PLEASE, I LOVED YOUR SUNA LORE, it was absolutely amazing 😭
Omg thank you so much??? I didn’t think ppl would care or like it that much 💞 I’ve had these ideas for honestly the better part of 5 years so I’ve had time to distill it lol. As a treat here’s some more thoughts:
Suna will never admit it but he really loves the twins. They never have expectations for anyone and allow people to be themselves. Suna didn’t talk much when they first met and Atsumu was really annoying and would prompt him to speak in a way that was borderline rude and harassment but it honestly worked 🤣 and has now worked against Atsumu cause Suna will tell him right the hell off
Suna is definitely bi and 100% had a crush on Kita (stopped because kita reminds him of his mom,) Aran (can you blame him?) Osamu (please don’t make him bring it up) and Hirugami Sachiro (he has a thing for brown eyes, sue him)
That crush on Osamu lasted YEARS btw. Lasted so long Suna was picking up shifts at Onigiri Miya and giving Osamu his first cigarette (whoops)
Social drinker, has to have at least one beer to enjoy a party. Even then he usually ends up taking to someone on the balcony or in a separate bedroom (once he ended up in a closet with someone and they were literally just talking for like 30 minutes until someone opened the door and made a big deal out of it)
Cannot sing, can barely play chords on a guitar. Envies musical talent
Smiski enjoyer; his sister is a huge my melody fan so they usually get each other trinkets. If he gets to go overseas he tries to find his sister international Sanrio items 💖
Wants tattoos so bad but will probably never get them
I personally see him as Japanese and Korean, with his maternal grandfather being ethnically Korean raised in Japan.
There’s actually a lot of ground to cover; idk where any of this even came from or how it developed but this is my lore for Suna (read: headcanons)
Suna is his mother’s last name. His family has been matriarchal for the past three generations. His mother is currently the family head, mostly cause she’s the most successful (third oldest, but oldest daughter)
Suna’s dad is like a teacher or a public worker (librarian? Lower public official?) and his mother works in the private sector. Her family has worked privately for business for generations.
His family was actually able to move to Hyogo prefecture after Suna was scouted. His mom refused to have him live alone. His dad was jobless for the first few months, but his mother made up for it. His sister hated moving and resented Rin for a little while, but she got older and understood the decision more
Suna’s mother has very high expectations for both her kids which causes them a lot of stress. Rin and his sister started leaning on each other more once they got older and the college prep stress got too intense
I mentioned it once here but Suna’s grandmother outlived his grandfather—he got sick right after they moved to Hyogo and his mother sent the family money (which they really didn’t have, but appearances had to be kept.) Suna ended up getting a job to make his own allowance and ended up treating his sister with it too.
Suna is his grandmother’s favorite and she’s not covert about it lol.
The older Suna got the more his mother’s pressure and the familial drama started wearing down on him. He was in the process of choosing a completely different path than everyone else, and as the favorite and the son of the next family head, it was really stressful to navigate as a teenager.
Suna’s uncle gave him his first cigarette. Cigarettes are really common in Japan, and his Uncle Koichi saw how stressed and upset Suna was after their grandfather’s funeral that he offered him a smoke. Suna declined at first, then after hours of questions, passive aggressive comments, glares and side eye, he came back around and asked for one. And he’s been smoking ever since.
Suna and his dad got closer after his grandfather died. His dad stood up for Rin and his decisions, and would defend the kids against the somewhat strict wishes of their mom
Going to college away from Hyogo in the effort to get scouted was the best decision he ever made. It forced him to be uncomfortable and face a lot of fears. He got even closer with his little sister, and when she graduated high school they went to the same college and lived together.
I have several unfinished wips about this and I just remembered that Suna is my pfp (lol) but I’ve headcanoned him as a cigarette smoker for YEARS and I remember when the smoker!suna fica were heavy, some people vehemently were like “Suna would NEVER smoke, he’d be so mean and rude to ppl who smoke, he’d gag in their face” etc when like…Japan is a huge market for tobacco…
He’s my fave character to roll around in my head and I have such specific and deep lore about his family that isn’t even true but cigarette smoker sunarin you will always be my fave <3
wanted to celebrate nagumo's anime debut w a snippet of him with former poisons classmate!reader and got carried away bc it's nagumo (sigh)
Something feels off the moment you enter Sakamoto’s store.
The issue is pinpointing the exact trigger for your immediate unease. If anything, your mind finds it easier to rule out potential sources rather than narrow on one specific cause. It’s not the soft chimes that welcomed you at the entrance or the fact that you’re the only customer in the convenience store. And as you offer the quiet owner a good morning, you quickly deduce that Sakamoto Taro is not the culprit once he gives you his usual curt nod, followed by a lackadaisical page flip of today’s newspaper.
“Where’s Shin-kun?” You make your way to the back to grab the peach tea the younger blond would’ve already gotten for you had he been here. Who would’ve thought a clairvoyant would excel in other fields that didn’t solely revolve around lethal combat and assassinations?
“Running errands with Lu,” he replies gruffly.
“You better not be overworking those two kids,” you say as you get a rice ball. After remembering that you failed to pack lunch for today, you grab two more.
“They get overtime pay.”
You’re unsure if your laugh is out of surprised delight that he took the teasing seriously–Sakamoto never seemed like the defensive type–or the strange realization that perhaps the former assassin, who rarely cracks a grin, could have a sense of humor.
“Speaking of overtime”–you grab a pack of gum and toss it to Sakamoto, who gracefully catches it while his eyes remain trained on the other items he’s scanning–“I told Aoi I would be happy to watch over Hana so you two can finally have your date night.”
“Oh wow, really?”
Though his reaction hints at his shock, you’re convinced that you’re the one most surprised by his extra chatter today.
Trying to shake off the strange atmosphere of these past few minutes, you laugh (again) as you search for the wallet in your messenger bag. “I figured she would’ve already broken the news. Guess not.”
“But how does an assistant professor and scientist have time to babysit? Especially after your promotion at that prestigious university?”
Your fingers hovering over the cash go still, and the silent pause you take to carefully consider your next words becomes too lengthy to ignore. “Uh, what?”
You hadn’t told anyone about your recent career developments. They were so new that you had recently begun to fully process them. In fact, you were mentally preparing to share the exciting milestone with the Sakamotos later this week since they were the first–and only–supporters who encouraged you to leave the assassin world for a boring, civilian life in academia.
“And what if the night you happen to watch Hana stops you from meeting the perfect person who you can have a date night with? Now, that wouldn’t be nice of us. Unless you already have someone and are keeping the target a secret.”
However, it’s not the many concerning words in such an invasive sentence that sets you off.
