#again. why is my hair always so frizzy

[boyapologist]

I've had enough of this bullshit I'm cutting my hair off again

[pellowinksx]

Where I was, what happened, and why I'm back so soon. My most personal manifestation and mistakes that should never be made again. (a success story) My biggest ever insecurity was my hair. I had midlength, frizzy, weird curls that would never define no matter what. It looked like a matted rat almost I hated it. Even after learning the law and manifesting other stuff, my body, face, anything. I just COULDN'T get my hair to change. I was always so aware of it I could always feel it. I could always see it in my silhouette. So the 3D was smacking me in the face again and again. I had been trying to change my hair to better defined curls for a year. Yes, a year. Even me who has helped so many of you with my blog. It took me a year to manifest. What I did and the mistakes I made; I did robotic affirmations just like I manifested everything else. But it still, didn't work. No matter what I did. I was in a spiral, I tested my abilities and I manifested so many other things but I just couldn't change my hair no matter what I did. Until literally 20 hours ago I posted,

Telling you guys that I would be taking a short break from posting and I would come back after manifesting something. I had expected it to take around a week or two for me to lock in, but no. It took only 22 hours. What did I do? I locked in. I read success stories that MY OWN followers sent me. I had kept repeating to myself "ignore and affirm, ignore and affirm," And then I finally identified what was wrong. You know the saying that's like "when you can write down a problem, you already solved it halfway" well that's kind of what it was like for me.

I did psych-k and I asked myself "there are 2 reasons why I don't have my desired hair" I did the pull test and it was correct. I had 2 things I needed to fix. Then it just came to me, I said "one reason is because I just acknowledged I don't have it" did the pull test, it was correct. then, next I said "the next reason is because I would search for an answer" did the pull test, and It was correct. So my mistake, was questioning. Even if it was only in my actions and not my words. And my next mistake was kind of knowing that I didn't have it. I locked in after that. I chose a very simple affirmation "I have jet black long curls" It wasn't that specific but my desire was long wavy/ish defined jet black hair that went down to my butt. And before you say "but pink didn't you already say you manifested long hair?" I did. And I lied. That was an affirmation. I was pretending to "act as if" when I wrote that. That was my wrong-doing, but please be assured I haven't lied about anything else. Anyways- So I affirmed all day and I kept doing the pull test "I have jet black curls, I have jet black long curls" and every-time I pulled my interlocked fingers it assured me "yes, you have it" So then I went to sleep the next day. I didn't wake up with it this morning until I had an epiphany. The law. Is instant. No matter what you see. Your subconscious assumes after ONE affirmation. I told myself "I have assumed my desire" over and over this morning. Until around an hour ago I passed the mirror without looking at it. But in my peripheral vision I saw a long black **thing** flowing around while I was walking. I stopped in my tracks and turned around. Lo and behold I had my desired hair. I was just staring and staring at it. I finally ran my fingers through my long curls, in shock and awe. And the best part is? I REVISED it. My mom asked me why I kept looking at my hair like that, and she was like "It looks extra nice today" not even questioning why or how it grew like 20 inches in a day. My advice and a specific list of what I did.

Do not question where it is. Do not affirm "I have it" and then ask a blogger "where is it?" Do not acknowledge you don't have it. Don't affirm "I have it" and then be like "yeah I don't actually have xyz" How I fixed it and my new perception of the law:

thing 1. Your subconscious can get confused, it can assume but not understand why you just said you don't have it. That's not a punishment, you're just not letting the law work. How to fix this: Affirm and don't contradict. Don't contradict in your actions. Don't ask a blogger where it is, or vent to an open ai (what I did lmao) If you ever feel a thought about it not being in your favor, just tell yourself "it has confirmed already" and try ignoring it for the rest of the day.

Thing 2. The seed gets planted immediately. "I have thing" Your subconicous immediately accepts it and makes space for you to have thing. Then what? Affirm or go about your day. Accept that thing is already yours now. Even if you don't feel like it, just tell yourself "it has confirmed" or "it will confirm"

Thing 3. You do not need to affirm so many times. I know my thing is robotic affirmations and saturation but honestly...Its already done. The reason why I think robotic affirming is so affective is because after you affirm once BOOM your subconicous is like "YES WE HAVE THING! NOW LET ME JUST MAKE SPACE FOR IT" but if you keep affirming again, and again, and again and leave no choice for doubts to arise, your subconicous will literally purge your desires. Its almost like you've overstimulated it.

Don't make my mistakes. Now, How do we manifest literally anything we want? Its not "affirm and persist in affirmation until you see it" for me anymore. Its "affirm a little, remind, and stop asking" What do I mean by that? Affirm once or twice honestly. And then remind yourself "it has confirmed already" And then don't ask where it is anymore. you affirm its not here or if you ask anyone, just don't validate the old story. Don't make my mistakes. This was my biggest manifestation ever. Bigger than my parents becoming millionaires or me being popular among my friends. If you have a manifestation so important to you or you're trying to get rid of an insecurity, just try very hard to trust yourself and trust the law. Because your subconicous has already assumed just let it do its thing in the meantime. Thank you for reading if you've got this far, ciao my loves ✨

[asoftsighh]

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ eddie munson x fem!reader ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

eddie, your best friend, picks you up from work and then kisses you

1.2k words

a/n: this is kind of a shy!reader but not really🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

By the time the end of your shift rolls around, you’re practically falling asleep on your feet. Hours of waiting tables and running back and forth to the kitchen is exhausting. Your apron is tied too tight and you’re pretty sure that you have blisters from your shoes.

The good thing, when you step outside into the chilly night, is that Eddie is waiting in the parking lot. You shuffle towards his beat up van, wrapping your jacket tighter around yourself. Whether to hide your somewhat embarrassing uniform or to fight off the cold, you’re unsure. It’s not like he hasn’t seen this outfit before, its stripes and all. 

You reach the passenger door, tugging it open, and something that sounds like Metallica spills out. He looks at you like you’re a cold, wet, stray puppy. 

“Hi, gorgeous,” he says, smiling brightly, like you’re just the thing he was hoping to see. You look him over as you sit down, putting your bag on the floor by your feet. His hair looks somewhat tame tonight, it’s curly, frizzy strands thrown over his shoulder. 

You give him a small smile. “Hi, Eddie. Thanks for picking me up.”

He’s picked after every one of your shifts the past two weeks, ever since he found out that you’ve been walking home every night. When you had mentioned that to him, offhandedly, he looked as if you had three heads. 

He waves a ringed hand at you, brushing off your gratitude. You thank him every time, and everytime he ignores it. “Don’t thank me. We can’t have you walking home at night looking like that.” He gives you a look as he puts the van in drive, pulling out of his spot.

You look down at yourself. Your uniform is far from scandalous, with its loose shirt and skirt that ends right above your knees. It’s hard to tell when Eddie is just messing with you, with his constant flirting and teasing. 

“What’s wrong with my uniform?” 

He laughs, loud and sudden. “I didn’t mean your uniform, babe. I meant… your face.”

You blink in surprise, looking out the front windshield, not wanting him to see the blush creeping up on your cheeks. It’d just make it worse, you think, to watch the muscles of his arms flex as he turns out of the parking lot, to watch his side profile. 

“My face?” Your voice is quiet. You’ve been friends with Eddie for a long time, but somehow, he is always able to pull the shy side of you back out from where you’ve hidden it. 

Eddie is quiet for a moment as you watch the road go by. There aren’t nearly as many cars out at this time as Eddie cruises down the road. 

He clears his throat. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just...” He glances over at you quickly, then back at the road. “You’re pretty. That’s all.”

You’re grateful that it’s nighttime so he doesn’t see the deeper flush covering your face and down your neck. You press your cold hand to your cheek, praying he doesn’t look over. You can feel your pulse beating in your throat, pounding hard. 

He clears his throat, changing the conversation, most likely for your sake. 

“So,” he starts, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the song playing softly. “How was work? Any creeps this time? I’ll throw hands.”

You huff out a small laugh, pulling your hand from your cheek and letting it fall into your lap. “Not tonight. Some kid spilled soda all over my shoes and I had to rinse them in the sink.” Your still damp, pathetic looking converse squish as you flex your toes. 

He snorts. “Remind me again why you have this job?”

He turns down your street, headlights illuminating the street sign,  as you say, “I need money for my books and clothes and stuff. And for whenever me and you get food or go to the record store.”

He doesn’t reply right away, too focused on parking along the curb in front of your house. The outdoor light is on just for you. 

You unbuckle but don’t immediately get out. You turn in your seat a little, looking over at him. He’s already watching you, in that soft way of his, where his eyes somehow become even rounder. 

“Thank you, again. Really.”

He shakes his head, chunks of hair falling in front of his face. He pushes it back with little care. “Stop thanking me or I’ll feel more like a chauffeur than your best friend.”

Best friend. The word echoes through your chest. Does he treat all of his best friends like this, you wonder. Calls them babe and pretty girl, braids their hair to ‘practice’, picks them up from their shifts even though it’s only out of the way for him?

You laugh quietly, but it sounds slightly sad and pathetic. “I’m serious. I don’t want to be a burden.”

He looks truly baffled, his eyebrows raising. He shifts in his seat too, mirroring you. “What? This is the best part of my day.”

Your breath hitches. Eddie isn’t one to be shy with his love and appreciation. He’s all for compliments and thanks whenever he can give them. But, he’s never sounded this… vulnerable. Open. 

You swallow thickly. “Eddie..”

He reaches out, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone tentatively. “Can I…” You watch his Adam's apple bob. “Would it be totally crazy if I kissed you?”

Your eyes widen, your palms dampening with sweat. You must nod or answer, because he leans in slowly, giving you time to change your mind. Instead, grasping every ounce of confidence within you, you close the gap. 

His lips are soft, albeit a bit chapped. But, the warmth of him spreads through your whole body, all the way to your toes in your damp shoes. His hand now cups your cheek, holding you to him as if you’d ever move away right now. 

He pulls away slowly and you flutter your eyelashes open. You don’t even remember closing them. 

He smiles at you widely, something you quickly reciprocate. You study his dimples under the light from the nearby streetlight, how his eyelashes naturally curl beneath his brows. Pretty.

“Well,” you say, still with that broad smile pulling at your lips and flushed cheeks. “Goodnight Eddie.” Your hand, which you realize now is trembling, fumbles with the car door twice until you manage to push it open. 

He says his goodnight right before you close the car door behind you, your bag slung over your arm. You walk across your lawn to your front door, unlocking it. Before you step inside, you look over your shoulder at Eddie, who still sits parked at the curb. 

He’s watching you, elbow propped up on the console, chin on his closed fist. From here, you can just make out his lips parting, like he wants to yell something out the open window, but he’s unsure what. 

His curls halo around his unreadable, but soft expression. 

You lift your hand in a small wave, holding back the giddy grin that threatens to take over your whole face. Instead, you watch as he mirrors your wave. You turn around, ducking inside and closing the door behind you, listening as his van drives away. 

You lean back against the front door, finally letting out a sound that resembles a squeal, touching your lips with your fingertips. 

They are still tingling. Still warm. 

criticism is welcome as long as it’s kind ✮⋆˙

i’m very new to writing ✮⋆˙

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 10

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content (smut) Wordcount: 7.3K A/C: here we go you freaks (happy game day)

-

Before London

“Whaddup bro?”

“Hi- uh, why are you talking like that?” I ask, holding up the phone to see the familiar and comforting face of my brother, Kiran. 

“Whassup fam,” he grins in a horrible American accent, smirking smugly at his own joke. “I’m American now,” he laughs, forcing me to roll my eyes - nothing new.

“Quit. Please,” I groan, rubbing the bridge of my nose. A habit I had picked up from Paige, who did it every time she was getting fed up. 

“C’mon man, you’re no fun,” Kiran chuckles. “I’m trying to practice.”

“Practice for what?” I ask, confused. Kiran’s wide smile, almost identical to mine, is growing even bigger, revealing a row of straight white teeth.

“For when I’m flying over.”

I gasp, trying to look for any hint of a cruel joke or a prank on my brother’s face. He’s dead serious. 

“You got off work??” I ask in shock. Kiran nods, smiling excitedly, making me squeal. 

“Promise me you’re not joking!” I laugh, nearly jumping up and down with excitement. I had missed my baby brother so badly. I felt obnoxious with the way I was constantly speaking about him to everyone, to Trey, to Paige, to my other co-workers. But now, in only a matter of weeks, I would be able to see him face to face. Finally.

“I promise Izzie,” Kiran smiles. The only people in the world that called me Izzie were childhood friends, my family, and I suppose Paige.

I hadn’t told my brother about Paige, or what was going on between us. Whenever he brought the particular blonde up I just swiftly changed the topic of conversation, always hoping he wouldn’t notice the blush on my cheeks, the way the corners of my mouth twisted into a grin. And as observant and caring as my brother was, he was still a man. So of course he didn’t notice. 

“Oh my Gosh!! When?” I ask, my voice rising an octave as it always did when I felt excited.

“In a couple weeks. I’ll be there for the Storms game, can you get me tickets? Please?”

I chuckle nodding. “Of course Kiran.”

A devilish grin spreads across his lips as he falls into thought. “Can’t believe I’m gonna get to see Paige Bueckers. Phew.”

My face turns red, whether with annoyance, jealousy or disgust I’m not sure. I roll my green eyes again, scoffing. “She’s gay. Leave that poor girl alone.”

“You don’t know if she is.”

If he only knew.

“She’s gay, and you’re not about to embarrass me,” I say sternly.

Kiran groans, throwing his head back. “Speaking of embarrassment, bumped into Jasper the other day.”

My jaw clenches just hearing his name, immediate frustration growing inside me.

“God, what an asshole. What were you thinking getting engaged to that knob?”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “I wasn’t, pretty sure mom was thinking for me.”

“When is she not,” Kiran sighs when I hear a stern knock on my door. Strange, I wasn’t expecting anyone. The knock repeats, now louder and more desperate.

“Who is that?” My brother asks on the phone as I walk to the front door and look through the peephole. There she stands, 6 feet tall, rocking back and forth in a hoodie and basketball shorts, her blonde hair in a ponytail. Immediate butterflies release in my abdomen, fluttering everywhere making me feel giddy and warm.

“Uhh, I have to go. Let’s talk more tomorrow, yeah?” I say into the phone and hang up before my brother can even reply, opening the door for Paige.

The moment she sees me her mouth stretches into a charming smile, looking me up and down. I’m wearing white linen shorts and a matching button down, Paige’s eyes lingering on the bare skin of my thighs, my collarbone and right shoulder bare due to the lazy manner in which I had buttoned the shirt on my day off. The Dallas heat had forced me to adapt, to stop styling my hair since it would grow frizzy throughout the day, so I let it grow unruly (for my standards), allowing my natural waves to come through.

“Hey,” I hum, leaning against the doorway waiting to see what the blonde might need.

“Whatchu up to?” She asks with urgency.

“Nothing.”

“I’m boreeeeeed,” the younger girl whines, throwing her head back theatrically. “Let’s go on a road trip.”

I chuckle affectionately at her insane idea. “Paige I have work tomorrow love.”

The blonde’s blue eyes land on mine, making my heart skip a beat. “Iz I’m serious, I’m so bored I might die. Let’s go see the Big Bend.”

“Someone’s a little dramatic today.”

“Come with me. I’ll get you snacks,” Paige pleads, grabbing my smaller hand into hers, jolts rushing all throughout my body.

“Paige,” I warn her. “I have work tomorrow. Early. That’s like an eight hour drive.”

“Fine, somewhere else then. We’ll be back by… uh…” Paige checks her phone for the time. It’s three in the afternoon. “By nine. Or ten.”

“Paige!” I groan pulling my hand away. “We won’t even make it out of town. It makes no sense. Texas is too big. Maybe we can plan something for next week or something.”

Honestly, what stressed me out the most was that we hadn’t planned this.. That I had no idea what would happen, where we would even go. I was a planner. No discussion about it. I had always hated everything spontaneous, everything unsensible.

“Izzie, c’mon, trust me,” Paige’s voice softens, blue eyes sparkling in the afternoon sun like the surface of the ocean, lower lip pouting just a little. Something about her made me unsensible, made me want to do things that I knew weren’t smart, that made no sense. It was almost too easy for her to convince me.

“Please mama,” she coos almost silently and I nearly fall to my knees. No, not almost - it absolutely was far too easy for her to get me to cave.

“Where are we going? Do I need to pack? What do I need with me?”

Paige’s mouth twists into a glorious, winner’s smile. “Just bring a sweater it might get cold later, I’mma get us snacks on the way,” the girl says turning around. “I’ll meet you in the car!”

“Paige!” I yell after the blonde girl, making her stop in her tracks.

“What mama?”

“Back by ten okay?”

She smiles reassuringly. “I promise Iz.”

-

The soft hum of Paige’s Jeep is overtaken by the sound of r&b as we speed up on the highway, the blonde next to me singing quietly to herself. There was something exciting about the fact that neither of us knew where we were heading, just driving aimlessly towards the horizon, continuing as far as eyes could see. I pop another sour skittle into my mouth from the bag on my lap, Paige mindlessly reaching to my lap and doing the same, our fingers gracing as they touch. I immediately blush, chills running up my body just from the sheer momentary touch. 

“My bad,” Paige chuckles, her voice a little shaky as she pulls her hand back. I giggle and grab some of the skittles, offering them to the blonde. Instead of grabbing them, the girl opens her mouth. I hesitate for a second, but feed them to her, one by one, my finger brushing against her lip. I watch as she grins, lost in the memory of how she kissed me. The weight of her mouth on mine. I’d be lying if I didn’t miss it.

“You hot?”

“Huh?” I ask, feeling the heat rise from my abdomen up my neck to my cheeks.

“Your face is red as hell,” Paige laughs, glancing at me. Embarrassed, I cover my face, knowing the reason deep down wasn’t the heat. No, it was the way I had been eyeing Paige’s tan hand wrapped around the wheel, the other resting on her lap on her Louis Vuitton basketball shorts, veins popping and prominent, fingers looking long and strong. It was something about the humid heat, and the excitement of our little spontaneous getaway that had the butterflies in my stomach fluttering. 

“Whatchu hiding for?” She laughs, pulling my hand off my face.

“I must look ridiculous,” I groan, letting Paige’s big hand wrap around my dainty wrist with ease.

“You look cute when you get red like that,” the blonde murmurs, smiling to herself. I watch closely as she lowers both windows on her and my side to allow the breeze to come in and cool us down.

“Wait!! My hair!” I complain, quickly beginning to put the window back up. Paige pulls my hand away again, shaking her head. With the wind rushing in and cars speeding past, Paige has to yell over the noise.

“C’mon Iz just chill for one day,” she laughs. “You always look fine as hell. Let your hair down for once.”

With a sly smile I Ieave the window open, leaning towards the breeze and breathing it in. The wind plays in my hair, dark strands dancing wildly as we speed across the highway. The blonde girl beside me can’t keep her eyes on the road, blue eyes gazing at me with an affectionate smile. Ease begins to take over me, my never quiet mind finally beginning to slow down. A calm I hadn’t felt for years warms my chest, spreading across my body. It’s everything - the breeze in my hair, the smell of Paige lingering in the car, sandalwood and deodorant, her favourite songs playing, her presence beside me, the comforting certainty that no matter what I have a friend. Suddenly the car jerks, nearly swerving off the lane.

“Paige!” I gasp, snapping my hair towards her. A laugh spills from my mouth with ease. 

“Shit, my bad,” the girl chuckles, her eyes snapping back onto the road. “You in a good mood huh?”

I nod, leaning my head against the seat and gazing into her gorgeous, tanned face. “Yeah, my brother called. He’s flying to Dallas in a couple weeks.”

“Kiran?”

She remembered my brother's name? I had mentioned him by name maybe once. A little shocked, I nod. “Yeah, Kiran.”

The blonde smiles, veiny hands holding the wheel a little lazily. “That’s awesome, am I gonna meet him?”

“I don’t know, I mean he wants to come to a game.”

“Yeah, I wanna meet him for sure,” Paige murmurs. “You two similar?”

I chuckle, nodding. “He is also a big list maker, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I love your little lists.”

I feel my heart swell, butterflies fluttering deep in my abdomen. I’m distracted though by What You Heard by Sonder beginning to play. Paige is caught off guard too, memories of that night at Lala’s and Arike’s flashing back apparent on both our faces. Her grip tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. But she lets it play, licking her plump lower lip as her face turns redder and redder.

“A lot of people find my list making annoying,” I mumble, remembering Jasper and the way he rolled his eyes whenever I took out my notebook and pen. 

“That’s crazy. I love that about you,” Paige answers mindlessly. I look at the girl for a while, finally realising I had never felt so easily accepted by someone, just as I am. I could be myself, I could be uptight and high strung, I could have my hair undone and be overwhelmed and she still accepted me. All of me. It was strange, new, safe.

“Paige?” I ask, my voice softening. She lowers the volume of the song and glances at me.

“Yeah Iz?”

I sigh softly, watching the blonde. “Thank you for being such a good friend.”

The genuineness and vulnerability in my voice make Paige’s cheeks flush red. I notice a slight quiver of her lower lip. 

The girl clears her throat, opening her mouth to speak and then thinking for a moment. “I thought I’d hate it in Dallas. Like I’d never get used to it, you know?”

I know. So I nod.

“But then I met you Iz, and you changed my mind about everything. The entire place.”

Her voice is soft and careful, even nervous. I watch as her right hand moves off her lap, inching to the center console and turning her palm upwards, knowing exactly what she meant. I’ve grown weak over the time I’ve known her, Paige’s gentle tone enough to make me fold. It wasn’t harmful, it wouldn’t lead to anything. So I reach over and place my hand on hers. Paige’s fingers lace perfectly with mine, the heat of her skin spreading like a careful, tender spark, tingling up my arm.

