#but cater ponytail when??

[artistnettles]

An oldie but I had to share since its twst chef cafe season!

[itsredpaint]

anyone interested in a jingren (jingxing? jingying? jing yuan and yingxing) mdzs au

[almondmilkcleanser]

when I made a little mess, he told me to clean my act up....

└ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 `

synopsis - your friends are seeing less and less of you and all you can give them as an excuse is that between school and Sukuna your schedule is filled to the brim. Is tonight going to be any different? pairing - ryomen Sukuna x reader

content -Daddy dom sUkuna listening to - positions x ariana grande minors do not interact a/n - happy holidays everyone <3

Ping!

Come out with us for drinks! Its been so long since weve seen you since you started dating this guy. Whats his name again?

Ping!

Oh come onnnn! This is like the third weekend in a row that youve bailed on us. Sewriously, who is this guy anyway?

Ping!

Y/nnnnn! We miss you! Why dont you tell your little boy toy that you cant sit on his lap this weekend and actually come out with us~~~ love you talk to you later!

Ping!

Are you okay? We’re worried. Whats really going on? Everytime we try to invite you out you say youre with this Sukuna guy. Seriously who is he? Ugh! Call me later. Love you bye!

Ping! Ping! Ping!

“Tsk. you dont need those kinds of friends anyway. Nothin’ but a bunch of jealous girls. Isn't that right, beautiful?” You wish you could reply, but you were stuffed - practically down to your rib cage - full of Sukuna. He crossed his flexed biceps behind his head, a smug expression slowly creeping across his face.

Aggressively pressing the lock button on your phone, he tossed it clear across the room. He read the plethora of messages between your friends, how they complained about their boyfriends/dates - both seemingly interchanged between each other in some, very odd, sort of fashion - and how they were going to form a man hating group. Just for you to turn around and meet Sukuna. Mean old Sukuna. Curse destroying Sukuna.

Sukuna, your Dom. Sukuna, your boyfriend.

Sukuna, the one training you to take his entire dick down your throat as your first lesson. 

He chose your hairstyle, two low ponytails that hung daintily down your back. He didn’t give a shit if you just got your hair done. He’ll pay to get it fixed once he’s done with you. He kept you pampered; your hair was done, nails were done, fresh pedicures, the works. So to hell with messing up a hairstyle, daddy Sukuna took care of it all.

The new choker he bought you complimented your skin tone perfectly. You always voiced your concerns on how the BDSM community never catered to darker skinned women as far as color selection, but he pulled the appropriate strings, so nothing on your beautiful brown skin looked washed out or ashy. The metal heart brightly polished - almost spit shined - and neatly rested on your throat. That pretty fucking throat that he had grown so acquainted it. 

He hmm’d to himself as he reminisced, his eyes never leaving your innocent face as you stared back at him. Your plush, glossed lips, encircled around his dick. As you swallowed him whole, he thought back to the first time you rode him.

 Your hips bouncing up and down at a hungered pace, his large hand wrapped around your neck, and his engorged dick french kissing your gripping walls, pulling him in deeper, deeper, deeper into the depths of your love nest to welcome his seed home.

Thank fuck for birth control. A mutual agreement between you two - but it was, in all honesty, the best thing you could have done.

His dark eyes flashed something so lustful, so salacious, that he almost sounded giddy upon sharing it with you.

“Y/N, sweetheart, Mmh, I have an idea.” your soft tongue flicked the pre-cum clean off the tip of his head, your eyes innocent and wanting. With your hands still wrapped around his dick, you continued to lick the head, your ears perked at his idea.

“Yes, daddy. What’s your idea.” Sukuna loved your obedience. If half of the idiots surrounding him on a day-to-day basis had half the brains and even a fraction of your pussy, then his days would go a lot smoother. But until then-

With an ever growing smile, he jerked his head to the side of him, making your eyes wander over his direction. In the corner was the suspension rig that he put together for play time. 

The metallic poles glinted brightly under your living room lights - they almost mocked you, ready to hoist you in the air for all of Sukuna to see and galore in his own self of triumph - its black lapels sturdy, strong, shining. For you. 

Sukuna read your eyes with triumph. Partial sadism and partial perversion intertwined themselves into one, forming at the root a creation that would sit-pretty in the back of his mind. Of course, you would look up at him, mouth stuffed with his girth, with such an harmless stare. You blinked - pleading almost - that his mind wasn’t affixed to the sight of you dangling there, helpless and pleading, pussy pretty, raspberry pink, and wanting to be split down the middle. 

“Remember what daddy talked about last weekend? How if you didn’t get that A in your organic chemistry class that we’d be setting up our next little toy?” In what world was that fucking contraption little?!

“Y-yes, Daddy.” you stopped giving him head to look deeper into his eyes. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his upper thighs. He traced your bottom lip and smirked. His sadistic eyes shimmering brightly.

“I saw how you tried to turn that ‘C’ into an A. So I logged into your school account.” his voice simmered a mixture of amber and sweet tobacco. But you and your pussy knew that he wasn't anywhere near pleased. He fed you his thumb, and like an obedient plaything you opened your mouth, letting him rest on your tongue. 

You suckled down, lapping your tongue around it, taking in the hints of your own juices from this morning’s requested “stuffing session”. You were a greedy little thing. Begging him for one finger, then two, all four, and finally his thumb. Your mind was still recalibrating from that orgasm even to this second.

“Baby, tsss, why did you lie to me?” he used his other hand to tiptop to one ponytail, then the other. Holding both in his hand, he tugged gently. You had no reason outside of being a brat. You hated organic chemistry. The teacher didn’t offer extra credit. And Sukuna, as hungrily devilish he was, he didn’t fuck around when it came to your education. You still remember how many times he edged you because you forgot to turn in a huge presentation for your English class. You already had an A in the class! But Daddy didn’t care. 

You held his wrist with both of your hands, putting extra care into teasing his thumb. Taking it a step further, you nudged his hand to welcome two more of his fingers. You could taste yourself. A specially formulated nectar that practically oozed from your pussy, all dried up on his fingers. He knew what you were trying to do. But by fucking God did he enjoy falling for it.

He pulled on your ponytails, popping his mouth off of his hands and upwards at him. 

“Sweetie, I asked a question. Why did you lie about your grades?” He took those same two fingers in his mouth and purposely slobbered on them. He scooted off the chair, his torso still towering over yours, and repositioned himself on his knees in front of you. He snaked his hand behind you and popped those same two fingers in your slicked opening. You welcomed him cheerfully, making him tsss at the sudden wave of wet warmth sucking him in.

He had to keep his composure. He had to keep his vices in tack. Otherwise he would turn you around and fucking throttle you for hours.

“Speak, Y/N.” he growled.

“B-because I didn’t want you to be mad, Suna~” you clenched your teeth, swallowing down a moan. “I fell asleep studying and didn’t remember half of what was on the test. But I won’t do it again- ah- I p-p-promise.” Sukuna stuffed you with a third finger but refused to move. He shook his head disapprovingly.

“Tsk tsk tsk. All you had to do was tell me the truth. But now-” the pressure of his thumb as it pressed against your asshole sent shivers across your body. 

“We’re going to have some fun.”

✥✥✥

“Mmmm… look at that pussy.” Sukuna took a few steps to admire his work. You were dangling in midair, your ankles held up by two suspension straps and your arms held behind your back by another set of suspension straps. Your body lazily rocked back and forth in midair, everything exposed to Sukuna. 

“And you were protesting this idea so much, Y/N.” Sukuna snorted, bunching all the straps in his hand to rock you back to him. “Look how wet she is,” with one finger, he scooped the inside of your pussy, whistling in wondrous regard at how sticky you were. “She’s fucking ready, princess. Are you?”

Your body was hot. You’ve never been this exposed by anyone in your life! If your friends were to get a glimpse of you - Ms. high-strung, always punctual, studious and practically perfect - strung up like a holiday ham about to get the shit fucked out of you, what would they say?

Sukuna pulled the holsters back, guiding his thick dick into your slicked entrance with precision. He growled aloud, seeing you so helpless as he stretched you open sparked something carnal inside of him. His pretty pillow princess, hanging in the air, submissive and so fucking sexy. All for him.

All for me

Slap! He moved his hips back and forth. Palming your beautiful ass, slapping each cheek as you rocked back and forth. Swallowing him whole.

All for fucking me.

Your pussy gripped around him, making him moan aloud. “F-fuck, baby. Your pussy isn’t letting up today. She’s a g-good girl~ she’s a good fucking girl~” he slapped your ass again, upping the pace. He gripped the holsters so you’d stay in place as he slammed into you. He made your pussy his home, claiming each available space as his. Your sloshed insides coated his dick with an opaque film that glistened every inch of him from tip to base, even dripping down his balls. 

“S-s-suna-a-a-a~” Your pitched whines fed him. He fucked you harder, and harder, and harder. Your slutty pussy let him in each and every time. Its warmth enveloping his massive girth and nestling him home. With a grit of his teeth, he tried his damnedest not to cum, but you were just-

“Dammit, she’s so fucking good baby. Your pussy l-loves this”

“‘Ts so fucking tight.” He spit on his thumb, guiding it in your forbidden hole. “Sucha nasty fucking girl.” He pulled himself out of you to admire you. Your open pussy, slicked, wanting, welcoming. “Does daddy’s girl want to come?” He licked two fingers and pressed them on your clit. The electric shocks sending your back into an arch and your moans into a frenzy.

“Hm? I don’t think i hear you, doll~” he slapped your clit with those same two fingers, chuckling under his breath. Your eyes caught a flashing light in the corner of the room. It was your phone. Your friends were calling you again.

“Oh, that’s a shame.” his hand wrapped around your neck. He smiled into your neck, biting playfully on your shoulder. “Looks like others want your attention as much as I do.” He guided himself back into you. Your quivering pussy clenching down, refusing to let him go. 

“How’s about this-” he kissed your cheek. “You give me a good orgasm and I’ll let you go. And you can go make up lost time with your friends. Sounds good?” he didn’t really wait for an answer. Instead, he stood back up, grabbed your hips, and proceeded to pound into you.

“F-fuck! You like this, huh, sweetheart?” You did. You fucking did. Being so vulnerable and open to him from all angles drove you fucking insane. Your body rocked back and forth as his hips met your ass. The ripples of your ass sending Sukuna in a daze. He loved watching your almond-coated body glazed with sweat. You needed this fucking more than you admitted. And he was more than happy to give it to you.

His thrusts increased in force. So much that he had to cinch onto your hips so you wouldn’t fly forward. But Daddy Sukuna knew you. He knew you would take it. With a fucking smile. Your moans escalated to a near animalistic pitch. He loved seeing you let loose. To hear you curse, whine, and groan your frustrations made him proud to be yours. To be your release. To be-

“My pretty fucking girl. Taking all of this dick for daddy, huh? Fucking come on me, princess.”

“That’s-” stroke “An-” stroke “Order.”

Your hips buckled as he pushed forward, kissing the end of your cervix. You felt his fluid coating your walls, glistening each surface area of you with his cream. Even when you were stuffed, droplets of his cum littered the floor, streaked down your thighs, and pooled underneath you.

“Suna~” you whined, “These are going to stain my stockings, again.” he responded by kissing your shoulder again. 

“I’ll just buy you another pair, doll. ‘Ts nothin’ when I get to see your pretty face like this.” and then, another devilish idea sparked in his head. He held the holsters again, turning you around to face his pelvis.

“How’s about one more round. And then you can tell your friends to meet you wherever you decide. My treat~” 

As you looked up at him, his dick jumped to life again. Both sides equally veiny, moistened, and waiting for your plush lips to wrap around them.

You didn’t say anything, all you did was smirk and latch your soft tongue around the base.

“Nnh-” Sukuna squeezed the holsters. “Good girl.’

“Good fucking girl.”

END.

Please leave a reply, like and reblog it really helps

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: How To Master An "Effortlessly Elegant" & Put-Together Look

Table of Contents:

Treat your skin like royalty

Take ample care of your natural hair

Dress in crisp neutral outfits that cater to your body shape

Choose your accessories wisely

Embrace feature-enhancing makeup

Keep your nails clean, filed, and simple

Regarding your signature scent(s)

Follow your dental & bodily hygiene routines religiously

Treat your skin like royalty:

Use high-quality skincare twice a day

Wear sunscreen every day

Remove your makeup every night before bed no matter what

Use makeup that doesn't clog your pores/irritate your skin

Change your pillowcases weekly

Eat plenty of produce & drink lots of water

Prioritize sleep

Limit or eliminate alcohol, cigarettes, caffeine, and processed foods/sugary drinks

Keep your skin exfoliated/derma-planed

Take ample care of your natural hair:

Use high-quality shampoo/conditioner combos that suit your hair type & don't cause build-up

Hydrate with a scalp mask 1-4 times a month

Use cold or lukewarm water to wash your hair

Apply shampoo to the roots/hair covering your scalp and conditioner only on the "ponytail" section of your hair

Use a specialty hair towel after getting out of the shower

Always comb wet hair and brush 1-3 times a day when dry

Limit heat on your hair when possible & always use a heat protectant every time you do

Use non-elastic or silk hair ties

Get regular trims at least 3-4 times per year (get your hair layered if it's very thick)

Try to limit how much you dye or, especially bleach, your hair and do elaborate styles with tons of heat & harsh products

Dress in crisp neutral outfits that cater to your body shape:

Embrace minimalist basics (tees, tanks, blouses, sweaters, jeans, trousers, blazers, leather jackets, coats, etc.) in high-quality fabrics (Pima cotton, Merino wool, Tencel, mulberry silk, etc.)