No, the exact moment that kicks your senses into overdrive is when your strained ears barely catch the low tune of pop music coming from the tiny radio hidden away in the corner.
The same radio that is always turned off.
The next few seconds fly quickly. In one blink, your hand effortlessly finds the knitting needle covertly kept in your bag. In the next, you find long, tattooed fingers tightly wrapped around your wrist, barely preventing the needle from digging into Nagumo’s carotid.
“Now,” the Order member says with an amicable closed-eye smile, “that’s not how you greet an old friend!”
There is no harshness to his actions when disarming you, gently lowering your trembling hands before he snaps the knitting needle with such force the ‘crack’ seems to echo throughout the store. After squinting at the dark liquid slowly leaking out of the broken needle, he sighs at how the color seemingly matches the one staining the tip of his eccentric collared shirt. Which also happens to be the same color of the narrow streak coming out from the tiny puncture in his neck.
“Ah, so you can take the poisons assassin away from the JAA, but you can’t take away the poisons from the poisons assassin. I knew you wouldn’t be rusty!”
“Nagumo,” you breathe out, heart stammering. It’s been so long that you almost forgot how dark his eyes are. A pair of black holes that would drag you into depths there were no coming out of. “What are you doing here?”
“How else am I supposed to congratulate my friend on accomplishing such a big goal? Especially when that friend is so adamant about cutting ties with anyone who dares say the word assass–”
Your hand instinctively clamps over his mouth, face growing as warm as the breath of the shortly-cut, but entertained, laugh currently tickling your skin.
You ignore how Nagumo lets the moment linger for far longer than necessary, moving your wrist, again, while his unnerving grin widens. When he makes his way over the counter–so fast you almost miss the fluid motion–you take a step back, desperate to recover any space he’s rapidly stealing from you.
“Shying away from our roots, I see?”
“How did you know about my promotion?” you whisper, the undercurrent of rage threatening to spill over. The hairs that stand on your neck make you feel colder.
Nagumo only continues to smile, an indecipherable look in his gaze that causes too many emotions to course through your veins. “Oh, c’mon, sensei, everyone in class knew it was gonna happen the moment you got nominated for that teaching prize.”
Suddenly, you’re not looking at Nagumo but are instead seeing the faces of your students Yoriko and Kenzo. Colleagues Kobayashi and Tanaka. Even the teaching assistant Keiji.
The knot in your stomach tightens. “Why are you here? Why now?”
Nagumo’s laugh is light, though not mocking. “If you really must know, I was waiting to throw a prank on Lu and Shin before telling Sakamoto-kun about his billion-yen bounty. I forgot you stop by on Wednesdays, but that’s okay–this was actually a good practice round! I wonder if they’ll take as long as you did to see through my disguise.”
“Hey, I knew it the moment I stepped foot into this store!” you exclaim. He doesn’t need to know that the only thing you knew then was that something was amiss.
Besides, why would he be the first person to cross your mind after you spent many long, painful years convincing your brain to swear off anyone who would’ve made you stay in a world you hated?
“Wait.” You shake your head, finally circling back to another thing the ORDER-level assassin just told you. It’s enough to make your chest rise in panic. “Billion-yen bounty? Don’t tell me–”
“No, I’m not here to kill him! I’m not that heartless. What type of man do you think I am?”
“An unserious one,” you mutter, grabbing the remnants of the broken and poison-laced knitting needle. “I can’t believe I wasted my emergency weapon on you.”
“A knitting needle isn’t so original, but I am so relieved you didn’t abandon all your hobbies and interests when you became a civilian. I’ll remind you that Oki-san said if you ever wanted to return as a retainer, he’ll pay double what Yotsumura gave you.”
“Will I also get a one-billion-yen bounty on my head? Not interested,” you grumble, raising a brow at Nagumo wiping the poison off his neck. The fact that he hasn’t shown any worrying signs makes you concerned about whether you’re losing your touch. You also know during your JCC days, you had once helped him in growing his resistance to various poisons–perhaps you trained him too well.
With the curl of your fingers digging into your palms, you tuck away that thought into the recess of your mind. Along with all the other memories spent with him and Rion that made you laugh then and now only bring an increasingly familiar pang in your chest.
“Wow, I didn’t realize how much you liked being a civilian!” He inches forward, a cryptic void behind those large, black eyes as he asks in a low voice, “Don’t tell me it’s because of that boring professor from the physics department.”
The dreadful sigh that accompanies his drawn-out enunciation of ‘boring’ makes you simultaneously embarrassed and worried about what else he knows. What he’s seen.
“What was his name…I swear it was something with a S…Sato…?”
Had he been the waiter who gave you an extra glass of wine upon seeing your exasperated expression during Sato's incessant humble bragging about some new publication? Or maybe he was the bartender who checked on you when Sato had gone to the bathroom after failing to ask a question about yourself in the past hour. Perhaps even the elderly woman on the subway who whispered that you could do much better than the hack you were with.
You gulp, unable to stop the tight squeeze of your chest. “How many different ways do I have to ask you? What do you want, Nagumo?”
His thin smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Why waste our limited precious time dwelling on answers you already know?”
The shake of your head is immediate, despising how he seems to get closer the more you retreat. “You might not believe it, but I like my life right now. I like being in Ikorai Hills, occasionally babysitting, and grading papers instead of making poisons. I don’t want to go back.”
The desperation you feel makes your voice hitch on a higher note with that last sentence.
You fear listing other reasons why you were lulled into this more peaceful side of society would make it seem like you're the one who needs convincing instead of Nagumo. So you shut your mouth, hoping that when he perceives the slight pleading in your eyes, he'll lay off.
Don’t make me go back.
Just as he’s about to speak–your body subconsciously leaning forward in his direction while waiting with bated breath–your messenger bag begins to vibrate.
Clearing a scratchy throat, your gaze remains on a smiling Nagumo as you answer the phone. “Hello. Yes, so sorry, but I’m running a few minutes late. Feel free to start the seminar without me, I’ll be there shortly. Yes, see you then.”
Nagumo grabs the phone and ends the call for you, a large hand enveloping yours as he clicks his tongue in false admonishment. The heat of his fingers brushing yours sends a chill down your spine. “My, already late during the first week of the semester. You sure you’re not having doubts about your current job?”
His touch soon feels scalding hot, and you blink away all the moments you embarrassingly craved his attention, even his mere presence. When you look up, your gasp is cut short once you notice the lack of distance between you two.
Don’t make me go back.
“No, this”–you shrink away slowly, struggling to break out of this reverie–“this is a bad idea. So don’t even think about it.”
“But you don’t even know what I’m thinking!” he says with a breezy laugh, eyes crinkling in amusement.