Paige takes a deep breath, the sound growing heavier and heavier as a response to the simple touch. “I don’t know Iz, the couple weeks we didn’t talk were hell. You’re the one thing that makes this place feel like home.”

-

It’s killing me. The way we’ve been holding hands for the past hours, just talking about everything. Our childhoods, our families, our first impressions of each other. Each time I had to pull my hand away the moment it returned to the center console Iz grabbed it quickly, as if eager to feel the warmth of my touch. I knew this was nearly crossing the line, but I could keep my emotions in control. I knew I could. I knew I could. After all, friends held hands all the time.

The smell of her perfume—pear and jasmine—was making me dizzy. Staring at the road became increasingly hard the further we drove, it becoming far too tempting to turn my eyes to the beautiful dark haired girl beside me.The sun begins to disappear behind a veil of dark clouds that roll in, a few drops of rain hitting the windshield of my jeep.

“Those clouds look dark,” Izzie murmurs, checking the time. It was early evening, our aimless drive having lasted for nearly four hours now. “Where even are we?”

I look around, watching the buildings around us. Must be some sort of nearby city. “I guess we oughta turn back,” I say, as the rain grows stronger, forcing me to turn on the windshield wipers.

Izzie looks around nervously, the drumming on the car roof becoming louder. Just as she opens her mouth, a downpour hammers down from the sky, streetlights blurring into golden smudges in the horizon. The windshield wipers struggle, not doing enough even on the fastest setting, making it impossible to see.

“Uh oh,” Izzie murmurs, chewing on her lower lips as her tension grows.

“Nahh, don’t worry. It’s gon pass soon,” I comfort the girl, reaching over to allow my fingertips to graze against her warm thigh gently. Her skin’s soft, goosebumps forming right underneath my touch. I pull the car over on the side of the street, watching as the people of the city scurry to hide from the storm underneath storefront canopies, rainwater pooling along the curb.

We wait—10 minutes, 15, half an hour. Nothing changes, everytime we think it’s about to pass, the downpour only grows louder. Nervously, I tap on the radio and turn the volume up, listening for any reports on the rain. Like clockwork, the radio program is interrupted.

“We interrupt this radio program for a weather warning. There is severe rainfall expected in the area, causing potentially dangerous driving conditions. We heavily encourage everyone to avoid driving until the following morning.”

The silence between me and Iz is deafening, the tension in the car rising abruptly. I could sense her anxiety bubbling right underneath her skin.

“Shit,” I murmur, sighing as I look at the girl next to me, staring blankly at the city. Then, she finally sighs and buries her face into her hands.

“I am so fucked,” she groans, chest heaving with stress. “What are we going to do Paige?”

“Hey,” I murmur and unbuckle my seatbelt to reach over the center console. My hand rubs Izzie’s back soothingly through the thin fabric of her linen button down. “I’mma figure it out, okay ma? I’ll find a hotel for us.”

“No, I got work tomorrow! I can’t just stay here!” Izzie groans. I knew this was her worst nightmare coming to life. For once I got her to be spontaneous, to let her guard down, and this happens. She’ll never let me take her anywhere anymore.

“Iz, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out. I can call someone up and tell em you can’t make it tomorrow.”

“No, you can’t call Linda. She can’t know you’re with me.”

“Okay, then you’ll call her up, just tell her you’re sick or sumn,” I say, trying desperately to find a solution. I never wanted to see her upset or stressed and couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt over the situation, despite it being out of my control.

Izara sighs, lifting her gaze from the palms of her hands. “What if she fires me?”

“Over one day off?” I laugh, but from Izzie’s face I can tell she doesn’t find it as amusing as I do. So I quickly straighten my face. “She won’t. Trust mama, you can take one day off.”

the dark haired girl sighs and looks at me, arched brows furrowed with worry. Without much thought I raise my hand to her cheek, stroking the skin with my thumb. She leans into my touch, exhaling shakily.

“I promise, Iz.”

-

The hotel room is much smaller than I’d hoped, the air smelling stale, the dust floating around making Izzie sneeze as she enters.

“Bless you,” I mumble, lowering the bag of toiletries we had bought in a momentary panic onto a single wooden desk. I look around at the faded yellow curtains and the double bed barely fitting in the room, white sheets covering it neatly. Iz leans down and smells the fabric, pausing for a moment.

“At least I think they’ve been washed,” she groans, taking her sandals of and flopping into the bed. I felt a little embarrassed not having found anything better for her. She deserved the world, if only I could give it to her.. Not this musty hotel room with a bed that would just about fit both of us for the night. I swear it was the only room left in the entire town.

“Iz I’m sorry I couldn-”

“Nonsense,” she stops me middle of the sentence with a simple raise of her hand, closing her eyes and rubbing her stomach. “I’m just happy to be in a bed after that meal.”

"You didn’t even eat that much," I scoff, walking over to the bed and flopping beside her.

"Yeah, how does one eat three double cheeseburgers?" She asks, amusement flickering in her eyes.

My mouth falls open in mock offense. “I’m an athlete, and tall, I gotta eat to keep these muscles.” I flex my arms, Izzie’s green eyes watching my bicep, a momentary flash of hungriness in her eyes before they snap to the ceiling.

“I don’t believe you haven’t had McDonald’s in like 10 years,” I mumble.

Izzie laughs. “My parents hated McDonald’s.”

“Your parents strict?” I ask. The girl chuckles and nods.

“Very. But it comes from a loving place. They just… always think they know what’s best for you, even better than you do,” Iz explains. “My mom’s still trying to get me to get back with Jasper.”

“Never get back together with that asshole,” I murmur, feeling protective over what she had told me back in Chicago.

“Trust me, I will not,” she says certainly, shifting a little. Our arms press together, tingling with electricity. My heart thrums in my chest as silence settles between us, the beating of my heart the only sound in my ears. My entire body buzzes as I come to the realisation that we’d be spending the night here, sharing a bed, the tight space forcing us to stay close. A month ago the idea of this would’ve driven me insane. But I knew now losing our friendship was much worse than losing the opportunity of having her body. I’d much rather bury my wildest thoughts deep inside and never let them show. Never let Izara see how badly my body ached for her, how she was the only thing in my mind every time I brought a girl home, how I closed my eyes and imagined their gasps and whimpers were her’s. She never had to know. As long as she was my friend I could live.

Yet I can’t help it when my middle finger jerks towards the soft skin of her hand, brushing against it gently. I feel the girl’s hand press closer to mine, her pinky mirroring my movements in soothing strokes. I swallow loudly, praying to God Izzie can’t hear the pounding of my heart the way I can as I gather my courage, carefully entangling my fingers with hers. 

I hear the way the dark haired girl’s breath hitches in her throat in response to my touch. We lie there for a while, side by side, staring at the ceiling, holding hands. The dust settling in the air made me want to cough, but I was afraid it might ruin the moment, or disturb Izzie, making her pull back. I want to turn my head to see the girl’s face. To try to read her mind, to figure out what she was thinking.

But then I feel her leg moving on the mattress, bare silky skin of her calf pressing into mine. My eyes flutter shut as I inch closer, feeling her leg wrap around mine, our feet touching. My mouth parts to gulp air in an attempt to calm down. It doesn’t work, my ears and face turning hot. 

“Paige?”

Izzie’s voice is trembling when it cuts through the silence. I try to gather myself enough to speak, her proximity driving me insane.

“Yeah?” I whisper, my voice weak and hoarse. The stretched out silence after only makes my heart beat faster, mind spin even more as I wait for the girl to answer.

“I’m gonna get in the shower.”

Suddenly Izzie is getting up, leg and hand untangling with mine as she disappears into the bathroom, leaving only the faint smell of pear and jasmine.

-

Pull yourself together. You’re a grown woman. You need to stop playing this cat and mouse game with this poor girl. It’s all I can tell myself as I stare into the mirror, my own reflection staring back at me. I tighten the white towel wrapped around my torso, splashing cold water onto my face. Letting my hair down from a clip, I allow it to fall over my shoulders, trying to clear my mind of Paige. But it killed me, knowing she was right outside that door, lying in bed in her sports bra and basketball shorts, waiting.

I pull my white linen set back on, rubbing at my stiff shoulders from the long drive and the turmoil in my mind. I felt like I was in a fight with myself, constantly debating between what made sense and what I really wanted. Honestly, the entire time I had known Paige it felt like that. Like I couldn’t come to an agreement with myself.

Stepping out of the bathroom I find the blonde slouching on the bed, flipping through TV channels and snacking on Tru Fru. Her gaze quickly lifts to me, lingering on my face. Still, I don’t think twice about not having make up on. Something about Paige made me feel confident in myself. Like I didn’t have to control the way she viewed me 24/7.

“Shower’s good,” I mumble, sitting on the edge of the bed. Paige throws the remote onto the blanket and sighs. 

“They don’t got any good channels,” she groans, pouting as the laugh track of whatever sitcom echoes through the tiny room. I chuckle, rubbing the muscles on my shoulder absentmindedly to ease the tension. Paige sits up, worried.

“Your shoulders hurt?” She asks. I nod with a low chuckle.

“When do they not.”

“Lie down,” the blonde commands carefully, patting the bed. I shake my head.

“No it’s okay love,” I murmur.

Paige pats the bed again. “C’mon Iz, let me help.”

I can’t resist the neediness of her voice, let alone the desperate look in her eye. If she only knew how wrapped around her finger I already was, despite acting like I would never be. So I lie down flat on my stomach, letting my shorts hike up to my upper thigh.

The blonde climbs on top of me, careful not to put all her weight on me as her fingers brush my dark, thick hair aside. Immediate goosebumps rise to my skin as she touches my neck.

“You wanna take this off ma?” She whispers carefully, tugging on my button down. I know she’s right, yet something about how intimate it felt makes my head spin. Wordlessly, with a shaky hand, I unbutton the shirt, each button a struggle. Paige helps me, pulling it off my body once it’s undone, leaving me only in a black lacy bra and the hiked up shorts. My heart pounds too loudly to hear Paige’s breathing growing heavier.

Gently, the girl's fingers dig into my muscles, starting off slow and gentle. Massaging away knots by my shoulder blades. Her hands work skillfully, increasing pressure before I could ask, like she knew exactly what I needed. I grow more and more relaxed, becoming unaware of the soft sighs spilling from my lips. Paige’s hands travel downwards, onto my lower back, big hands wrapping around my sides and kneading the muscles. I bite my lower lip trying not to moan, feeling myself growing wet at how perfectly my body fit into her skillful hands.

“Is this good?” Paige whispers, the sitcom still murmuring in the background. I barely hear it though, too ecstatic to be aware of anything but how good this feels.

“So good,” I coo softly, letting the blonde’s hands work my back. She hisses, clearly pleased with the praise.

“You need to learn to relax ma,” she sighs, her fingertips carefully sliding beneath the strap of my bra to massage there. “Told you I could get you to relax.”

“Feel so relaxed,” I murmur half asleep. “You’re so good.”

The blonde groans, but I don’t hear it, my eyes growing heavy as my body melts underneath Paige. I lose awareness of everything around me, drifting into a restful sleep.

-

I lie next to the sleeping girl, lazily stroking her back, my hand tracing along her spine as the sitcom grows more interesting the longer I watch. I couldn’t bring myself to wake Izzie, so after she fell asleep, I turned off the lights and tucked her in, though the blankets were hardly necessary in the heat of Dallas.

I glance down at Iz, her mouth slightly parted, heavy breathing turning into quiet snores at times, long dark eyelashes resting against her cheeks as her face pressed into the pillow. She had never looked so beautiful, her guard fully down, the arch of her brows softened in her sleep. 

I inch lower on the bed, turning to my side, blue eyes roaming her face. Her sharp nose, plump lips, round chin. Her skin that had gotten darker in the sun, making her even more gorgeous than before if possible. I was utterly, completely obsessed with everything about her. If she only knew. She’s perfect.

I lift my hand off her body, careful not to disturb her. She stirs slightly, a contented hum escaping from her lips. Izzie’s brows furrow the slightest bit, as she lets out a barely audible moan. Her lips part further in a quiet whimper as she stirs yet again, legs shifting underneath the blanket.

I watch closely, concerned, considering waking her up. Maybe she’s having a nightmare. As I’m about to place my hand on her arm I hear it. My name. Or I think I do.

“Paige…” she murmurs against her arm, shifting a little yet again. The sleeping girl moans again, now the sound much clearer. “Paige…”

My heart nearly stops, breath hitching in my throat as I realize she’s not just stirring—she’s pressing her thighs together under the blanket. She's not having a nightmare, no, not at all.

My breathing grows heavy as I watch the girl’s cheeks flush red in the dim light coming in through the window, Izzie’s mouth falls open as she lets out a soft whimper, flipping onto her back sleepily. My need to touch her that had been killing me all day suddenly grows large enough to make me groan, my hand coming to rub my face as if to distract from my thoughts. It doesn’t help that as she flips over her full, round breasts are on display, sitting pretty in the black lace bra.

Suddenly the girl stirs again and her eyes flutter open, too quickly for me to turn away. 

“P-Paige?” she whispers with a shaky voice before turning her head to me, just inches from mine.

“I’m right here ma,” I mumble, feeling my boxers growing wet.

Her tired green eyes find mine, a shaky breath spilling from between her lips. My tongue darts out to wet my lower lip, eyes fluttering all over her flushed face. “You fell asleep,” I coo.

Izara’s eyes are locked into my own, as she comes out of her tired confusion. “I…” She murmurs, her long lashes fluttering against her cheek. Then, her hand comes to my face, brushing off a strand of hair, touch tickling on my skin. And I can’t take it anymore.

I lean over and my lips press into hers, mouth opening in desperation. Izara’s mouth parts as quickly as mine, both of us moaning as our lips glide together, swollen and slick. I feel breathless, pulling back to catch my breath but Izzie’s hands are already pulling me back in, a hopeless whine coming out of the girl.

“Please don’t stop,” she whimpers, making my mind spin. My perfect girl, who I had been aching for since I met her, begging me not to stop. 

“Won’t ever stop unless you want me to,” I groan into her mouth, tongue clashing into hers. There’s a struggle for dominance, which she quickly gives up when my hand lands on the warm skin of her waist, squeezing.

I’m taken by surprise when Izara pushes me to my back, climbing on top of me without ever breaking the kiss. I moan embarrassingly loud, my hands roaming up and down her back, toying with her bra clasp.

“Let me take it off, please Iz,” I murmur against her lips. I had been imagining what she looked like completely topless since the moment I met her. I needed to see her, now. 

Izzie chuckles gently and sits up on top of me, pulling away from the kiss making me wince. 

“Then take it off,” she says, gazing down at me. I look up at her in desperation, shaky hands working the clasp until it pops open. The straps fall off her shoulders, and gently I pull the bra off, revealing her perfect, round breasts, groaning loudly at the sight.

“Oh shit,” I moan, watching the way her puffy nipples harden as I touch her side. My hand travels to the back of her head, and I pull the girl down, kissing her neck desperately.

“Paige…” Iz murmurs, grinding her hips into mine. My nose nuzzles into her ear, kissing it sloppily before returning to her neck, careful not to leave marks.

“Say that shit again,” I whimper. “Say my name.”

“Paige,” Izzie moans. My hands on the girl's waist maneuver her so I’m face to face with her breasts, mouth wide open as I kiss them. The moment I latch onto her nipple, a loud gasp escapes her lips. “Oh fuck.”

“Perfect tits, all for me,” I mumble, tongue circling her hardened nipple before sucking. Izara whimpers again, body yielding to me. Tenderly, I flip her onto her back, leaving a small red mark on her left breast, fitting into my large hand perfectly.

Izzie arches her back as I pull back to really look at her, to take in the moment that I’d been dying for. My chest heaves, my mind struggling to wrap around what was happening. I didn't dare to miss a moment, a twitch of a muscle, a single soft sigh. I needed to savour all of it. I run my hand from the girl’s face downwards, gently caressing her breast and ribs and lower stomach, eyes blown black with lust.

“Paige,” Izzie hums, eyes fluttering open. Her pupils are barely green anymore, filled with need and desperation.

“Iz,” I whisper, leaning down to kiss her gently, trying to show her how badly I needed this. How beautiful she was, how much I wanted to please her. How badly my core ached for her.

“Please,” she whimpers into the kiss, bucking her hips. 

“Shh, it’s okay mama,” I answer, beginning to kiss her neck. “You’ll get it. Need to take my time.”

A desperate whine escapes Izara’s mouth, her hands coming to my shoulders. “No, now.”

The sternness in her voice takes me by surprise, sending a shiver down my spine. 

“Oh she bossy huh?” I grin, pulling back to see the girl’s face. It’s just as stern as her voice, her fingers weaving into my hair and yanking just enough to force me to let out a moan.

“Now,” she repeats, hands pushing me. I immediately melt, my boxers growing wetter as I’m pushed down her body. My nose nuzzles against her abdomen, fingers eagerly coming to the band of her shorts. She wants it now? I’ll give it to her now. I’ll do anything for her, anything to make her happy.

Suddenly I feel desperate too, tugging her shorts and underwear off at once. Izzie moans, feeling the air hit her core, glistening in the dim lighting from how wet she is. My mouth immediately begins to water.

I lower myself between her legs, breath tingling against her skin. “Are you sure, Iz?” I ask carefully, wrapping my arms around her thighs.

Izzie whines and arches her back, looking down at me. “Yes, Paige, now. Please.”

I don’t hesitate, diving straight in. My tongue darts out licking along her slit, tasting her. Really tasting her. It’s heaven. She tastes better than I could have ever imagined. My eyes immediately roll back, overwhelmed by her. “Oh my God…” I groan into her clit, beginning to work her with all the skills I had in the world. It felt as if my entire life had led to this moment.

“Ohhh… baby,” Izzie whimpers, voice shaking and hands grabbing a hold of my hair. It’s the most beautiful sound in the world. I moan again, feeling like I might cum untouched by the time I’m done with her.

-

Paige’s mouth is wrapped around my clit, sucking and licking through my folds. I swear in only a few minutes of her working me I could feel my core pulsing and dripping, the blonde getting me close faster than I even knew was possible. I was a mess, eyes teary, loud moans filling the room, hips squirming and Paige following with ease. I look down and watch the blonde, who’s whimpering and moaning as if she’s the one getting off.

“Paige, baby…” I cry out, pulling on her blonde hair. 

“Tell me…” she gasps between licks. “Tell me how good it feels.”

It felt downright filthy, the way we spoke to each other, the way we wanted each other. I had never experienced it before.

“Feels so good my love,” I moan, my back arching as her tongue lies flat on my clit, moving in a sloppy circle. “You make me feel so fucking good.”

Paige moans, reaching up to knead my breast, my hard nipple pressing against her palm as she keeps up with her pace, the knot deep in my tummy tightening and tightening.

“Izara you taste so good,” she hums against me. “Never gonna get enough. This pussy’s perfect.”

Her filthy words ignite something within me, my climax beginning to roam over my body. 

“P-Paige, don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” I whimper desperately, my voice turning high pitched.

“Fuck, you already close?” She asks shocked, but continues the sloppy, skilled movements of her mouth. I nod desperately, gasping for air as Paige pins me to the mattress, face glistening with my wetness.

“Mhm, don’t stop. Don’t stop. Fuck, I-”

“I gotchu beautiful, c’mon baby. Lemme make you feel good,” Paige coos.

“P-Paige!” I gasp, the knot in my stomach snapping as I pull her even closer into my pussy, her moans getting muffled against my folds. My back arches and the whimpers get louder as jolts of pleasure wash over me like waves,  body trembling badly. I feel ecstatic, completely out of it. I had never felt pleasure like this before.

She keeps eating me through my climax, my hands pulling her back by her hair once the sensation becomes too much. The blonde lifts her head, looking completely fucked out, lids heavy and a dopey grin on her face, my wetness dripping down her chin.

“I’m never getting sick of that,” Paige says breathlessly, licking her chin clean of me. I blush covering my face in embarrassment of what just happened.

“Come here,” I giggle but the blonde shakes her head. 

“Lemme clean you up first. You made a mess,” she smirks, leaning back down and beginning to gently, carefully licking every inch of my sensitive, dripping cunt. My eyes roll back immediately, hand grabbing the sheets, the cotton soft under my sticky back.

“Paige, I’m already done,” I chuckle, pushing her off lightheartedly. But she grabs my hands and pins them against the mattress, lifting her face.

“Only once?” She asks, which surprises me. To finish twice felt selfish. I was lucky if I finished once in my previous relationship.

“Baby you don’t need to, it felt so good.”

Paige chuckles, coming back up from between my legs and kissing me sloppily. Her tongue slips into my mouth, forcing me to taste myself. It’s dirty, making that fire deep inside me ignite again. Suddenly I wanted more of her. Paige can tell, reading my body with ease.

“Need to fuck you again,” she whines, hand squeezing my thigh. “Please mama.”

The whine of her voice, the way she’s begging drives me insane. So I nod, chasing her gaze. “Fuck me Paige.”

Without a warning, Paige’s finger slides inside me, the sudden intrusion making me gasp. Paige grins satisfied, breathing shakily. 

“How is this pussy so tight,” the blonde groans, struggling to fit in a second finger. My body molds around her, eyes rolling back from the stretch. 

“Oh fuck,” I moan, feeling her fingers curling against the spongey tissue inside me, finding the perfect spot with incredible ease. My hand goes to Paige’s shorts, tugging on them desperately. “Take these off.”

“Shit,” the girl hisses at my command, pulling them down with her free hand. There’s a visible wet spot on her grey boxers, making my core pulse around her fingers. The blonde pulls the boxers off too, and I watch as she presses her dripping cunt onto my thigh.

We both moan at the contact, the air thick with the sound of our joint gasps and the squelching sound of her strong, skilled fingers buried inside me. It doesn’t take long for both of our bodies to be trembling with pleasure, Paige’s blue eyes locked with mine as she grinds her clit against the soft skin of my thigh. 

“Wanted this for so long,” the blonde moans, brows furrowed in deep pleasure. I nod, agreeing and gasping for air as the pace of her fingers speeds up.