Choose options in black, white, grey, charcoal beige, navy, burgundy, or cream depending on your skin tone and preferences

Invest in a collection of sleek footwear options (black boots, loafers, black pumps, white sneakers, etc.) in minimalist, timeless styles that suit the color palette, hemlines & proportions of your go-to outfits

Ensure your shoes and accessories feel proportional to the weight/silhouette of your outfit, color-coordinate with the rest of your look, and have streamlined hardware from head-to-toe (all silver, all gold, or one piece that mixes silver/gold and another gold & silver piece each to balance out the color palette)

Keep all of your clothes steam and lint-rolled, so they look crisp & fresh all-day

Befriend your tailor to take in or let out clothes as needed when purchased off the rack

Choose clothes/styles that flatter your body shape and proportions

Utilize belts and bra tape to adjust the waist, keep shirts tucked in, and keep straps from falling down or create an impromptu cuff/hem on your pants

When in doubt, select a neutral head-to-toe monochrome outfit

If on a budget, consider choosing black, grey, camel beige items to hide fabric imperfections that could cheapen your look

Choose your accessories wisely:

Select sleek, simple neutral (& almost exclusively) monochrome shoes made with smooth (recycled/vegan) leather with

Pair almost any outfit with a shoe featuring a slight platform, block heel, kitten heel, and/or a sharply pointed toe to elongate your silhouette

Complement your outfit with structured, pared-back handbags with no logos (Focus on quality and construction, not the brand name) in a neutral shade and timeless silhouette

For jewelry, choose at most one statement piece and all others should be focused on different areas of the body (e.g. don't mix statement earrings with layered/bold necklaces or stacked rings * bracelets). When in doubt, choose simple diamond chains or earrings, sleek bangles or chainlink necklaces & bracelets, simple pendant necklaces, and minimalist rings in hardware that all go together

Embrace feature-enhancing makeup:

Cover up any dark circles, blemishes, or hyperpigmentation with a color-matched concealer

Lightly contour with a bronzer that complements your skin tone

Fill in your brows for a naturally full look (or get them professionally tinted)

Apply a light wash of rose, coral, or mauve blush

Use black mascara with a little bit of eyeliner and/or a subtle wash of brown eyeshadow on the lids

Apply a "your lips but better" nude shade or "just kissed' berry lipstick or pigmented lip balm for a subtle wash of color

Keep your nails clean, filed, and simple:

Maintain cut, cleaned, and filed short nails

Opt for a square or almond nail shape

Choose a timeless nail shade (pink, nude, red, beige, dark cherry, navy, dark purple, black) with no nail art

Hydrate your hands and scrub under your nails daily

Regarding your signature scent(s):

Ensure your body wash/lotion and perfume scents don't clash

Test perfumes for a trial day to ensure they smell divine with your unique pheromones

Choose a fragrance appropriate for the seasonal/occasion

Apply a dab on each wrist and on your neck/behind the ears. If the scent doesn't project well on you, try applying these small dabs on the cuffs and shoulders of your jacket/walk into it to get it on your hair (if it would stain your clothes)

Don't layer more than one heady perfume at a time or scents that don't have complementary and/or shared notes

Follow your dental & bodily hygiene routines religiously:

Floss every day (after each meal if possible)

Brush your teeth with an electric toothbrush twice a day

Have mints on hand if you're a garlic, spice, or coffee lover

Keep your lips & hands well-moisturized and protected with SPF

Shower your body daily and be extra diligent in scrubbing your privates, everything behind, and under your arms

Don't use very hot water in the shower (it burns/dries out your skin)

Exfoliate 2-3 times a week with a sugar scrub

Moisturize daily or anytime you get out of the shower

Apply SPF on any exposed sun (especially in the summer or when the UV index is high in your area)

[nvuy]

Boothill is a “your pleasure is my pleasure” kind of guy do u agree 🎤

mdni. im snatching the mic. i got carried away ty anon for giving me an excuse to ramble about this loser.

he takes pleasing you very seriously. this is serious business. it’s like his day job.

he’s half-convinced he was given a second life just to cross paths with you, so once he’s got you, he’s not letting you go. not for a while, at least. he’s stuck to your hip like glue. wherever you go, he’s most likely right next to you.

he’s always making sure you’re catered to first.

it’s the same in bed.

he’s extremely touch starved, so while he’s got his hand between your legs, he’s also busied himself nuzzling his cheek to yours to feel you helplessly panting against his skin. or, his ear is resting against your heart. whatever works for him in the moment.

he’s absolutely smitten with how warm you get. he’s always, always, pressing himself against you one way or another. just touch all over his face, please and thank you.

he’s all for kisses too. sometimes, when he’s having a bit too much fun, he’ll get all mushy and gross. not that he already isn’t, but it somehow gets worse.

he’ll bite too. not enough to make you bleed, but enough to leave an angry mark for the next few days.

actually, he just nips you all the time. it’s a weird thing he does. don’t point fingers in his face. he’ll try eating them. he’s very strange in that way. sometimes you can be gesturing at nothing while you talk, and if your fingers get too close to his face, he’s trying to nip at them like a teething puppy. you got used to it.

great tongue too. bonus points because it’s actually real. he works his magic with it, but only after you beg enough. you gotta work to get your hands on the merchandise. his mechanics are expensive, so play nice.

if we’re getting into unserious business, the robocock is great fun. it’s got smooth ridges and it’s cold. probably customisable, too. it’s definitely possible, but whether he’s gonna wander up to some poor mechanic and ask them to add some special features… well.

either way, your pleasure is always his priority. his hobbies consist of biting every single exposed expanse of your skin and exploring new ways to make you squirm.

it’s bad enough you having to deal with this lump of steel and scrap—frankly, he doesn’t even understand what’s so appealing about it—but if you enjoy bouncing on his lap, go ahead. do it all night for all he cares. as long as you have that pretty dizzy smile on your face by the end of it all. it makes him melt into a puddle of liquid metal knowing how good he makes you feel.

he’s also VERY susceptible to puppy eyes. they’re your greatest asset, and his biggest weakness.

you figured that out after you pleaded with him to put on these clothes you bought him (and, yep. these clothes have just as many cut outs as his usual attire). you can also use them if you want to do his hair. please convince him to wear it in a high ponytail more. he has such a nice face, and it also stops his neck from overheating. those poor fans need a vacation.

it takes some convincing, especially when you show him the hair tie is actually a red sparkly ribbon. you’re going to ruin his tough guy persona. but he’ll drop anything for you, so he’ll comply. on the condition that you give him smooches afterwards. it’s also an excuse for him to indulge in how your fingers feel against his scalp.

puppy eyes, crying, begging, whatever, usually get people he’s apprehended nowhere. he doesn’t care for theatrics. not at all. a criminal is a criminal at the end of the day.

but you? aww, how can he say no to your angel eyes? wanna fuck his face? you didn’t even have to ask! just watch the teeth. and feel free to pull his hair. wanna ride him until he short circuits? sure! if you can keep up. he’s all yours.

and when you’re done, his aftercare consists of coddling and pinching your cheeks. he’ll prattle on about nothing. the subject will change to gushing over how pretty you look in his bed, to the weather tomorrow, to how he misses the taste of spaghetti. he’ll even kiss all over the marks he’s left on you. probably kicks his feet too.

he’s still so energetic it’s mind-baffling. he’s so casual about it too, acting as if he didn’t beg for you to cum on his face just ten minutes ago.

but that’s robot stamina for you. or maybe it’s just a boothill thing. who knows?

after a while he’ll calm down. i still haven't decided if he can sleep, but once you’ve fallen asleep, he’ll lay next to you and draw patterns on the nape of your neck with his fingers.

[kaciidubs]

Hair Journey

❣ Summary: If he had to choose one thing he adored the most about you, it was your hair. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 2.6k ❣ Warnings: Black! Reader, fluff, slice of life, comfort, Chris has insecurity over his hair, hair talk, low self esteem, slight humor, discussion of future family ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chris is referred to as Christopher, Chris, Baby, and Channie, Reader is referred to as Baby ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

Christopher loved you more than words could ever describe - there weren’t enough languages in this universe that could even begin to express the hold you had on his heart; from the top of your head to the very soles of your feet, he adored you.

Of course, if asked about any particularly favorite parts about you, he would always start with your smile, something that was just so undeniably you it made his heart soar - or, for a non-physical attribute, he would choose your voice, reminiscing on the way your warm tone would guide him out of his loud thoughts, and how your soft whispers would lure him to sleep better than any ASMR could try.

However, the part of you he adored the most was your hair, something he never thought he’d ever find himself caring about on a person until he met you.

He could still remember the first day you met, how he found himself getting lost in the beautiful, ringlet curls that framed your face and seemed to defy gravity everywhere else. A few weeks down the line he’d encounter you again, but this time the curls he’d dreamt of were nowhere to be seen, instead, in their place were beautiful braids done up into a ponytail - but, what truly caught his eye, and ears, were the captivating sounds of the beads decorating the ends.

Mentally, he swore he would use the sound they made when they clacked together whenever your head would move with each laugh he charmed out of you in a song one day.

Eventually, he would get used to seeing you with a different style every other time you’d meet, and when you eventually got together and subsequently moved in with him, he found himself absolutely excited over learning your routines, and how they differed to his.

He’d learned that ‘wash day’ didn’t only reference laundry, and realized why whenever that time came around, you claimed you’d be busy the whole afternoon; it was truly a day, and the act of simply watching you go about your routine - with your permission, of course - had him feeling like he had gone through the carefully carried out tasks of detangling, washing, and detangling once more. 

Not to mention the time variation of either styling your hair from that point, or the arm numbing job of blow drying your hair in preparation for the appointment he’d always convince you to let him pay for - there was no way he could let himself not cater for you, especially after seeing the dedication it took to even prepare for it.

Hair appointments - those were probably the days he looked forward to the most, seeing the grand reveal of what style you chose to pamper yourself with for the next month or so. It didn’t matter to him if it was the simplest blowout, or the wonderfully blended tones of extensions set into twists or braids or locs or even a weave - which he was both amazed and terrified of when you’d first told him of the installation process, but you kissed his worries away as you reassured him that it was something you were completely fine with.

It had taken an embarrassingly long amount of time to find a hairdresser who was able to provide for your hair needs, but it was all worth it in his eyes whenever he’d get a notification on his phone while he was at work; a simple selfie with your new do and the following text ‘you like it?’. 

Thus, followed a blush that crept onto his ears, and the flying of thumbs across his screen as he gushed about how beautiful you looked while trying not to giggle like a giddy schoolboy - something his ever loving members never failed to point out.

In the end, no matter how many styles you’d have done, his favorite sight would always be when your hair was in its natural state; fluffy curls trained after a simple twist out that always left the apartment smelling like your products, pomegranate and honey following after you like the fresh waft of a freshly baked pie.

He loved your curls, and he’d never forget to remind you whenever he had the chance, they were the purest form of you, and nothing would ever surpass that in his heart.

But, his love for your hair seemed to be a double edged sword with the hatred of his own.

Well, hate was a strong word, but he wasn’t in love with his hair like he was with yours - your hair was beautiful, lively, cared for in a capacity he wished he had done for himself, but sadly he could only do so much when it came to his own head.

He leaned against the bathroom doorway as he watched you carefully take down this week's twist out, oiled fingers gently tugging and untwisting the sections as you went, eyes trained on your own reflection in the mirror.

“Channie, if you keep staring at me like that, you’re gonna burn a hole in the side of my face, baby.” You teased, turning your head to catch his eye with a glittering smile.

Shrugging, he didn’t even try fighting the smile that graced his lips as he stepped further into the shared bathroom, “I can’t help it, I was lucky enough to have a girlfriend as beautiful as you, it feels like a crime to not stare.”

Your shoulders shook in a light laugh as you shook your head, fluffing out the root of the twist to make sure it was fully undone, “You’re too much for me, you flirt.”

As you went back to tending to your hair, he took his new place by the counter to continue watching from an up close perspective.

Eventually all of your twists were out, and you started the next step of separating and fluffing to give your hair more volume, lips pursed as you thought of the final layout.

“I love your hair.” Chris breathed softly, utterly awestruck with the way some strands bounced back into place as you tugged and pulled.

A small smile curved your lips, “I love your hair too, baby.”

His heart clenched as the voice in his head suddenly came to life, refuting your statement like it was a debate based on false pretenses.

“You do? I thought you liked the orange?” He brushed a strand of black away from his forehead, recalling the night he decided to dye it black since his roots had been showing more than the orange could pass up.

“I mean, I did, but you know me,” shrugging lightly, you gave him a warm side eye, “your hair looks good in any color in my eyes, and as long as you like whatever style you’re going for, and it’s healthy, that’s all that matters.”

“So, if I said I wanted to cut-”

“Aht- Don’t even say those words, be quiet.”

He laughed at your diversion, fully aware of how you liked it when he had at least enough to run your fingers through, “I’m kidding, baby, I’m safe from the scissors… for now.” Running a hand through his hair, he sighed softly as he leaned further against the countertop.

If only it wasn’t curly…

“What?”

Chris froze, eyes widening while a rush of embarrassment washed over him - did he seriously say that out loud?

Clearing his throat, he shook his head, “I- Nothing, it wasn’t anything important.”

Of course, he couldn’t expect you to not notice the subtle change, not when his eyes fell from your face to focus on the small rips in his jeans, fingers looping through the threads nonchalantly.

“Chris?”

Guilt sunk his shoulders as he slowly looked up at you once more, his heart clenching at the worried dip of your eyebrows and the soft pout of your lips.

“Baby, do you really not like your curls?”

You’d been through the surface of this topic every now and then, from the introduction of his personalized hair care to the worried, late night discussions of the state of his hair and the reaction of stays whenever the stylists would introduce a new hair color for a comeback, or his own experimentation - but, you never thought his woes ran this deep.

“I… I mean…” He scrambled for an excuse, something to rationalize his completely irrational thoughts, but his mind ran dry and he sighed, “A little bit? It’s just- I showed you what my hair used to look like before, back when it was healthier, and my curls were easier to deal with because they were fine! I was used to dealing with them as often, but now it’s like… I don’t even know how to style my normal hair anymore and it’s aggravating because if I keep treating it, it’s just going to make things worse, you know?”

Now it was your turn to sigh, turning on the faucet to wash off the product from your hands before drying them with a paper towel, “Have I ever told you how I got my hair to the point that it’s at?”

Pausing, he wracked his brain for any hint of a memory, but when he came up empty he shook his head.

“Alright, well, I didn’t always have my natural hair,” you leaned your hip on the countertop, “at some point when I was young, my mom started to perm my hair - a perm that makes your hair straighter, easier to manage, especially for a little girl back in the day, perms were everywhere.”

Chris scanned your features, trying his best to imagine a version of you without the curly mane he’d loved so much; even when you straightened your hair or got a weave, he knew your curls would always come back eventually.

“Back then, I didn’t really think too much about my hair because I was still young, you know? As long as I had pretty barrettes, or, eventually, long straight hair like the girls I saw on TV, I was perfectly fine - then I got into high school and things changed.” A soft smile curled your lips, “One of my friends told me how she was going ‘natural’, and when I learned that she wasn’t perming her hair anymore and was letting her natural hair grow out, I wanted to do the same thing! I was tired of sitting in the kitchen chair with those gross smelling chemicals in my hair, and her hair was shorter, but prettier - she looked more like herself and I wanted that too.”