“I’m not re-joining the JAA–”
“I mean, if you still pay your yearly dues, does that mean you ever truly left it? Because–”
“And I’m not re-joining the ORDER–”
“Well, you were only our poisons expert, not an actual–”
“And for the umpteenth time, I’m not going out with you.”
As if you took the words out of his breaths, he simply smiles, uncharacteristically speechless.
Until he opens his mouth a beat later.
“We’ll see about that.”
Hating how your stomach flips from that statement alone, your eyes happen to find more interest in the rice balls and peach tea idly standing on the counter, long neglected, but not forgotten.
You ignore his watchful eyes on your figure as you place the food in your bag and twist open the lid of the drink.
Only for the contents inside the bottle to be thrown at him.
“Fat chance. Not when I need to grade papers and be a babysitter.”
You don’t stay long enough to hear any of his remarks about that.
When Aoi sends a text a few days later to update that Shin and Lu offered to watch over Hana, you don’t think much of it. And when your teaching assistant offers to review this week’s assignments, you happily relinquish your duties and even feel a spring in your step on your way home. The news secretly provides some relief, tension releasing from your shoulders as you excitedly welcome the idea of a relaxing night-in after the end of an unexpectedly stressful week.
It becomes easier to forget the root cause of the past nerve-wracking days once you’re a few hours into some popular crime series your co-workers were suggesting you start. You become almost too engrossed in the show that when you hear the knock on your door you almost tell the deliveryman to leave your dinner outside.
Once the person does another series of frenetic knocks, you hurry to the front and unlock the door, an impatient mutter on the tip of your tongue.
Only to slam your mouth shut upon opening the Pandora’s box you’ve been futilely attempting to keep locked away for all these years.
And despite the large bouquet of crimson roses covering the face of its holder, it doesn’t take a genius to guess it belongs to the assassin you keep on failing to forget.
Always a fan of theatrics, he lowers the flowers and inclines them in your direction, the floral scent—which you swear is accompanied by the faintest whiff of dried blood—amplifying the large lump forming in your throat.
“Since I bribed your teaching assistant to grade the class papers tonight,” Nagumo joyfully says with the biggest knowing smile, “and I also got Shin and Lu to watch over Hana, I just gotta know. How are my chances of a date looking now?”
You are both the most diligent worker at Sakamoto's Store and the most hypersexual person that Shin knows. Overhearing your thoughts and accidentally seeing your fantasies routinely leads to profound psychic damage for him, as well as the most poorly timed boners in the world.
All of this only gets worse when the two of you start hooking up.
6k words. comedy, smut. all the sex scenes are vanilla; however, the reader constantly reads and thinks about horny fanfiction tropes including: free use, omegaverse, and breeding. these are all mentioned but not discussed in detail. warning: the reader has a warped/unhealthy relationship with her sexuality, this fic is about shin fixing her with his stroke game lol. credits to @/cafekitsune for the dividers and @hansolen for the fic brainrot <3
You are the worst coworker that Shin has ever had.
This is saying a lot, given that he's worked with countless two-bit assassins who could barely a handle a gun (no one he worked with in his late teenage years could hold a candle to Mr. Sakamoto, truly), as well as Lu, who can barely orient herself within the store. You are, in contrast, brutally efficient with your work, incredible with the customers, and very cooperative with Shin. You even know how to handle a gun, and you do it with such pinpoint precision that it's always nonlethal despite being brutally debilitating. (Your skill level does hold a candle to Mr. Sakamoto in this respect, and Shin wonders if his boss has given you some kind of private training—a thought that fills him with such jealousy that it makes him want to chew on the sale stickers in his hands.) There's just one problem.
You are probably the horniest person alive, and Shin is about to lose his fucking mind listening to your thoughts.
Now, Shin is used to hearing the unfiltered stream of consciousness of the average human being. This naturally includes carnal desires here and there. He’s desensitized to most people’s erotic fantasies about their favourite gravure idol, memories of their last sexual encounter, intrusive thoughts about their friends, et cetera. He habitually tunes it out. But whereas a regular person might have these thoughts once or twice a day, you seem to have them once or twice an hour. And none of your thoughts are ever brief or underdeveloped. They usually last at least ten minutes each, with detailed internal monologuing and accompanying 8K UltraHD visuals, and you really only ever stop when you're trying to remember a code at the till or doing some quick mental math with the accounts.
Needless to say, Shin tries to keep you at the register as much as possible.
You used to tell yourself (in your head) that your mental fixation on sex was a natural consequence of your dry spell. After quitting the assassin life, you'd been celibate for the first time in at least a decade, forced to attain sexual gratification with nothing but masterfully written fanfiction and your vast collection of vibrators. (Your favourite one is hot pink, seven inches, rabbit eared. You sometimes have trouble getting it to fit, but it’s worth it for the way you cum when you do, and this knowledge makes Shin want to die.) You were convinced that getting laid would bring you enough relief to stop thinking about sex every hour of the day. You had thought that you'd go back to “normal” after that, though Shin doesn't know what “normal” entails for you. (One free-use fantasy a day instead of twelve? Daydreams strictly featuring humans rather than tentacle monsters? It's hard to say.)
Regardless, Shin had to agree: surely, there would be a limit to your sex-obsessed thoughts. It made a lot of sense that you were simply frustrated and in need of an outlet. Naturally, after sleeping with you, he'd expected your thoughts to quiet down.
(Yes—Shin slept with you. It was an accident, through and through, and he routinely feels bad about it. He'd been meaning to ask you out, treat you to dinner, maybe even get you flowers depending on the vibe. The type of thing that Mr. Sakamoto did for Aoi, when they first started dating. If everything went well, then you two could consider getting intimate. His interest in you has nothing to do with sex, after all—no, not even the fact that you've had explicit fantasies about deepthroating him while he works the cash. He'd die if you ever tried that, actually.
The plan was always to take things slow and maybe even start a relationship if the two of you really hit it off. He'd even asked Mr. Sakamoto for advice on what a civilian romance should look like! But then Shin walked you back to your apartment one night when you were feeling down, and you invited him upstairs, and one thing led to another, and, well… it turns out that you aren't the type of person to take things slow. Or think about relationships. Shin’s never overheard any thoughts from you about actually dating him, come to think of it. And no, before you ask—that doesn't bother him. Not at all. Not one bit.)
To both his surprise and yours, getting laid somehow had the opposite effect on you. Rather than being calmed, you're somehow even hornier—and now all your horny thoughts are about Shin.
It's nonstop. Shin can't believe it. Whereas you used to think about all sorts of people in your sexual fantasies (mostly your fanfiction men, but also some BL characters, occasionally Keanu Reeves, and very often that Nagumo guy), you now think solely of Shin. You're thinking about him right now, pausing as you finish restocking the onigiri.