“Me too baby,” I whimper. “You fuck me so good Paige.” It was so unlike me to be saying these things, but it’s something in her that got me to do new things. To find an ease.

Paige moans in response to my words, her head lulling as her eyes squeeze shut in ecstasy.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous. The most beautiful girl in the world I swear,” she hums, grinding on me faster, more sloppy. “You know that?”

I moan, Paige’s fingers beginning to pump into me at an incredible pace, my entire body beginning to burn up. I feel my pussy throbbing around her fingers, squeezing her. The blonde feels it too, her jaw falling slack.

“Perfect girl with a perfect pussy.”

My eyes roll back at these words, feeling my orgasm begin to take over. However, Paige’s hand grabs my jaw, my eyes opening from the contact. 

“No, Izzie, keep those eyes on me. Wanna look at you- fuck,” she moans for a moment, unable to speak from how close she’s getting. “Need to look into your eyes when I cum.”

No one has even made me feel like this, this ecstatic. No one has ever been so good to me. Made me feel this heavenly. No one’s ever said these things to me. Looked at me like this. It’s borderline overwhelming. 

As Paige adds a third finger and pushes it inside me, my moans turn high pitched and desperate. The stretch is overwhelming but I keep my eyes open on the blonde’s scrunched up face.

“Shii- Tell me you’re- fuck, please tell me you’re close baby,” Paige moans, the movement of her hips turning frantic, fingers curling against me with force. My body tightens around her fingers, body writhing in pleasure. The climax right around the corner, coming on even stronger than the first one.

“I’m- I’m close,” I cry out as Paige’s thumb presses into my clit with every pump of her fingers.

“Oh sh- Iz- Izzie, you feel so good,” the blonde gasps, rambling as her orgasm approaches.

“Paige,” I whine.

“Look at me. Look at me Izzie.”

My eyes lock onto her face as my climax washes over me a million times more intense than the first time around. My back arches off the bed and eyes involuntarily roll back. The sight sets Paige off, her eyes locked on my face as she comes with me, rambling in a daze, something I can’t even hear over how loud my own moans are.

The girl collapses on top of me, making me wince as she pulls her fingers out of me. Paige’s skin sticks to mine, her nose nuzzling against my cheek. My eyes flutter open, watching the blonde girl’s face resting on the pillow next to me.

“Hey,” Paige murmurs, leaning over and kissing my forehead. It makes my chest flutter.

“Hey,” I copy the girl, smiling gently. A bright smile spreads to her face.

“That was…” Paige starts, shaking her head.

“Amazing,” I finish her sentence, giggling a little. Truthfully no words could describe how good that felt. How euphoric it was. However, as the silence settles, I can see a hint of hesitation on the blonde’s face. I suppose this changes everything, I knew it did. Worst of all I had come to a realisation that would flip everything on its head.

“Paige,” I whisper, chasing her gaze. The girl’s blue eyes meet mine, expectant.

“Yeah?”

I take a deep breath. “I don’t think I can be just friends with you.”

-

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[martian-astro10]

Astrology observations- Part 1 (use whole signs)

🍃 Venus in 1st house people have THICK hair (I have Venus in 1st and 3 of my friends have it as well, and we all have really voluminous frizzy/curly hair, that's hard to manage)

🍃 Saturn in 3rd can mean that you'll start college later than your peers ( I have it and my student visa got rejected 3 times😭😭 and by the time I started college, all my friends were already in their third year)

🍃 Saturn in 3rd can also mean that you start dating later than your friends or it could mean that you just aren't THAT interested in casual relationships, you probably want something serious.

🍃 Mars in 1st, if in friendly signs, can mean having a really high sex drive, sexual attraction is very important for you in a relationship. (I have it, Mars in 1st in Aries, and it's true for me, I also have rahu there so I play a lot of sports to control this, like I really exhaust myself to the bone, meditating also helps. hypersexuality is not good, so just make sure that you don't go overboard)

🍃 Moon trine Saturn people are really respectful towards women. They were either raised by a single mother or their mother made the important decisions in the family. I have it but I also know a guy who has this and he's just the sweetest and even though his mom is a sahm and his dad earns, his mom is the more powerful one��, like his dad just earns and gives all the money to his mom. It's really cute.

🍃 Venus square midheaven people were often bullied for their appearance when young, from what I've noticed, and that's why they grow up to become people pleasers, because they don't want to be the "outcast" again. A lot of self esteem issues as well. You guys are the type to wake your partner up in the middle of the night and ask them "do you love me" and then they probably reply with "we've been married for 10 years"

🍃 Neptune square ascendant is that "HOW DO I REALLY LOOK" placement, they're the ones who get really frustrated because they look different in the mirror and camera. (I have this 🥲👍) It sucks, also you guys are obsessed with personality tests

🍃 Venus in 1st house people care a lot about a person's appearance in a relationship, it's not wrong but just make sure that it's not the ONLY thing that you focus on. I also think that it sort of stems from your own insecurity, like you guys think that you aren't attractive so being with a conventionally attractive person makes up for it, IN YOUR MIND, so work on increasing your self confidence

🍃 Moon opposite Venus people want to be affectionate but the fear of getting rejected stops them from doing so. ( I have this and sometimes I get this urge to just hug or kiss someone, like on the cheeks, friend, family, romantic partner, but then I assume that the person won't like it, so i give up. Here's the thing, ASK, this is what I started doing, now whenever I feel like that, i just go- can i kiss you on the cheek, if the person says yes, I do it, and back off if they say no) oppositions and squares are not bad aspects okay, you just need to learn how to deal with them, so yeah, ask people, don't be scared, they won't bite, some of them might, but don't hold yourself back because of them 😘🫂

🍃 Sun square Pluto women, are men scared of you?? (If yes, then, AS THEY FUCKING SHOULD). I have this and i think men find me intimidating (I'm the least intimidating person EVER), but also, I feel like, this makes you kind of unable to deal with men, you always wanna be in control, a lot of trust issues, you also think all men are shit (WHICH THEY ARE) but also you guys need to realise that some men are actually......kinda.....good🤢, almost threw up while writing this, ewwww, actually you know what, keep on having trust issues, BE IN CONTROL

[everrinsly]

a/n; thank you for the sweet comments! i love rambling about haikyuu, this is a perfect outlet haha, i'm happy a lot of you like! i was re-reading the manga and added soft oikawa moments because he just makes everything better, and it wouldn't be the olympics without him! I might add a few bonus stories to this one because there's a lot of cute memories here... i think hehe

જ⁀🏐🇯🇵⁀🏐🇦🇷

a momager and her silly olympic team.

a kitagawa daiichi reunion, table wars, and dramatic setters in the dining hall. fluff. fem!reader. | not proofread.

oikawa makes his presence... and steals you away. the boys are absolutely crashing out.

more olympic team shenanigans here!

more reads!

જ⁀🏐🇯🇵⁀🏐🇦🇷

You were just on your way to grab a second matcha pudding (Hinata swore it was super lucky) when a familiar voice called out behind you—

“Well, if it isn’t my sweet, little angel from Kitagawa.”

You blinked and turned to see Oikawa Tooru, hair perfectly styled despite the humidity of the Olympic Village dining hall, striding toward you like he was about to walk a runway instead of sitting and eating carbs. 

“TOORU!” you grinned, instantly brightening as he pulled you into a warm hug. “It’s been forever!”

“I’ve missed you,” he crooned dramatically, holding your hand and intertwining your smaller ones in his even after the hug ended. “You’re cuter than ever. Your hair’s all frizzy though. Is it because of the air, or is it just because you’ve been surrounded by idiots all tournament?”

You laughed, slipping your fingers away to poke at his chest. “And you are exactly the same.”

“Charming, dazzling, and criminally underappreciated?” he smirked.

Before you could retort, Iwaizumi walked up behind you, holding two plates of chicken curry like he’d been expecting this moment for years. “Why is it always you?”

“Iwa!” you gasped, taking a seat at the table next to Oikawa as Iwaizumi sighed and sat across from you both. “Be nice. He’s your best friend.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, a twitch of a smile on his lips. “Kind of tired of him though. Called me late at night yesterday when the schedules came out. Said ‘I’ll beat your asses.’

Oikawa had the audacity to grin, teeth showing as he sipped from his juice box like a smug little gremlin. “And I meant every word. Argentina’s taking the gold this year, obviously.”

You turned to him with an exaggerated look of offense. “Excuse me? You're sitting in Team Japan’s section and spewing blasphemy?”

Oikawa just grinned boyishly. But he did look a little out of place—draped in that sleek Argentinian blue, hair swept and fluffed, posture obnoxiously relaxed in a seat surrounded by a sea of Japan’s deep red tracksuits. Even his lanyard, with its bright Argentine flag and name badge, looked like it was taunting the rest of the tables. You swore one of the Japanese nutritionists passing by narrowed their eyes at it.

“I go where the vibes are immaculate, cariño. And your vibes are always worth the treason.” He shrugged unapologetically, tilting his head in that charmingly annoying way.

Iwaizumi groaned. “You’re actually the worst.”

You laughed and leaned your chin on your hand, looking between the two of them, the chicken curry already forgotten. “I missed this.”

That earned a pause from both of them. Oikawa’s smile faltered just a little—just enough to show something real underneath. Iwaizumi softened, too, his eyes a bit more gentle as he leaned back in his chair.

“Yeah,” Oikawa said after a moment, tone quieter. “Me too.”

It was weirdly peaceful for a second. The kind of nostalgia that comes without bitterness—just that soft ache in your chest when you realize how far you’ve all come.

Then, naturally, Oikawa ruined it.

“But… Iwa was the one who left me. And so did you.” He booped your nose softly.

“You joined Argentina,” Iwaizumi deadpanned.

You were already trying not to laugh.

It’s like middle school all over again. 

જ⁀🏐🇯🇵⁀🏐🇦🇷

Meanwhile, at the next table over…

Team Japan was imploding. All of your players were not-so-discreetly staring at you.

The air around them was so thick with jealousy and dramatic outrage, it practically crackled. There was no actual fire—yet—but it was only a matter of time before someone tried to spontaneously combust from sheer rage and pettiness (cough cough, Kageyama and Atsumu).

Atsumu was halfway out of his chair, outright glaring, stabbing aggressively at his rice with his chopsticks like it had personally betrayed him. 

“Did ya see that?” he whisper-shouted to no one in particular. “He booped her nose. That’s basically marriage in some cultures! I read it on the internet!”

“You don’t get to talk, Miya. You boop her nose all the time—”

“NO—ya don’t get it! She did that cute lil’ scrunch she never does with me! THE SCRUNCH BRO—!”

Hinata looked personally betrayed, cheeks puffed in disbelief, eyes wide as saucers. 

“She’s looking at him like how she used to look at me…” he said, voice cracking. 

“Hinata… she looks at you like that more than she looks at any of us,” Komori sighed. 

Suna, the usual picture of emotional detachment, looked like someone had just stolen his favorite hoodie and called his fox tattoo ugly. His jaw was tight, his gaze locked on your shared bench with Oikawa like he was running calculations on how fast he could body-check him without violating Olympic code.

Bokuto’s hair lost all its spike, which meant that he was in his emo mode—and as proven, his eyes were all round and glassy. He was aggressively chewing through his grilled chicken like it was Oikawa’s dignity. 

“He’s not even in red!” he burst out. “That’s traitor energy! We don’t flirt in blue!”

“I mean—he’s playing for Argentina, so blue and white would make sense…” Komori tried to explain, before Bokuto threw a piece of broccoli at him for being ‘a know-it-all enabler of heartbreak.’

Sakusa, normally too disinterested to care, had slowly, silently pulled up his mask and tugged it over his nose and mouth like he was shielding himself from the stench of betrayal. 

“But at least Oikawa uses hair conditioner,” he muttered, glaring sideways at Atsumu.

“Ey—what’s that supposed to mean!?”

Ushijima and Aran both sat motionless, forks paused in midair, staring blankly like they were trying to will Oikawa’s existence into a non-issue. 

“She deserves better,” Aran said simply.

“You guys ain’t even lookin’ at her!” Atsumu snapped.

Ushijima was the one to respond. “We don’t need to. We can feel the wrongness from here.”

And Kageyama—well. To no one’s surprise, he had somehow clenched his chopsticks into two sharp splinters. His eyes twitched. 

“Oikawa’s not even a good setter,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Oh… sure… says the one who still watches replays of his sets and serves—”

“SHUT UP—!”

જ⁀🏐🇯🇵⁀🏐🇦🇷

You glanced over toward the next table, sensing the unmistakable heat of several glares boring a hole into your side profile. Sure enough—Japan’s finest were frozen mid-plot.

And all of them, without fail, snapped their gazes away the second your eyes met theirs.

You exhaled a soft sigh and gave them a small, weary smile: the kind that said, ‘Please don’t commit international incidents on my behalf.’

Oikawa snorted, his chin resting lazily on his hand as he watched the circus with unmasked amusement. “Oh yeah. Totally normal vibes. Real casual. I definitely don’t feel like I’m about to be smacked with a chopstick.”

“They’re protective,” you offered, trying to brush it off. You tried to sound nonchalant, but even you could hear the sheepish note in your voice.

“They’re obsessed,” Iwaizumi corrected, not even looking up as he picked at his food with a long-suffering sigh. “You breathe in someone else’s direction and half the team looks like they’re ready to file a kidnapping report.”

You let out a soft laugh, a fond memory replying in your head. “I think the Inarizaki boys actually filed one… in the last Asian Championship… blamed it on Osamu even though he was all the way in Osaka.”

“Didn’t they rope Ushijima in on that also?”

“Yeah. Kita was called for that scolding.”

“Fuckin’ foxy idiots.”

“Oh? Even the Ushiwaka? So they’re… threatened,” Oikawa said with glee, shooting a wink at your flustered expression. “And frankly, they should be. Who could resist me?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t provoke them.”

“Why not? It’s fun.”

You swatted at his arm, cheeks warming. “You started it, flirting like it’s your job.”

“It is my job,” he said proudly.

“You’re a setter,” Iwaizumi deadpanned. “Set the damn ball, and eat your damn rice.”

“Mm. But seriously. What’s the harm in causing a little fuss in the motherland?”

જ⁀🏐🇯🇵⁀🏐🇦🇷

Back at the boys’ table… the clown show continued with absolutely no grace and no subtlety. 

“Is he holding her hand?” Suna asked flatly. His eyes were narrowed and locked onto you and Oikawa like he was seconds away from aiming a spike to his head. 

“I don’t like this,” Atsumu muttered, dramatically twisting the cap off his water bottle like it personally wronged him. 

“He’s literally glowing,” Komori whispered. “Why is he glowing? He sparkled just now. Did you see that? He sparkled.”

“The bastard’s always glowing,” Kageyama gritted out, glaring a hole into his senpai’s back. 

Bokuto had both fists clenched on the table. “Why is she LAUGHING?!”

“She doesn’t laugh with us like that,” Sakusa added darkly. His eyes were squinted above his mask. 

Ushijima was unmoving, gaze locked on Oikawa like a hawk. “If he played for Japan, we would not have this problem.”

Aran leaned in. “Can we steal her back?”

“We can do better. Like a distraction,” Suna said, unlocking his phone. “I’m gonna record.”

“Like a food fight?” Komori asked.

“I can flirt,” Atsumu offered, grinning widely. 

“That’s just you on a regular Tuesday,” Sakusa said flatly.

“Hinata,” Suna said suddenly, leaning forward, “go over there and yell that your knee hurts. Cry a little.”

“Yeah. You’re her favorite. She always pays attention to you,” Aran added. 

There was a quiet pause before Hinata spoke, voice soft and wavering. 

“N-no… you guys. I think—I think Oikawa outclasses me,” Hinata said with the biggest pout ever. 

Silence. 

“Well shit.”

જ⁀🏐🇯🇵⁀🏐🇦🇷

Back at your table, you giggled as Oikawa boasted, “I’ve already called dibs on your dessert. For old times’ sake.”

“Why would I give you my pudding?” you asked, laughing. “You never gave me your desserts.���

“I gave you my heart,” he countered dramatically.

You blushed.

At the other table, chaos.

“Did you see that?!” Bokuto yelled. “She’s blushing! She never blushes with me!”

“She literally blushed last night when you tripped trying to flex your calves,” Komori pointed out.

“THAT WAS DIFFERENT!”

“We gotta act now,” Atsumu said, leering over to peek at your table for the millionth time.

જ⁀🏐🇯🇵⁀🏐🇦🇷

So, Plan Steal-The-Manager-Back commences…

Chaos, immediate and entirely manufactured, erupted from Team Japan’s table like a volcano of needy, overgrown children.

Komori suddenly fake-coughed so loud and so aggressively that he sent an entire tray of water cups crashing to the floor.

Hinata whined in his most neediest voice, “Sweets… I need you… I think my legs are cramping.”

Bokuto started sobbing. “I’m sad and I don’t know why!” he cried, face buried in his hands, voice cracking.

Atsumu flung a napkin dramatically like a flag of heartbreak and distress. 

“It’s too late,” he groaned, collapsing into Aran’s arms like he’d just been betrayed by fate itself. “She’s moved on. She’s got an Argentinean now…”

“Do you even know what country Argentina is in?” Aran asked, lugging him off.

“I—it’s the vibes, Aran!”

Suna, in all his lazy glory, just leaned back and recorded the ruckus, like this was all part of his scheme (it was).

જ⁀🏐🇯🇵⁀🏐🇦🇷

You blinked at the noise and turned toward the table of chaos incarnate that was Team Japan.

“Oh no,” you sighed, half-rising from your seat. “What are they doing?”

Trays were tipped, napkins were flying, and the dining staff gave glares that could kill. 

Oikawa pouted, tugging softly at your wrist. “They’re interrupting our moment.”

“Moment?” you repeated.

He winked. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice. I’m putting on my best performance.”

You flushed again. “That’s just how you always are.”

“Exactly,” he purred. “My most irresistible form.”

“Excuse me,” Suna appeared beside you, eyes sharp. “She has to come check on the team. Medical concern.”

“Looks like a ridiculous medical concern to me.”

“Looks like a real risk of cardiac distress,” Suna fired back coolly. “They miss her so much it’s affecting their vitals.”

Hinata had somehow fake-wobbled over and clutched your sleeves—something he’d do if he was absolutely, shamelessly begging for your attention. “Sweets, I’m serious! I’m physically—and emotionally—deteriorating!”

You squinted up at him. “Sho… remember when you lost your wallet in Brazil and called me sobbing because you couldn’t buy dinner?”

Hinata blinked down at you with his best kicked-puppy eyes. “...Yes.” 

You almost felt bad. Almost. 

“And who bought you food and gave you a hug in the middle of that street?”

His voice was small and ashamed. “...O-Oikawa.”

Oikawa beamed. “You hear that? I’m a hero. Feed the boy vatapá suddenly I’m his savior.”

“Okay, but I’m still dying,” Hinata whispered dramatically.

Before you could respond, Atsumu popped up behind Hinata and raised his hand. “This is emotional sabotage, is what this is. He’s weaponizin’ nostalgia!”

“I’m weaponizing chemistry,” Oikawa corrected smoothly, winking at you again. “Can’t help it if we have a connection.”

“She has a connection with all of us,” Komori huffed, finally giving up the cough and standing with hands on his hips. 

“Yeah. ‘Cause she raised us,” Aran whispered, hands clasped. “...From dehydrated, emotionally unstable boys… into slightly more hydrated, emotionally unstable men.”

“Nah. Dehydrated, emotionally unstable babies actually,” Iwaizumi grumbled. 

Oikawa gave a lazy wave toward them. “You all are so loud. Jealousy isn't a good look on Olympians, you know.”

Atsumu gasped. “I’m not jealous! I’m competitive.”

Oikawa raised an eyebrow. “You’re still this dramatic?”

“Still prettier than you,” Atsumu snapped.

“Oh?” Oikawa smirked. “You wanna battle on looks and sets?”

“Do I?!” Atsumu growled, practically leaping over Hinata to grab at Oikawa before Suna yanked him back. 

“Both of you are just insecure because she likes my tosses better,” Kageyama added.

You turned slowly. “Actually… none of you are good setters.”

Silence.

Komori covered his face to stifle a laugh. 

There was a twitch of a smirk on Ushijima. 

Sakusa let out an approving hum. 

Aran choked on his water. 

And Kageyama looked like you told him volleyballs didn't exist. 

“I—what—” he croaked, blinking rapidly, his whole body visibly malfunctioning. “You said… I’m not… but I…” He clutched his water bottle like it could stabilize his spiraling self-esteem.

“I’m kidding,” you said quickly, reaching over to pat Kageyama’s arm before he spiraled into a full-blown existential volleyball crisis. “You’re fine. Your tosses are great.”

“Fine?!”

You turned to Atsumu. “And you’re… technically a setter.”

Atsumu gasped, clutching his chest. “Technically?! I’m Japan’s best setter! I was voted MVP… M-V-fuckin’-P!”

Iwaizumi muttered into his curry, “That was back in high school… haven’t won anything in a while, huh?”

“IWA—!”

Before Atsumu could attempt to flirt his way into a redemption arc, a pity hug, or quite possibly your lap, you leaned up to card your fingers through his hair, pushing a few strands away from his eyes. “I’m kidding, silly.”

Atsumu pouted but still melted at your touch. “Ain’t funny, sweetheart.”

Meanwhile, Kageyama was still sulking next to you, mumbling about how fine was basically the same thing as meh and he didn’t dedicate his entire adolescence to training just to be called meh by you.

Oikawa laughed so hard he nearly choked. “She’s brutal. No wonder you’re all obsessed with her.”

“And you,” you began, turning to face Oikawa (because he was not off the hook), “...are sort of a setter.”

Oikawa slow-blinked, like he didn’t understand what nonsense was thrown at him. “E-excuse me, cariño... you don't mean that... right?"