Despite how long ago the memory was, it still felt fresh whenever you thought of it, recalling the way the signs of your perm wearing off started to show, and how your hair slowly started to change with each passing week thereafter.

“Long story short, I went through a lot of stages with my hair, from straight, to this awkward phase of straight hair and fuzzy roots because I refused to cut my hair, to the first time I thought I found my true curl pattern, to the time I actually found my pattern and started feeling like I was me - no longer trying to fit an image required of me.” You tilted your head slightly, “I know you don’t have complete control over how you’re supposed to be publicly viewed with your hair, and I know how it feels going from something you were used to, to a completely different situation, but you shouldn’t start to hate your natural hair over it - you shouldn’t start to hate yourself over it.”

Chris bristled, taking a sharp breath as he looked down at his hands, his thumb rubbing at the pads of his other fingers anxiously.

Pushing away from the counter, you stepped in front of him, taking his hands in your own, “I understand it’s stressful trying to balance what you want and what’s required of you, but I want you to know that I love your hair; damaged curls or healthy, weird fuzzy phase or the prettiest pattern known to man, you’re doing what you can and I love you for it - just as much as you love me for mine.” Squeezing his hands, a soft giggle shook your shoulders, “And I’m sure there’s a lot of stays out there who agree that curly haired, natural Channie is the best.”

He managed to let out a watery chuckle, sniffling as he turned his head up to finally look at you, brown eyes swimming in unshed tears. “Even if they aren’t as fluffy as they used to be?”

“Especially if they aren’t as fluffy as they used to be, baby.” Bringing a hand to his cheek, you wiped away a stray tear, “You told me first hand, your hair was getting healthier, now it’s just a matter of time for your curls to follow suit, yeah? Plus, you’ve got me, I don’t mind helping you figure out how to style your hair, even if it’s just between me and you - anything to help you love your curls again.”

Nodding, he took a slow breath to calm his nerves, the guilt melting away to hopefulness the longer you caressed his cheek, “Does… Does that mean I’ll get to use your hair products too?”

You laughed heartily, shrugging, “I guess I can use some things on you, but there’s no way all of my products will work on your hair, Channie - we can go shopping and figure it out, but be prepared, it’s a long process.” Bringing your hand up to his lightly tousled hair, you tucked a few strands into place, “I actually can’t wait to use my peppermint oil on you, I think that’ll be the first step we take.”

“The one you use after your leave in conditioner?” He beamed, easily recalling the calming scent of the oil that - embarrassingly - put him to sleep faster than the occasional sleep routine you introduced him to. “I love that one, it makes your hair smell so good!”

“Yeah? Well your hair can smell like mine now!” Grinning up at him, a spark of mischief flashed in your eyes, “And, you know, when we figure out your curl pattern…”

Chris nodded, urging you to continue as he settled his hands onto your hips, “Mhm?”

“We’d have a good idea for whose hair our future kids would have.”

You pressed your lips together in an effort to contain the laughter shaking your shoulders, but when his eyes widened as he registered your words, you fell into a fit of giggles.

“You can’t just say things like that out of nowhere!” He whined, tugging you closer to lean his head forehead on your shoulder, extremely aware of the heat rising on his face and undoubtedly turning his ears red.

“But I’m not wrong! There’s no way we’re not gonna have curly-headed babies, Chris, we might as well try to figure out what they’d look like!”

“You’re going to be the death of me, baby.” Lifting himself from your shoulder, he silenced your laughs with a kiss, smiling against your lips as you kissed back without hesitation. He pulled away not long after, gazing at you with eyes filled with adoration, his heart swelling as you smiled up at him with the same look. “I love you.”

You hummed happily, “I love you too, now, can you help me make sure I got all the curls separated in the back?”

With a nod, he let you slip out of his hold to face the mirror once more, sliding behind you to carefully readjust any out of place curl while you fluffed out the front and sides - glancing up every now and then to see the adorably focused furrow of your brow.

Maybe one day he could picture himself standing next to you, styling his own, less curly hair, but he knew for certain he could picture a smaller combination of you both sitting on the counter with your eyes and his personality.

Hopefully, they'd have your hair, too.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia, @kpopsstuffs, @luvyev, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @laylasbunbunny, @zaethefangirl, @broken-glowsticks, @j-onedrabbles, @dawninnie, @dwaekkistar, @junglyric, @piercedddriver, @sometimesleeknows,

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[winxanity-ii]

RESONANCE

ship: various!bnha x fem!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 5.5k a/n: just wanted to spit out a lil one-shot, not sure if I'll make a full fic from this but who knows lolol; tell me what y'all think…

★·.·´🇲‌🇾‌ 🇭‌🇪‌🇷‌🇴‌ 🇦‌🇨‌🇦‌🇩‌🇪‌🇲‌🇮‌🇦‌/🇧‌🇳‌🇭‌🇦‌/🇲‌🇭‌🇦‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

All your life, people gravitated to you.

It was something that felt almost like gravity—a pull that made others orbit around you, with secrets and vulnerabilities spilling out like some cracked, overflowing dam.

They couldn't help it, and it wasn't something you actively tried to do either.

Your Quirk, Confidant, was a force of its own, turning you into an unwitting confessional booth for whoever happened to cross your path. Whether you were ready for it or not, they opened up.

There had been days when you tried to keep it off, to put up the wall and protect yourself from the sheer emotional weight that others dumped at your feet. But it took too much effort, too much focus to constantly repel that need in others.

If someone came to you, tearing up over a breakup or raging about the stress of everyday life, you'd let them; it was just easier to let it run its course.

And, sure, there weren't any physical drawback—no energy drained or migraines induced. But to you, there was a burden no one else seemed to recognize: the reboot.

Once someone started talking, your mind went into what you had nicknamed "short-reboot mode." It was like something within you flipped a switch, and suddenly, every part of you worked to cater to them.

Your eyes would track every shift in their expression, your ears catching every wobble in their voice. You'd analyze, break down every cue, every breath, until your responses flowed with practiced ease—the words that person needed to hear, the exact tone that made them relax.

Sometimes, you'd offer a soft, comforting touch. Other times, you'd say nothing at all, just be a presence there to anchor them.

When it was over, and they'd leave—well, that was when things got weird.

Not for them; no, for them it was almost as if a fog rolled over their memory of the whole thing. A protective influence that made the event seem far-off, unimportant, a comforting haze to keep them from fixating on you.

For you, though? You'd collapse in bed later on, mind swimming with everything you'd absorbed, while the Quirk worked behind the scenes to sort and compartmentalize every scrap of information.

It all got stored away—permanently—so you'd never forget.

And because of that, you hated it.

You hated how your brain worked on autopilot for everyone else, how every emotional exchange was something you'd retain forever while the small, everyday things slipped right through the cracks.

You'd put down your phone and lose it within minutes, or take things into a room one by one when you could easily grab everything at once. Your grandfather loved to tease you about it, always laughing as he cackled out, "Book sense, not a lick of common sense!"

Today, it was no different.

You groaned as you walked down the stairs from your bedroom, a yawn escaping your lips as you shuffled along.

You looked every bit as tired as you felt—oversized hoodie hanging loosely from your shoulders, the fabric wrinkled and slightly twisted, and your oversized socks pooling around your ankles.

Your clothes were a patchwork of dark shades, clinging to you in a way that made it clear you'd grabbed whatever was closest without a second thought. Your hair was pulled back into a lazy ponytail, secured with a shoelace of all things, because you couldn't find a single rubber band.

You sucked your teeth at the thought, recalling how bit by bit, you had given away every one of your hairbands over the last few weeks to others who needed them. "I just bought that bulk pack," you muttered under your breath, feeling the mild frustration bubble up as you ambled into the kitchen.

The moment you stepped into the bright atmosphere of the kitchen, it felt like you were walking into another world. The colors, the light, the very mood—all of it was the opposite of you. The kitchen was warm, sunlight pouring in through the curtains, highlighting the cheery yellow walls.

Your mother was already bustling around, her cotton candy pink hair tied neatly at the base of her neck, her slender form moving with practiced grace as she prepared breakfast.

Her skin was a deep, rich shade of brown, and her eyes were bright yellow, almost glowing, with small opal-like moles at the corners that caught the morning light. She looked like something from a storybook, too perfect for the mundane scene unfolding around her.

The moment she noticed you shuffling over, she gasped softly, a bright smile blooming across her face. "Good morning, ____~," she sang, her voice lilting and sweet. "Did you have a good rest?"

You grunted in response, barely managing to pull the chair out before plopping down into it, your face half-hidden by the hood of your sweatshirt.

"That's great, sweetie~," she chirped, entirely unfazed by your lack of enthusiasm. She set a plate of food in front of you, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your cheek. "Eat up. Your big brother will be taking you to school soon—you know how he gets about wanting you to be on time." She gave you one last gentle pat before twirling away, humming to herself, lost in her own vibrant little world.

It wasn't long before the rest of your family joined you. Your father and brother came down the stairs only seconds later, both of them just as bright and awake as your mother.

Your brother's footsteps were loud and purposeful as he approached, his hand ruffling your hair as he passed by. "Morning, sis," he said, his voice cheerful, a bright grin lighting up his face.

"Morning," you mumbled, barely looking up.

Your father followed, his broad shoulders taking up the space in the doorway for a moment as he stepped into the kitchen. His blue hair was tousled but neat, the same shade as the sky on a crisp morning. His green eyes were sharp but softened when he looked at you, a smile spreading across his face.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Good morning, little love," he said, his voice deep and warm, wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

You sighed softly, nodding in response as they settled at the table.

Your mother moved between them, setting their plates down before finally taking a seat herself, her smile unwavering as she looked at all of you.

The scene was perfect, almost unreal in its harmony—the three of them chatting easily over breakfast, their voices blending together with the soft sound of birds chirping outside the window.

Even though it was a regular, cloudy day, the kitchen seemed filled with sunshine, the warmth radiating from your family like a beacon. Everything about the morning—the bright voices, the gentle smiles—made it feel mythical, as if you were living in a fairytale.

It was always like this: your family's moods almost too perfect, too light. How could they not be, though, when they had you? Built-in therapist, problem solver, always there to smooth over any tension, any hint of unease.

They could always be at their best because you carried the weight for them.

As everyone finished up, your brother stood, gathering the dishes and taking them to the sink. Your mother got up as well, moving to grab everyone's packed lunches for the day.

Your father turned to you, his gaze softening as he addressed you. "____," he started, his voice gentle but with a hint of something else—hesitation, maybe? "Could you come by my agency later after school? We've got a case... or, well, a patient. I could use your help again."

You hummed, a small sound of acknowledgment as you poked at the last bit of food on your plate. "Sure," you said, though the idea of it made your shoulders droop a little. It wasn't that you didn't want to help, but the thought of more people, more emotions, more weight, felt heavy already.

Your father's smile brightened, and he reached over, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, little love. You know it means a lot to me." He worked as a hero, and it wasn't uncommon for him to ask for your help.

He ran an agency called Constellation, and his quirk, Record, a photographic memory that worked both by touch and mentally, made him one of the best at what he did. He primarily worked with police and undercover heroes, solving cases that required an eye for detail that few others had.

Ever since you'd gained your quirk, he'd relied on you for the more delicate matters—the emotional weight of things that even he couldn't quite process alone.

A few seconds later, your brother returned, his grin blinding as he held out your backpack and lunch. "C'mon, sleepyhead," he said, his eyes bright with excitement. "I got your stuff. Let's go catch the train."

You pushed your chair back, standing up with a stretch. "Yeah, yeah," you muttered, taking the bag from him. You turned to your parents, waving lazily over your shoulder. Your mother and father stood side by side, your father's arm wrapped around your mother's waist. She towered over him with her lithe frame, his head just reaching her collarbones. "Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad."

"Bye, sweetheart!" your mother called, her voice as sunny as ever.

"Have a good day, little love," your father added, giving you one last smile before you followed your brother out the door.

The cool morning air hit you as your brother led the way down the sidewalk, his usual confident stride carrying you both towards the train station.

You glanced over at him, watching as he talked animatedly, his hands moving to emphasize whatever point he was making. He was always like this—full of energy, especially in the mornings, unlike you, who was still trying to wake up.

As you both settled into your seats on the train, your brother continued to talk, his voice carrying over the quiet hum of the train. He was telling you all about his third year at Shiketsu High, his eyes sparkling as he described how different and fast-paced everything was compared to the previous year.

He even started rambling about his work-study with Fatgum, who he mentioned was an alumnus of Shiketsu High, and his fellow collegues, some guys named Suneater and Red Riot.

You glanced at your brother as he spoke, taking in his features. He looked like a perfect mix of both your parents.

His hair was a blend of your mother's bright pink and your father's deep blue, swirling together like cotton candy, giving him a vibrant and almost ethereal look.

His eyes were a mesmerizing combination of green and yellow—a galaxy of colors that seemed to shift with his mood, as if reflecting the emotions he felt around him.

Scattered across the bridge of his nose were luminescent, opal-like freckles, glowing faintly in the light as he spoke. They weren't just decorative; they were part of his Quirk, Emotilink—which was inherited from your mother—would glow and shift in color depending on the emotions of those he touched, allowing him to feel the emotions of others.

Together, their abilities made them almost like human mood rings, their markings betraying the emotional states of anyone in their vicinity.

Your brother was tall and broad-shouldered, his husky build making him seem both strong and comforting. His skin tone was a perfect, ambiguous shade—not quite pale, not quite dark—striking a balance that made him stand out without fitting neatly into any one category.

He carried himself with a confidence that only seemed to amplify the presence of his quirk, his luminescent markings always a glowing reminder of what he could do.

You, on the other hand, looked nothing like the rest of your family.

When you were younger, you'd had your mother's yellow eyes and your father's blue hair. But after your Quirk had manifested, everything about you seemed to change.

Your features had shifted, becoming more subdued, less distinct, until you were left with an appearance that could only be described as forgettable. Your hair had dulled to a mousy brown, and your eyes had lost their vibrancy, now a muted shade that seemed to blend in with the rest of you.

Sometimes you wished your Quirk was just that—forgettableness. Maybe then you wouldn't feel the weight of everyone else's emotions pressing down on you.

You were pulled from your thoughts when your brother grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but gentle as he pulled you up from your seat. "Let's go," he said, his voice filled with his usual enthusiasm.

You barely had time to react before he was practically dragging you out of the train and towards the school.

It was a routine you were used to by now—your brother carrying you along, making sure you got where you needed to be without any issue.