Shin can hear every single thought from across the room, the way you feel the edges of your sanity fraying with the memory of his touch. The whole day, you've been remembering how it felt to have your pussy stretched around his cock, how it felt to have his hands on your curves, how he seemed to know exactly how to touch your body to make you keen. (Shin admits he cheated; a little ESP goes a long way in bed.) You soaked the sheets when you finally came, and he kissed you relentlessly through your orgasm. It made you so horny that you had to immediately go another round.
No other man’s ever made you cum like that, you keep thinking. You've fucked more people than you can count, but not a single person has ever felt so good inside you. The realisation is driving you crazy, and Shin feels like he's about to go crazy with you. In the absence of a cold shower, he wants to shove himself into the freezer right now. There's no other way to get rid of his raging boner.
How did it feel so fucking good?! you keep thinking, oblivious to his struggles. I need his cock inside me again. I need him to hit it raw this time. I need him to bend me over the counter and cum in my pussy right now—
It makes him want to die, listening to your thoughts. It also confuses him, somewhat: he isn't that experienced, and objectively he’s a little clumsy in bed. His performance is probably mid in the grand scheme of things, which makes him wonder why you feel like his dick is heaven-sent.
But more than anything, Shin wonders if you ever think about anything other than his dick. Sex isn't the only thing the two of you have done together. The first time you hooked up, he'd spent the night at your place. You clung to him in his sleep and you drooled on his chest and he thought it was kinda funny. He was careful not to wake you as he wiped your chin. You’d cooked him breakfast by the time he'd woken up: homemade miso, fresh rice, tamagoyaki. He made you burnt coffee after. You gave him a goodbye kiss, which somehow turned into a goodbye blowjob, which then escalated into wasting the day together in bed. You were really cuddly the whole time, and Shin could hear you think, how weird, I hate it when people hold me, and I hate it when people kiss me, but you liked it from Shin. You liked it so much that your pussy started dripping, and then what else could you do but suck him off again? (He returned the favour, of course.)
There was a lot more than just fucking, but you never think about any of that other stuff. You only ever think about his stroke game.
Not that that bothers Shin. Not at all. Not one bit.
By noon, he reaches his limit.
Shin considers himself a responsible guy and dedicated employee. He'd ordinarily never want to take off in the middle of the day to fool around with you—or anyone else—but it's his lunch break, and he has to get you to stop fantasizing. His dick is so hard that it's painful, and even with the apron it's getting tricky to cover up. As soon as the clock hits 12, he's throwing it off and making a beeline for you.
“We need to talk,” he says, grabbing you by the hand, and the face you make is so giddy that he can't help but sigh. You’re practically beaming as you take off your apron and say bye to Lu. We’ll be back in 30! you tell her in a sing-song voice, because you’re a very conscientious worker even when outrageously horny.
“You heard my thoughts?” you ask as the two of you climb the stairs to his room, and he snorts.
“How couldn't I?” He gives you a miserable look, cheeks flushing. “Were you doing that on purpose the whole morning?”
“No.” He raises a brow. “I'm serious—I wasn't trying to cause any trouble for you! It's just…” You bite your lip, and it takes all of Shin’s self-control to stop himself from staring at its glossy sheen. “I really just need to be touched again.”
“I don't believe you,” he says as he pulls you into his room.
“You're an esper! You should know I'm telling the truth!”
“I also know you like to torture me with your thoughts.”
“Well, yeah…” You smile at him, sheepish. “But I really just need a bit of relief. Want me to prove it to you?”
There's a sudden glint in your eye that makes Shin nervous, out of his depth. Sometimes he gets the feeling that you want to eat him alive, and he never knows how to handle it. He’s never gotten this level of attention before, and never in his wildest dreams did he think he'd get it from someone like you.
(Yeah—you're way out of Shin's league. For all his plans of a civilian romance, he wasn’t sure if he could actually score a date with you. He still isn't sure if he can score one. He's also not sure he’ll survive this encounter.)
He swallows. “Prove it…?”
“Uh huh.” You look so pretty right now, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Let me show you.”
You read too much hentai. Shin knows this firsthand (you read a lot of it on the clock, and all the images get blasted right into his prefrontal cortex), but he can also tell from how you act. It’s just way too fucking outrageous when you spread your legs for him, pulling up your skirt, and he's greeted not by the sight of your panties (you wore a lacy pair to work and kept bending over in hopes of flashing him—you had not been shy at all in this thought), but your bare, glistening cunt.
No fucking way.
“You’ve been working like that?!” he blurts out, mildly horrified even though his dick is jumping at the sight of you. You laugh, and you conjure up your panties from somewhere. They dangle from your fingertips, sheer and drenched.
“Took them off as we came up here. They're useless now anyway, see”—they’ve been soaked through for hours, and my thighs are all sticky—“and besides… I wanted to give you easy access.”
He thinks he's going to pass out.
“Easy access,” he repeats stiffly, bright red.
“Uh huh. Wanted to be efficient—we only have, what, twenty minutes?” Before he can even react, you're already turning around, bending over for him, ass up. From this angle, he can see just how wet you are—and how you're clenching around nothing, your cunt empty and needing to be filled. You glance over your shoulder, give him a teasing smile. “What are you waiting for?”
It’s a wonder that Shin doesn't cum on the spot, really. Like he said—he isn't an experienced guy. He's never slept with anyone so forward, or so—well. Smoking hot, for lack of better word. Half of him has a mind to just stand there and say that he can't believe you, and half of him has a mind to fuck you like you've been hoping all morning. Thankfully, this latter half of him wins out—probably for the better. If he helps you work this out of your system, you'll probably stop assaulting his mind with all your horny thoughts and his dick can exist in peace for the rest of the afternoon. Right?
Right?
(He ends up being extremely wrong.)
By the time he's pulled down his pants, put a condom on, and started pushing inside you, the two of you have seventeen minutes left. He worries briefly that it won't be enough time to get you to cum (nor him, though that isn't his goal currently), but it turns out to be a non-issue. Your pussy swallows his cock easily, stretching around him so perfectly that he nearly chokes. He always hears you talking about how sex with him feels leagues better than with any other person, but he’s not sure if you know that the same is true for him. No one's ever felt as good as you, and it takes every ounce of willpower in him not to cum immediately.
You're already close to the edge, too. Probably pent up from squeezing your thighs together all morning and thinking about his touch. You moan in a way that is obscene, like something out of an AV—but Shin knows that it isn't a performance. He can feel your body and hear your thoughts, all the genuine bliss you get from being filled up. When he starts moving, it's with intent. He fucks you like you’ve been fantasising all day, all week—with a relentless pace, focused on giving you nothing but pleasure. You tighten around him like you were made for him, and—
—apparently you feel like you're being used? Like a hole? The fuck! Shin almost stops mid-stroke to balk at you—he wouldn't do that to you!—but then you moan and he feels you getting wetter at the thought, and then he has no choice but to keep going. He's not about to kill your high.