Atsumu brightened up immediately, leaning in smug. “Oh, so who’s better?”

You glanced between them—Kageyama looking like a thundercloud about to strike, Atsumu wiggling his eyebrows, and Oikawa doing his stupid pretty-boy pout. 

The boys fell silent as you thought for a moment. 

“Sugawara-senpai.”

“SUGA—”

“Yes. Suga.”

"...You know, I can't even be mad about that," Kageyama murmured.

(And was that the truth because you adored Suga).

જ⁀🏐🇯🇵⁀🏐🇦🇷

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reacting to their s/o having curly hair

Request: GIOOOOODDDDDD MOORNINGGGG YOU BEAUTIFUL WONDERFUL SPECTACULAR HUMAN ｡ﾟ( ﾟ^∀^ﾟ)ﾟ｡

it’s meeeeeeee your 🫧 anon (✿◠‿◠) before i begin i must give you words of thanks for fueling my (and all of our) delusions 🙂‍↕️ it’s very much appreciated in this economy (づ ￣ ³￣)づ

since ur requests are open again would u mind indulging me just one more time? 🥹 how svt would react to reader having curly hair ╥﹏╥ i saw one (and only one :/) somewhere awhile ago and i haven’t been able to find any since so i would 🥰LOVE🥰 if your beautiful wonderful spectacular brain would do its sparkly pixie magic 🪄 on this for me whenever you get free time 🥹 absolutely no rush, of course!!

anyways, even if you don’t get to it I STILL LOVE UUUU INFINITY REGARDLESS MWAH 💋 I HOPE YOU HAVE A LOVELY DAY(。･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

A/N: YOU’RE SO SWEET OMG!!! Your energy is literally sunshine in text form 😦

I LOVE this request!! Curly hair appreciation is SO underrated and I’d be absolutely honored to write this one for you!! I’ll keep it ambiguous and relatable, so all the curly-headed cuties can feel SEEN. Thank you for trusting me with your vision again, and for always being such a ray of light!

P.S. MWAH BACK AT YOU!!

Seungcheol:

Lowkey obsessed. He loves running his fingers through your curls, even if you’re like “noooo, it’s gonna frizz!”

Always tells you how gorgeous your hair is, especially when you get self-conscious.

“You’re literally perfect!”

Might steal your diffuser to ‘help’ dry your hair but ends up doing it wrong lmao.

Jeonghan:

Teases you sometimes like, “Did a bird make a nest in here?” but actually melts inside because you’re adorable.

Loves watching you take care of your curls and enjoys when you let him help with your hair routine.

Buys you fancy satin pillowcases and pretends he’s nonchalant about it but secretly researched “how to protect curly hair at night.”

Joshua:

Super gentle with your curls, always asking if he can touch them.

Loves seeing you with your natural hair, will hype you up every single time.

Might playfully tug at a curl just to see it bounce back and giggle like a kid.

Also the type to say, “youur hair smells so nice!”

Jun:

Mesmerized by the texture. Will 100% stare at your hair when you’re talking because he’s so fascinated.

“It’s like art,” he says, poking at a curl.

Likes how soft and cozy your curls feel when you cuddle.

Might suggest you both try silly hair masks together, just for fun.

Hoshi:

Completely dramatic about it. “Why is your hair SO COOL?!” every time.

Loves when you wear it down so he can get lost in it.

Randomly sticks his face in your hair and says, “It smells like you!”

Will also take blurry selfies of you two mid-cuddle and caption them “the fluff squad.”

Wonwoo:

Admires how beautiful your curls are.

Looooves resting his head on your shoulder and feeling your soft hair brush against his face.

Will notice the effort you put into taking care of them and bring you little gifts like hair oils or scrunchies.

Very sincere compliments. “You look really pretty today.”

Woozi:

Lowkey loves your curls but pretends to be indifferent.

“It’s just hair,” but then gets flustered when you catch him staring.

Loves how your hair smells and might absentmindedly play with a curl when you’re sitting next to him.

Occasionally suggests writing a song about how cute you look 😭😭😭

Dokyeom:

Hypeman to the MAX. “LOOK AT THOSE CURLS! YOU’RE SO BEAUTIFUL!”

Loves tucking your hair behind your ear only for it to curl under your ear, and then he giggles like crazy.

Gets way too into helping you shop for hair stuff, reading every label like an exam.

Constantly says, “You should model your hair, it’s like from a magazine.”

Mingyu:

SO TOUCHY. Always playing with your curls, even when you say, “Stop, I’ll get frizzy!”

Thinks you’re the cutest thing on earth and tells you constantly.

Buys you way too many hair products like, “I don’t know what this does but it says curl on it.” [protect my man!]

Loves when you wear one of his oversized hoodies and your hair just flows out cutely.

Minghao:

Effortlessly stylish himself, so he appreciates your unique beauty.

Definitely suggests fun haircare routines or treatments because he’s into self-care too.

Will compliment you like, “Your curls are so you, they’re perfect,” and genuinely mean it.

Loves when your hair gets a little wild after a long day and you don’t bother taming it.

Seungkwan:

Super playful but also super loving.

Loves when your curls frame your face, always says you look extra cute when you wake up with bedhead.

“How are you THIS adorable 24/7?”

Sends you memes about curly hair struggles and relates hard with you.

Vernon:

Obsessed with how your curls match your vibe.

Loves burying his face in your hair when hugging you from behind.

Always notices when you try a new curly hairstyle and says something like, “Yo, that’s fire.”

Will try to sneak pics of you when your curls are all fluffy because he loves how soft you look.

Dino:

Super fascinated. Might ask a million questions like, “How long does it take to style them?”

Loves how unique your curls make you and is always super supportive.

Will randomly twirl a curl around his finger while you’re talking and not even realize it.

“You’re like…extra soft,” he says while giving you the tightest bear hug ever.

[borathae]

Make It Better | KTH x f.Reader

“You are having one of those days where you feel like the ugliest, most appalling person to ever exist. Taehyung wants to do everything in his power to make you see how beautiful you actually are.”

Pairing: Taehyung x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Comfort, Fluff

Warnings: kinda body dysphoria because she sees flaws and "ugly spots" where there are none yk, just in general insecurities, Tae being the most loving and caring and understanding boyfriend ever, he makes her feel good again, omfg i love him so much

Wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: is this once again self-indulgent cause i'm going through it lately? Yes. JSJSJS somebody help, Tae help. no but seriously, i hope this can cheer up anyone who is having one of those days <3 we are all baddies eventhough our minds wanna tell us otherwise 💜

Taehyung is drawn to your clothing room because of sniffles and frustrated huffs.

The door is ajar and music is playing, but you have your back turned to him. The floors and surfaces are covered in pieces of clothing. You are in nothing but your underwear, currently standing in front of the mirror and poking parts of your body as if disgusted by them.

He knocks gently so as not to startle you.

“Darling, do not frighten. It is me. I heard sniffles and I wanted to check on you. Is everything alright?”

You turn, giving view to your reddened eyes and runny nose.

“No, I’m weird and disgusting and the ugliest person to ever exist.”

“Excuse me? No, you are not. Darling”, Taehyung gasps and closes the distance in big stomps. He takes your hands. “What madness are you spouting? You are neither ugly nor disgusting. Why would you say this about yourself?”

“I feel so ugly.”

“Well, just because you feel like it, does not mean that you are.” He wipes your tears. “You are so beautiful and pretty.”

“Thanks, yeah. I just can’t see it right now. I don’t feel good about myself. I feel like my face is weird and my hair is always either too greasy or too frizzy and my body is shaped weird and my boobs are never boobying like other boobs do.”

“Oh goodness, this isn’t the truth at all.” He shakes his head. “Your face is beautiful, your hair is beautiful, the shape of your body is perfect and your breasts are very much boobying correctly.” 

A small smile curls your lips. 

“Thanks. Can I get a hug?”

“Of course you can get a hug, my darling”, Taehyung says and pulls you against his chest.

One must know that Taehyung has developed a love for working out. Lifting weights to be more exact. Which means that his chest and arms have grown rather impressively. This is important to mention because with his new physique, his hugs feel especially safe and healing. You feel protected and supported and overall like he is your strong man to lean on.

“Can I have a squeeze?”

Taehyung squeezes you gently, rubbing your back as he does. 

You sigh in relief, sinking deeper into his embrace.

“Tae, I don’t like when I feel like this”, you mumble into him while he listens and rubs your back, “I’m pretty sure it’s just my hormones or the moon phase and I’m just being dramatic, but it’s still real right now and it makes me feel bad.”

“Of course it does and hormonal changes aren’t to be taken lightly. You aren’t dramatic, my darling, your feelings are valid no matter if they are of hormonal origin or not.” 

“Thank you for saying this. I needed validation that I’m not just a crazy woman.”

“Don’t do that. Woman is not an insult. Goodness, you are truly speaking nonsense today”, he says and pats your butt, “I shall spank your butt for being mean to yourself and women.”

You snicker, looking into his eyes. He smiles sweetly, all while his hand gives your butt the softest of pats. 

“Bad girl, do not speak ill of your gender”, he scolds you jokingly.

“I deserve that, I agree.”

“Indeed. Just as you deserve this”, he says and smooches your cheeks. “Mwuah. For being pretty and very beautiful. Mwuah.”

You giggle, chasing his affection. He meets your eyes, gazing and smiling. It lasts just a few seconds and then frustration fills your chest again.

“Urgh Tae, I don’t like how I feel. Urgh”, you say and drop your head against him, “I don’t know if I can go on the date tomorrow. I don’t know what to wear. I feel so ugly and I’m at my limit.”

“Goodness, I hate to see you this way. Shall I help you?”

“Help me?”

“Yes. You shall sit by the powder table and I shall pick out an outfit which will make you feel pretty again.”

“Oh. Okay, yeah I’d like that.”

“Very good then. Sit, my darling and I will find you an outfit.” 

He hurries around the room for a bit and returns with a skirt and sweater look. He helps you put it on, explaining why he chose this look as he works on getting the folds right.

“I chose this because the sweater sits very nicely around your breasts. Look at them. They are very booby in it.”

You snicker, agreeing with a shy nod. He is not wrong. They sit very nicely. 

“And I combined the skirt with it because when I ask you to dance in the park, it will move prettily.”

“So you’ll ask me to dance?”

“Of course I will.” He says and slides his hand to your waist to turn you. He guides you left and right, showing you a glimpse of what tomorrow will bring.

“I love this idea, but…”

“You don’t like the outfit.”

“No, sorry. I think it sits weird on my shoulders and when I move, the sweater doesn’t stay tucked in and-” you huff out air, sagging your shoulders.

“This is no problem at all. Take it off. I shall find another one.”

He hurries back to the clothing racks, murmuring to himself how he could combine this with that and that with this. In the end, he returns with a body tight dress which you haven’t worn before.

“No, I’ll be too chilly.”

“This is no problem. Another look.”

He abandons the dress before you even put it on. He is murmuring again, taking this job very seriously.

“I’m sorry. I know I’m a lot.”

“I will ignore what you just said because you are neither a lot nor should you apologise. Ah yes! This will go perfectly with this.”

He hurries back to you. 

“These pants with this blouse. It is elegant with a hint of sophistication and the red belt will give it a pop of colour.”

You put it on, turn and twist in front of the mirror and sigh in defeat.

“I feel like my tummy looks weird.”

“It doesn’t, but I shall find something else. I cannot have you feeling this way. It is not the truth, but sometimes it is best to make oneself feel pretty in other ways.”

His positive and judgement-free attitude surrounding your insecurities feels healing. Deep down you know that what your brain is telling you today is a lie. Deep down you know that you are pretty and that your body is not shaped weirdly. But it is difficult to agree when you feel just so shitty about yourself. Even if it will only last for today, tomorrow, this week. Right now, it is very real and it is so healing to have him attempt to tackle the issues without judging them or calling you crazy for them.

He returns with a cocky grin on his face.

“I feel it in my heart that this is going to be it. We have; your favourite colours, a poofy skirt, ruffles and” he lifts his pointer finger dramatically, “pockets”, he says and stuffs his hand into the skirt pocket. 

You laugh, “wow okay, convincing argument.”

“It is indeed. Try it on and let me know how you feel.”

You twist and turn and study yourself. 

“And?” 

“I like the skirt, but the blouse looks weird on me. Urgh, it’s useless, I’m too ugly for life.”

“No you are not. You feel ugly, but you aren’t ugly. Take off the blouse, I will not give up until you feel pretty again.”

He hurries back to your shirts and tops and only returns once he is happy. He helps you slip it on, massaging your shoulders softly once you are dressed.

“You are beautiful, my darling”, he whispers, gazing at you with loving, sparkly eyes.

You look at yourself and you don’t hate what you see. As a matter of fact, you think that you look pretty.

“Tae, I like this.”

“You do?”

You nod your head, “I look pretty.”

“You do. You are. Oh darling, is this it?”

“I think it is. Wow, I can’t believe it. I actually have an outfit which makes me feel nice again.”

“I am so happy to hear this. Oh my darling”, he hugs you and kisses your cheek, “you are so beautiful and it hurts when you cannot see it. I am glad that I could help you feel better again.”

“You really could. Thank you. I know it took…wow an hour. I’m so sorry, I-”

“Hush, this was the best hour of my day”, he silences you and turns you in his arms. “Yes, sweetest? I could have spent ten hours on it and I still would have loved it. Yes?”

“Yes, okay”, you whisper, eyes sparkly.

“Yes.” He caresses your cheek. “Now, what shall we do for the rest of tonight? I cannot possibly leave you alone when you feel this way.”

“Honestly? If you helped me clean this mess up and then held me in bed, I would already be happy.”

“Then we shall do exactly that. And I will add a compliment each minute to it.”

You laugh, “okay, okay if you say so.”

“Mh-hm I do. Compliment number one. Your smile really brightens a room.”

You smile, heart fluttering.

“Thank you so much. God Tae sweetest, I love you”, you say and hug him.

“I love you too, my sweetest”, he purrs softly and hugs you back. 

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

High Infidelity

Regulus Black x f!reader, Sirius Black x f!reader (mentioned)

warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, slight mention of fingering, underage drinking, cheating sorry guys i couldn’t stop myself

summary: your boyfriend sirius and his friends have never felt welcoming. but his little brother is…

word count: 5.3k

a/n: once again i’m bad at summaries so basically you fuck regulus spoiler alert hahaha. inspired by taylor swift of course. she’s been inspiring too much smut from me tbh. anywaysss. hope you enjoy (my sneaky link “broke up” w me today and i’m devastated) so here’s this !!!

~~~

April 20, 1978

“That’s precisely what I was thinking Moony!”

“Are you sure Padfoot? I got the understanding that it was you and Prongs who shared thoughts.”

“I second that.”

“Honestly I believe if James didn’t have Lily, you blokes would be together.”

“Definitely.”

“Well, Sirius also has y/n as well.”

You felt the boy beside you brush your shoulder with his, and you gave him a smile. “Oh, yes.”

The conversation continued, but you zoned out once again. You played with the vegetables on your plate and tapped your foot. Anxiety was a common thing you felt during meals with your boyfriend and his friend group. They were wonderful, but you always felt they had something secretly against you.

You were a year younger than your boyfriend, you were in Slytherin, you were pureblood, and you were cordial with the other members of your house. You weren’t stupid enough to believe the Marauders didn’t suspect something bad of you, or the Gryffindor girls. Some of them were muggle born and while you didn’t care much for blood purity, you could tell they thought you did.

When you and Sirius had begun dating a few months earlier, you were far from oblivious to the initial disapproval of his friends. You could see the skeptical looks Lily would share with her friends; you could hear the small whispers in classes. It didn’t bother you at first, in fact, you understood their distrust. You thought it would go away with time. But by the end of your second month dating their friend, you realized it was never going to change.

Your relationship with Sirius in short was far from perfect. You liked him, of course, and he liked you. However, it was clear neither of you saw it lasting forever. Deep in the corners of your mind, you’d thought it that before, a life with the infamous Sirius Black. You imagined the two of you would get your own flat after you graduated, you’d be shunned of course by your family, but it wouldn’t matter because you’d have him. Realistically though, you knew that life would never be possible. If he didn’t care enough to tell you why he sneaks off on full moons, if he didn’t care enough to let you in on jokes, if he didn’t care enough to even assure his friends fully that you weren’t like the rest of your house, you’d never have a life with him.

Without thinking about it, your eyes drifted across the great hall to a certain person in your house. He sat straight with a smile on his face as he conversed with his mates. A piece of his hair was in his eye, you watched as he brushed it away. You always wondered why people said he wasn’t as good-looking as his brother. He was just as handsome in your opinion. He was tall, his eyes were starry, and his black curls were never frizzy. His accomplishments spoke for themself. Top of the year, star seeker for Slytherin, prefect, he was the ideal boy. His only flaw in your eyes was his obsession with Voldemort and blood purity. Though your family and his were close in that aspect, you never cared much for the topic. He did though.

Suddenly, his eyes met yours. You watched his smile falter for a few seconds and a different expression formed. You looked away quickly, your cheeks turned pink. That wasn’t the first time you’d been caught staring at Regulus Black during dinner. It was far from it.

~~~

That night you sat alone by the fire in your common room. You’d been invited up to Sirius’s dorm with a promise that the other Marauders wouldn’t be there, but you declined. Sirius was a great shag; it would be impossible for him not to be with how many girls he’d been with. Truthfully, you didn’t like the number of girls that came before you, but you never said anything. You simply weren’t in the mood that night for any more patronizing looks, so you opted to silently work on homework instead.

After some time of working, the door opened. You instinctively looked up and found your pulse quicken as you were met with the beautiful eyes of Regulus Black. He was with his friends, Barty Crouch Jr, and Evan Rosier, but his eyes were on you. You looked down at the sheets of paper in your lap and pretended to not notice the sound of Regulus telling his friends to go up to their dorm without him. When they left though, you were forced to drop the act.

“I thought you’d be up in the Gryffindor tower with all your blood traitor and mudblood friends,” he said after taking a few steps closer to you.

You swallowed and kept your eyes on your paper. “I wasn’t in the mood, and they aren’t really my friends.”

“Really? Y/n you’re shagging my brother I’m not daft.”

He was slowly getting closer; you could see his shoes in your peripheral vision. You subconsciously held your breath. You kept your composure as well as you could.

“Great observation Reg, not as if the whole school knows that. And besides, since when have you cared about that?”

“I always care when someone with blood as pure as yours taints it with someone like my blood traitor brother,” he replied as if it were obvious. “Plus, if you have forgotten I’ve caught you staring at me at least a dozen times within the past month.”

Your cheeks turned bright red. “About that-”

“Look at me.”

His sudden authority made a warm feeling spread in your stomach. Slowly, you lifted your head to look up at him. He was close, barely a foot away. There was an expression on his face you once again couldn’t fully understand. You watched him examine your blushing face in silence.

“Go on then, explain yourself,” he said after a few seconds.

“I didn’t mean to; it was just an... accident,” you mumbled, your eyes moving around the room as you spoke.

Regulus tisked and without warning bent down slightly and gently touched his fingers to your chin. You were speechless. “I prefer to be looked at when spoken to y/n it’s a sign of respect. Can you do that?” You nodded and he moved to his previous position of standing. “Continue.”

“Like I said it was an accident, I sort of space out a lot and I guess my eyes go back to our table,” you continued. You stared in his eyes the entire time as your heart began to beat in your ears.

“I would’ve believed that if it had happened only once or twice, but this has been quite a few times. What is Sirius not fulfilling you enough?”

“No, it’s nothing like that he’s great I just... I dunno. You’re just...” You found it hard to speak with his eyes on you. “I dunno all right? Let’s just forget it’s ever happened yeah?”

It was the truth. You really didn’t know what it was that made you stare at him. It was just something. He fascinated you with his complexity. Sirius was outgoing and popular, but Regulus was closed off and reserved. He’d only had one known girlfriend in Hogwarts, he only talked to his friends, and he was mysterious. He was the opposite of his brother. And you found it perplexing.

“If you say so,” he spoke after a moment. Then he turned and started to walk toward the staircase to the boy's dorm. But before he was too far, he looked back at you with a sliver of a smirk. “You can talk to me though, if you need to. You don’t have to simply stare because my brother is insecure.”

He disappeared up the stairs before you could reply. And you spent the rest of the evening with his words replaying in your head.

~~~

April 22, 1978

You sat at lunch; Sirius’s arm was draped over your shoulders, and he shook as he laughed hysterically at something James said. You tried to put on a fake smile, but you weren’t sure how convincing it was. There was something about the way Sirius held you that made you feel off. You felt almost trapped. You felt as though you were being tested or put on display.

As if it was a sixth sense, your eyes looked at the one table you’d been purposely avoiding. He was already looking at you, it caused your breath to catch in your throat. For a few seconds, the two of you stared at each other, what felt like a mutual feeling of understanding was communicated through your eyes. So, when he nodded to the doorway you understood completely what he wanted. And you agreed.

“I’ve got to run down to my dorm I just remembered I forgot my essay for McGonagal.” You made up an excuse. From across the hall, you noticed Regulus already walking toward the exit. “I should go get it before class.”

Sirius dropped his arm from your shoulders and smiled. “You’re too forgetful y/n/n, but be quick I was hoping to get a quick snog in before that dreadful class.”

“Right, I’ll be as quick as I can,” you said as you stood up. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek, ignoring the eyes that were on you. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

“I could never!” He exclaimed as you began to walk away.

Truthfully, you weren’t too sure of where Regulus went. You relied on the gut feeling in your stomach to guide you. With anxiety and anticipation flowing through your body, you made your way down a few halls before you found an abandoned classroom. The door was open a sliver, and somehow you knew it was the one.

He was inside, leaning on one of the desks with his arms crossed over his chest. “Close the door.”

You didn’t hesitate to listen to his request. Once it was closed you turned back to face him. “I don’t... I don’t really know what to say.”

“You looked like you needed to escape, you don’t have to talk,” he replied. His face was almost soft. “Am I the only one who knows how you feel?”

“You don’t know how I feel,” you mumbled.

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Just because you haven’t told me doesn’t mean I can’t read your face. It’s almost unbearable how miserable you look while you sit there. Why do you do it?”

You only stared at him, almost starstruck. Has he always been so observant? Or was your pain noticeable? You didn’t know what came over you, but you only acted on it. Before you could stop yourself, you moved across the room until you were barely a foot away from him. Regulus has always been perceived as cold and rude, but in that moment, he looked at you with sincerity no one could deny. Regulus knew you. That was all it took.

Without another thought you grabbed his tie and crashed your lips on his. His lips were soft and warm. Unlike his brothers, Regulus’s lips didn’t feel as though they’d been kissed thousands of times. He felt far less welcoming but nevertheless inviting. But your senses came flooding back fast and you pushed yourself away from him.

You stepped back and covered your burning lips with your hand. “Oh my... I’m- I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have. Fuck I’m terrible.”

“Y/n-”

“No, I can’t do this. I have to go.” You cut him off as you began to move to the door, tears forming in your eyes.

The last thing you heard was Regulus calling your name before you ran down to your dorm.