He didn't even break a sweat as he deposited you in front of the school gates, his hands moving to smooth out your clothes and pat down your hair, completely uncaring of the looks you both were getting from the other students.

"Aaand... there!" he said, stepping back with a satisfied smile. He handed you your backpack, his grin widening. "Alright, sleepyhead, I'll meet you here after school to take you to Dad's agency, okay?"

You nodded, adjusting the straps of your backpack. "Yeah, okay," you replied, your voice barely louder than a mumble.

He bent down, staring you right in the face with a grin. "Have a great day, alright?" he said, his eyes filled with warmth and encouragement. He reached out, ruffling your hair one last time before turning to head towards his own school. "See ya later!"

You watched him go, a sigh escaping your lips as you turned to face the school. You never really understood why he insisted on taking you to school every morning, especially when his own school was a twenty-minute walk in the opposite direction.

But then again, he'd managed to maintain perfect attendance for the past two years, so he must have been doing something right.

With another sigh, you pulled out your headphones, hoping that maybe—just maybe—they would be enough to keep people away today. You knew it was a long shot, but it was worth a try.

As you walked through the gates and into the bustling courtyard, you could already feel the familiar pull—the curious eyes, the hesitant glances, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.

You pushed your headphones over your ears, the music drowning out the noise around you, but it wasn't enough.

It never was.

You stayed behind in the classroom during lunch, deciding to give yourself a break from the constant buzz of students. The cafeteria was always too loud, too busy, and you needed a moment to just be alone.

You pulled out a packet of fries you had bought earlier, munching on them absentmindedly while staring out of the window. The clouds rolled lazily across the sky, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to drift off, letting the quiet calm your racing mind.

You were jolted out of your thoughts when you heard your name being called. You turned, startled, to see your homeroom teacher hovering near the doorway. "____," she called again, her voice soft but carrying an unmistakable edge.

Your teacher, Ms. Hachiko, was hard to miss. She had a distinctly bee-like appearance, with large, round eyes that shimmered like polished onyx, and her entire body was covered in soft, fuzzy yellow fur.

Two delicate antennae sprouted from her forehead, and her long hair was pinned back into a neat bun. She floated a few inches off the ground, her wings fluttering quietly behind her.

But it wasn't just her that caught your attention. Standing behind her, with his shoulders slouched and an unmistakable frown etched across his face, was none other than Aizawa Shouta—the underground hero, Eraserhead.

You felt your eyes widen, and you choked on the fry you had just been eating, your throat seizing in shock. You coughed, hitting your chest several times as tears welled up in your eyes.

Both adults stood there, awkwardly waiting as you hacked out a few more coughs. When you finally managed to catch your breath, Ms. Hachiko gave you an apologetic smile. "____, you need to speak with Eraserhead here," she said, her antennae twitching slightly. "I'll leave you two to it," she added before fluttering out of the room, her wings buzzing softly.

You were left alone with Aizawa, who ambled over to the desk beside you and dropped himself into the seat, his tired eyes fixed on you.

He was wearing his hero uniform, his capture weapon loosely wrapped around his neck, and his dark hair hung messily around his face. He looked exhausted, deep lines etched beneath his eyes, but even then, there was something undeniably striking about him. He had an air of quiet authority that demanded respect, no matter how disheveled he appeared.

He stared at you for a moment before finally speaking. "Look, kid, I'm not sure why Nezu sent me here," he began, his tone blunt, "but apparently, you're needed for something. Honestly, you're a child, and you shouldn't even be involved in this. But here we are."

You blinked at him, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that thee Eraserhead was sitting in front of you, talking to you. He let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. "Have you heard about the recent villain attack on the UA first-year training camp?"

You nodded slowly, recalling the news you had heard about it weeks ago. You remembered hearing that it was the same group of first-year students that had already had a run-in with villains at the USJ. "Yeah, I heard about it," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "They got some crappy luck..."

Aizawa gave a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, it's been rough on them, that's for sure. The thing is, my boss, Principal Nezu, wants you to help the students who were most affected by the attack—Class 1-A. The other students have been able to get help from their assigned therapists, but Class 1-A... they're different. They've built a wall around themselves so thick that not even the best world-renowned therapists can break through. They think this is just part of being a hero, that they have to suck it up and move on."

You frowned, a slight pang of pity tugging at you as you listened. You knew what he was asking before he even finished explaining. It wasn't like you had a choice anyway. If Nezu, the head of UA, was asking, then your small, out-of-the-way school, Okiyama Municipal High, wasn't exactly in a position to say no.

With a heavy sigh, you slumped back in your chair, dropping your half-eaten packet of fries onto the desk. "Will I be back before school is over?"

Aizawa rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed with your lack of enthusiasm. "Yes, you'll be back before the end of the day. Nezu already spoke with your parents. One of your father's sidekicks will pick you up from UA bring you straight to his agency. It shouldn't take too long—you're just meeting them and getting a quick assessment."

Shoulders slouching, you could already picture the long, draining night ahead of you. With a resigned sigh, you pushed yourself out of your seat, nodding reluctantly. "Alright, fine," you muttered, gesturing for Aizawa to lead the way. "Let's get this over with, then."

Aizawa gave you a curt nod, standing up as well. You followed him down the hallway, the silence between you two heavy but not uncomfortable.

It wasn't long before you were out of your small school building and on your way to UA, sitting beside the underground hero in a rather unremarkable car, driven by a UA staff member.

You were about to meet the students who had faced villains twice now, and you knew that whatever you were walking into, it wasn't going to be easy.

When you arrived at UA, the sight that greeted you was different from what you remembered. You had been to UA before, a few years ago when your brother brought you along during his campus tour while deciding where to attend high school.

Back then, UA had been impressive, sure, but now it looked almost like a university campus—new dormitories and additional buildings scattered across the grounds, giving it the appearance of a bustling college rather than just a high school.

Noticing your confused expression, Aizawa spoke up, his voice gruff but explanatory. "After the training camp attack, UA opened up dormitories to house students. Villains have become more audacious lately, targeting students even outside school grounds. The dorms are an extra precaution, meant to keep them safe."

You nodded, taking in the new structures as Aizawa led you through the campus. It made sense, given how much had happened to these students already. You felt a small pang of sympathy for them—it couldn't be easy, constantly looking over their shoulders, waiting for the next attack.

Eventually, you arrived at one of the dorm buildings, and Aizawa opened the door, ushering you inside.

You stepped into a spacious common area, expecting to see a dozen traumatized, weary teens gathered together. Instead, there were just two people sitting on the couch, their attention fixed on the television in front of them.

The room was warm and cozy, a stark contrast to the tension you felt brewing inside you.

The moment the door opened, both heads snapped towards you, their bodies relaxing slightly when they realized it was Aizawa. The redhead sitting closest to the door smiled brightly, while the blonde beside him scowled, his eyes narrowing.

"Kirishima," Aizawa grunted, his tone carrying a hint of exasperation, "where is everyone?"

The redhead—Kirishima, you assumed—grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh, some of them went out shopping, Sensei. And Deku and Shoto are out training."

Aizawa let out a long-suffering sigh, rubbing his forehead as if trying to stave off a headache. "I thought I told you all to stay put because you had an important visitor coming."

The blonde on the sofa snorted, his voice dripping with irritation. "What important guest, Sensei? Don't tell me it's that pipsqueak over there," he said, jerking his head in your direction.

You blinked, taken aback for a moment before letting out an affronted scoff. "Pipsqueak? I have you know, I'm taller than average," you sniffed, crossing your arms defensively.

The blonde gave you a withering look, scoffing again. "In what? Middle schoolers?"

Before you could retort, Aizawa intervened, his tired eyes narrowing at the blonde. "Bakugo, stop," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He turned back to you, his expression softening slightly. "I was told to bring you here, so even though not all of them are here, you've got two clients. Have fun," he said, giving you a small wave over his shoulder as he left the room.

You stared after him, your stomach sinking slightly. "Clients?" Kirishima asked, tilting his head in confusion as he looked at you.

You forced a smile, feeling awkward under their curious gazes. "Uh, yeah. I'm here to... help you guys. I guess you could say I'm kind of like a counselor," you explained, scratching the back of your head.

Kirishima's eyes widened in surprise before his expression broke out into a wide grin. He jumped up from the couch, crossing the room in a few quick strides to extend his hand to you. "Well, that's super manly! So young, yet already helping people like this. I'm Kirishima Eijiro," he said, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

You took his hand, shaking it a bit hesitantly. His grip was strong but friendly, and you couldn't help but notice the small details about him—his bright red spiky hair, the way his eyes seemed so genuine and open, the muscular build that made it clear he took his training seriously.

There was an energy about him that reminded you of your brother—that same relentless positivity.

Lord, it seemed you had found someone who could give your brother a run for his money.

"I'm Hanabira ____," you replied, your voice a bit more steady now.

The moment your name left your mouth, Eijiro's eyes widened even further, and he let out a gasp. "No way! You’re The Emotional Hero: Emberpulse's sibling?!"

You blinked, taken aback. "Uh, yeah?"

Eijiro's grin grew impossibly wider as he continued, "Your brother talks about you all the time! It's like I practically know you already. He says you're always helping people out, even when it's not easy, and that you have this way of making everyone feel better just by being around."

You raised an eyebrow, a bit skeptical. "How did you even know? Our last name isn't exactly unique, and we don't look alike at all."

Eijiro blinked, then broke out into another grin, shrugging as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I don't know, honestly. Your brother just said you gave off this aura of immediate kindness. Like, you just have this energy that makes people feel safe, you know? So when you introduced yourself, it kind of clicked."

A gruff voice cut in before you could respond. "Only you would make such a dumbass connection, Shitty-Hair," the blonde from earlier muttered, standing up from the couch. He turned to face you, his intense eyes boring into yours.

He had a scowl permanently etched onto his face, his posture confident and almost confrontational. His blond hair was unruly, and you couldn't help but notice the small, almost imperceptible twitches of annoyance in his expression—like he was constantly teetering on the edge of irritation.

Eijiro just laughed, seemingly unaffected by the insult. "That's Bakugo Katsuki, my best friend," he said, gesturing to the blonde. Katsuki sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes but not bothering to say anything further.

Eijiro turned back to you, his expression softening slightly. "So, uh, what exactly are you here for?"

You sighed, holding your hands up. "Like Aizawa-san said, I'm here to help, but it's not exactly like I'm a therapist or anything. I didn't ask to be here either," you said, your tone a bit defensive.

Katsuki scoffed, crossing his arms. "We don't need a damn therapist," he muttered, clearly unimpressed.

You gave him a flat look, deciding not to engage in an argument. Eijiro, sensing the tension, quickly stepped in. "Hey, don't mind him. He's just... like that," he said, scratching his head awkwardly. "Uh, would you like to join us? We were just watching a movie."

You shrugged, figuring you might as well. "Sure," you said, trying to sound casual.

Internally, you figured it was better to stay and at least try to connect with them, given that the rest of the students weren't even there. Plus, Katsuki seemed like he'd be impossible to talk to seriously right now.

The three of you settled on the couch, and Eijiro quickly started chatting again, asking you questions about your brother, your Quirk, and your school. He leaned in a bit closer whenever you answered, his eyes bright with curiosity and genuine interest.

You could tell he was trying to understand you better, his questions growing more specific as the conversation progressed.

At one point, he asked about your brother's favorite hobby, sharing how they had bonded during training sessions over their shared love of working out.

"You know, your brother's kind of like a legend," Eijiro said, his eyes wide with admiration. "I know I already told you, but he always talks about you, and I was really excited to finally meet you. He says you're his biggest inspiration."

You felt a warmth spread across your chest—a mix of pride and embarrassment. You gave a small smile, shrugging. "He always exaggerates. I'm really not that special."

Eijiro shook his head vigorously, his red hair bouncing slightly. "No way! I can totally see it. You've got this calming vibe. It's like... you make everything seem a little less scary, you know?" His gaze lingered on you for a moment, and you could feel a slight buzz in the back of your mind—a familiar haze that signaled your Quirk almost activating.

You blinked, suddenly hyper-aware of your body language, realizing that your posture had subtly shifted to mirror Eijiro's, your smile matching his intensity.

Quickly, you broke eye contact, focusing on Katsuki instead, who was watching the interaction with an annoyed expression.

He caught your gaze, and his scowl deepened. "Don't let Shitty-Hair butter you up. He's got a habit of getting all sentimental," Katsuki muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Eijiro laughed, giving Katsuki a playful nudge. "Aw, come on, Bakugo. Just trying to make our guest feel welcome."

Katsuki rolled his eyes, but there was no real bite behind his irritation. "Yeah, whatever. Just don't go crying on us, idiot."

The conversation shifted, and Eijiro asked more about your school life. You found yourself relaxing again, the haze receding as you focused on answering his questions.

He seemed genuinely fascinated by even the mundane details—how you spent your days, what subjects you liked, even your least favorite lunch options. There was a warmth in his attention, a genuine desire to know you, that made it easy to keep talking.

Time seemed to pass quicker than you expected, and even Katsuki, though gruff and standoffish, eventually chimed in with a few sarcastic comments.

You noticed that, despite his harsh words, he never actually dismissed anything you said. It was as if he begrudgingly accepted your presence, though he made sure to keep up his rough exterior.

At one point, Eijiro nudged you lightly with his elbow, a grin on his face. "You know, I think you and Bakugo would get along great if you gave it a shot. He acts tough, but he's got a good heart. Right, Explosion Boy?"

Katsuki's glare could have cut glass. "Don't drag me into your dumb ideas, Shitty-Hair," he snapped, but there was a faint blush on his cheeks, barely noticeable.

Eijiro just laughed again, unbothered, and you couldn't help but smile. It was strange, but you found yourself feeling a sense of comfort in their dynamic—like, despite their differences, they had a bond that was hard to break.

After what felt like a couple of hours or so, there was a knock at the dorm door. Aizawa entered, followed by one of your father's sidekicks, who gave you a nod. "Time to go," the sidekick said, their voice gentle but firm.

You stood up, giving Eijiro a small wave. "I guess I’ll see you around," you said.

Eijiro grinned, giving you a thumbs-up. "For sure! And thanks for coming by, ____. It was... nice."

You nodded, turning to follow Aizawa and the sidekick out of the dorms.

The ride to your father's agency was quiet, your mind still replaying the interactions you had just had. You found yourself mentally sorting through the profiles you had unconsciously built on both Eijiro and Katsuki so far.

Eijiro was enthusiastic, open, and incredibly genuine—his positivity seemed almost endless, and you could tell he was the kind of person who made it his mission to uplift others.