Nine minutes left. Your clit is throbbing, neglected, and as soon as you think about touching yourself, Shin’s fingers are circling it instead and making you keen. He hits the spot inside you that has your eyes rolling back and your spine arching beautifully, and you can’t speak with your mouth, but he hears you anyway: the begging, the neediness, right there right there you're doing so good Shin you feel so good don't stop don't stop don't, don't—
“Oh fuck,” you whimper, pressing your face into the sheets, and then Shin feels you pulsing around him, drenching him. He gets dragged over the edge with you, gasping sharply as he finds his own release. You collapse as he twitches inside you, spilling himself inside the condom, and he almost snorts when he hears you thinking, wish you were cumming in my pussy instead. Do it raw next time, okay?
“You know we have to use a condom,” he says between pants.
“But I'm on birth control! Read my mind—you know I'm telling the truth!”
“And I also know that birth control is only 93% effective,” he says, rolling his eyes. He glances at the clock. “C'mon—we only have five minutes until our lunch break ends.”
It feels a little weird, rushing you. He’s never had a quickie before, but he understands that you can't exactly take your time with cleaning up afterwards. Still, he thinks about what it was like the last time the two of you did this—how slow and soft it was after, how he stayed inside you for a bit, how he kissed you long and cleaned you up carefully. It just felt like the right thing to do after sleeping with someone, especially given that that someone was you. He'd much prefer to do that right now.
But you are both punctual workers, and anyway Shin’s heard enough of your idle thoughts to know that you’re fairly apathetic to aftercare—you never expect it, and you’re never particularly sad when you don't get it. Sometimes you even fantasize about being used roughly and then discarded (a thought that he finds so unpleasant that it instantly kills his boner every time).
So it's probably fine to rush back downstairs, he figures. He throws you some wipes, lets you clean yourself up. You do it without complaint. You're not upset. He can even hear your mind humming with satisfaction, coming down from the highs of sensory pleasure.
Which is why he's confused when he hears you think, Huh. That didn't feel as good as I thought it would.
It's not like it felt bad.
This is what Shin hears all afternoon: You had a good time. You generally like being treated like a hole. You hadn't thought that Shin would have it in him to do that (neither did he, he admits), but it was kind of thrilling that he did. You want him to do it again for sure. He hit your g-spot with the kind of precision that only an esper can manage, and your vision nearly went white as you found your climax.
And that's what matters, right? You came. You had an orgasm. The little death. The ultimate goal of sex. You used to have a hard time with it, but after so many missions your body started to enjoy sex and now you cum very easily. And you came very easily with Shin, so that means you must enjoy having sex with him too, right?
But it was better the first time you had sex. Objectively better. You came way harder. You even squirted during your second round with him! Your orgasm was so intense that you felt blissed out for the rest of the night, and even the morning after. When you woke up and realised that Shin was not only still there, but also holding you, it made you so horny that you nearly woke him up with a blowjob. It was only with great self-control that you woke him up with breakfast instead.
You don’t feel like that right now, though. You don't feel horny and you don't feel like cooking and the euphoria of your orgasm melted away a while ago. You just feel sort of… empty.
You don't feel bad, though. It's a beautiful day. The char siu bao in your hand is incredibly fragrant. Piisuke is on your shoulder and chirping in your ear. Shin looks really handsome in his apron—did you know that, Shin? you ask him in your mind—and he goes bright red at this thought and looks away. You don't feel bad, you mentally reassure him. You just don't feel as good as you thought you would.
But Shin does feel bad. He feels miserable, actually. He's not a very experienced guy, but even he can tell that you’re the type of person who needs to be held after having sex. It seems like you probably don't realise it, but it's clear as day to Shin, and for the rest of the afternoon he hates himself for not having done it. It wouldn’t have had to be for very long.
Lu could have covered for an extra fifteen minutes, he keeps thinking. Fuck!
Eventually, you ask him to come over in the evening, and he scrambles to agree, desperate for a do-over.
Shin’s not really good at this hook-up business.
Now—he isn't exactly good at relationships either, but he feels exceptionally awkward about coming over to your place with the express purpose of having sex. He isn't familiar with dick appointment etiquette, especially not appointments involving a friend. Was he meant to bring a gift? A Netflix movie recommendation? It would have felt wrong to show up completely empty-handed, so he ends up bringing your favourite snacks and two bottles of Pocari Sweat. If this is anything like the first time he stayed over, you'll probably both need it.
You're delighted by the snacks and amused by the drinks. He wrestles with himself over what kind of small-talk to make—there’s a PS5 out right now, and your TV screen is paused on Leon Kennedy’s face, so maybe he can start a conversation about the horror genre? He watches a lot of films—but you're dragging him into your room before he can overthink it.
“I missed you,” you say, voice all sweet with affection as you straddle his lap.
“It's been two hours,” he points out, somehow managing not to stammer.
“Eight hours since we fucked.”
“That's not very long at all.”
“Felt like forever to me.” Your whisper is so tender in his ear, incongruent with the absolute filth you're thinking about right now. You need his cock so, so bad—you’d have it inside you 24/7 if you could have it your way, though he's also free to help himself to your body at any hour of the day. Sure, he can't smoke on the premises, but there's no rule against hiking up your skirt and pushing your panties to the side so he can—
“I wouldn't do that in the store!” he squawks, and you giggle.
“Then you should start taking me up to your room more often.”
Shin would be more than happy to host you, actually. He’s been thinking lately about having you over for dinner—Aoi’s been teaching him how to cook—and getting to know you better, in a non-Biblical way. But Shin knows that's not what you mean. You want him to carry you upstairs without asking and to throw you onto his bed and to fuck you into the mattress. You want to go back to your shift without your panties, his cum dripping out of your pussy and sliding down your—
“You really want me to finish inside you,” Shin remarks, bewildered at your sheer obsession over it, and you tilt your head.
“Don't you?”
“No. I mean, yes. I mean—we shouldn't. It's, uh. Risky. I don't want to get you, y'know… pregnant…” His dick twitches in a way that makes him grateful that you don't have ESP. He's realising something about himself that he absolutely cannot think about, and which you would absolutely exploit if you figured out. He clears his throat, hoping he looks normal. “Like. You know. It's better to be on the safe side.”
You study him carefully. “I dunno, Shin.” You smile knowingly. “I don't think I'd mind it if you wanted to breed me.”
Shin is going to die.