~~~

April 23, 1978

He was watching you. You could feel his eyes burning into you through every class and meal. Is that how he felt all those times you’d stared at him? It was uncomfortable, to say the least. You tried to pretend he wasn’t, you really did. But it was nearly impossible. You made sure you were accompanied by Sirius or one of your other friends throughout the entire day until you weren’t.

You were just running to the bathroom. You thought it would be quick enough for him to even notice you slipped out of class. It was stupid of you to think that. Just as you were about to enter the girl's bathroom, you felt a hand grab one of your wrists to stop you.

“You can’t avoid this y/n,” he said softly.

You inhaled sharply, refusing to look at him. “Let me go Regulus.”

“I don’t care about what happened and I’m not going to tell on you if that’s what you’re worried about,” he replied quickly.

“Then what do you want? I just- it was a mistake all right?” You felt your heart pounding in your chest. His hand was still on your wrist, your skin practically burned from the contact.

“Look at me.” His voice was hard. You turned slowly to look at him. His expression was soft, he looked almost... worried. “I know we’ve never been that close, but I suppose I’m now involved in your issues. You can talk to me; I want you to talk to me. You can’t keep all of whatever you’re feeling built up inside. It’ll only make you act out impulsively like yesterday.”

You let out a shaky breath. “It was a mistake. It should have never happened I was just... overwhelmed.”

“I know. And I don’t blame you.”

You hated how he said just the right words to make you fold completely.

“They don’t trust me. Even your brother. They seem to think I have some deep plot or that I want to murder the muggle-borns. It’s just... it’s too much Reg. I hate being constantly watched, it’s like they’re waiting for me to make a wrong move that proves their theories.”

“So, why don’t you leave?”

His question caught you off guard. Why didn’t you leave? You hadn’t really thought about it. Sure, you knew that you and Sirius were going to end eventually. But you hadn’t given much thought to how it would occur. Perhaps a mutual agreement? You didn’t know. And you told Regulus exactly that.

“Well, then it’s your fault you feel this way,” he replied.

You scoffed and pulled your wrist from his grip. “Thanks, Reg, you really know how to cheer a girl up.”

“Do you want me to lie and say it’s not your fault? Sorry, I’ll give it another go. It’s not your fault at all y/n, you’re being forced to be around my blood-traitor brother and all his mud-blood friends.” His voice was cold, but for some reason, it didn’t make you feel small. “Was that better?”

“Listen I know I have the choice but it’s just... it’s hard when you care about someone,” you said, ignoring his question.

He sighed and shook his head. “If leaving isn’t what you plan on, then I suppose you’ll have to settle on talking to Sirius about how you feel. I assume you haven’t done that yet?” You shook your head, and he rolled his eyes. “Then talk to him and see if maybe that helps.”

“But what if-”

“If he reacts badly then you break up with him, it’s not that hard to comprehend y/n. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to return to our class, so no one gets any more suspicious.” He cut you off.

You were left outside the girl's bathroom with your mind racing, and your wrist still tingling where Regulus had held it.

~~~

April 25, 1978

It took you over a day to muster up the courage to follow through with Regulus’s suggestion. No wonder you weren’t in Gryffindor. The opportunity for you to speak with Sirius alone came after lunch when the two of you had a free period. As usual, you spent most of the time up in Sirius’s bed. So, as the two of you laid next to each other, spent from another good time, you decided it was a good time to bring up how you felt.

“Sirius,” you spoke softly. Your head was on his chest, your fingers drawing circles on his skin. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“’ Course love, anything,” he replied sweetly.

You inhaled deeply and kept your head down. “We’ve been seeing each other for a decent amount of time now and I’ve enjoyed it very much, but it’s just...” You swallowed. “Your friends... they don’t accept me.”

“How do you mean?”

“Come on, don’t you see how they treat me? They always give me these looks; they whisper about me. I’m sure they’ve all voiced their concern about me to you,” you answered.

“They don’t mean it to make you feel bad, they just you know... Lily is muggle-born, and so is Mary.”

“I’m aware of that. That has nothing to do with me, you should know I don’t care about blood status.”

“Well yes but your house, the people you are friends with, they care. You can’t blame my friends for being weary.”

You sat up and looked at Sirius, suddenly full of anger. “I am not like the other people in my house, and it’s hypocritical for them to judge me based on that. Have I ever proven myself to be anything like the other Slytherins?”

“No, but-”

“But nothing Sirius. I’m not like them, and it hurts that you don’t even bother to make your friends believe that.” You cut him off. You got off his bed and began to gather your clothes. “It’s clear I’m not welcome here.”

“Y/n-”

You began to button your shirt. “No Sirius it’s fine, I understand. I thought you Gryffindors were supposed to be welcoming, I suppose that assumption was wrong too.”

Just as you were about to bend down to retrieve your tie, you felt Sirius’s warm hands on your hips. Instinctively, you turned to look at him. He stared up at you with a frown on his face. You hated how perfect he still looked with such a sour expression.

“You’re right, I should advocate for you more. I’ll do that from now on. You are nothing like the other Slytherins, you’re perfect y/n. I’m sorry for not catching on to this sooner.” His words were sincere, you could tell. It made your anger subside.

“Thank you,” you said, a small smile on your lips.

“Now, can you get back into bed for a little longer?” He asked.

You nodded with a chuckle and slid back beneath the sheets. Though you felt relieved and happy at the outcome of your conversation, you couldn’t help but think about what Regulus’s reaction to the news would be.

For some reason, you knew he wouldn’t be pleased.

~~~

April 26, 1978

His eyes searched your face; you tried your hardest to keep your expression neutral. The two of you were up in the astronomy tower, the glow of the moon and stars your only source of light. You didn’t know why you felt almost ashamed telling him about the conversation you had with Sirius. Something deep within you knew the outcome wasn’t what the younger Black brother wanted.

“I’m a bit confused,” he said after a moment of silence.

“What about?”

“If the conversation truly went as you say it did, why aren’t you happy?”

“What do you mean? I am happy. I think I even saw a bit of improvement today,” you answered honestly.

Regulus only shrugged and turned to look off the balcony. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“I really am happy Reg this is what I wanted. Now they won’t be so judgmental and perhaps I’ll start to finally feel welcomed,” you replied.

You stared at him for a minute. The soft glow of the moonlight illuminated his features in a way you’d never seen before. He was handsome. With his sharp jawline, his dark curly hair, and his prominent cheekbones how could he not be handsome?

Eventually, he turned his eyes back to you, and for a split second, your breath caught in your throat. There was something intense in his light eyes that you couldn’t decode. It made heat rush straight to your face.

“All right, if that’s what you want,” he said. “See you around.”

With that, he left. And you almost followed him, almost.

~~~

April 27, 1978

Something was wrong with you. Very wrong.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the one boy in Hogwarts you really shouldn’t have been thinking about. It was wrong, especially in the way you were thinking about him. You tried to distract yourself in every way you could. With your friends, with Sirius, with schoolwork. But nothing worked.

Perhaps it was the intense dream you’d had the previous night that kept your mind wandering. After all, who could simply brush off an intense sexual dream about their boyfriend's brother? It made you blush and feel ashamed each time it crossed your mind throughout the day. And when you saw Regulus around the school, you almost fell apart.

It was as though a switch had been flipped inside you. Gone were the innocent friendly thoughts you had about the younger Black brother. They were replaced by awfully inappropriate ones.

But you were determined to make them vanish. Because to act on such thoughts would be terrible.

Right?

~~~

April 28, 1978

Avoiding Regulus was hard given he was in almost all your classes, and he shared the same common room as you. But you tried your hardest. You spent the day clung to Sirius as much as you could, despite the fact you were upset with him. Being around him meant being away from his brother. That was the important thing.

Things between you and Sirius’s friends had not changed much. You wondered if he had even said anything to them. If he did, it didn’t seem like it. It hurt you, but it didn’t occupy your thoughts as much as it previously had.

Actually, it made you realize something you were too afraid to admit.

Regulus seemed to care more about your feelings than your boyfriend.