He had this earnestness that made you feel at ease, like he genuinely cared about the people around him. He was always leaning in, listening intently, and his questions showed just how interested he was in knowing you.

There was something infectious about his energy, and it reminded you so much of your brother—the way they both could fill a room with warmth just by being themselves.

Katsuki, on the other hand, was more of a closed book. He was gruff, blunt, and had an intensity that made it hard to know what he was really thinking.

Yet, underneath all of that, you could see small glimpses of something else—his scowl wasn't always as sharp as he wanted it to be, and he had moments where it felt like he begrudgingly accepted your presence.

He never outright dismissed you, and while his comments were sarcastic, they didn't carry the kind of malice you might have expected.

It was almost like he was challenging you to see past the tough exterior, to prove that you could handle being around him.

When you arrived, your father was waiting for you, his expression stern.

He grabbed your arm, his eyes serious as he looked at you. "Listen carefully," he said, his voice low. "The villain you're about to interact with is dangerous. He was part of the Vanguard Action Squad—Mustard. He's unpredictable, so I need you to be cautious. Understand?"

You swallowed, nodding. "Got it, Dad."

He gave you a small, almost reluctant smile, his grip on your arm loosening. "Good. Just... be careful, alright, little love?"

You nodded again, feeling the weight of what was about to come settle heavily in your chest.

This was just another part of your Quirk, another responsibility you had to shoulder—whether you wanted to or not.

A/N: so what's the verdit? will it be good as a fic or just do a one-shot series???

[coralinnii]

❋Keeping your scrunchie for you❋

Who would keep your scrunchie for you, and would even do your hair feat: Ace ⭑ Sebek ⭑ Azul ⭑ Jack genre: fluff, humor note: reader has hair that uses scrunchies, reader has hair for long hair hairstyles, established relationships, no pronouns used,

I know it's been a while but I have been meaning to write. I just have what I'm calling Silver Syndrome where I fall asleep at any given moment and lose track of time ^_^' whoops

This is sorta self-indulgent since I’m also guilty of always forgetting my hair ties at my friend’s place and when I need one, they would come to me with their arm filled with them xD. Since then, we would always have spares on each other in case any of us need them. 

Getting him to keep it

At first he was gonna tease you. What? Do you feel the need to lay claim on him that you want to leave something of yours on him for all to see? You know there’s more than a hair tie you can leave on him- 

Oh, you’re just forgetful and you want to have a spare on him if you need one? You guys are practically attached to the hip so there’s logic to it, to you anyway. 

He's so gonna fight you on it. It’s one thing to ask him to keep spare some small hair ties on him, heck if you let him use them on occasion he wouldn’t mind at all. But it was those poofy, colorful scrunchies that he can’t even hide underneath his jacket sleeve. 

But he loses this fight with you (he always does when it comes to you) and ends up with a cutesy hair tie that contrasts heavily against his black school jacket. He had to fight the embarrassed flush every time he got teased, especially by his upperclassmen like Cater and Floyd. 

Don’t let his loud complaining fool you, though. Despite all the teases, he still keeps your scrunchie out in the open when he could have easily stuffed it in his pocket. He secretly likes fidgeting with it during class, partly since it’s really soft and partly that it reminds him of you. He thinks a lot about how pretty you look when you have your hair up. 

Would he tie your hair?

Yes, but he wasn't great at it. At first, he can do a simple ponytail but that’s all he really knows about hairstyles. I mean, he only ever ties his bangs back so he’s not the most creative in the hair department. 

Have some patience with him as he sometimes messes up and gets your hair tangled. He’s a fast learner so he’ll get the hang of it. 

Once he’s used to it, he’ll start experimenting with your hair by giving you goofy hairdos like a unicorn horn on your head. He once tried to make round cartoon-like “ears” with your hair for giggles. But he always offers to brush your hair back to normal each and every time. 

Actually, Ace likes to mess with your hair a lot more often now because this gives him a chance to brush your hair. He enjoys the intimacy of the activity, like you two are in your own little world with no one to disturb you. He can spend hours just running his fingers through your hair while you chat about anything and everything. 

“Hey, stop moving around so much! Don’t go complaining to me if this new hairdo turns out bad”

Getting him to keep it

Definitely gonna fight you on this. He argued that you should be responsible enough to remember to keep spares on you at all times. It’s your own fault for being so forgetful about your own things. Plus, it goes against his dress code and he can’t bear to ruin Malleus’ reputation just because his loyal knight has a bright puffy scrunchie on his wrist.

You decided it’s fine if he can’t do it but it did bum you out a bit. Imagining the serious Sebek with your bright scrunchie on his wrist would be the cutest thing to see but you didn’t want to push it if it caused this much arguing. 

But Sebek noticed your declining mood and started to have conflicted thoughts because of it. Would it really make you that happy to see him with that tacky thing on his arm? 

The next day, Sebek came up to you and wordlessly raised his arm towards you. Confused, you asked the green-haired freshman what’s wrong. 

“...I shall allow it” 

“What?”

Apparently, Sebek couldn’t get your sad face out of his head all day yesterday, ruining his mood and causing him to stress out with worry. Lost as to what to do, he did what he tends to do in these situations, and asked Lilia for advice. The older fae chuckled at poor Sebek and assured him that a trivial piece of fabric would hardly ruin Malleus’ image so he is free to decide what he wants to do. 

And Sebek wants to make you happy. 

“Give me your cursed scrunchie, human”

Would he tie your hair?

Again, he’s going to fight you on this. He claims he has better things to do but really he’s just terrible with styling hair and was scared if you didn’t like his work. Unless you want your hair gelled up like his, he doesn’t know what else he can really do with hair in general. 

Still, you encouraged him to try and with you boosting his courage, he started trying simple hairstyles like braids and ponytails. He was a little clumsy but always up to improve himself. He soon became more confident and would even offer to tie your hair up during P.E classes or club activities. 

He especially likes trying out hairstyles that are trendy with his fae kind, like braiding flowers into your hair. The people of Briar Valley are more traditional with their appearance and more extravagant hairstyles are typically reserved for special occasions like parties…or weddings. 

The way Sebek’s cheeks burned when he couldn’t stop thinking how beautiful your hair might look for your wedding…with him as your husband-to-be. Your hair would be absolutely ethereal no matter the style, considering that it’s you-what was he thinking?! 

Best not to bring up his bright face or he’ll start yelling out of sheer embarrassment. 

“...Well, is this to your liking? It is?...I see… What?! I was not worried, don’t be absurd!” 

Getting him to keep it

For the right price, sure. 

I’m joking (kinda) but honestly Azul wouldn’t mind it since it wasn’t that big of a request. I firmly believe that he has more than enough pockets with his dorm uniform. 

Anyone who would even try to tease him about it would just be asking for humiliation as Azul would respond swiftly with some backhanded comments. 

“Embarrassing, you say? Well, I suppose having a lover that relies on me so would seem tiresome to some people. However, I'm afraid I'm just so smitten with my adorable lover who just trust me so. Sighhh, woe is me” 

This octoman would play the “no b*tches?” card. Such poor, unfortunate souls

But one day you needed a hair tie and you asked Azul if he still had your spare. The merman then pulled out a scrunchie you didn't recognize from his pocket

“Azul Ashengrotto…whose scrunchie is this?!” 

Before you start to panic, Azul quickly explained that he came across this scrunchie at a store in the town near the campus. 

“I thought this would look good on you, so I bought it in hopes it suits your taste” 

Even though Azul tried to sound casual, there was a cute flush coloring his cheeks that he was trying to hide behind his gloved hand. He knew you had enough hair ties and you could always buy more yourself. But, he just couldn't stop himself.

That scrunchie was now your new favorite accessory.

Would he tie your hair?

Contrary to the previous boys, Azul has a better sense of style due to his entrepreneurial nature and his dedicated interest to keep up with the most marketable trends. 

I also believe that since Azul is a mommy’s boy, he paid close attention to his mother’s hair styling routine. However, he realizes that it won’t exactly be the same considering you both are not in the ocean and he himself is adjusting to life with dry hair. 

But he won’t be stopped by his inexperience. He would research the best hairstyles for your hair type and what would amplify your natural features. Every chance to do your hair was a chance to improve his skills. Get real comfortable because you’ll be his guinea pig for hours. At least you’ll be a beautiful guinea pig by the end of it. 

At first Azul had some insecurities about keeping you for so long, surely you would be bored being with him for so long and having him practice with your hair, especially when you wouldn't really gain much from it other than a mess on your head most of the time. 

Please reassure him that you love these intimate moments with him and you trust him wholeheartedly with your hair. 

“I’ve heard stories that speak of mermaids that used to lure humans with their beautiful hair. I thought it foolish to be so easily charmed…but seeing yours, I suppose there’s some truth to that.”

Getting him to keep it

Grumbled about it at first but will keep it for you. Any exasperation was mostly just you asking him because of your tendency to forget them than anything else. Despite his grumpy look, Jack wasn’t going to fight you on something as trivial as holding some hair ties for you. Would question you what’s so great about scrunchies, though (they’re adorable, ok?!)

All he asked was that it’s a scrunchie that doesn’t get in the way of his daily routine, and if you could pick one that would be a bit water resistant or dark in color since he’s worried that he would get it dirty during his work-out routine or spelldrive practice at Savanaclaw. 

He honestly doesn’t understand why anyone would make fun of him for holding a scrunchie for you. He's whipped because you trust him with your stuff? This man just can’t relate to loser behavior. 

Even if he's not a fan of scrunchies, he’s still incredibly careful with your hair tie, making sure that it’s either tucked safely under his sleeve or mindful to avoid accidentally snagging the fabric on something. 

If he just recently got the scrunchie from you, he can still smell the scent of your shampoo on it as it starts mixing with his own scent. Don’t tell him but some of his dormmates can see his tail slightly wagging when he glimpses down to his wrist every now and again where your hair tie is.

Would he tie your hair?

He’ll fight more on this. You guys are in an academy, you should be able to tie your own hair. Don’t be lazy, he stated. 

But watch him later try to excuse his actions when he suddenly pulls your hair back with your scrunchie during lunch, just so your hair doesn’t get in your face as you ate. You honestly forgot he still had your scrunchie and Jack was getting frustrated watching your hair constantly falling forward every time you tried to reach your food. 

Since Jack has younger siblings, he has some experience with tying someone’s hair despite having fairly short hair himself. It’s nothing too fancy but he’s pretty good with some basic hairstyles

He’s really gentle with your hair, occasionally pausing to gauge your expression to ensure you’re not in pain. Sometimes you have to be careful or you might just fall asleep with how Jack’s large hands softly handle your hair like it was silk.

“This should keep your hair out of your face. Huh, how do you look? Don’t ask stupid questions…you already know you always look good…No, forget I said anything!”

[jjksblackgf]

the lick it series

summary — it's in the ups and downs of life that you can find someone to make your toes curl. genre — smut, established relationship au rating — 21+

cater to you

pairing — kim seokjin x reader summary — Seokjin likes to get pampered by his partner. He's also a fan of the ponytail trope. He thanks heavens everyday for dating someone who knows what he likes. release — link here

no rose petals

pairing — min yoongi x reader summary — Min Yoongi is a man that knows how to plan a date night. but he can't get too mad when his date deviates from those plans. release — link here

salty treat

pairing — jung hoseok x reader summary — a boring date night at the movies always has a chance of getting more interesting. but Hoseok needs to keep it together before they get caught. release — link here

too daring for you?

pairing — kim namjoon x reader summary — Namjoon can't keep your roleplaying idea off his head, so he'll make sure to surprise you with it when you least expect it. release — link here

champagne & suds

pairing — park jimin x reader summary — a romantic trip is only complete with a nice bottle of champagne and the comfort of a bathtub. release — link here

blue waters

pairing — kim taehyung x reader summary — you can always count on the fresh breeze of the Maldives to inspire young hearts for some exhibitionist shenanigans. release — link here

cherry flavored

pairing — jeon jungkook x reader summary — You bet with your boyfriend that he can't handle more than five minutes of your tongue, but Jungkook never turns away from a challenge. You'll make sure to keep him in his place. release — link here

[zegrasdrysdale]

under the mistletoe [ n. hischier ]

day one of malia’s christmas fic marathon

pairing : Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : Nico needs a date for the Devils Christmas party so he turns to his best friend and asks if she doesn't mind being his fake date to the party

warning(s) : none. just enjoy the fluff :)

author’s note : day one is here. 11 more days to go. y’all are gonna be experiencing all kinds of up and downs during this fic marathon, but i hope y’all have a lot of fun

༺═──────────────═༻

The texts come through while she's already getting dressed for one of her other friend's party.

neeks 𓆩♡𓆪 - 6:01 pm i need to ask you for a huge favor. can you be my date for the devs christmas party tn ?

it starts at 7:30 and pally is hosting this year

i'll pick you up in like 45 mins and drive us both over. there will be lots of free food and drinks. can you please come with me ?

The only reason she agrees to go is because she's getting ready for a Christmas party. She has her makeup done and she can definitely get her hair done in less than forty-five minutes. Nico is always early for things so she expects him to show up a few minutes early to pick her up.

She has on a short dark red dress with spaghetti strap sleeves. It falls just past her ass and hugs her body. It has a dark sparkle to it when it hits the light. She pairs the dress with matching heels.

A loud knock rings through her small apartment as she's tying her slicked back hair into a tight ponytail. As soon as she's done, she runs to the front door in her heels.

On the other side stands Nico in one of his game day suits. He has on a red tie instead of a black one. His hair is gelled back and he's clean shaven. His big brown eyes take her in as soon as the door opens.

"Wow, look at you, Hischier," she teases as she leans against the doorway. She also just really needed to say something because she could feel her cheeks getting hot the longer Nico stared at her. "You clean up nicely."

Nico lets out a light laugh. "This is nothing," he replies. "I wear a suit like this pretty much every day."

She grabs her dark red jacket from the hook by the door. "I was talking about this," she comments as she pats Nico's smooth cheek. "Anyway, is the party at Pally's place or did he rent something out like Jack did last year?"

"In Jack's defense, he had a pretty small apartment," Nico tells her as they take the elevator down to the first floor. "He didn't have Luke living with him yet so he had to rent something out. But yes, it is in Pally's house this year. I heard he went all out with decorations and catering."

He holds the door to the building open so (Y/N) can click through it in her heels. Nico is right behind her. "Cool," she replies. "I've never been to Ondrej's house. His wife and little girl are so sweet though."