The next twenty minutes pass in a horny blur. The two of you spend it all over each other, his cock sliding along your opening—dangerously close to pushing in. You beg him for just the tip, both verbally and mentally—pleaaase Shin please please please it'd be so easy, I'm still stretched out from before, you know it'd feel good—and he's watched enough adult films to know that this is a blatant trap. He somehow pulls away, and immediately feels bad at the crushed expression you make, so he decides he has no choice but to make it up to you by putting his head between your thighs. Within minutes he’s sucking on your clit and making you keen, his fingers curling inside you. He knows your orgasm is intense both from the way you gush all over his face and how your mind goes pleasantly, blissfully quiet for a moment.
It doesn't stay quiet for long.
The most debauched image possible comes to his mind—you, underneath him, your legs folded into a mating press as you take his cock. He’s giving you another load, pumping you full. It's filling up your womb, and you'll definitely get pregna—
“You’re fucking evil,” he groans. “And you read way too much hentai. Those visuals were so goofy.”
You laugh, unbothered. “Sorry, I'll adjust them for realism next time.”
“Please don't,” he begs, even though he knows he's going to spend the next week being mentally assaulted by your breeding kink fantasies. He just hopes they stay relatively normal and don't devolve into the weird omegaverse stuff. Or the monsterfucking stuff. Or the gangbang scenarios. Please, God, anything but the gangbang fantasies. He’ll scream if you imagine another threesome with him and that invisible asshole who kidnapped Lu. He’ll simply resign if you add Nagumo.
To your profound disappointment, Shin ends up using a condom. He doesn't give you much time to feel sad about it, settling quickly between your legs and practically knocking the breath out of you as he thrusts into you. He’s left kind of breathless too. You weren't lying—you are still stretched out from earlier in the day, wet and pliant for him, and there's hardly any resistance as he starts pumping into you. He watches you carefully, laid out underneath him—your eyes squeezing shut as you're made to take his cock. Your mind goes a little quiet again, overwhelmed by pleasure. It's simultaneously a blessing and a curse: Shin’s finally getting a break from your psychic teasing, but the knowledge that he's fucking you dumb is doing something horrible to him.
He changes his angle, and a whimper leaves you. You tighten and gush around him in a way that makes it obvious what he’s hitting; he doesn't need ESP to know to keep doing it. Still, your thoughts are going haywire, a tangle of desire, and it's impossible for him to ignore. I need, he keeps hearing as your thighs starts to twitch, as you start tearing up, I need I need I need I need—
Your eyes land on his lips, and Shin hears you.
His kiss is open-mouthed, clumsy, but you’re hungry for it anyway. You’re panting into each other’s mouths when you start pulsing around Shin’s dick, and you end up cumming so hard on his cock that it's dizzying for you both. He fucks you through your orgasm, and it's only when you're glassy-eyed and limp beneath him that he finally lets himself finish. He pulls back as he does, gasping sharply, but not for long—you draw him back in quickly, clinging to him as you seek out another kiss. The two of you stay like that for a long moment—still connected, breaths heavy with exhaustion, lips slow and lazy against each other.
“Enjoy yourself more this time?” Shin asks, and you hum sweetly against his mouth. You’re still too mindless from your orgasm to form any real thoughts, but Shin can tell that you don't really want to talk. You want to keep kissing him. And you want him to hold you while you do it, which he happily obliges.
Some ten minutes later, you make a small noise of protest when Shin pulls out of you, and it turns into a look of outright betrayal when he gets up. Shin’s heart clenches immediately.
“Just getting stuff to clean up,” he explains, and you relax visibly.
“Oh,” you say. “Right.”
You seem antsy. You feel antsy. You're antsy because you just realised how much you like kissing Shin. Specifically, you've realised that kissing him elevates your orgasms into mind-blowing experiences, and now you're questioning every other orgasm you've had. Maybe I don't actually enjoy sex that much? you wonder. Or maybe I always needed to be kissed to enjoy it more? Wait, no. I hate it when people kiss me. It's gross. Except for when it's Shin. Why Shin? Hm… that apron must really be doing something for me.
Your head hurts. Shin patiently watches you replay your past experiences in your head, comparing all those nights with this one, and he can’t help but frown. Deeply. Your eyes go wide when he gives you an alarmed look at one particular memory.
“Shit, sorry! I forgot you’d see all that.”
“No, I'm sorry,” he says, feeling—not for the first time—guilty about his powers. “If I could turn it off, I would.”
“Don't be sorry. You can't help it. That'd be like if I were sorry for breathing.” But despite your easy words, you’re watching him carefully, and your mind is stirring in an unsettling way. I'm nervous? you realise. Your heart is beating in a way that suggests a flight or fight response. It gets worse the longer you stare at him. Why am I nervous? Tell me, Shin.
“I wouldn't know.” Except he’s got a good guess, and he'd rather die than say it out loud because it would be embarrassing for you both if he were wrong. He'd have to resign. Nevertheless, he tries to guide you in a specific direction: “Have you really never liked it when people kissed you?”
“No,” you reply immediately. “I don't see the point of kissing during sex.”
He gives you a long look. “What if it’s not just sex? What if it's just a regular kiss on a regular day with, like, a partner? Someone you're really serious about.” He blinks at the confused stare you're giving him. “You mean you don't like that either?”
It's suddenly very noisy. Shin can hear your mind buzzing as you stare at the ceiling of your room, not with coherent sentences so much as shapeless confusion. His skin crawls with the echo of your discomfort; it's a wonder you aren't slipping out from the sheets to run away.
“...I don't know,” you finally decide. “I don't have much real dating experience.”
“Huh? You’ve said before that you've dated lots of guys.”
“Um.” You’re careful not to look at him. “Yeah, I guess. They all sucked though. I, like, wanted to kill every single one of my exes.”
“Like they were shitty boyfriends?”
No, like they were assassination targets, you think, and Shin has to keep a straight face as you reply, “Yeah, something like that.”
You rarely lie to Shin. You did it somewhat frequently until you figured out that he was capable of ESP, and then you stopped because you didn't see a point anymore. You only do it now when there's something you really don't want to talk about, so Shin relents. He focuses on cleaning himself up, and he interrupts the tense hum of your thoughts when he turns his attention to you. By the time he's finished and slid back into bed, your more complicated emotions have vanished, and you're back to marveling at the quality of the orgasm you just had. Apparently you like to keep things fairly simple in your inner world.
When Shin puts an arm around you, he can hear your pleasant surprise—and your immediate desire to press into him.