That thought scared you. And it only made your improper thoughts about him grow.

~~~

April 29, 1978

You sat up in the Astronomy tower with your legs dangling off the balcony, a bottle of firewhiskey beside you. For the first time in months, you couldn’t deal with your thoughts without a substance. Luckily your boyfriend had a stash of alcohol and was able to spare you a small bottle. So, you took it with a big thank you and practically ran up to the tower. You needed to clear your head. You needed to escape.

There was a slight breeze, it made you clutch your robe tighter around your body. The alcohol helped too. You took another swig, a sigh escaping your lips at the feeling. You liked the way it made your chest warm, and how it made the thoughts of Regulus fade.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps. You gathered the bottle into your robe but remained seated. Whoever it was, they’d catch you anyway. There weren’t many hiding spaces in the tower. So, you prepared for an angry Filch to scold you.

“I figured you’d be up here, your roommates said they hadn’t seen you, neither did my brother.” The gentle voice of the boy you were trying to avoid spoke.

You whipped your head around fast, your mouth hung open slightly. He was only a few feet away from you, and still getting closer. “You talked to him about me?”

“Told him we have a project together and he still wasn’t very welcoming. I see why you feel out of place now,” he answered as he lowered himself to sit beside you. “Care to share any of that with me?”

“Since when do you drink Mr. Prefect?” You questioned skeptically.

He shrugged. “I’ve indulged before, is that surprising? I am almost of age you know.”

“You just don’t seem like the type that’s all,” you replied honestly. You removed the bottle from under your robe and handed it to him. “I’m a bit ahead of you though.”

Regulus didn’t reply. Instead, he popped the cap off the bottle and took a few swigs. You watched carefully, unable to hide your smile when his face scrunched up from the bitterness. Even then, he was still beautiful.

“Wine is much better than this,” he said after a minute as he handed the bottle back to you.

You nodded. “Taste wise, yes, but this gets you drunk much faster.”

“Is that what you want? To get drunk?”

You nodded again and took a swig from the bottle. He had a point, firewhiskey tasted awful. But you needed it, especially since Regulus had caught you alone and even more because he looked far too good in the moonlight.

“I thought things were going to get better with my brother,” he spoke.

“I thought so too but it seems he isn’t good at keeping his word,” you replied with a frown.

Regulus chuckled and took the bottle again. “Well look at him, he’s a filthy blood traitor, what do you see in him?”

“He’s kind, outgoing, very fun to party with, and of course one of the most handsome boys in the school,” you answered. You couldn’t help but smile when Regulus rolled his eyes. “None of that matters though. We’ll be splitting up soon.”

“Yeah?”

The hope in his voice was undeniable. It made your heart rate quicken.

“Yeah. He’ll be leaving school soon and we never really planned to last this long anyway so it only makes sense that we’ll be splitting.”

As he handed you the bottle back, your fingers brushed. You held in your breath, your mouth suddenly felt dry, and a tingle began in the small place where his skin met yours. Your eyes met again and from the way his starry eyes suddenly appeared darker you knew he felt what you did.

You should’ve looked away. You knew you should’ve. You’d like to blame the alcohol for the way you felt, but Regulus Black had proven himself to be more magnetic than any boy you’d ever met so there was no use excusing it. So, despite the fact it was wrong, you didn’t move when he started to lean closer.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, his voice quieter than before.

“I’m sure you are,” you replied. He was close, his lips only inches away from yours.

“Why’s that?” He asked.

His eyes were so beautiful, you could barely focus on the words that came out of his mouth. “Because you...”

Your eyes fluttered shut and you felt his soft lips brush against yours. He was so gentle; you could barely even feel him. And after only a few seconds he pulled back. Your eyes remained closed.

“Because I’m...?”

“Reg, don’t make me ask you.”

“Oh, but I want to hear it so bad.”

“Just shut up and kiss me already.”

He didn’t hesitate to fulfill your request and soon enough he was kissing you with an intensity you weren’t sure you ever felt before. One of his hands fell to your waist, his fingers quickly untucking your shirt from your skirt. You let your fingers run through his curls as you’d imagined doing so many times over the previous days.

When he pushed you back and urged you to lie down, you did it. When he pushed your knees apart and slid between your legs you didn’t protest. It was terrible, you were cheating on your boyfriend with his little brother. But at that moment no thoughts could even register in your head. All you could think about was how good Regulus’s body felt against yours and how good he was at kissing.

Perhaps things moved faster than they should’ve. Perhaps they should’ve never moved in that direction to begin with. Either way, within only a few minutes both of your robes were discarded and one of Regulus’s hands was between your thighs. His lips remained on yours as he toyed with you, his soft kiss engulfed each of your moans. You traced your fingertips up and down his back, your hand under his shirt. He was soft but rough, he was perfect.

“I want you,” he suddenly whispered against your lips.

Your eyes opened, he pulled back a bit, and your eyes met his. He didn’t stop his fingers; you could barely think of what to say. “I want you too Reg.”

“Right now?” He asked.

“Right now,” you assured him breathlessly.

You watched him fumble with his belt for a few seconds before he distracted you with another kiss. He was intoxicating, to say the least. Every one of your senses was flooded with Regulus Black. The scent of his cologne, the feeling of his hands under your skirt, the taste of the firewhiskey he’d previously drank, the sound of his shallow breath, the brief glimpses you stole of his pretty face, it was almost too much for you to handle.

Once his belt was finally undone you felt him shift and you knew what was to come. You didn’t think of stopping him for a second. Instead, you threaded your fingers back in his black curls and held him tighter. He pushed your panties to the side and without warning began to slowly push his cock inside you.

You bit down on his lip, your back arched off the floor, and your thighs squeezed around him. He didn’t stutter with his movements and began to thrust in and out at a pace that made your head spin and your insides warm.

After a few minutes, he began to trail his mouth down your neck, the sensation making it impossible for you to stay quiet. You gripped one of his biceps with your hand and your eyes squeezed shut as he fucked you. He was careful despite the heat of the moment, however. You were silently grateful. No marks would be left on your skin.

“Reg,” you moaned. “Fuck Reg.”

He staggered for a moment. “Are you okay?” The vibration of his voice on your skin made you almost moan again.

“Yes, yes. Please don’t stop,” you whimpered.

It would be impossible for you to know exactly how long it went on. But by the time it was over, you felt no effects from the alcohol you’d drank before. You came hard, arguably harder than you’d ever come in your life. Regulus did something to you that you couldn’t understand. So, when he asked if it was ok for him to finish inside you said yes.

The two of you laid next to each other in the aftermath, a few inches between your bodies. Sweat covered the inside of your shirt, and another substance leaked between your thighs. You only stared at the ceiling and the stars above as you steadied your breathing.

“I won’t tell,” Regulus said after some time.

“Thank you,” you replied quietly. You were still in a daze; your mind couldn’t process what had just occurred. You sat up, your back was already starting to ache. “I should go.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Regulus sit up too. “Yeah, you should.”

You slid your robe over your arms and straightened out your tie and shirt. Before you stood, you made sure to grab the bottle of firewhiskey and conceal it under your clothes. You looked down at Regulus briefly, he was already looking at you. It made your face heat up.

You gave him a weak smile. “I’ll um... I’ll see you tomorrow then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You escaped before anything else could be said and raced down to your dorm.

The whole night you tossed and turned in bed, your head full of thoughts that would not let you sleep. You cheated on Sirius. With his brother. It was almost unimaginable. You’d never thought of cheating before, it never crossed your mind. But there you were a cheater.

You just hoped Sirius wouldn’t ask where you were on April 29th.

Because he really wouldn’t want to know.

[morganbritton132]

Next week Nancy posts a tik tok of Eddie in one of these tents at the soccer game. He couldn’t handle all the bugs so he bought one of these and a fancy fan to keep him cool. She pans to Eddie who is just flipping off the camera

It builds up to the tent.

It first starts with Eddie posting a TikTok complaining about the mosquitos like, I thought we were killing this planet. Why are these fuckers out in droves?? Followed by another TikTok of Eddie shaming Steve after a game for not being sympathetic enough about the literal vampire attack he survived.

Steve, literally applying calamine lotion to his bites, “You’re fine.”

“They stole my blood!” Eddie exclaims. “Look how pale I am!”

“You’re always this pale.”

“I’ve been bitten less by bats.”

And you know what? Eddie was just going to suck it up. He was going to just sit there and endure in order to support his husband and his wildest jock endeavors, and not just because Nancy’s been roasting the shit out of him every Saturday for the last three weeks, but then. Then he got bit on the ass.

He has a mosquito bite on his ass. How???

So, he furiously drives to a sporting goods store and buys himself a little tent. He throws in a portable fan and even buys a new cooler, and it’s great. It’s 10/10, definitely improved the whole situation now that he’s not being eaten alive again. Nancy can laugh all she wants with her frizzy hair, he doesn’t care.

“POV,” Nancy says in a mockup of Eddie’s TikTok voice. He looks up from his phone and gives her the most unimpressed look. “When people think you’re a Satan-worshipping cult leader but in reality, you’re just a little bitch that can’t handle the outdoors.”

She looks away from the camera and smiles at him. Eddie doesn’t say anything, just flips her off.

Later, Nancy posts another TikTok of Robin talking about her game-winning goal. Meanwhile, in the background, Steve gives Eddie a kiss through the netting of his tent.

[universefcb]

Hiii, could you do a longer hector fort fic with reader who is insecure about her curly/wavy hair. She straightens it or does blowouts to hide it, but it ends up raining, and her hair gets wet and turns curly/wavy, and he thinks it's so pretty and doesn't understand why she would be insecure about it. I love your work sm boo if you don't want to do it that is totally okay. (This is something I really struggle with, and I just started wearing my natural hair again after straightening it almost every day)

HAIR OF THE GODS, HECTOR FORT.

→ Pairing: Hector Fort X fem!reader

→ Warning: Mention of Reader. Fluff, confort.

→ Author's note: I LOVE HIM

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

It was the third time you had fixed your hair in the reflection of the bakery window. Your straight strands, falling over your shoulders, were perfectly brushed—the result of almost an hour in front of the mirror, hiding any trace of what really existed underneath. Ever since you were little, that had become your routine: keeping your hair under control, avoiding curls, waves, whatever you were once told was ugly, messy, 'awkward'.

You couldn't quite pinpoint when you first started feeling self-conscious about your hair. Maybe it was when the other girls at school were complimenting you on your straight, 'princess-like' hair, while yours was called 'wild'. Or maybe it was when a boy, not unkindly, commented that your hair looked too 'frizzy'. You smiled at the time, but you never forgot it.

That day, however, there was another reason to worry. You were going out with Héctor, and the Barcelona sky seemed to want to test you. The gray clouds threatened to collapse at any moment. You pretended not to care, but your heart had been beating restlessly since you set foot outside the house. With each step, the memory of the water wetting your hair and revealing its natural texture became more real. And you didn't know if you could handle it. Especially with him by your side.

“You’re being strangely quiet today,” Héctor commented, glancing sideways at you as you walked together to the café you’d agreed to visit days ago. His hand was clasped in yours, warm, secure. His touch was light but constant, as if he wanted to make sure you were there with him the whole time.

You took a deep breath and replied, without much conviction:

“I’m thinking. Random things, you know?”

“Like what?”

You shrugged, trying to push the thoughts away.

"Nothing else."

But it was all there was to it. It was the fear that he would see a part of you that you had learned to hide. It was the subtle panic that you didn’t look as pretty as you wanted to. It was the insecurity of someone who had, for years, learned to mold herself to be accepted—even by herself.

The café was small and cozy, with lights hanging from the ceiling and the scent of melted chocolate in the air. Héctor held the door open for you to enter first, smiling with those dark, gentle eyes. He always did that—he treated you with such care that sometimes it felt like he knew what was going on inside you, even without you saying it.

You sat at the table near the window. The rain hadn't started yet, but the sky hung heavy like a silent warning.

“Do you want the usual?” he asked, already getting up to go to the counter.

“I want some tea today.”

He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Tea?"

You nodded, forcing a small smile.

“I’m trying to look more... light today.”

He chuckled softly, but didn't comment. He just nodded and went to get the orders. As he walked away, you took out your phone and opened the front camera. Surreptitiously, you checked your hair. Still straight. Still in place. Still 'controlled'. But the air was humid. You knew it was only a matter of time.

When he came back, bringing your tea and hot chocolate, you started talking like you always did. With Héctor, time passed in a strange way—fast and yet full of details. He talked about training, about the coach, about how he had slightly hurt his ankle, but nothing serious. You laughed, made jokes, and little by little you even forgot about your anxiety. Almost.

It was only when the thunder echoed outside that the fear returned with a vengeance. You turned your face to the window and saw the first drops falling, thick and sparse, as if the sky was still deciding whether it was going to collapse completely.

“Shit,” you muttered.

“What is it?” he asked, frowning.

“I forgot my umbrella.”

He shrugged, calm as ever.

“We can wait until it passes. Or... if you want, I'll run with you to the car.”

You thought about agreeing to wait. But he had an appointment later—a meeting at the club, something he couldn't miss. You didn't want to get in the way. You didn't want to be the one who was 'the troublemaker.'

“Come on. It’s okay.”

He hesitated for a second, but then nodded, standing up. As they left the café, the sound of the rain grew louder. He took off his coat and tried to cover you, but the drops had already decided what they were going to do. They fell in a rush, soaking your shoulders, your arms... and your hair.

At first, you tried not to think about it. You just ran with him, laughing nervously as you crossed the street and got into the car. But there, under the small space, panting, you felt it.

He felt the roots getting wet, the strands shrinking little by little. The waves taking shape. And shame tightened his chest.

You turned your face away.

“Don’t look at me, please.”

“What?” he asked, confused, trying to understand what had just happened. “Why?”

“I look... ridiculous,” you whispered, your gaze fixed on the floor of the car. Your voice barely came out.

“Ridiculous?” he repeated, as if the word was too offensive to come out of his mouth.

You closed your eyes for a moment. It was hard to say it out loud, but you had to.

“My hair is becoming what it really is. Curly... or wavy, I don't know. I spend my whole life trying to hide it. I brush it every day. I can't stand it looking like this. People always told me it was ugly, that it gave too much volume, that it looked unkempt. So, I straighten it. I always have. Because it's easier to be pretty like this. It's easier to be accepted.”

Héctor didn't answer right away. The silence was so deep that you thought about running away, running away, hiding. But then he pulled your chin with the tip of his finger, making you look at him, and looking at you as if you were seeing him for the first time.

“But he’s so handsome,” he said, his voice low, sincere, without hesitation. He ran his finger down her wet cheek.

You widened your eyes in surprise.

“Are you kidding?”

“Why would I joke about that?”

You laughed humorlessly, turning your face away.

“No one has ever found it beautiful. I’ve heard so many things... and I ended up believing it. I hide it every day. No matter how hard I try, it never feels right to show it like this.”

“That’s not true,” he said firmly, but with a calm gaze that held you in place. “You’re beautiful. With whatever hair you want. But this… this is your hair. It’s part of who you are. And I love seeing who you really are.”

You wanted to answer, but your throat tightened. He reached out carefully, and you didn't even realize you were shaking until you felt his fingers grip your chin and lift your face.

“Look at me,” he asked.

You obeyed. He was there, so close, his hair was also a little wet, some curly strands falling on his forehead. His brown eyes fixed on yours.

“There is nothing about you that needs to be hidden. Least of all this.”

You blinked a few times, trying not to cry. He smiled, and it was a small smile, but full of certainty.

“Promise me something?”

"What?"

“Promise me that one day you will try to see yourself the way I do?”

“And how do you see me?”

“Amazing. Strong. Beautiful. With the most beautiful hair in the world, but most importantly, with it being ours alone.”

You didn't answer right away. You just stood there, letting that moment wash over you. And, as strange as it seemed, for the first time you didn't want to run.

“Ours?” She asked embarrassedly.

“Yeah…” he looked at her lips, and smiled before placing his lips together.

You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling on the small strands there, making him sigh. His long fingers wrapped around your hair, pulling your head back slightly to separate your lips.

“And you know... I love pulling them at night.” He smiled sideways.

“Hector!” She slapped his arm lightly, smiling breathlessly.

Later, at home, you opened your phone's camera. Your hair was already starting to dry, forming waves and curls as it naturally did. You almost ran to get the brush. Almost.

But then you remembered the look in his eyes. The way he said he saw you. And, even though you weren’t sure if you were ready, you looked at yourself for a second longer. Then, you took out your phone and opened the selfie he had insisted on taking at the station.

You were shy, your hair already gaining volume, but he smiled as if you were the most beautiful thing in the world.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[bnny0rgnz]

The Wayne Effect

I’ve learned three things while living in Wayne Manor:

Bruce is a very busy man, so he doesn’t have time to talk to me.

Bruce forgets about the promises or plans he makes with me.

I have an older brother. The only thing is, he isn’t my biological brother—but I’m fine with that.

My first encounter with my older brother was better than my first encounter with Bruce. Dick actually spoke to me, but he was awkward. He smiled at me—unlike Bruce. He shook my hand—unlike Bruce. And he said goodbye—unlike Bruce.

So why am I still invisible to both of them now?

Dick once promised he’d play a game with me to get to know me better, but he always forgot. "How about another time, yeah?" he’d say before disappearing again.

He forgets my name, the name Bruce gave me. How shocking. No matter how many times I try, he forgets about me. It must be because he’s busy, like Bruce. Or maybe... he has short-term memory loss.

I’d like to add something else to my list: 4. Dick has short-term memory loss and doesn’t know it.

Coldness wrapped around me as I stirred in my sleep. Whispers slithered into my ears. I gripped the covers, pulling them tighter around me as the darkness thickened. Then, I felt it—an eerie weight pressing down on me.

(Y/n...)

A whisper. My body stiffened.

(Wake up.)

My vision blurred as I forced my eyes open. A shadow hovered above me.

My mother.

(It’s me, your mother.)

I whimpered. My body wouldn’t move. The room darkened as she drifted closer, an eerie grin spreading across her lips. A single tear slipped down my cheek.

(Oh, you poor thing. Sweet, mourning lamb.)

Cold fingers traced my hair, brushing my cheek. I wanted to speak, to scream—but no words came out.

(Stop... this isn’t real. You’re dead.)

The air turned ice-cold. My mother’s voice became a cruel, lilting laugh.

(There’s nothing you can do.)

Her hands reached for my throat.

"STOP!"

I jolted awake, panting. The light from my curtains cut through the darkness. My hands trembled as I wiped the cold sweat from my forehead.

"It was just a bad dream," I whispered to myself, though my heart pounded against my ribs.

A knock at the door.

"Master Y/n, are you awake? It’s time for breakfast," Alfred’s calm voice called.

"Uh… yeah. I’ll be down in a bit."

I threw the blanket off and sat at my vanity. Grabbing a brush, I ran it through my hair, replaying a voice from the past.

"Always brush your hair when you wake up, after lunch, and before bed. This keeps it from getting frizzy. Never cut it. It must stay long. Do you hear me?"

I stayed silent. My mother’s fingers twisted into my hair, yanking my head back.

"I said, do you hear me?"

"Yes, Mother. I understand."

"Good. You must always listen to your mother."

I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking the memory away. Voices echoed from downstairs—Dick, sounding excited. Bruce, uncharacteristically calm.

A new voice.

I stepped out of my room and walked downstairs. There, standing between Bruce and Dick, was a boy.

Jason Todd.

My new brother.

Jason was the best thing that ever happened to me at Wayne Manor. He acknowledged me. He made time for me, even when he was busy training. He played games with me, helped me with my homework, and read books with me.

One day, while we were out, we passed a streetlamp with a paper taped to it—a flyer for a ballet academy. Jason saw my interest and tore the number from the bottom.

Ever since then, I have attended ballet classes. I invited Bruce and Dick to my first recital, but they declined. Jason would’ve come, but it was his first night patrolling the city as Robin. Alfred recorded the recital for them, but no one ever watched it.

Then, Jason died.

The Joker killed him.

My world shattered. I cried myself to sleep every night. I waited up, hoping he'd come home—but he never did. Bruce locked himself away in his study, refusing to eat.

I prayed for Jason to come back. He never did.

A year passed. Jason returned—but he wasn’t Jason anymore. He ignored me, grunting whenever I spoke to him.

More people came into the house. More brothers. More family. More people who didn’t see me.

Dick forgot me completely. Bruce never acknowledged me. Cassandra didn’t talk to me. Damian insulted me. Jason ignored me. Stephanie was awkward around me but lively with everyone else. Barbara scoffed at me and walked away.

Wayne Manor wasn’t home. It never had been.

I hate it here. I’m not wanted here. I don’t belong here. What’s the point of me being here?

I sat alone in the living room, lost in thought. Then—

A knock on the door.

I blinked. Alfred wasn’t around, so I answered it myself.

A beautiful woman stood in the doorway.

"Wow… It’s you."

She smiled warmly. "Oh, hello. Y/n, right?"

She remembered my name.

"I believe we met last week when I came over."

I stared.

"You remember my name?"

"Of course. Why wouldn’t I?" she asked, stepping inside and removing her coat.

No one ever remembered me. Not like this.

"Say… I don’t think I gave you my name," she mused, adjusting her glasses.

"No, you didn’t," I admitted.

"Well, my name is Vivienne Heartland—but you can call me Vivi."

She reached out, softly patting my head.

"Hello, Vivi. You’re pretty."

The words tumbled out before I could stop them. My eyes widened, and I slapped a hand over my mouth.

Vivienne laughed. "Aww, that’s sweet. I appreciate the compliment. I guess it’s like the old saying—‘Pretty knows pretty.’"

I flushed.

"Is your dad around?" she asked. "I need to talk to him about something important. I tried calling him from the office, but he won’t pick up."

"Yes, he’s in his study."

"Thanks. See you around, Y/n."

Vivienne walked down the hall, her presence lingering like a warm ember in the cold house.

And for the first time in a long time—

I felt seen.

______________________________________________________________

A/N: Sorry this sucks guys, was really busy today!

[hailthegodsong]

CURLS

Two-Shot Part 1 ~ Danny Wagner x Female Reader ༘

Summary: Danny teaches you that your hair isn’t just chronically frizzy, it’s curly, and he wants to prove it to you by pampering you with his curly routine. Plus some bonus hot needy sex at the end cause I couldn’t help myself.

Word Count: + 7.8k

Content Warnings: flirting, teasing, kissing, just fluff for the whole first half, swearing, not-so-innocent touches eg butt slaps and grabs, SMUT 18+ INCLUDING: dirty talk, grinding, riding, hair pulling, unprotected p in v, brief nipple stuff.

༘

You gripped your brush like it was a weapon in a long-fought battle. The bristles dragged through your wavy hair, making it puffier, frizzier, more stubborn than before. With an exasperated sigh, you dropped the brush onto the counter and pressed your hands over the unruly strands, trying to flatten them. Of course, it didn’t work. It never did.

A huff escaped your lips, frustration buzzing at your skin. Why couldn’t it just behave?

You could feel Danny’s presence before he even touched you. A shift in the air, a warmth at your back. Then, his arms snaked around your waist, his body molding against yours as he pressed a lazy, affectionate kiss to the crown of your head.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice thick with that soft wamrth he always carried. But he noticed your frown in the mirror. His brows pinched slightly, concern flickering in his deep brown eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You sighed, meeting his gaze in the reflection. “My hair won’t cooperate,” you muttered, running your hands through the waves again, trying to smooth them down. “It just keeps frizzing up, no matter what I do.”

Danny hummed, resting his chin on the top of your head as his hands slid up to cradle your waist. Then, he reached up, fingers gliding gently over the waves you were so desperately trying to tame.

“I think your hair is beautiful,” he said softly, his tone so earnest it almost made you want to believe him. Almost.

But you shook your head, lips pressing into a thin line. “You’re just saying that.”

His gaze softened even more, and you felt him watching you, taking in the way your shoulders slumped, the way your lips curved down in frustration. He hated seeing you like this— hated knowing that something as simple as your hair was making you feel this way.

“How come you dont ever just embrace your curls?” he asked gently. He ran his fingers through a lock of your hair, twisting it slightly between his thumb and forefinger. “You know, mine used to be fluffy too when I brushed them out like you do.”

That made you pause. You glanced at his reflection in the mirror, looking over his tight, perfect curls that you had always loved so much. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah. If I dragged a brush through it dry, it’d be a frizzed-out mess.” He chuckled, rubbing a hand over his own hair like he was remembering. “Our curls would probably be pretty similar if you let yours be.”

You shook your head, still staring at your reflection, still pressing your hands down over your hair as if sheer force of will could make it lie flat. “No, I’ve never had curly hair. It’s just wavy. And fluffy.”

Danny tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “Yes you do,” he stated matter-of-factly. 

“I never have, Danny,” you assured. 

 “Really?” There was something teasing in his voice, but it was undercut with curiosity, like he was genuinely surprised. “Cause I could’ve sworn I’ve seen your hair hold a ringlet after a day at the beach.”

You frowned slightly, thinking back, but before you could argue, he was already on a mission. His fingers combed gently through your hair, gathering a section from underneath, where it was even more unruly than the rest. You didn’t fight him, just watched in the mirror as he examined it with a quiet sort of fascination.

“This part’s extra frizzy,” he mused, almost to himself. Then, with practiced ease, he twirled the strands around his fingers, gathering a weak and frizzy but undeniable ringlet. His eyes flicked back to yours in the reflection, and he grinned. “See?”

Your lips parted slightly, and for a second, you were at a loss. That… that was unexpected. You glanced down at the little curl, barely clinging to its shape before it fell apart again.

“I thought you knew you had curly hair,” Danny continued, still holding the section, amused but not mocking. “Just figured you didn’t like it or something.”

You hesitated, a little uncertain, a little thrown. “I still don’t know if I do,” you admitted. “It’s just wavy. And fluffy,” you repeated.

Danny hummed thoughtfully, running his fingers through another section of your hair, twisting it again like he was testing a theory. Then, his expression shifted into something almost mischievous, his hands sliding to your shoulders.

“What if I do my curl routine on you?”

You blinked. “Your curl routine?”

“Yeah,” he grinned, already excited about the idea. “The whole thing. Washing, conditioning, products, scrunching, the works. Just once. See what happens.”

You hesitated again, eyeing him in the mirror. His curls always looked so perfect, soft, defined, not a single one out of place. If anyone knew what they were doing, it was him.

“…And if it turns out bad?” you asked cautiously.

Danny just smirked. “Then I’ll personally brush it out for you and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