They're settled in Nico's car when he looks over. "Um, so I just wanted you to know that I may have told the team in a heat-of-the-moment thing that I was going to be bringing my girlfriend to the party," he admits to her.

(Y/N)'s eyes widen when she realizes what it means. "Are you telling me that you need me to fake being your girlfriend tonight?" she asks.

"I told you it was a huge favor," Nico reminds her. "Please say that you will do it. I don't want to be seen by my team as a liar so I need you to be my girlfriend for tonight only. If it's a lot then you don't have to but I would really-"

"Okay," she interrupts. "Tonight only. I want the full girlfriend experience though. No half-assing it, got it? I want hand holding and arms around my shoulders while we're sitting together."

If she is going to be Nico's pretend girlfriend for the night, she wants to go all out. Not to mention that if this is going to be the only time she will be Nico's girlfriend then she wants the whole thing.

The whole damn thing.

"Got it," he replies. "Anything else?"

"Not unless you think something is right to do at that moment."

༺═──────────────═༻

The Palat house is stunning. The snow that has fallen over the last few days makes it even more gorgeous. The outdoor decorations brighten up the building.

Cars are already parked up and down the street even though it’s still a little early. Nico helps (Y/N) out of his car when they park so she doesn’t slip on the ice that’s on the sidewalk. He offers her his arm and she happily hooks hers with his.

“I’m happy you agreed to come with me,” Nico says to her as they walk up the shoveled pavement to the front door. “I know I kind of tricked you into coming with me as my girlfriend but I get to hang out with my best friend all night so it’s a win-win for both of us.”

Best friend. The ultimate friendzone.

It’s a win-win for Nico. All she gets out of it is free food and a glimpse at what it would be like to be in an actual relationship with Nico.

“Yeah.” She puts a smile on her face despite how she feels and Nico rings the doorbell. (Y/N) lets out a quiet sigh as the door swings open.

Ondrej stands on the other side when the door swings open. “Welcome, guys,” he says. “Everyone is getting a drink and talking in the living room until dinner is ready. Come on in.”

Nico greets his teammate with a clap on the back and (Y/N) gives him a hug and a “it’s nice to see you again” before the two of them head into the living room. Palat takes her jacket before they go see the rest of the boys in the living room. Nico has his hand in hers as they turn the corner into the room.

Every single pair of eyes in that room is on (Y/N) and Nico. The guys that brought someone with them sit or stand with them at their side. Nearly everyone has a drink in their hand.

“When were you going to tell us that (Y/N) was your girlfriend, Nico?” Jack asks from the couch. “When we make playoffs and she got a jacket?”

Nico smiles and shakes his head. “I was going to tell you all eventually,” he tells his team. “We’ve just been enjoying the new change in our relationship. Right, liebling?”

In the years that she’s known him, she hears some of the names he’s called his girlfriends. She’s even looked some of them up because she didnt know what they meant.

The fact that Nico just called her one of his German nicknames sends a chill up her spine.

She shivers a bit and takes a step closer to Nico. “Yes,” she eventually agrees when she recovers enough to form words. “We’ve been enjoying our little bubble. We weren’t ready for it to burst but when Nico said that his teammates wanted to be introduced, I couldn’t say no.”

(Y/N) looks up at him with a smile on her face and wraps her arm around his. Nico looks down at her and mirrors her smile.

“I think it’s about time,” Jesper says from the other side of the room. “I mean, the way he talks about you in the locker room sometimes, (Y/N). I was hoping the two of you were together.”

That’s news to her. “Oh, what do you say about me in the locker room?” she asks sweetly to Nico. “I hope it is all appropriate.”

Some of the guys snicker, which results in their own date swatting them on the shoulder.

Nico’s face turns light red. “Just about how much I like being with you,” a flustered Nico replies. “I say that I can’t wait to see you when I know that we have plans. I tell them how happy I am when I know you’re up in the suite at home games. The usual stuff, you know?”

His words surprise her, especially because they aren’t actually together. He’s been making it sound like they are together.

It throws her off a little but she decides to play along.

“I say the same thing to my friends,” she lies. “About how excited I am to watch him play or when I know we are going out after. I especially tell them about how hot I think he is with that ‘C’ on his chest. I mean I have to cool off a little when I think about it sometimes.”

There are a few whistles around the room and (Y/N) stares up at Nico with a sly smile on her face.

It isn’t a lie. Nico might be her best friend but she has wished for years that he would see her as more than his best friend. She talks about how hot he is to her other friends all the time. Especially when he’s on the ice.

“You’re both so disgustingly in love,” Jack comments. “The way you look at each other makes me sick.”

They must be better actors than they thought.

Well, at least Nico must be because (Y/N) doesn’t know how much acting she’s actually doing right now.”

Dinner is ready shortly after. Everyone gathers around the table as best they can with the room they have. She is sitting so close to Nico that she’s basically on his lap. Not that she would mind that but Nico would.

Chicken is served as the main course. Rolls, salad, and pasta are served on the side. (Y/N) devours all of it because it’s so good.

Haula’s wife, Kristen, sits next to (Y/N). She asks, “So how long have you and Nico been together?”

“Just a few weeks,” she replies as soon as she swallows her bite of salad. “It hasn’t been too long.”

“The honeymoon phase is the best part,” Kristen tells her. “Sometimes I think Erik and I are still in ours. It truly is the best time in any relationship. Enjoy it.”

She looks over at Nico, who is laughing at something Jonas said next to him. “I’m trying,” she replies.

After dinner and dessert, a couple of the guys leave. They thank Palat for hosting before heading out the door.

(Y/N) finds herself on the couch beside Nico with a glass of red wine in her hand. Nico has had a few beers tonight so either she’s driving home since she’s only had one glass of wine or they’re calling an Uber. She can tell that Nico isn’t all here right now.

He has an arm draped around her shoulders while he talks to Akira, Timo, Tyler, and Jack above something hockey related. It’s always hockey related with this group.

She quietly sips her wine while the five of them talk about their next game against Detroit.

It’s weird but when she looks around the room, she doesn’t feel out of place. She’s already friends with a bunch of the guys’ wives and girlfriends. She’s babysat some of their kids during or after games. She knows all the guys on the team.

The only thing that’s weird is that she isn’t actually his girlfriend. It sucks because she’s been in love with him for well over a year and he has no idea or hasn’t shown any interest in being with her.

“Uh oh,” Jack suddenly says. “Look up Nico.”

When Nico looks up, so does (Y/N). Jesper and Palat stand behind them. Jesper is holding a piece of fake mistletoe.

“Oh shit,” Dawson laughs. “Get it, cap.”

A few of the remaining guys laugh.

Nico looks over at (Y/N) and raises his eyebrows in question. “Should we give it to them?” he asks while chants of “kiss her” break out around the room.

Not unless you think something is right to do at that moment. That’s what she said when she agreed to come as Nico’s fake girlfriend.

This is that moment.

Without even answering the question, (Y/N) leans over into Nico and presses a chaste kiss to his lips. She can taste the beer he’s been drinking throughout the night from that quick kiss.

His eyes are wide when she sits back a little bit, but he it doesn’t look like he hated it.

Actually, Nico leans into her and presses a longer kiss to her lips. Her hand flies to the back of his neck and one of his hands falls to her thigh right under where her dress ends.

Without realizing she’s doing it, (Y/N)’s fingers are playing with the ends of his hair. She thought he needed a haircut recently but now she doesn’t mind his longer hair.

Nico is the first one to break the kiss. He pulls back slowly and meets her eyes. His lips are red and slightly kiss-bruised. Her heart races in her chest.

She’s afraid that something has truly shifted between them, then Nico whispers, “Wow.” All her fears melt away and she smiles at him.

“We didn’t need all that,” Timo teases.

“I feel like I’m intruding on something,” Erik says.

Suddenly, Nico stands up and pulls (Y/N) up with him. “I think we’re going to head out,” he tells everyone. “I will see you all at practice tomorrow morning. Have a good night.”

Before she can protest, (Y/N) is being herded toward the Nico. Nico quickly helps her put her jacket on before they walk out into the cold air. It’s started to snow again as they leave the house.

The door shuts behind them and (Y/N) finally asks, “Why are we leaving?”

“Because,” Nico stammers. “Because-” He’s cut off when she slips on some ice. He quickly grabs her at the waist and holds her up so she doesn’t fall. Her entire body is pressed against him. “Because I was a little mad that our first kiss happened under some mistletoe.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Our first kiss?” she asks. “I don’t understand. I thought that was going to be our only kiss.”

Nico’s hands slide under her jacket and grip her waist. His nose grazes hers as he asks, “What if I don’t want to only have one kiss with you?”

Her heart jumps in her chest and she prays that Nico didn’t feel it. “I don’t want that to be our only kiss,” she softly tells him. “I’ve been waiting forever to kiss you, Nico. I don’t want that to be the only time I kiss you.”

He takes her chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “Then kiss me like you mean it this time, liebling.” Nico’s voice is a whisper when he talks.

(Y/N) doesn’t hesitate. She gets higher on her toes and presses a hard and deep kiss to his lips.

It might be freezing and snowing, but all she can feel is the warmth against her lips and her body. She never wants to let go now that she’s had a taste.

༺═──────────────═༻

MAIN MASTERLIST

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taglist : @dancerbailey3 @dasiysthings

[ch6sos]

random choso headcanons

i <3 choso i <3 making odd ball headcanons so here u guys go

content warning mentions of "metabolism", social anxiety/anxiety (not bad though) + motion sickness, and this is not proofread and lowercase so if any of those Like makes you tingle please don't read this my sweet

he’s emo as hell, he listens to emo music. now he's the one i actually imagine listening to my chemical romance, pierce the veil, etc. (bc with nanami I feel like he'd listen to more 80s-90s rock music but this isn't about my first husband)

he suffers from insomnia and finds it difficult to sleep unless he has someone he cares about in the room or at least snuggling with him.

peacemaker: he is a peacemaker when it comes to his brothers.

"hey yuji, you should really share with him. "

"no!"

"yuji...." 

"fine."

he has an earthy aroma—he often uses colognes with earthy notes that are not overpowering (i  think he might be sensitive to strong scents).

i imagine him experiencing motion sickness. for some reason, i imagine him feeling dizzy in a car, or being unable to handle a rollercoaster without feeling extremely unwell.

would probably work at your local hot topic especially if this was set during the 2000s era where hot topic was actually catered to the alternative scene. or a tattoo shop!

several piercings. on his left ear, he has an industrial, a triple lobe piercing, and a conch— his right having a double helix piercing, a tragus, and a single lobe piercing.... and then he has an eyebrow piercing and a labret piercing :)

enjoys watching christmas movies because a lot of them are about family!

deeply family-oriented, he genuinely just wants to grow up with a family. a big one, too.

thus he may have a fear of being alone, which makes me believe that he is introverted but also genuinely afraid of ending up alone as he grows older. he values the presence of family and wants to ensure that they always surround him.

he comes across as a bit shy initially, not necessarily awkward, but it takes some time to get to know him.

still not too talkative but genuinely chill to talk to.

has a lot of accessories when he wears outfits, especially bracelets or necklaces. 

black is what you find in his closet. just black (and a couple of purples and reds but mainly black)

he be thrifting them outfit pieces too idc idc he not a shein warrior

is a bit insecure about his dark circles and markings on his face (i could imagine he still has the markings but they look more like a scar rather than what it looks like in the actual manga/anime) so he begins to cover them up with concealer sometimes.

eats a LOT of junk food and somehow doesn't gain weight. bro probably can eat a whole box of pizza with wings and doesn't even gain a pound.

he is genuinely clueless/oblivious when it comes to relationships like he doesn't know when someone's flirting with him unless they tell them straight up. and when they tell him he's like:

"...oh! me...?" because he genuinely thinks, “wow, someone likes me?!?!”

plus he would ask before initiating even after being in a relationship

“do… do you mind if i kiss you?”

“cho we’ve been dating for five months”

“oh… i’m sorry for asking… again.”

spends a lot of time on his hair !!! he has to wake up early sometimes just to do his hair. and he doesn't plan on cutting it, only trims it once in a while.

when he's home he either has it down or has it in a ponytail. he even has a silk pillowcase so it never gets frizzy.

cats or dogs— no. he likes turtles. he even has a pet turtle.

i think that he wouldn't vape or smoke the way people might expect him to. i believe he may have a weak immune system, which would make it difficult for him to engage in such activities.

socially anxious as hell bro tweaks out when he has to order at a restaurant... 

but overall he’s an anxious person, i feel like he’d suffer from anxiety a lot (as someone who has anxiety i just can tell he’d be the type to have it too)

when he dates someone he's really touchy with them because he craves physical touch. he especially enjoys when someone plays with his hair he falls asleep in a millisecond.

he loves sketching in a notebook, he loves drawing nature a lot! he likes going to the park or a forest and drawing what he sees. he also enjoys drawing people and i imagine he always draws pictures of yuji too, and he shows them to him.

tease him and his face is red, his eyes are widened, and his face is in absolute shock...

literally the sweetest guy ever; he's always looking out for everyone and makes sure everyone around him is okay

he's always cold thus needs someone to cuddle him.

is fascinated by some amphibians and watches national geographic sometimes when he knows they're going to talk about amphibians. especially frogs!

his most used app on his Black iPhone 13 Pro Max would be Spotify and he is top 0.1% listener for some underrated metal band

creative hobbies more than physical hobbies (sketching, journaling, sewing)

HE CROCHETS IDC WHAT ANYONE SAYS HE LITERALLY MADE A CROCHET ROSE FOR YUKI I D O NOT GIVE A DAMN 

when he laughs it's like a silent soft chuckle, and he usually covers his mouth when he does it

gets emotional easily, especially when he receives love. for a long time, he couldn’t believe that he would ever be loved so when he is receiving affection he gets overwhelmed and tries not to cry because he thinks “how?? why me?”

he loves holding hands. he tries not to freak out but when someone holds his hands when he’s freaking out or just in general, he loves the feeling of their warm hands against his very cold ones

apologises alot even though everything is not his fault

when he’s mad he needs time to cool off especially because he gets emotional easily. he needs time to himself before calming down before discussing his emotions with someone.

speaking of emotions, i don’t think he’d be bad at expressing emotions or speaking about it, at first yes but he begins to grow better at it and plus sometimes the way he shows emotion is more impulsive and involuntary rather than on purpose

listens more than talks because he is too busy getting sidetracked by his own thoughts or he genuinely can't talk to people sometimes

he has a fidget toy because he is always fidgeting with his fingers so yuji got him a fidget toy (probably a fidget spinner) and was fascinated with it and it didn’t help it just something he distracts himself with when he doesn’t feel like being present in a conversation or just in general

cried when yuji graduated and gave him the hugest hug of his life. and i don’t mean a few tears he BAWLED he was bawling because he was so proud of his little brother.

spends time with yuji a lot sometimes more than his own friends and they always go to the arcade or mall together

yuji got him a picture frame of him and choso posing and choso cried for several days because he couldn’t believe he has such an amazing brother

learns gen z lingo just for yuji

“oh yuji! that was very w rizz of you!”