You're so happy just being held by him, it's shocking. And painfully endearing. Shin tries to pretend not to notice the warm glow of your thoughts, as well as your confusion over them: surely the simple act of being close to someone can't feel so good. Maybe the whole kissing thing was just a coincidence and Shin happened to be hitting it just right when your lips met. Or maybe he used his ESP on you to make you cum extra hard and he's still influencing you, and that's why you feel so tenderhearted right now.
“My powers only allow me to read minds,” he tells you. “I can't control other people.”
“Aw,” you say, “that's too bad. I bet forced orgasms with ESP would feel amazing.”
“...”
Shin realises something else about himself that he absolutely cannot let you know. Thankfully for him, you're none the wiser. Your mind’s somewhere else entirely when you climb on top of him, smiling neatly. Mind you, what you're thinking is still making him feel nervous. He's always a little out of his depth with you.
“Shin…”
You lean in, breath sweeping over his lips. His heart jumps.
“Y-yeah?”
“I'm still confused about how that felt so good.”
“I’ve noticed.”
You hold back a laugh. “Yeah, I guess you would have.” Then you give him an apologetic look. “Sorry I'm so stuck on it. I just thought I knew my body, y'know? I felt like I had tried everything worth trying. Sex was starting to feel boring, including the freaky stuff. But this is very new to me.”
This close up, Shin can feel the brush of your lashes when they flutter. See the glossy swell of your lips from all the kissing. Take in the fragrance of your hair. He starts to feel dizzy. “I-is it? I don't think we've been doing anything, uh. Crazy.”
“I didn't think so either.” Your thumb traces his lip. You're thinking about kissing him again, and you're also thinking about riding him as you do it. “I can't help but want to try it a few more times, you know? Just to make sure it wasn't a fluke.”
“A few more times,” he repeats, and you smile.
“You don't have anywhere you need to be tonight, do you?”
The two of you get two hours of sleep that night, and you end up going through both bottles of Pocari Sweat and all the snacks. There's no time for breakfast or burnt coffee the morning after; you make the executive decision to just eat something at the store instead. Shin leaves behind a toothbrush and you tell him he should also bring an extra set of clothes next time. He tries not to get too excited about the fact that there's going to be a next time. He fails.
Mr. Sakamoto sees the two of you as you make it to work just on time together and immediately figures out what's happened. Shin gets a mental reprimand for not marrying you first, and the disappointment from Mr. Sakamoto is so strong that he briefly considers resigning out of disgrace. But he stays on, and the days pass, and your relationship with him remains the same. Sort of.
Because, see. Now that you're regularly getting laid, your horny thoughts have finally (finally!) calmed down. You now have one free-use fantasy a day instead of twelve, and your daydreams only occasionally feature tentacle monsters. You do like to torture Shin with breeding kink scenarios, but that's only once a day, and they never involve any other guys. Shin considers this a victory, respite from the psychic agony that he was previously experiencing.
There's just one problem.
You want to kiss Shin all the time now, and it's making him feel like the horniest person alive.
He can't believe it. He doesn't have a particularly strong sex drive, and he rarely ever has sexual fantasies. But holy shit is he having them a lot now, and he can't say it's strictly your fault.
You spend most of the day now thinking about what it felt like to kiss him in bed, and what it felt like to hold his hand as he moved inside you, and what it felt like to be in his arms afterwards. What it would feel like if you were to do those things that you used to hate—kissing someone, linking fingers, embracing them—with Shin. Not just in bed, but on a regular day, out in the open. In a secluded park somewhere, or maybe at the top of a Ferris wheel, or even on a random street corner if the mood is right. All of these daydreams are usually followed by very explicit fantasies about public, unprotected sex, but the kissing is the most important part of it. The subsequent creampies are pretty significant too, but not nearly as much as the bits where you make out.
And somehow, the thought of cumming in you is not the part of the fantasy that's driving Shin crazy.
You give him a meaningful look. A week ago, this would have been a sign that you wanted him to bend you over the counter and give you backshots. Now it means you want to sneak away to kiss him and hold hands, and this makes him want to do things to you that would get him fired immediately.
Shin sighs, and he contemplates shoving himself into the freezer.
END
I wrote this with one hand and did not proofread it. my apologies if you see any errors. I just needed to be free of these thoughts asap. release me...
PS - I know the Resident Evil/Leon Kennedy mention must have felt very random, but it's set-up for potential future sequels haha.
i hate mischaracterizing characters, so for anyone who wants these, here are some facts/implied info about characters:
isagi is a loner and often skips out on parties and social events. this is because of how shy and awkward he is around other people and loud environments. (light novel, implied in the manga)
it’s impossible for nagi to hate anyone. even if someone is constantly making him work hard or taking his phone and games away, he is always calm and a pacifist. (egoist bible, implied in the manga)
rin is extremely kind and emotional under his stoic and emo exterior. he gives foreign tourists extremely detailed directions and is implied to be a good captain. (light novel, implied in the manga)
rin is also academically stupid in everything other than english. this is because he’s dead set on being a soccer player and therefore sees no point in any class other than english. (light novel)
karasu loves anything he finds special. he thinks that even rin and isagi are mediocre even though their blue lock’s number one, but he had a childhood crush on the only person he found special, a girl named marissa. (egoist bible)
sae doesn’t realize that he’s rude or has any malicious intent when he’s being an asshole. he just says what’s on his mind, no matter how mean or blunt. it’s confirmed that he does have friends, so he’s probably not always like this. (egoist bible, manga)
it’s a particularly cold day in the little town you’re passing through. the train isn’t for another hour, and you don’t favour your odds of waiting out on a park bench. with all this in mind, you find yourself entering a little shop down the corner street.
sakamoto’s — it’s warm.
that’s your first thought upon stepping indoors and hearing the soft bell chime. warm and well-lit, offering a semblance of peace in the otherwise frigid winter scene outdoors.
you rub your palms as you walk through the different aisles. you wonder what you could carouse; perhaps some crackers for the train ride? perhaps a little dessert? then again, you had an hour to kill before making your way to the station.
glancing out the frosted windows, you see the snow piling up along the asphalt. the lamplights shine like liquid gold over the black ice.
“excuse me?”
you nearly jolt at the abrupt voice. when you turn, you see someone — a clerk, judging by the apron — standing before you. he has a slight smile, vaguely apologetic. “yes?”
“is this what you were looking for?” he holds out a basket towards you.
you stare. first at the basket; at the assortment of goods stacked neatly within, including the rice crackers you’d eyed earlier, a ramen cup, and pudding; then, at the clerk. he tilts his head, pleasantly so, unassuming, you think.
but what you say contradicts the assumption. “were you following me?”
his eyes widen. “what? no —”
“how else would you know what I was looking for?”
his hand falters, and he withdraws the basket uncertainly. “well, I saw you when you had entered the shop — you walked through those aisles.”