You exhaled a laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re avoiding the question.” He squeezed your shoulders, rocking you gently. “C’mon. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You hesitated, watching him in the mirror as he patiently waited for your answer, his hands still resting on your shoulders. The warmth of his touch was grounding, but your doubt lingered. You reached back, fingers threading through his curls, the ones you had always admired— tight, perfect, springy. Nothing like yours.

“But my hair is nowhere near as curly as yours,” you murmured, twisting a lock of his hair gently between your fingers. “What if you’re wrong? What if it doesn’t work and I’d gotten my hopes up for nothing? I’ll just be… fatefully fluffy forever.”

Danny chuckled, dipping his head to press a soft kiss against your temple. “Fatefully fluffy, huh?” His voice was teasing, but his hands slid down your arms, reassuring, as if he could sense how much this actually mattered to you. “Baby, I’m not wrong.”

You sighed, your fingers still lazily toying with his curls. “But what if you are?”

His grip on you tightened just a little, like he was making sure you were listening. “Then we’ll laugh about it, and I’ll still think you’re gorgeous. But I really don’t think I'm wrong. I mean, when am I ever?” He joked, nosing into your hair, pressing another slow, lingering kiss into it. “I think you’ve just never seen what your hair can actually do.”

You closed your eyes briefly, leaning into him without meaning to. His hands, warm and steady, skimmed down your waist before settling at your hips, pulling you a little closer against him.

“You trust me?” he murmured.

You huffed, but it was softer this time. “Of course.”

“Then let me prove to you how beautiful your hair is.” Another kiss, this time just behind your ear, and you felt yourself melting a little more. You turned in his arms, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, searching his face. Danny grinned, his nose brushing against yours playfully. “And if you hate it,  I’ll brush it out for you myself. And I’ll kiss your pouty little frown away.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips anyway. His own smile softened at that, like he had already won.

“Okay,” you exhaled. “Do your worst.”

His hands squeezed your waist as his grin turned triumphant. Danny led you to the bathroom, his fingers laced casually with yours, the warmth of his palm familiar and comforting. He was still grinning, clearly pleased with himself for convincing you to go along with this.

“You’re way too excited about this,” you teased as he flipped the bathroom light on.

“Of course I am,” he said, nudging the door closed behind you. “I finally get to see your curls sit freely.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling as he reached into the shower, turning the water on and letting it heat up. He tested the temperature with his hand, adjusting the knobs with the ease of someone who had done this a million times. Then he turned back to you, his expression softening as he watched you.

There was something so warm about the way he looked at you, like he was savoring the moment, like he just enjoyed having you here in this tiny, mundane part of his life. He stepped forward, reaching for the hem of your shirt and tugging it up gently.

“C’mon, clothes off,” he said, waggling his eyebrows. “This is a full-service treatment.”

You laughed, swatting at his chest playfully, but you complied, pulling off your shirt while he did the same. It wasn’t weird and there was nothing inherently sexual about it. You had seen each other like this plenty of times, but tonight, it was just comfortable. Intimate, but not in that way.

Once you were both undressed, he guided you into the shower first, following close behind as the warm water cascaded over your shoulders. You sighed at the sensation, tilting your head back slightly.

“Temperature okay?” he asked, pressing a hand to your back as he stepped under the spray with you.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Perfect.”

Danny hummed, reaching for one of the bottles lined up along the shower shelf. “Okay, so first step’s shampoo. But not just any shampoo. This one’s sulfate-free, super moisturizing, good for keeping curls from drying out.” He wiggled the bottle in front of you before popping the cap and squirting some into his palm. “You ready?”

You arched a brow. “Ready for what?”

He smirked. “To be pampered.”

You snorted, but before you could respond, his hands were in your hair, and— oh.

His fingers worked the shampoo into your scalp, massaging in slow, deliberate circles. His touch was firm, and your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation.

“Mm,” you hummed without meaning to. “That feels… really nice.”

Danny chuckled, his voice lower, closer to your ear. “Told you.”

He kept going, making sure to cover every inch of your scalp, his thumbs pressing into the spots behind your ears, his fingers threading through your hair like he was mapping it out, learning the way it moved. It wasn’t just washing— it was care.

“Do you do the whole routine every time you wash your hair?” you asked after a moment, your voice a little hazy.

“Yeah,” he said, still focused on his task. “Gotta take care of the curls, y’know?”

You hummed again in response, too relaxed to say much more. Danny chuckled, rinsing his hands briefly before tilting your head back under the water, his fingers still sifting through your hair to help rinse the shampoo out.

As the suds washed away, he grabbed his own bottle of shampoo and lathered up his own curls quickly. You watched as he scrubbed at his scalp, eyes lit with eagerness.

You shook your head, smiling. “You really love this stuff.

“Of course,” he said, grinning as he rinsed his own hair. 

After rinsing the soap out, he turned back to you, tilting his head slightly. “You’re so beautiful, my love.”

Your stomach did a little flip at the way he said it, like it was a fact, like there was no room for argument. He reached out, brushing a damp strand away from your face before cupping your cheek. “Even when you doubt it,” he murmured, “I see it.”

Your heart squeezed, and you leaned into his palm, letting your eyes slip shut for a second. When you opened them, Danny was watching you in awe. His hand slipped from your face to your neck, cradling the side of it tenderly. 

You leaned in, tilting your head upward to meet him in a quick, gentle kiss. When your lips met though, he didn't let you retreat right away, deepening the kiss for just a moment. 

Then, because it was Danny, and because he could never resist being a little shit, his hand moved— quick, playful, and entirely too smug as he gave your ass a firm slap.

You yelped, jolting upright, and he chuckled cheekily, wrapping an arm around your waist before you could swat at him. “Danny!”

“What?” he grinned, eyes dancing with mischief. “It was right there.”

“You’re such an ass.”

“Mm, yours is better,” he quipped, squeezing your waist before kissing your temple again, like that somehow canceled out his antics.

Danny grinned, reaching for the shampoo bottle again. “Round two.”

You blinked at him. “Wait, what? We just did this.”

“Yeah, but you gotta shampoo twice,” he explained, squirting more into his palm. “First wash gets rid of all the product and buildup. Second one actually cleans your hair.”

You stared at him, unimpressed. “That feels like a scam.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Trust me, baby, it’s not.” Before you could argue, his hands were in your hair again, massaging the lather into your scalp with the same gentle but firm touch.

And, okay— maybe it did feel even better the second time. His fingers worked through your roots, and you found yourself leaning into the motion, eyes fluttering shut again. Damn if he had a way with his hands. 

“You like it,” Danny teased, voice low and amused.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, and he just laughed, pressing a kiss to your temple before tilting your head back to rinse your hair out again.

Once the last of the suds swirled down the drain, he grabbed the conditioner bottle, squeezing a generous amount into his palm. “Alright, now conditioner,” he said, running his hands through your hair, starting from the middle and working his way down.

“I thought conditioner goes everywhere,” you said, watching him in the dim light of the shower.

“Nah, you don’t wanna put it on your roots,” he explained. “It can weigh your hair down. Focus on the mids and ends where it actually needs moisture.” His fingers glided through your strands, carefully distributing the product. “Your hair is so smooth,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “Way nicer than mine.”

You snorted. “Liar.”

Danny shook his head. “Nope. Yours is softer. I mean, I love my curls, but your hair feels different. Silky.” He smoothed his hands down the length of your hair again, like he was appreciating the texture. “I love it. I’ve always loved it”

You bit the inside of your cheek, warmth blooming in your chest at the way he said it. His voice was so genuine, so full of admiration, like he actually meant it. Like he wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better. He truly, wholeheartedly loved your hair just as it was.

He stepped back under the water to rinse his own hair, and you both fell into easy conversation as you waited for the conditioner to sit.

“How’d you even learn all this?”

Danny grinned. “Trial and error. And a lot of bad hair days.”

You laughed. “What was the worst?”

“Oh, easy. High school. I used to wash my hair with a three-in-one men’s product thing. Body wash, face wash, and shampoo in one. No conditioner, no curl cream, nothing. It was… tragic.”

You giggled, imagining a teenage Danny with a frizzy, undefined mess of curls. “I need to see pictures.”

“Absolutely not,” he said, grinning as he shook his head. “Those are locked away forever.”

Eventually, he reached for the detachable shower head and began rinsing the conditioner out of your hair, making sure to be thorough. “Alright, we’re almost done,” he said. “Just gotta wash up and we’re good.”

You both grabbed your body wash and soaped up, exchanging lazy conversation as you cleaned yourselves off. There was no rush, no awkwardness, just a soft intimacy, like this was something you did all the time.

Once you were both rinsed and the water was turned off, Danny stepped out first, grabbing a towel. He opened it up, holding it out for you with a little grin. “C’mere.”

You stepped into it, and he wrapped you up snugly, his arms staying around you for a second longer than necessary. He pressed another lingering kiss to your temple, murmuring, “All warm?”

You nodded against him. “Mhm.”

Danny grabbed his own towel, and you reached for another that was hung up, instinctively going to wrap it around your head to dry your hair. But before you could twist it up, his hands gently stopped you.

“Ah, aht,” he tutted, shaking his head. “No towel turban.”

You frowned. “Why not?”

He smirked. “Because it’s bad for your curls. Too much friction. We’re doing this the right way, remember?”

You sighed, but his smug little grin was too cute to argue with. “Fine,” you mumbled. “What’s the right way, then?”

His eyes glinted with excitement, throwing his towel over his shoulder and disappearing butt-naked into the bedroom for a moment and returning with a soft cotton T-shirt. He held it up like it was some sacred relic. “This,” he said dramatically, “Is what you use to dry your hair. Not a towel. A T-shirt is way gentler, keeps the frizz down.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re making this up.”

“I would never,” he said, placing a hand over his chest like he was swearing an oath. 

And, speaking of his chest— yeah. You’d been actively trying not to stare, but it was hard when he was standing there, damp and shirtless, his curls dripping slightly as they started to air-dry. His skin was still flushed from the heat of the shower, golden and smooth, and you wanted, so badly, to reach out and—

You did.

Your hand landed on his chest, fingers splaying over his warm skin before you could even think about it. His muscles twitched under your touch, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he smirked, raising a single eyebrow.

“Let’s not get off track,” he murmured, voice amused but thick with something else.

You huffed, reluctantly dragging your hand away. “You’re distracting,” you muttered, eyes raking down his naked body.

Danny chuckled, shaking his head as he gently lifted the T-shirt to your head, patting your hair dry with a careful touch. “I think that’s my line.”

“What? So I’m not allowed to find you irresistibly sexy?” you teased, sneaking your hand around his waist and grabbing a handful of his bare ass. 

He jumped with a yelp at the contact, quickly pulling himself away from your rogue hand. “Alright you little minx, that's enough of that,” he grabbed you by the shoulders and turned you in the direction of the bathroom door. “Off we go to the living room now, before you decide to jump my bones.” 

You giggled, and Danny threw his towel around his waist loosely, shaking his head. He led you into the living room, his hand warm against your back. The apartment felt extra cozy after the heat of the shower, the air slightly cool against your damp skin. You padded across the room, and when you moved to sit on the couch, Danny tugged your wrist.

“Uh-uh,” he said, grinning as he sat down on the couch first. “You sit in front of me.” He grabbed a pillow and threw it into the floor between his open legs.

You sighed dramatically but settled onto the floor, dropping onto the cushion and leaning back against the couch. His thighs bracketed your shoulders, warm and solid, and it was honestly kind of perfect, his presence behind you, the promise of his gentle hands in your hair.

“Alright, baby,” he said, running a towel-dried hand over your damp strands, spreading them out across your back. “Now, listen carefully, because this is the good stuff.”

He reached for the first product. A leave-in conditioner in a sleek bottle. “This is a must,” he said, squirting a generous amount into his palm before rubbing it between his hands. “Adds moisture, keeps your hair soft, and makes sure the curls don’t get all frizzy and dry.”

His fingers glided through your hair, starting from the ends and working up. He was careful, working through any tangles with infinite patience.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he scrunched sections of your hair gently, encouraging the curls to form. You could feel him target small, specific strands, and you stifled a giggle at his dedication. “You’re really taking this seriously,” you murmured, smiling.

“Of course. Gotta make sure you get the full experience.”

He reached for the next bottle, a curl cream, thick and buttery. “This,” he explained, rubbing it between his fingers before raking it through your hair, “Is what really defines the curls. Gives them shape, keeps them soft but structured.”

His fingers were so deliberate, so careful, working the product through each strand like he was sculpting something precious. He gathered small sections, twisting them gently, coaxing each curl into formation.

Music played softly in the background— one of your shared playlists, something mellow and warm. You grabbed a snack from the coffee table, popping it into your mouth before reaching back blindly, pressing another one against Danny’s lips.

He paused for half a second, then grinned against your fingers before taking the bite. “Thanks, angel.”

You hummed contentedly, letting your head tip forward slightly as he continued working. He was so focused, so devoted to making sure each curl was perfect.

“I really hope you like your hair curly,” he murmured after a moment, his hands still moving through your strands.

You blinked, tilting your head slightly. “Why’s that?”

Danny exhaled softly, fingers grazing the nape of your neck. “I always used to wish you’d embrace them,” he admitted, voice warm, careful. “But I didn’t wanna say anything. If I’d known you didn’t even know you had curls, I would’ve mentioned it sooner.”

Your stomach did a little flip at the thought of him caring this much. Of him wanting this for you, wanting you to be happy, but never pushing, never making you feel like you had to change anything about yourself.

“Danny,” you said softly, reaching back to squeeze his knee. “That’s really sweet.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a second. “I just want you to love every part of yourself the way I do.”

You swallowed down the warmth blooming in your chest, feeling impossibly fond of him. “I love you, Danny. You’re too good to me.”

Danny chuckled. “I try, baby. And I love you too.”

He finished defining your curls with ridiculous precision, then quickly worked the same products into his own hair, scrunching and shaping his tight ringlets.

When he was done, he leaned back against the couch with a satisfied sigh, hands resting on your shoulders. “Alright, now we let it air dry,” he announced. “No touching, no messing with it.”

You glanced up at him, playfully skeptical. “Can I go look in the mirror? Is it curly yet?”

“No, not yet. Wait till it's dry before you look at them. The grand reveal,” he dramatised. 

You rolled your eyes, “Ugh, you’re too into this.”

Danny grinned, squeezing your shoulders. “Damn right I am. And you’re gonna thank me when you see how gorgeous your curls look.”

You smiled, feeling impossibly warm wrapped in the safety of his words, the affection in his voice, and the knowledge that he loved every part of you, even the parts you were still learning to love yourself.

Danny stretched, then tugged you up by the hands, pulling you to your feet effortlessly. “Alright, angel, let’s make some dinner.”

You groaned playfully, leaning into him. “Do we have to? Can’t we just order in?”

He grinned, wrapping his arms around you in a lazy hug. “If only. But, if it helps, I promise to be a very hands-on cooking partner.” His voice dropped slightly, teasing. “Lots of assistance. Lots of… encouragement.”

You rolled your eyes, but you were already smiling. “Fine, but only because I love you.”

He smirked. “Damn right you do.”

Together, you shuffled into the bedroom and threw on some comfortable clothes, before making your way to the kitchen, somehow still wrapped up in each other. Danny took the lead, rifling through the fridge as he hummed under his breath, while you leaned against the counter, watching him with open fondness.

Eventually, you settled on something simple— pasta with a quick homemade sauce. He stood behind you as you chopped ingredients, hands skimming your waist, lips brushing your shoulder. “You’re so good at this,” he murmured, voice warm.

You scoffed, though your cheeks warmed at the attention. “I’m literally just cutting a tomato.”

“Mmm.” His hands squeezed your hips gently. “Still, you make it look cute… sexy.”

“That's the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” you joked, rolling your eyes, but leaning into his touch nonetheless. 

He kept his promise of being a “hands-on” cooking partner, taking every opportunity to touch you. His fingers would brush over yours when he passed you the salt, his palm splayed against your back when he reached for something overhead, a lingering kiss pressed behind your ear as he stirred the pasta.

“You’re not actually helping,” you teased, swatting at him when he leaned into you again.

He grinned. “Moral support.”

By the time you were plating the food, you felt light, happy, fully in your skin. Danny stole one last kiss, then brushed a curl from your forehead, his touch lingering. His eyes softened as he looked at you.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I think your hair’s dry. Go have a look.”

Your stomach flipped. You’d almost forgotten about it entirely, too caught up in him. You hesitated for half a second before stepping away, not before Danny landed a firm pat to your behind, earning him a disapproving look from you. You found the living room mirror, exhaling slowly before stepping in front of it.

Your breath caught.

It was… curly. Like, actually curly. Soft, bouncy, defined spirals that framed your face and cascaded over your shoulders. The frizz was gone, replaced with a shape and structure you’d never seen in your own reflection before.

A moment later, Danny appeared behind you, hands settling on your waist as he leaned in. “What do you think?” His voice was gentle, coaxing. “I, for one, think you look–” he lifted his hands to hover around your hair, shaking them for emphasis, “– fucking beautiful.”

You swallowed, warmth pooling in your chest. It was rare feeling this way, feeling good in your skin without picking apart something in the mirror. But now, standing there, with his hands warm around you, with your hair looking the way it was always meant to… you actually felt beautiful.

Danny snaked his hands around your waist, pulling you close as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then another against your jaw. His eyes met yours in the mirror, dark and full of something unshakable. “You’re radiant,” he murmured, one hand reaching up to touch the curls reverently, admiring them just as much as you were.

You hesitated, still a little shy, but finally admitted, “I… I like it.”

His grin was immediate, bright and smug and utterly delighted. “Yeah?”

You nodded, cheeks warm. “Yeah.”

Danny squeezed your waist, lips brushing your ear. “C’mon, don’t be shy,” he murmured, voice dipping lower. “You look fucking stunning.” Danny grinned, clearly not finished yet. “Okay, one last thing,” he announced, reaching for your hair again.

You blinked. “I thought we were done?”

He gave you a look. “Baby, volume is key.”

He started gently shaking out some of the curls at the roots, fluffing them up slightly. Then, he separated a few clumps with his fingers, letting them bounce into their natural shape.

When he stepped back and turned you toward the mirror again, the difference was immediate. Your curls weren’t just defined, they were full, voluminous, perfect.

“Woah,” you admitted. 

Danny whistled lowly, tilting his head as he examined his work. “Damn,” he muttered, running a hand through his own hair. “I think your curls turned out better than mine.”

You snorted. “Are you jealous?”

He huffed dramatically. “A little. I spend years perfecting my curl routine, and you just show up, looking like—” He gestured vaguely at you, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip. “Like that.”

You smirked. “Like what?”

His eyes dragged over you slowly, like he was trying to decide how much trouble he wanted to cause. Then, with zero shame, he tugged on one of your curls and let it bounce back.

“Like someone I should be getting on my knees for,” he said simply, voice dipping lower, teasing, dangerous.

Your stomach flipped. “Danny—”

“What?” He twirled his fingers around another curl, this time watching your face instead of the hair. “Just saying, if you’d figured this out sooner, I’d have spent a lot more time tugging on these in bed.” 

Your breath caught, and you swatted at his chest. “Danny!”

He grinned, completely unrepentant. “What? Don’t act like you don’t like the visual.” His hands slid down to your hips, squeezing just enough to make you inhale sharply. “I mean, fisted in these perfect curls, pulling just enough to make you—”

You slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. “Oh my God!”

Danny laughed against your palm, eyes full of mischief. He licked your hand just to be annoying, and you yelped, pulling it away.

“You’re disgusting.”

He tilted his head, pretending to consider. “Mmm, disgusting or devoted?” His hands slid a little lower, fingers brushing the curve of your ass as he leaned in, lips hovering near your ear. “Because, baby, if you had any idea what was running through my head right now, you’d—”

You interrupted him before he could finish that sentence, biting back a smile. “You are the worst.” Danny’s fingers continued to brush over your ass, and you fought the urge to clench your thighs.

He smirked, entirely too satisfied with himself. “Yeah? And yet, here you are letting me touch you, looking all soft and perfect and—” His hands slid around to grab your ass fully, giving it a firm squeeze. You gasped, swatting at him again, but he ignored it. “—mine.”

Your face burned, with either embarrassment or pure list, you didn’t know, but you were grinning despite yourself. “You are so lucky I love you.” You tried to ignore the way your heart thumped in your chest at his teasing.

He leaned in, brushing his nose against yours, his hands still shamelessly holding you in place. “Mmm,” he hummed. “Damn right I am.”

Before he could open his mouth— before he could land another cocky, teasing remark that would only make things worse— you grabbed his wrist and pulled.

Danny barely had time to react before you dragged him through the bedroom into the living room. You shoved him down onto the couch, his back hitting the cushions with a soft oof. His eyes widened, just for a second, before amusement flickered through them.

“Oh,” he said, grinning up at you. “Ohhh.”

You straddled him without hesitation, settling on his lap, your knees pressing into the cushions on either side of him. His hands found your thighs immediately, fingers spreading over your skin like they belonged there.

For once, Danny didn’t have anything smart to say. He just looked at you— really looked at you. The rise and fall of your chest, the way your curls tumbled over your shoulders, spilling around you like a halo. His eyes flickered with something darker, something hungry, and his grip on your thighs tightened just slightly.

And then, you kissed him.

Danny exhaled sharply against your lips, but he didn’t hesitate, didn’t waste a second before kissing you back. His hands roamed up your back, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel him smiling into the kiss, so unbearably pleased with himself.

When you finally pulled back, his lips were pink, his pupils blown, and his gaze flicked up to where your curls framed his face, some of them tickling his cheek. He smirked, dragging his hands down your back, settling them at your hips as he tilted his head up at you.

“Damn,” he murmured, his voice low, warm, wrecked. “Was it the hair that gave you the sudden boost of confidence?”

“Shut up,” you complained. Your lips crashed against his again, all hesitation gone. Danny groaned softly into your mouth, his hands tightening around your hips as he pulled you even closer, pressing you flush against him. The heat of him, the solid weight of his body beneath you was dizzying, intoxicating.

His hands continued to roam freely, sliding up your back, over your waist, down to your thighs, touching everywhere he could reach. You rolled your hips experimentally, barely a shift, just enough to feel him beneath you, and the sound Danny made— half sigh, half growl— sent a bolt of heat straight through you.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his lips dragging along your jaw, down your neck. He kissed you there, slow and deep, before nipping at the skin just hard enough to make you gasp. “You feel so fucking good.”

Your fingers tangled in his curls, tugging just enough to make him shudder this time. His breath hitched against your throat, and then his mouth was back on you— open, hungry, dragging down the curve of your neck. His teeth scraped your pulse point before he soothed it with his tongue, making your breath stutter.

“Danny,” you gasped, grinding down again, this time without thinking.

His hands tightened at your hips, helping you move against him. His head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut as he groaned, the sound he made so needy in a way that made you burn.

“Jesus,” he breathed, his fingers digging into your skin. “You’re trying to kill me.”

You smirked, tilting his chin up so you could kiss him again, deep and slow, swallowing the little sounds he made as your hips kept moving. The friction, the heat, every little shift sent sparks through you, left you aching, wanting.

Danny gasped into your mouth as you rolled your hips harder, feeling how thick and hard he was beneath you, pressed right against where you needed him most. You moaned at the sensation, and Danny lost it.

“Baby,” he rasped, voice low and wrecked, his hands gripping your waist like he was barely holding himself back. “Fuck, you feel that?”

You did. Oh, you did.

Your response was another slow, deliberate roll of your hips, dragging your core against the hard length of him, and Danny swore under his breath, his head falling back against the couch.

“Shit,” he groaned, his voice strained. His hands dragged up your back, one slipping into your hair, pulling just enough to make you whimper. Every slow grind against him sent another wave of slick heat pooling between your thighs, making you desperate for more, more, more.

Danny’s breath stuttered. His grip on you turned almost desperate, like he couldn’t get enough, couldn’t have enough.

His lips found your throat again, this time kissing and sucking like he was trying to mark you. His hips shifted beneath you, pressing up to meet your movements, and the added friction made you whimper.

He kissed you, hard, deep, hungry, his hips rolling up into yours as his hands slid beneath your shirt, fingers trailing fire over your bare skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned against your skin, his voice practically shaking. “You keep moving like that, and–”

“Yeah baby? You like how it feels?” You whispered, tugging his curls, making him look at you. Heaven knows where your confidence had come from. You’d never taken this dominant of a role with Danny before. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, his chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths.

Your hands barely had time to steady yourself on his shoulders before Danny’s grip turned desperate. His fingers fumbled at the waistband of your pants, tugging at them with an urgency that sent another wave of heat through you.

“Off,” he muttered against your lips, already yanking at the fabric. “Need these off.”

You laughed breathlessly, lifting your hips just enough to help him. He practically tore them down your legs, his hands skimming over your thighs, your ass, anywhere he could touch before shoving your underwear down just as quickly.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hands sliding up your bare thighs, squeezing, spreading you wider over him. “God, you’re so fucking wet.”

Your breath caught, and then you were reaching for his pants, tugging impatiently. Danny groaned as you palmed him through the fabric, already so thick and hard, and the sound he made nearly undid you.

“Jesus, baby—” His hands flexed against your skin, his head dropping back against the couch for just a second before he was helping you, shoving his own pants down, lifting his hips to kick them off.

And fuck.

Your stomach flipped at the sight of him— his cock, flushed and leaking, thick and heavy against his stomach. Your thighs clenched at the sheer size of him, and Danny smirked when he caught you staring.

“Like what you see?” he teased, breathless.

You swallowed hard, heat rushing through you. “Shut up.”

“Yeah?” He exhaled sharply, gripping himself at the base, giving himself a slow, lazy stroke. Your mouth watered. “You don’t really want that though do you baby?”

Your face burned. His teasing was endless, and yet all it did was make you want him more.

Quickly, you stripped your shirt over your shoulders and threw it sidewards, your breasts falling free before his face. Before he could touch, you desperately stripped him of his own shirt, exposing his chest in all its glory, flushed, tan and heaving. 