“...what?”

“i didn’t know you had that much aura!”

I  Love Him

Missing him come back emo king

[justwinginglife]

Enjoying The Show

I figure we start Kinktober off with a big bang ;) NSFW ALERT

Kaiju No. 9 had finally been defeated, the Kaiju presence in general had greatly diminished after its downfall, and, in celebration, the JAKDF had thrown the grandest party anyone had ever seen, but still, all anyone could talk about was the way you grinded up against Mina Ashiro in the middle of the dance floor that night. 

When the Captain of the Third Division decided to grace the party with her presence, the crowd was already more than riled up (as she almost never made an appearance at crude events such as these- though she made an exception just for tonight), but after you pumped a couple drinks into your friend and coaxed her onto the dance floor with you, insisting that this was your song, and then proceeded to drag your ass across her crotch in time to the music, the officers completely lost it. 

Including your boyfriend, her Vice Captain, Soshiro Hoshina.

And when a tipsy laugh tumbled from her lips and she steadied her hands on your hips before matching your rhythm and rocking into you, Soshiro couldn’t help but start scheming. 

When the party had died down some and the remaining stragglers had started forming smaller groups around the base, Soshiro steered you both towards a private room so you could “catch your breath.” After some general banter and suggestive language, he managed to convince the two of you to kiss for him. 

Mina was shy about it at first. Even tipsy, she still grumbled that she refused to cater to the desires of a man let alone a man she outranked. But women were different and when you ran your fingers up her arm as you inched towards her on your knees, murmuring that it was just “one kiss” and you felt you were “close enough” to warrant a “friendly kiss”, she couldn’t help but oblige. 

There was nothing friendly about the kiss.

At first, it started off slow; you didn’t want to push her before she was ready. But after two seconds of your lips mingling, after the heat of your kiss left her dizzy with desire, she let out a moan. Then you were smirking against her lips, and in an instant, your tongues were tangled in a wet, hungry mess. Before either of you knew it, you were in her lap, grinding against her as you devoured her lips. Your hand wrapped around the base of her ponytail, giving it a slight tug so that her neck was exposed, and then you moved to ravage the delicate skin next, leaving delicious bruises in your wake. 

You must have kissed and sucked the sensibility right out of her, because when you tugged at the edge of her shirt, she began quickly unbuttoning it for you.

You could tell that Soshiro had been palming his erection through his pants this whole time, groaning into his fist so as to not disrupt your little moment, but when you began kissing and sucking at her breast, dragging your tongue over her peaked nipple, his zipper was down in an instant and he was fucking his hand with his cock. 

When his moan wasn’t as muffled as he would’ve liked, Mina finally turned her attention towards him. She almost choked when she laid eyes on the swell of his erection, and she sucked in a breath when his precum started drizzling over his eager fingers. “Oh that’s so… oh god, that’s so lewd…” She flushed.

“Minaaa.” You purred as you took her chin in between two fingers and turned her towards you again. “Don’t look at him. Look at me. I want your attention right…” You dipped your head back down again to flick your tongue across her other nipple, “Here…”

She whimpered as your saliva seared trails down her breasts. When she finally surrendered to the feeling, closing her eyes and arching her head back, you took the opportunity to hike up her skirt. Her eyes fluttered open again at the sudden movement.

You danced your hand near her entrance, massaging at her thighs. 

She hesitated. “I’ve never-”

You engulfed her neck with your lips again. “We don’t,” You sucked at the skin, “Have to,” You pressed a kiss to the mark, “If you don’t want to.” You sunk your teeth into her flesh, and then pulled back to admire your handiwork. “But I can tell you're wet just thinking about me and those sounds of yours are irresistible.” As if to prove your point, she moaned when you trailed your hunger down her neck to her shoulder. 

“Doesn’t she make the cutest noises, baby?” You called to Soshiro.

He grunted his agreement as he pumped his engorged cock in and out of his hand. 

She flushed an even darker shade of red and bit her lip. Then, as if to say she had decided, she slowly spread her legs for you.

“Ahh, there’s a good girl.” You wasted no time in teasing your way in, testing the waters with one finger, and then when she sighed her approval, you slid in a second. 

When she clenched the sheets tight and started to pant, you wondered if this slow pace was actually enough to make her come. You felt you could do better than this. Soshiro knew it too. 

“Touch her like you touch yourself, baby.” He crooned, still grasping at his throbbing erection, eyes flooded with desire. 

You smirked at her. “You heard the man.”

Her eyes widened. “What does he me-”

You suddenly jerked a thumb towards her clit, stroking the nub swollen, and then shoved three fingers deep inside her. She gasped for breath, whining for air, as you pounded your fingers against her clenching walls. 

“You’re practically soaked.” You noted as each pump of your fingers sent her juices sloshing out of her entrance. 

Soshiro got on his knees to watch. “Fuck, she is.” He reached out to touch her, but you slapped his hand away. “You’re not allowed to touch any girl but me.”

Amused, he shrunk back into his corner, but not before snapping a photo of you fingering her pussy raw. You thought he just took it for his own records, for his own private time, so you continued to pleasure her, paying him no mind.

But then he got up to open the door moments later, and Narumi strode into the room, taking up position beside Hoshina on the couch. 

“Can’t believe you kept this a fucking secret. How long has this been going on for and you’re just now telling me? Asshole.” Narumi grumbled, fumbling for his zipper.

Soshiro grinned cheekily, “Long enough for me to come once already.”

“Asshole,” Narumi repeated again, now getting frustrated that his dick was rapidly hardening in his pants but his zipper was stuck in place.

Hoshina broke the zipper, yanking his pants down. 

“ -were fucking expensive pants, you dickhead.” Narumi complained but his words held no weight, he was completely mesmerized by the sight of Mina thrusting herself onto your fingers. He jabbed Hoshina in the side. “You already got off once, you owe me the same.” 

Hoshina rolled his eyes but then began stroking Narumi’s cock while they watched the two of you. 

You paused just to raise an eyebrow at your boyfriend. 

He shrugged, cocking a grin. “You said I couldn’t touch other girls.”

You face-palmed. “I’ll have to be more clear on instructions next time. Enjoying the show, Gen?”

He groaned as Hoshina coaxed his precum out in steady streams. “Immensely.” He gasped out.

Mina scoffed. “How many people are going to join in on this little party of ours; who’s going to be next, Okonogi?” She asked sarcastically. 

Soshiro put a finger up in thought and both you and Mina instantly shut him down with treacherous glares and a resounding “NO.”

He laughed and went back to his handjob, but the two of you had yet to resume. 

“Well don’t stop just cuz he’s an idiot. Just pretend he’s not here… keep going.” Narumi whined.

“Hey, don’t go calling me an idiot, I’m the one who sent you an invite, you should be grateful you’re here at all,” Hoshina grunted as he viciously squeezed more precum out of Narumi’s tip.

Narumi made a strangled noise but still waved for you both to continue. 

You turned back to Mina. “Well I guess they want a show, so let’s give them a show.” You slowly slid down your skirt for the boys, making sure to let your hands linger on your curves for their viewing pleasure.

She spread her legs again and eagerly awaited your fingers, but to her surprise, you instead positioned your body over her entrance and started scissoring against her. 

“Oh fuck.” Narumi came all over Hoshina’s hand immediately. While he was still mid-orgasm, Hoshina sped up, pumping his dick more vigorously, leaving an overwhelmed and oversensitized Narumi to start erratically spurting out even more cum. “Damn b-bastard, h-how would you like it if I just,” He reached over and started stroking Hoshina’s cock emphatically. Hoshina gasped and gripped the edge of the couch to force his orgasm back down until he was ready.

You fucked Mina harder, enjoying the feeling of her slick coating your cunt. “I can’t tell what’s hotter- Narumi coming all over my boyfriend’s hand, trying to force him to come, or you about to come all over my pussy.” 

Mina groaned at your words. “I’m not g-gonna…”

You picked up the pace, filling the room with the sound of you slapping against her as your hips slammed down harder. “You sure about that? Cuz I can feel you twitching underneath me. Why don’t you just come for me already?” 

Sweat began to trickle down her forehead as she arched her back to give into the pleasure. She thrust up against you, desperately chasing her release. 

Hoshina and Narumi quit their bickering when they realized the Captain was about to come undone underneath you. Lust took heavy hold over them and their erections became engorged to an almost painful degree as they watched you grind your cunt up against Mina’s. But they were resolved not to come again until one of you did. 

Mina was the first to come, collapsing against the bed as euphoria engulfed her. Narumi watched her shudder underneath you, whining and moaning her delight, and it sent him over the edge too. He doused Hoshina’s hand again in thick ropes of his cum. But Hoshina- Hoshina was waiting for you. 

He knew every scar on your skin, every sensitive spot, every curve, every dip, he knew every inch of the body that he so frequently worshiped and he knew you were almost there so he held out for you. Even as Narumi vigorously pumped his cock out of his hand, even as he picked up the pace, he waited for you. 

When you felt Mina’s cum flood through your entrance, mixing with your own wet heat, every nerve in your body was set ablaze and you knew you were close. You moaned “Soshiro” as you came on top of her, thrusting against her until the waves of pleasure subsided. Hoshina heard his name and followed shortly behind you, splattering Narumi’s hand with his own liquid lust. 

After you’d all caught your breaths, Narumi finally spoke. “Damn that was cold. Fucking the Captain and then moaning the name of her Vice Captain.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” “He’s her boyfriend,” you and Mina said in unison, like it was the most simple thing in the world.

“Yeah, we’re just friends.” You scoffed. 

Mina pulled her clothes back on. “Exactly. Don’t know why you’re such a dumbass, Narumi.”

You and Mina took off down the hallway, arms around each other, laughing with each other as though nothing had changed between the two of you, as though tonight was nothing more than a little healthy experimentation.

Narumi watched your fading figures in stunned silence. Then he turned to Hoshina. “Come on. Help me out here.”

Hoshina shrugged. “They said they’re just friends.” 

Narumi held up his cum stained hands. “And what do you call this? What did we just do?”

Hoshina shrugged again. “Closed a business deal?” He smirked and then headed off down the hallway, walking fast to catch up to you. He attempted to wrap an arm around you but you refused to let him touch you until he’d cleaned the “uninvited guest’s cum” off of him. He chased you down the hallway with his hands spread out towards you. 

All that was left of your blissful -half drunken- encounter that night was a dumbfounded Narumi standing in a puddle of his own slick, wondering what the FUCK just happened.

[inoreuct]

oh oh oh oh sanji with red lipstick and her long ponytail curling over her collarbones, slightly messy after a long shift as she drops her purse on the floor. her keys clink into the dish on top of the foyer table and she kicks her heels off to collapse on the couch and light a cig because the world is so cruel to pretty girls. her bangs catch on her mascara she exhales and she rolls her head, pulling at her neck, tsking half-heartedly at a run in her stockings and yanking at her tie with one hand. cue zoro; sleepy, bleary, shuffling out of their bedroom in boxers and a crumpled, unbuttoned dress shirt that's too tight around the shoulders.

sanji sighs the smoke away as her girlfriend folds down next to her in an ungainly pile of muscle and limbs. "evening, chou."

"think you mean morning," zoro grumbles, putting whatever she’d been holding down on the table. "s'fuckin' three a.m., blondie."

"i know." she feels callused hands gently pulling the tie out of her hair, and she sinks back into the cushions as relief prickles across her scalp. "thought you'd be asleep."

her girlfriend scoffs. "oh, i was."

sanji doesn't even have time to ask then why're you awake? before something wet is being pressed to her eye, and she sputters. "mari—

"it's your micellar shit." zoro shifts closer as she wraps the soaked cotton pad around the edge of her thumb and works it into sanji's lashline. "you're dead on your damn feet. don't wanna hear you bitching about not taking your makeup off tomorrow."

sanji opens her mouth and closes it again because yeah, zoro's right; she wouldn't have bothered. she's too fucking tired. but the clogged pores and missing lashes and crusty lips the next morning would have put her in a horrid mood for the rest of the day— so she shuts up and blows out a mouthful of smoke as zoro wipes at her face.

"tough day?"

she sighs again, shoulders drooping with it. "nowhere near the toughest. but we had a guy who was an absolute bitch in charge of that event. what's the point of outsourcing a caterer if you're gonna tell their chefs how to cook?"

zoro huffs a laugh. "did you kick his ass?"

"duh. asshole made himself scarce after i nearly took his eye out with my heel."

"that's my girl."

the shudder that ripples down her spine when zoro's free hand comes up to steady her head feels like warm water, and she smiles a little at the look of concentration she knows is on her girlfriend's face. she also knows what her makeup looks like after long days, and it's hard work to get off; her eyeliner's probably gone or nearly there, lipstick smudged around the edges until it looks more like a rash (ew), eyebags showing through her concealer and mascara smeared. she doesn't bother opening her eyes when zoro grabs a fresh cotton pad to work on her other eye, strong fingertips digging into the side of her skull, and the pressure makes something tense along her nape release.

zoro's hands are rough, as always, nails filed down rudimentarily and calluses built up thick at the bases of her fingers. but when she presses the heel of her palm into sanji's jaw, it's careful— the cotton pad that drags over the corner of her mouth is precise, rubbing across her lower lip to scrub away the patchy remnants of colour. zoro's breath ghosts warm across her cheek, turning cool in the wake of gentle swathes of makeup remover, and sanji knows she's done when zoro massages the last dregs of tension from her scalp.

she brings her knees to her chest and listens to zoro's slippers shuffling away as her girlfriend throws the trash, and back again. her's cig's burned down to a stub; she smokes it until embers glow against her polished nails and then pulls herself up to grind it out in the coffee table ashtray. the couch's headrest is scratchy against her cheek as she blows the last lungful of smoke away and curls up on her side, watching zoro turn off the lights and shut the window in their kitchen before going over to pick her heels up and set them neatly by the door, hanging her purse up with their jackets on the rack.

sanji's ragdoll-limp as she's lifted, arms beneath her back and knees, head lolling onto zoro's shoulder— it's that liminal space between sleep and wakefulness, and she's slipping quickly over to one side. she doesn't fight it. why would she? even as she's set down over the cool covers, even as her slacks are peeled off and chucked over the vanity chair, she's far too comfortable. zoro undoes a few buttons, pops the clasps on her bra and pulls it off without much difficulty; sanji giggles weakly as a fleeting joke about experience flashes across her mind before it flits away.

it's dark. the blanket's pulled up over her shoulders, and she inches closer when zoro wraps an arm over her back. "i'm running out of shirts, y'know," she mumbles, thumbing at the sharp point of the pinstriped collar against her girlfriend's warm skin.

zoro fights a yawn. "sunday tomorrow. s'laundry day."

she takes a breath to reply and forgets what she had been about to say. a kiss is pressed to her forehead, and she falls asleep between one blink and the next.

