, and those words echo in your mind as he holds your chubby baby in his rough hands, one gently splayed on their soft tummy while the other supports their head. he’s gently suspending your baby in the air, mimicking helicopter noises as they squeal and giggle happily. simon has the biggest grin on his face as your 3 year old begs him to let them have a turn as a rileycopter, small hands tugging on his cargo pants with pouty lips.

not exactly father material, simon? you beg to differ.

##. MY HEART'S GOING LUB-DUB

♡ things he has said that flustered you.

♡ contents and warnings: established relationships, mentions of making out (nirei), mentions of marriage (sakura), reader’s ears are pierced in suou’s, mild, mild, possessiveness in suou's but not really 🐧

♡ characters: sakura haruka, nirei akihiko, suou hayato (x gn! reader)

Anyone who knows SAKURA HARUKA probably knows that contrary to the delinquent facade he puts up, he is actually quite innocent. A little naive, if you will, blushing at every show of romantic affection. And everyone in Boufuurin knows that’s why he’s become subject to Suou Hayato’s teasing when the brown haired boy needed a good chuckle. And of course, you, as his very lovely partner, had to also jump on the bandwagon of endearingly poking fun at your boyfriend. 

“Y’know, Haruka, you should stop me or else I’m gonna get carried away and keep teasing you even after we get married!” This was a sentence you often say for laughs after you had yet again successfully made Haruka agitated and his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red, all the way up to his ears. Granted, the first time he heard it he couldn’t look you in the eye for two whole days at the mention marriage (it’s not that he doesn’t like it, in fact it was because he likes it a little too much that he couldn’t even make eye contact without imagining you in fancy white attire). But now, he barely bats an eye at it now with how often you say it. But today, it’s evident that that particular sentence had poked at someone’s curiosity as you can sense someone staring at you as you banter with your boyfriend. 

“You know, Sakura-kun, I barely see you reacting to... that. You’re really planning to marry them in the future, huh?” Ah, it's Suou again. His soothing voice drips with mischief, the purpose of his question is obviously to tease his heterochromatic eyed peer yet again. Haruka’s features morph into one of confusion, brows furrowed as he turns to face his vice captain. 

“Hah? What are you talking about?” Haruka inquires like suou’s question is the most ridiculous question in the world. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought suou was asking him if he believed pigs could fly, or if the earth was actually a hexagon. 

(Of course, you can’t lie, suou’s question made you nervous despite how lighthearted he said it. Your self consciousness has already prepared itself for a heartbreak trip as you await your boyfriend to continue his response.)

“Why would I date someone I don’t intend on marrying?” 

Ah, now it’s your cheeks that are heating up. 

“Are you done?” The only answer SUOU HAYATO offers to your inquiry is a focused hum. His hand fumbles with the earring, his earring, as he tries to carefully slide the hook into the small hole on your right earlobe. Though, you have to say, you have nothing particular to complain about as you wait for your boyfriend to put the earring on you. After all, you’re getting the privilege of being in the front seat staring at Suou Hayato’s face as he carefully tries to put the earring on you. Lips pursed and eyes squinted a little, he looks extra handsome when he’s focused, you note. 

“Just need to secure them with the back. And... done!” he heaves out a breath as triumph takes over his features, pulling back slightly to admire his (hardly) hard work. His lips stretch into a smile, satisfied at how the red and yellow of his earring highlights your features more. 

“How does it look?” you feel quite nervous as you wait for his reply, shyly peering at him through your eyelashes. Being so close, you have the advantage of watching closely for any twitch of his features that might indicate satisfaction, dissatisfaction, anything that can indicate what kind of reaction he’s going to emit. 

You twitch slightly at the sensation of his pointer finger and middle finger grazing your chin, touch gentle as he settles them there. You swear you see something flashing in his usually gentle ruby eyes. Something akin to satisfaction, or, even, possessiveness. But you don't comment on it. He moves your head from your side to side as if to examine you thoroughly. (he quietly notes how cute you are for compliantly moving your head.) It’s only when you feel the earring faintly brushing against your right shoulder that you become hyper aware of how empty your left ear feels without an earring weighing it down. You also become hyper aware of the fact that the earring’s pair is still dangling from his left ear, eyes instinctively flitting to it. Your cheeks begin to heat up. Oh, it’s almost as if you’re wearing a couple ite-

He interrupts your thought before you can finish it.

“I quite like it, it’s pretty on you,” his voice breaks your train of thought. His smile is quite literally dripping with mischief, and now you can clearly see it. The tint of greed in his eyes is back as he moves his fingers that were formerly resting on your chin to stroke at the earring on your ear. His composed facade would have fooled you if it weren’t for the words he utters next.

“It gives off the feeling that you’re mine.” 

Oh he likes it, alright. Too much, maybe.

“Sorry. D’you need a break?” NIREI AKIHIKO’s voice is devoid of any teasing lilt, instead dripping with concern as he gazes at you through his eyelashes, eyes half lidded and cheeks flushed with a pretty tint of pink. 

It’s not the words by themselves. It’s the fact that he’s saying those words in this kind of situation. By this kind of situation, you mean with you perched up on his lap, legs splayed on either side of his thighs as he lay seated on a couch beneath you. He had uttered those exact words after what felt like 10 minutes straight of kissing

(it hadn’t even been 5 minutes, but you could barely think with how clouded your mind is). 

His question was thoroughly leaking with worry, caramel orbs boring through you as he awaits your reply. You wanted to say yes, hell, your lungs were begging you to say yes as they heaved desperately yes. You have to give your boyfriend credit, though. Sweet like always, he had noticed he had gone a little too far when he felt your lips part with breathless whines on his, and had asked if you needed a time out. Though, you don’t think he’s aware of how his voice shakes with want, or how his fingers that are resting on your hips squeezed hard like he was trying to ground himself, or how his eyes are swirling with something akin to need.

(or how he barely sounded apologetic when he apologized, and you suspect it’s because his pride soars with the knowledge that he’s the one making you breathless.)

“No,” you’re surprised at how hoarse your voice sounds, though, that is to be expected after you quite literally just had your breath taken away. Your thumb reaches out to swipe at his quivering bottom lip, gleaming with saliva and a little swollen from pressing against yours repeatedly. He leans into your touch, and you gulp away the feeling of your tugging heartstrings. “Keep kissing me, lover boy.” 

And as he lurches forward to clash your lips together again, the last thought that etches on your mind was that he really should put this on his resume: Nirei Akihiko, 16, not good at fighting (yet), hella good at kissing.