You settled back over him, and his hands immediately found your hips, holding you there, dragging you down just enough that his cock slid through your slick folds, the tip nudging right against your clit.

Your whole body jolted.

Danny groaned, his grip tightening. “Fuck, I can feel you throbbing.” His voice was strained, breathless. “You’re fucking dripping for me.”

You gasped as he rocked his hips up, teasing himself through your wetness, slicking himself up in the process. The way the head of his cock dragged over your clit, over and over, had you whimpering, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself.

“Danny—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he rasped, one hand sliding up your back, the other guiding himself to your entrance. “I got you. Just—”

He lifted your hips only just, before he pushed in, slowly, inch by inch, stretching you open, and fuck.

Your mouth fell open on a gasp, nails digging into his shoulders as he filled you, your body clenching around him, taking all of him.

Danny groaned, his head tipping back, eyes squeezed shut. “Fucking hell, baby,” he choked out. “Feel so good.”

You whimpered, adjusting to the fullness, the stretch. “You’re huge.”

Danny let out a breathless laugh, his hands gripping your hips like a vice. “You take me so well, Baby.”

You exhaled shakily, rolling your hips just enough to make him gasp.

His fingers flexed, his jaw clenching. “Jesus Christ.”

Then, his hands tightened, and he snapped his hips up into you.

You cried out, back arching, and Danny groaned at the sight, his grip firm as he guided you, urging you to move.

His hands slid up your sides, tracing your curves, smoothing over your stomach, then up to cup your breasts, squeezing just enough to make you gasp.

“You have no idea,” he groaned, thumbs brushing over your nipples, watching as they pebbled under his touch, “how fucking beautiful you are.”

A heat bloomed in your chest, something heady and intoxicating, and when he rolled his hips up to meet yours, forcing him deeper, you whined. You couldn't help but clench around him, his cock throbbing in response. 

Danny grinned, though his own breath was uneven, his fingers tracing down your body again, memorizing you. “Yeah?” he murmured, voice dipping lower, teasing. “You like when I tell you how fucking perfect you are?”

You bit your lip, nodding, and Danny groaned, his hands gripping your waist as he thrust up into you, hard and deliberate.

“Good,” he rasped, his lips brushing your jaw, his breath hot against your skin. “Because I could do this all day.”

He leaned in, kissing along your throat, slow and possessive, his hips rolling in perfect rhythm beneath you. His hands slid back to your ass, squeezing before guiding your movements, encouraging you to move faster.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “Use me. Fucking take what you need.”

The words sent a fresh surge of heat through you, making you desperate, making you grind down on him harder, faster, your hips lifting just enough to give him the friction he needed against your walls. You felt him, too— felt the way his cock throbbed inside you, the way his breathing grew ragged, needy.

One of his hands fisted in your hair, yanking your head back just enough to expose your throat to him. His tongue darted out, tasting the sweat on your skin before he bit down, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

You moaned, your hands steading yourself on his shoulders as you arched into him, head dropped back by his tight hold on your hair.

His free hand slipped between your bodies, fingers finding your clit as it ground against the coarse hair over his pubic bone, rubbing slow, teasing circles that made your thighs shake. 

You moaned breathlessly. “Fuck, Danny.”

“You’re so fucking wet,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “Jesus, I could stay buried in you forever.” Hand still lost in your locks, Danny pulled your head back towards him, pushing your face into his shoulder. Your cheek pressed up against the damp skin as you panted and moaned shamelessly against him, hips still rising and falling on his cock. 

Your nails dug into his shoulders, your body tightening around him, sending him reeling.

Danny whined pathetically, thrusting up harder, chasing both of your highs now. “God, yes, baby,” he groaned, his cheek pressing to your head, sweat-slick and desperate. “Come on. Give it to me.”

Your body bounced atop him with every thrust upward, meeting him in a hard descent down, the tip of his cock nudging against your walls with each jolt. 

His fingers worked you faster, his movements turning almost frantic as he felt you tightening around him. His grip on your hair tightened too, keeping you right where he wanted you, pressed flush against his hot skin—

Then it snapped.

You cried out, your body clenching down around him as pleasure crashed over you, leaving you trembling. Danny cursed, his grip bruising as he fucked you through it, watching you unravel with something wrecked in his expression.

Then, with a strangled groan, he followed— his hips stuttering, his breath hitching as he buried himself as deep as he could, coming hard, his cock twitching inside you as he filled you with everything he had to give you.

You continued to pant against him, body slumped in a sweaty, tired heap on his lap, his chest rising and falling restlessly against your face, which had slid down his shoulder to his pec. For a long moment, neither of you moved, your bodies pressed together, skin damp, hearts hammering in sync.

Danny let out a breathless laugh, chest still rising and falling beneath you, both of you slick with sweat, tangled together in a mess of limbs and heat. His fingers traced slow, absentminded circles on your lower back, grounding you even as your body still buzzed with aftershocks.

“Jesus,” he muttered, voice rough, wrecked.

You hummed, pressing your forehead into his chest, letting yourself sink into the warmth of him, the solid weight of his arms still wrapped around you.

Then, because he was Danny and he could never help himself, you could practically hear his smirk as he murmured, “So, is this just a side effect of the new curls, or have you been hiding that kind of confidence from me all this time?”

You scoffed, swatting weakly at his arm. “Shut up.”

He grinned, entirely too satisfied with himself, fingers finding a loose curl and giving it a teasing tug. “I mean, really. If I’d known this was the key to getting you to jump my bones like that, I’d have been curling your hair ages ago.”

Your face burned, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “I hate you.”

Danny only laughed, shifting beneath you so you were tucked against his chest, his arms looping around you with an ease that made your heart ache. “No, you don’t,” he murmured, voice dipping softer now, more serious. His lips brushed your temple, his fingers tracing a slow path up and down your spine. “You love me.”

And God, you did.

You sighed into him, melting into the warmth of his skin, the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your cheek. “Yeah,” you admitted, voice small. “I do.”

Danny let out a contented hum, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I’m so fucking in love with you, it’s actually pathetic.”

You huffed a laugh, tilting your head to look up at him. The dim light of the living room cast soft shadows across his face, catching on the sharp cut of his jaw, the messy curls sticking to his forehead. His lips were still kiss-swollen, his cheeks still flushed, and God, he was beautiful.

But it wasn’t just his looks, it was him. The way he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world, the way he touched you like he was memorising you, like you were something precious.

His fingers brushed along your cheek now, his thumb tracing just beneath your bottom lip, his gaze unreadable. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, voice thick. “You know that, right?”

You wanted to roll your eyes, like you usually would, but after the way you’d been treated today, it wasn't so hard to believe this time. “Do you really mean that?”

He grinned, but his eyes stayed soft, sincere. “I really mean that,” he said, fingers tangling in your hair again, this time smoothing over the skin of your scalp where he had tugged only moments before. “Beautiful,” he punctuated the compliment with a kiss to your head, “and pretty,” another kiss, “and gorgeous,” kiss, “and stunning,” kiss, “and ethereal,” kiss, “and so, so sexy,” he dropped his hands to your bare ass and gave you a gentle squeeze. “But most of all, I love you, so, so much,” he tucked a curl behind your ear as it hung over your eye, “And, I really, really like your hair curly.” 

You giggled, hoping your blush wasn’t too evident as you leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Good. ‘Cause I like it too.”

༘

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Part 2

[kteezy997]

The Emperor’s Wife: Part Three//Paul Atreides

Warnings:smut, threesome, like it gets right to it, doggy, fingering, dirty talk, reader briefly questions her sexuality, presence of cum, female receiving oral sex, mention of pregnancy

18+ readers only!!

You felt at ease now that you knew Chani wasn’t going to kill you, she didn’t even seem upset after finding you and her man in bed together.

“Fremen women have always shared their men. And I know that you love him, y/n. So I give you both my blessing to be together.”

Paul sighed softly, wrapping his arms around her slender body, nestling his cheek against her torso. “I love you, Chani.” he proclaimed, pressing a little kiss to her abdomen.

You watched as Chani ran her hand over Paul’s messy, dirty curls as he looked up at her, “I think… I would like to join you and her.” she said.

Paul quirked his brow at her, curiously, "Really?"

.........

You were astonished as he took her right then. Chani's layered robe was peeled off in an instant, and Paul bent her over the bed. She whimpered and moaned as he fucked her from behind.

You felt like a pervert, sitting there watching them. Paul look so hot and flushed as his face contorted while he rammed the pussy of his beloved concubine.

You were getting wet again, just by watching them. Chani cried out in pleasure, and she gripped hard onto the bedsheets in front of her. Paul was sweating, he smirked at you, then leaned over to push Chani down further with his hand between her shoulder blades. Her cries were thus muffled by the mattress.

No longer could you fight the urge to kiss him, to touch him. You got up and wrapped your arms around him, careful to not disrupt their sex, and you put your lips on his. He kissed you back, moaning onto your lips. You kissed his face, along his jaw, all while running your hands over his slick body.

His eyes pierced through you, and you shoved his disheveled hair out of his vision. Then he looked down at Chani, he stared at his cock pumping in and out of her. You felt your own pussy throb as you heard the slapping sound between him and her.

Paul's other wife was a beauty, so natural and raw. Her deep caramel skin glowed under the bedroom lighting. You put your hand on her hip as she bucked back at Paul. Chani's flesh was silky to the touch, her body was lean and strong. You could see why Paul wanted to be bound to her forever.

You were pulled into a warm, sticky embrace by your husband. Paul kissed your face and neck feverishly. His arm snaked around your body and the other slid down the front of you, dipping down between your folds. You shivered at the feeling.

"So wet for your husband, aren't you?" he whispered, his voice raspy as he spoke with his breath hitting your cheek.

You nodded, leaning against him as he rubbed your clit, "Yes." you answered, closing your eyes.

"Do you like watching me and Chani?" he probed, nibbling on the crook of your neck.

"mm-hmm." you hummed.

Paul inserted his fingers inside you. You throbbed around his digits as they rammed into you.

Chani paused, and collapsed onto the bed, panting.

"You think she wants to watch us?" he asked you, slowing up the pace of his fingering. He kissed you chastely, and before you could even think of answering, he shoved you down.

You gasped loudly as your face bounced on the softness of the bed in a quick manner, and Paul's hands were on your bottom, squeezing your flesh as his cock was shoved into you again. "Ahhh!" you cried. You lay your head to the side, and saw Chani laying next to you.

Her frizzy curls were a little wilder now, and she smiled softly at you. Her eyes were bright blue, but obviously tired. She ran her hand through your hair and kissed you on the cheek.

Paul continued to fuck you roughly, and Chani lightly massaged your back, caressing your tight muscles to soothe you. She gave you sweet, supportive kisses on your face and lips.

You had never fancied a woman before. In fact, Paul is the first person you ever had any love, desire, or lust for. Everything was happening so fast this night, and it was so new that you didn't know whether or not you were actually attracted to Chani, but you were glad that she was there with you. She had a very kind, inviting nature about her.

Your pussy throbbed and convulsed around the emperor's swollen cock. You felt his hips stir against you. But your pussy was suddenly empty, and you missed his cock as soon as he had pulled it out. You heard Paul groan, and you looked behind you to see him pumping his cock hard and fast with his hand.

Chani crawled over to him, waiting for him to burst, and he did. His sperm sprayed out in several ropes, on your ass, his hand, and Chani caught some on her tongue, swallowing it an obedient sort of way.

Paul stopped jerking his cock, looking at Chani then at you with a chuckle. He shook his head, then collapsed on to his back next to you. Chani, in turn, laid on the other side of him.

The three of you relaxed on the bed for a while. Paul put an arm around each of you. You cuddle up to his side, kissing his chest, letting your fingers slowly dance along his flat stomach.

He and Chani had started kissing, and she giggled lightly. However, you didn't feel jealous, not anymore. You didn't feel excluded. Paul kept his arm around you, and he stopped to turn and give you a kiss as well. You tucked your leg onto his as he gave little pecks to your cheek and nuzzled into your neck.

You saw Chani lean into his ear, whispering something. Paul grinned at her in response. He kissed your forehead, then rolled over on top of Chani. She was smiling and giggling. You were growing to admire the playfulness between the two of them. Paul dipped down, his face between her thighs. She locked her long legs around him, and he started to eat her out.

You looked on, watching Chani's eyes slowly begin to close, she moaned, bit her lip, and ran her fingers into her hair. He small breasts heaved, her nipples peaking as her man pleasured her with his mouth. She managed to open her eyes, and she looked over at you, "Did he lick your pussy, y/n?" she asked in a breathy tone.

You swallowed, "Y-yes, briefly."

"Oh, he's got such a natural talent for it." she gasped and you saw him shaking his head back and forth with his mouth on her pussy.

Paul brought Chani to an orgasm within a couple of minutes.

When they finished, she came down from her high as he cuddled her and she said, "I'm going to go get cleaned up. Usul, you should too. You're filthy."

He chuckled at her remark, watching her get up from the bed, and you tried to stop yourself from smirking.

Paul rolled over, getting half on top of you and he brought a hand up to cradle your head. "This night has been incredible. I'm so happy you came." he smiled down at you softly, then kissed your lips.

"Me too." you said, in between kisses. He had a way of looking at you that made your heart soar.

"I think you should know that Chani is pregnant." he whispered.

You gulped, knowing that you would never have the opportunity to have a child because of your political marriage. "That's wonderful for you both. And for House Atreides."

The Bene Gesserit were desperate to save Paul's lineage. They wouldn't be pleased with Chani as the one to bear the heir, but it was the better option to having no heir at all.

You couldn't help but be saddened at the thought of never having children. Paul told you when you were married that you could have other men, though you never desired it, but no children.

"My dear wife, you now have my love. I could be swayed to also give you a child whenever you wish. The vow I made when we were married is entirely faulty now.” he smirked.

Your heart raced, and you smiled beyond your ability to control, “You mean that? I can have your child?"

"Of course. Now, my child with Chani will be the rightful heir to House Atreides and the throne-"

"I don't care.” you said, cutting him off, “I've lived with royalty my whole life. I just want to enjoy a child, for who they are, not who they are meant to be."

Paul smiled, "You are a unique Bene Gesserit. They make plans in centuries."

"My only plans are to love and be loved by you, Paul Atreides."

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen

[lillsisamarshmallow]

Secretly dating Denki Kaminari ⚡️ 💛

Synopsis: What it's like to be secretly dating Denki.

Genre: Headcannons + Drabbles

Wordcount: 1.8k

Anime masterlist

Secretly dating Denki means sneaking in and out of his dorm room during crazy hours of the night so none of your classmates catch you.

And it means sacrificing your beauty sleep too.

But it’s all worth it.

Comfortable doesn’t even begin to describe this feeling. Snuggled up to your boyfriend, your head on his chest, his arms around you and legs tangled together under the blankets. Sure, Denki’s bedroom wasn’t as pretty as yours or tidy and clean, but his bedroom was way more comfortable. His blankets felt warmer, his mattress softer, and his pillows fluffier, and you had no idea why. If you could spend all day in here, you would, skipping classes and dinners just to stay like this. Denki had one hand wrapped around your waist, the other softly running through your hair, a small light on his bedside table lighting the room up in a golden glow within the darkness; outside, the stars were shining. It was around 11pm now, and you had been here for an hour or so, just lying together and occasionally talking.

“Your hair is always so soft.” Denki murmured as he kept running his fingers through it, perhaps messing it up a little, but he didn’t care. His yellow eyes gazed softly and landed on your peaceful face, eyes closed and smushed against his chest, small puffs of air leaving your lips. You were the most beautiful thing, and he’d never understand how he got so lucky to end up with you here.

“It’s called conditioner, baby.” You hummed back to him softly.

Baby. He loved when you called him that, made butterflies flutter in his stomach, and his knees go weak. Your sweet and soft voice, knowing that only you called him that. He hummed back in response to your words about products you used on your hair that made it soft.

“Maybe I’ll wash your hair with my things sometime.” You said softly, lifting your head up and instead resting your chin on his chest so you could see his face, his yellow hair messily fanned over his pillows.

“That sounds nice.” He said back to you, his lips curling into a smile as your hair sat a little awkwardly now on your head from how he had been running his hands through it; it was a little fluffy now, a little frizzy and messy, but you were still cute as ever. He chuckled softly before using his hand to fix it a little. He spoke again softly, chiming as he teased. “Maybe then I’ll have better hair.”

You rolled your eyes at him and his teasing.

“I’ll start using all your products until my hair is so damn soft you’ll be jealous.” He added, pulling his hand back from your hair and instead flicking his hair from his face dramatically.

You giggled softly and rolled your eyes before shifting and leaning up to him. “You’re such a dork.” You whispered just before connecting your lips with his and kissing him softly, his other arms wrapping around you and holding you close.

“But I’m your dork.” He whispered against your lips as he pulled away, but not for long before kissing you again as you both giggled softly into the kiss, the rest of the night melting away as you spent your time together until you had to sneak back to your own side of the dorms in the early hours of the morning.

Secretly dating Denki meant trying to look after each other during training without being suspicious.

It meant subtly protecting each other.

And you were always the one to look after him when he short-circuited.

“Denki!” You yelled, but it was too late before Katsuki had convinced him to use his full 3 million volts to beat the ‘villains’ team in the training drill, and you just barely managed to save yourself from being collateral. You did win, to be fair, but now you had a short-circuited Pikachu to take care of.

Denki walked around mindlessly, giving a thumbs up, his eyes dazed and head probably spinning whilst the others got off the training set. You walked over to him and put your hand on his shoulder, grabbing his hand with your other, stopping him from walking into random props.

“Denki…” you mumbled softly, though you couldn’t really scold him for it; he single-handedly won the training drill when the rest of your team couldn’t come up with a plan to win. You continued to help him not walk into walls or props as you guided him off the set and started heading back to where everyone else was. Denki suddenly lazily pushes at your hands, trying to stop you; confused, you let go of him.

“I…I ‘ve a…’irlfri...end…” He slurred and took an unbalanced step backwards, clearly not realising what was going on. You couldn't help but giggle softly at him.

“Yeah, I know, baby.” You said, knowing that none of your classmates were around to hear you call him baby. “I’m your girlfriend,” you reminded him.

Denki’s eyes widened a little, his lips still parted and drooling a little, very out of it from frying his brain. “Really?… But y...'re s'pretty.” He slurred.

“Thank you, Baby.”

“I’m so…lucky,” he reached forward and lazily put his arms over you, basically his whole weight in your arms. With a roll of your eyes, you gave his cheek a kiss before dragging him back over to the class and sitting down with him, his head resting on your shoulder, drooling on your uniform while he took some time to recover, and you looked down at him; no matter how frustrating he could be, he was such a cutie.

Secretly dating Denki includes taking chances and being risky because Denki is just too damn clingy all the time.

From sitting next to you at lunch, impossibly close, under the table his hand linked with yours.

Stealing quick kisses behind corners and when your friends look away for even a second, and almost getting caught many times.

Leaving hickeys on your neck that you have to cover up, and vice versa, or sometimes on other places where your hero outfit would typically reveal your skin there.

Honestly, sometimes forgetting why you keep this a secret in the first place because he wants to brag to his friends and be able to kiss you whenever he wants, be able to show off those hickeys.

Secretly dating Denki means knowing that no matter how much of a clown he can be and how much he leans into being a goofball, sometimes he just wants to feel appreciated and like he’s actually important and valued. Katsuki and his other friends sometimes go a bit too far, all in good fun, but sometimes he wishes they would notice the times when they would’ve lost if not for him, to acknowledge his skills and hard work too, not just his failures.

Those nights are often spent cuddled in his bed, or sometimes yours, and if he’s upset enough, he doesn’t even bother to wait until everyone else is asleep to head to the girls side of the dorm, and shows up at your door, and by his expression, you can tell what’s going on.

It’s dropping everything you're doing to look after him, lying in bed and running your hands through his hair. Sometimes he wants to talk about it; other times he just wants to hold you. Regardless, you always told him how strong he was and that even if he didn’t get the best grades, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be a great hero.

It’s peppering his face in kisses until he can’t help but smile and laugh, even when you’re wearing lipstick or gloss and his face is covered in prints.

Sometimes it’s even skipping class the next day and playing sick just so you can stay in your room and spend time with each other until he’s feeling better.

And sometimes it means ripping his friends a new one with no explanation and leaving them fearing to fall asleep peacefully.

They usually don’t tease him for a while after that.

Secretly dating Denki means living with his impulsive decisions, no matter how crazy they are.

“Denki!” You yelled out with a chuckle as he dragged you out of the dorm building and into the front garden as the rain was pelting down, wet and cold and making you gasp. But he didn’t care. You tried to get inside before you got soaked, but he kept you with him, holding your waist tightly and spinning around as the rain soaked you both.

Rain falls down and drenches your clothes and hair, his too, and though you know you’ll end up cold later and needing to wash your hair, the large smile on his face was worth it. His lips pressed against yours as he held you by the waist, dipping you slightly as his wet hair dripped.

The sweet moment was quickly followed by him looking up at the sky and opening his mouth widely to catch the rain. He looked so silly, so dorky, but so happy, and he was all yours, and you loved him just the way he was.

Secretly dating Denki means that the secret didn’t last long.

Honestly, neither of you were trying too hard to hide it, but you managed a good 7 months before your friends caught you leaving his room and found out the truth.

Denki opened his door for you, letting you out at about 5am in the morning so you could make it back to the girls side of the building before anyone saw you. He leant in for one last kiss. “See you later?” He knew it wasn’t a question; he would be seeing you later in class and then again when you showed up tonight to come back to his room.

“Of course.” You said back to him, a smile on your lips as you pulled away, dressed in your pyjamas and holding just your phone, and you went to walk away, turning to start walking down the hall to the elevator when you saw them.

Katsuki, Eijiro, Mina, Hanta, and even Izuku were standing in the hall— well, Hanta and Mina were sitting down, both clearly tired as he rested his head on her shoulder, both of them about to fall asleep. They were already looking at you, like they were expecting it, and they had been. Your friends had grown suspicious, and Eijiro swore he’d seen you and Denki kissing a few weeks ago, Katsuki had seen you bother wandering about at 5am a few times, earlier then either of you claimed to wake up, so now they'd had a stakeout all night, just waiting to see if their suspicions were correct‚— and they were.

“Oh my goodness.” Izuku said, the others also picking up on it, their suspicions confirmed. Mina jumped up from the ground, leaving Hanta to fall over.

You were speechless for a moment before turning to Denki, who was confused, gesturing to your friends down the hall, to which he poked his head around the corner and saw them all there.

“I think the cat’s out of the bag.”

A/n: Secretly dating Denki Kaminari (Pls I need him) I tried to make the text yellow, like how Kacchan's was orange, but my brain broke and I decided to give up. I hope you enjoyed the Denki version of these head cannons, and thank you for reading 🫶🏽

[spring002]

now playing. . . you love me by kimya dawson

the sun was peeking through the blinds, you could see the lighter strands of scaramouche's hair appear more purple than indigo, he laid on your lap. "what do you want to do today, name?" he asked you as you messed with his hair, disheveling it from its usual jellyfish like shape. well, actually, his hair is growing out. it would look so pretty with some bows. imagining it makes him appear more princely than before. so cute, you thought.

"hmm, i don't really want to do anything other than hanging with you. wait, did you have work today?" scaramouche must have work since he already had a day off last week. if he ditches again, his mother would definitely be mad. he'll be skipping his lessons to become the ceo of the raiden company. if he does it again, i'll scold him. as you were lost in your own thoughts, scaramouche just got off the phone.

"not anymore." did he really just get out of work just to hang out with you? how romantic.... and incredibly irresponsible. you huffed, stopping yourself from petting his head,

"wouldn't your mother get angry that you ditching?" you were initiating scolding mode. but when he placed your hand back in his hair, tangling your fingers with his locks, you melted instantly. so much for scolding mode.

"hmm, nah, she'll be fine." you trust his word. after that, you two were quiet, listening to the ambience of the city in the background as you disheveled his hair.

then out of the blue, scaramouche asked, "okay, why are you so quiet, name?"

"what? i didn't even say anything." you spluttered out, pausing your destressing moment with his hair. again, he patted your hand and put it back on his hair. he sighed,

"exactly. by now, you'll be blabbering about some game you're interested in." he's right. you would be raving about a new game or an item you just bought. it wouldn't be bad to ask right?

"can i braid your hair? or add bows to it? i think you would look so pretty."

he quirked a brow, "is my hair long enough for it?"

"it's a bit shaggy so yes." you examined his hair, running your hair through it, detangling it from the process. scaramouche winced a little from the pain as you whispered a sorry and pecked his forehead. after a while, he finally just said,

"alright." however, you don't exactly have the bows on you right now and the only way to get them is if you get them from the bedroom. "scara, honey," you spoke, getting his attention. "i need to get up to get the bows and hair items."

instead of moving away, he stayed still on your lap, you could feel your legs getting number. your nerves were tingling as you tried to wiggle your boyfriend off. "scara, c'mon." you were afraid to get out the big guns. you tried to imply it, "scara, y'know what would happen if you don't get up?"

scaramouche slowly raised up from your lap and said, "honey, i think, i'll get it for you instead. you deserve to sit down and such, is it in the bedroom-" you nodded. "-okay, will be back..."

he was back with a plastic bag filled with bows, ribbons, different clips that varied of different color. you smiled as he placed it on the other side of you and settled into his spot, being your lap. "thank you so much, honey."

he laughed as if he wasn't scared of you earlier, "of course, honey." you picked up a teal ribbon and asked if he liked it. he shrugged and told you it was very pretty. you giggled as you braided it into his hair. the end result? very frizzy but very cute. the teal really helped to bring out the deep indigo color. "do you think this color would be cute on you? orr this color?" you showed him a red ribbon with lace trimmings and a dark blue ribbon with lacy patterns. he chose the dark blue because it would fit better with the teal. "you're so right, scara."

"aren't i always?"