(sanji wakes just past two in the afternoon, sleep crusted in her eyes and throat, hair all over the place, and hearing the dryer going. her shirt is falling off one shoulder when zoro comes in and tackles her back onto the mattress, and she settles under the covers as strong legs tangle with hers and zoro squeezes her waist with a yawn.

maybe she'll just sleep till dinner, she decides, burying her nose into soft green hair that smells of her own shampoo. instant ramen every once in a while can't hurt, anyway.)

[porcelainseashore]

Coffee & Secrets (2)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Rookie Cop! Leon x Barista! Fem! Reader

Summary: As a cozy coffee shop owner in Raccoon City, you’re no stranger to visitors seeking comfort, quiet, and warmth. When a rookie officer named Leon finds a kindred spirit in you, it sets in motion a chain of events that forever changes the course of your lives. An alternate universe set in Resident Evil 2 Remake and inspired by the game Coffee Talk.

Content & Warnings: Canon divergence, coffee shops, romance, slow burn, strangers to lovers, idiots in love, fluff, slice of life, swearing

AO3 Link

Chapter 2: Beginnings

“What kind of coffee shop only opens at night?”

Leon had kept his word, returning some time during the week after his work shift. However, Claire left you a postcard, delivered through him, with “I.O.U.” written at the back in an inky marker.

“My kind,” you quipped back, clearing out some of the cups and glasses, and wiping down the tables used by the previous customers who had left.

He shifted awkwardly between his feet, realizing the faux pas he had made. “Sorry, I didn’t mean any offense.” 

You looked up at him from the cloth rag on the table and smiled. “None taken, you’re just saying what comes to mind.”

“I like that,” you added for good measure.

Biting his bottom lip, his cheeks turned pink as he peered around the room before meeting your gaze again. “I-I… I guess I just wanted to know why?”

“Hah, she’s not interested in business! She’s rich!” a low bellow erupted from a ponytailed man sitting at the corner in an armchair. He laughed at his own joke, adjusting his spectacles along his nose bridge before guzzling down a thick, dark, syrupy brew from his cup. Then, he went back to reading his newspaper as if he had not uttered anything at all.

“Rude,” Leon whispered under his breath.

You chuckled as you gestured towards the older man. “That’s Ben, one of the customers I cater to. Enjoys coming here after dark. Says it helps him to think straight.”

“You see, I wanted to open a place where everyone could feel welcome,” you continued. “Even if it’s just the outsiders.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Ben called out again, though not once taking his eyes off the tiny print of the paper.

You smirked at his response. “Some people are night owls. So why not have a space for them too?”

Leon cocked his head to the side, staring at you contemplatively for a moment before replying, “That’s really nice of you.”

You looked away, unsure of how to respond. From the beginning, you had always accepted your role willingly, never giving it a second thought, so praise always came as a surprise.

“Mmm, why don’t you go make yourself at home, and I’ll be right with you?” you finally decided as an answer. 

Evasive, but polite—perfect for such a situation.

He did as you asked, heading over to the counter seat, and seeing you work your magic on his drink. It seemed like he had taken a note out of Claire’s book, inviting a little more spontaneity this time into his order. He wanted something warm yet cool, but not too sweet.

“It’s not too much of a hassle, is it?” he wondered out loud anxiously.

You huffed out a small laugh, saying, “It’s fine, relax.” 

As you served up the concoction before him, his gaze trailed across the amber swirls of the liquid, glinting under the pendant lights. They came to rest on the conical-shaped egg white foam you had whipped up on top.

“Gee, I feel like a kid in a candy shop,” he muttered. Taking a whiff of the mixture and upon finding it agreeable to his senses, he imbibed the rest of it.

“How do you—” he paused to recollect his thoughts before continuing, “How do you make such amazing drinks?” 

Twirling the glass in his hand, he examined it, seemingly trying to figure out its ingredients. “It’s almost as if you read my mind.”

“I just listen to what people need,” you mentioned nonchalantly, playing down the compliment. Jerking your thumb towards the glass, you added, “I call it Midsummer’s Nightcap, by the way.”

“I’ll definitely remember that.” 

He handed you the glass and you immediately followed up with a “Can I get you anything else?” It had been ingrained in you from day one to do so.

His face scrunched up slightly as he furrowed his brows. “I don’t know, hmm…”

“Something simpler?” you offered. “A glass of water?”

At this, he flashed a toothy grin. “There you go again. Reading minds.”

You scoffed good-humoredly, shaking your head as you poured him water over crushed ice with a slice of grapefruit and lime at the end. “So how’s your first week at work been?”

An involuntary groan rumbled from his chest, though he tried to suppress it.

“Not great?” you asked sympathetically.

“No, it’s good,” he began, “it’s more than I could’ve asked for, but…”

You held back, giving him the time and space to process his emotions. He fiddled nervously with the glass, pressing his fingers into it and leaving temporary imprints on the condensation.

“I don’t wanna fuck things up, you know?” he sighed. “I did well at the academy, but this feels like a totally different ball game.”

“It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?” you observed.

“Yeah,” he agreed, throwing his hands in the air. “I left everything behind for this job. My family, my hometown, my friends, my—” 

All of a sudden, he stopped in his tracks abruptly, as though something had clicked and he instantly regretted what he had just said. “I’m sorry for dumping this all on you…”

“Hey, it’s okay.” You reached over, holding his hand gently as you gave it a little squeeze. His pupils widened and his breath hitched at your touch, but similar to the previous time, he did not pull away.

“You’re afraid of failing,” you murmured, already busying yourself with cooking up another beverage to soothe his nerves. “Maybe you’ve never failed before, and it scares you.”

He remained silent, watching you from across the counter with a grim expression on his face.

It was only after you offered him the warm, steaming cup that he spoke, “You ever get that feeling where you’ve waited for this moment your entire life, and when it comes to it, you’re paralyzed?”

A rueful smile crept onto your lips. “When I set up this shop, yeah.”

Your answer stunned him initially before he started laughing, and you joined in.

When he finally managed to catch his breath, he probed further, “And how has it been for you?”

“It has its ups and downs, but you’ll survive.”

Your eyes met his. “Leon, it’s okay to fail.”

He averted his gaze in embarrassment. “That’s not what she—my girl—uh, my ex would’ve said.”

“Sometimes, people say things because they’re hurt,” you sighed. “I guess she didn’t want to lose you?”

Shaking his head, he rubbed his face wearily as he exhaled a deep breath. “Yeah, she didn’t want me to move so far away.”

Then, he found the courage to look you in the eye again. “I thought she’d be the one. I… I’m an idiot,” he surmised self-deprecatingly.

“You felt deeply for her,” you pointed out. “It doesn’t make it any less real just because it didn’t go the way you expected.”

While he mulled it over, you motioned to his forgotten drink and he obliged, knocking it back as if it were a liquor shot. “Time,” you proffered. ”Everything takes time.”

His jaw slackened as he took a moment to savor the warmth and taste, but once that passed, he had yet another curveball to throw at you. “What if I’m not cut out for this job?”

“If it comes to that, you could either keep going until you are, or find a new path,” you countered, placing your hands on your hips. “Don’t limit yourself.”

“Anyway, I have a hunch you’ll do just fine,” you reassured him. “If you don't believe me, then ask your supervisor.”

“Wait, you know Lieutenant Branagh?”

You did not respond to his question, instead sneaking in a wink and a smile as you removed the cup and saucer from his table. That appeared to distract him as he dropped the subject and latched on to a new one. 

“My grandma used to make this for me,” he said, indicating at the cup you were holding. “She had a name for it. Dreamsleep… I think?”

“Are you trying to tell me that I remind you of her?” you teased as you placed the items in the sink with the other dirty dishes.

“God, oh no, I’m sorry!” he coughed out, his face contorting into an expression of shock and horror upon realizing what he had implied. “That’s not what I meant!”

“I’m joking, Leon,” you giggled as he rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh of relief.

But when he took a peek at his watch, he pushed himself away from the counter. “I must’ve lost track of the time, um, I should get going.”

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he glanced bashfully in your direction. “Thank you… for tonight.”

You waved it off. “Don’t mention it.”

However, when you opened your mouth to speak again, he shushed you with his finger and a fiery look of determination in his eyes. “And no, this time I’m paying.”

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[currebunz]

Diluc Flirting Headcannons

-He really doesn’t flirt, it’s not something he picked up.

-Instead of flirting, Diluc is just attentive of you. He keeps tabs on you and asks other about your wellbeing. Anyone who knows you has been questioned by him.

-He lowkeys does background checks into people you know, wanting to make sure they are trustworthy around you. Diluc trusts your judgement but he doesn’t trust others.

-He will try to be more involved with your life as well. Need a commission? He’s on it. Going on an adventure? He’s tagging along because it is dangerous. Bored with nothing to do? He is inviting you to his bar.

-He doesn’t out right invite you to the winery but he does say you can come by whenever you want to. His maids alert him and he is there in seconds, surprising you as you were told he was busy at the moment.

-Diluc tries not to prioritize you in the early stage of the relationship, but he is only a man. He can’t help but drop anything minor in order to spend time with you.

-He encourages you to write letters or gives you a journal that you can leave at the winery so you both can leave messages in passing. He treasures them.

-After a thorough investigation, he will gift you things that are catered to your liking. It wasn’t like he had spied on you to see what caught your eye on the market.

-When you come by the bar, he can’t help but lift more of the heavier items. (Yes he is like that a bit). When you guys are out and about, he will take the lead and fight the enemies you encounter, hoping you are watching him.

-If you say his hair looks better down or in a higher ponytail, you will see him like that more often. (As a treat)

-Kaeya will taunt that he doesn’t know how to flirt and Diluc will finally be pushed to try something. The most he can do is kiss the back of your hand or compliment your looks, in private.

-Chivalry, his flirting is just chivalry.

[quzen]

TWST OC: Saiyuu

ᵉˣᵗʳᵃˢ: ᵖᶦⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ ᵇᵒᵃʳᵈ | ᵈᶦᵛᶦᵈᵉʳˢ | ᴾˡᵃʸˡᶦˢᵗ | ᵀʰᶦⁿᵍˢ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵘᵇʲᵉᶜᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵈᵈᵉᵈ :ᴰᵎ

Basic Info!!!

Age: 18 (Saiyuu uses He/They :D) Birthday: November 14 Height: 5'3 | 160 cm Grade | Class: First | 1-A Club: Pop Music Club Best Subject: History Dominant Hand: Right

Favorite Food: Danish Pastries Least Favorite Food: Grapefruits Hobby: Piano Talent: Cooking Likes: Ocean, Jellyfish, Piano, Rain, Acting, Baked Goods Dislikes: Loud Noises, Being Stressed, Spiders, Not Knowing Things, Sour Foods

Nicknames: - Shrimpy (Floyd) - Yuu-Yuu (Cater, Lilia, Ace[jokingly])

Unique Magic!!

None..ˀ

Appearance!!!

A short and thin boy. Saiyuu has shoulder length Dark blue hair that fades into Polo Blue. Part of it is tied into a ponytail midway with a blue bow. He has blue and light purple eyes. His face is covered with freckles.

Saiyuu wears the NRC uniform with a some additions. An oversized sweater that hangs off his shoulders, a messenger bag with a jellyfish hanging off it, jellyfish earrings, and the jacket(?) for the uniform tied around the waist. Over the button up, they have a light blue sweater.

Personality!!

Saiyuu is a helpful, empathetic, and playfully sarcastic individual. He's also somewhat introverted. Despite that he often finds himself dragged into different situations by friends and classmates quite often. Saiyuu thrives on being a helpful person. Whether its lending a listening ear or helping with a task, you can rely on them! There still is limits to what they'll help with but you can go to him for almost anything. Saiyuu tries to be understanding of everyones' situations, even if he's never experienced it personally himself. Due to this, they tend to forgive pretty easily.

Saiyuu despite his kind nature, can throw sarcasm and harsh reality at people. The sarcasm is more often playful than rude but he has no problem throwing harsher sarcasm if he feels annoyed. They also have no problem telling people when they are in the wrong or being shitty.

Saiyuu also dislikes having information being withheld from him. IF its something that should be basic knowledge, they feel like he should know it. His lack of understanding leaves him stressed.

Background

A lot of Saiyuu's early years are a blank state. He's not really sure why, but after a few years, Saiyuu gave up trying to figure out why. Saiyuu grew up as part of a decently well off family and having his life entirely planned by his father.

Growing up, Saiyuu lived near the ocean which lead to them having a fascination with it. He learned everything there was too it while juggling his other studies. This fascination with it did lead to some problems during his early years of high school, but he managed.

Early during his 3rd year, his mother had passed. Saiyuu fell into a despondent slump. He had taken to taking photos of the ocean, the city, and anything that he thought would help improve their outlook.

IMPLIED DEATH (both human and animal) (While not outright stated or described, please be careful)

During one of their outings, Saiyuu had stumbled upon a cat. Not sure how else to respond to it, they stepped forward while raising their camera. Before he could take the photo though, the cat ran off looking back. Against their better judgement, Saiyuu followed after it. It had ran off into the street and he panicked. He ran out and caught it up into his arms to get it out of the way, when Saiyuu saw a bight light...and then dark.

When Saiyuu came too, he saw a talking monster cat tugging at a robe he wasn't even sure why he had on.

Relationships!!

(with these i will make a different post for i think T uT)

Extras!!

Fun Facts: - Saiyuu's hair is naturally that dark blue..Not even he knows how. - Saiyuu learned how to cook from his mom, and enjoys cooking a lot! - Saiyuu can get sick pretty easily. - He says not knowing his past is fine, but well..hes not entirely honest with that. - Saiyuu takes photos a lot. They can be anything as well: Friends, scenery, or items.