“oh.” you relax marginally, somewhat placated by the rationality. “I’m sorry. yes, thank you.”
you accept the basket, feeling your fingers brush his. he withdraws swiftly, startling you, though he stutters an apology upon catching your reaction. it’s sweet, you think.
cute.
his cheeks bloom rosily — pink as though they were flushed from frostbite.
“cold?” you ask. the shop seemed warm, however. it only made you peer closer at him in concern.
“no, no. I’m fine. thank you.”
“that’s good —” you drop your gaze to his name tag, tasting the vowels and rhythm aloud, “— shin.”
cute name. it suits him.
his cheeks darken almost as soon as the thought populates your mind, and you watch curiously as he averts his gaze.
“is something wrong?” you press.
“not at all.” he clears his throat, scratching his nape as he turns away. “if you’ll follow me, I can ring up your things.”
you don’t see any reason to oppose, and find yourself trailing after him. it’s a subtle notion — one that nearly escapes you. as you pass the sweets section, you idly eye a lollipop — cherry, wine-red. before you can even consider adding it to your basket, shin’s hand is already plucking it off the shelf.
you stare. he didn’t even pause — not to ask you, nor to confirm. he only offers another polite smile, amiable in spite of the remnants of rose in his cheeks. “on the house,” he says.
you think it’s far-fetched, but again, on impulse, think of something else. how cold it is outside; how much you are not looking forward to a cold trek to the train station.
he doesn’t so much as blink as he rings up your items at the register. “it’s pretty chilly tonight, isn’t it?”
“it is. do you live far from here?”
“nope.” his eyes flicker to the ceiling, a tender pacific blue in the shop’s warm lights. “just a floor above, actually. but I imagine anyone trying to get around town tonight will be in for a snowfall.”
“mhm.”
he hands you the lollipop, and you tuck it between your lips. you say lightly, deliberately, “don’t know any spots I could hunker down in for an hour, do you?”
shin blinks. once, taking in the candy between your teeth, then another to meet your gaze. “well, ah, the shop won’t close for a while. you could stay here. the station is a while off, too, so if you need help getting there, I don’t mind walking you after my shift.”
you hum. “that’s really nice of you, shin. thank you.”
“of course. it’s no trouble —?”
you offer him your name, along with a hand. he shakes it well — and you can’t help but notice the callouses lining his palms and fingers. far more than you’d expect from a typical shop clerk.
he withdraws his hand quickly, and you only tilt your head questioningly.
“guess you’re wondering about these scars, huh?” he laughs lightly — nervously, you’d have thought.
but your mind is elsewhere. you take greater fascination, then, when you pop the candy into your cheek, grinning with cherry-stained lips, as you say, “not as much as I’m wondering why a stranger knows I need to head to the train station in the middle of a blizzard. but we’ve got time — care to let me in on the secret, shin?”
He’s tall, charismatic, identifiable. he’s never the thief in his cons because that would be stupid; he’s got a team of people to do the actual stealing while he’s just the distraction. Cons of that magnitude require skill, precision and most importantly, a vision. And Aiku’s vision is unparalleled.
So he starts off with an elite team that steals little things and then it grows and grows until it’s him and 10 other guys (you know, like oceans 11 or the size of a soccer teams starting lineup) doing these magnanimous schemes.
His latest mark is Sae Itoshi: some brilliant billionaire baby genius working with one of the guys who ruined Aiku’s life; the reason he’s in the business of scamming, why he’s never known a home, why he has to chase instead of having. And so to hurt him he has to hurt Sae and that guys a fucking prick anyways, so why not.
And it really does all go according to plan; Oliver’s the guest of honor at the party Sae’s having and he’s seen and heard all night courtesy of some women who will demurely but gladly testify that they were in Oliver’s company. And the money Oliver and friends stole is stashed away so fucking far that none of his associates could be even remotely incriminated.
Except the police swarm Aiku’s car when the party’s over and he thinks the money is in a briefcase crossing the ocean, so he complies and cockily pops open the trunk which is supposed to be empty but is instead full of 20 million of Sae Itoshi’s dollars.
And then it explodes.
And Aiku spends his jail time wondering hard and long how the fuck this happened. He decides to pay a visit to every one of his lying bastards of friends, sendou first of all, when he remembers something that chilled his blood.
You were at Sae Itoshi’s party the night he got caught.
Blue Lock Boys in: What Natural Hairstyles do they like?
These are my personal thoughts on what hairstyles blue lock boys like on black women, you can either discuss civilly or argue with the wall if you're going to be mean. Examples/ links to each style is included!!
Isagi Yoichi: he likes twist outs! Really, he just likes big fluffy hair and twists outs, wand curls and blowouts reallllly are his fave. He likes the way it crowns your face, how it gives you a bunch of hair to work with and shape. Putting in a little headband? Nice. Side part with a pretty clip? Wow!! You look like an actress!! Half up half down?? You’re literally ethereal!! he likes to lay on it too; that’s definitely his favorite part. It’s soft to lay his head on while you’re sitting together on the train, or set his chin on when he’s just waiting in line. He thinks you’re a little angel with your hair like a cloud. x x
Mikage Reo: wigs, which feels wrong? lol you joke that he must hate your hair because he’s always buying you wigs and paying for installs but in all honesty he loves that you can be a whole new person. Keeps him on his toes. Has an affinity for longer hair, but likes different colors, kinda close in tone to his (what a surprise.) You could show up to his match in oversize sunglasses and a new wig and he’ll be like actually where the hell in my girlfriend. And when he finally sees you he’s like “hmmm idk I have a realllly fine woman waiting for me at home :/" “am I prettier than her?” “Nah, you just have different hair”
Nagi Seishiro: box braids. It’s boring but it was the first protective style he ever saw you wear and it blew him away. like you just suddenly had these long braids he could play with. He’s so weird, he like takes the end and runs it over his cheek and he’s like “feels good. Like a tiny paint brush. It’s soothing.” Like whatever baby genius! he also likes all the hairstyles you can pull off: his fave is the half up in space buns look cause it looks very much like a magical girl transformation. x x
Itoshi Sae: wildly enough, sae likes just the natural curls and coils. He’d like a twist out or a braid out too; anything that makes spirals. Lots of people in Spain had curly or textured hair and it really was the first time he experienced textured hair. It’s so pretty. It takes up space and it’s unapologetic and it really just enhances a woman’s natural beauty. Yeah. God forbid you have a curly up-do or a slick back with your curls out around itoshi sae. He’ll go insane. x x
Shidou Ryusei: Detailed cornrows/ Fulani braids. Can you get a shape in there? Can you get beads? curly strands? The more intricate the better. He likes when it makes sound or fucking defies gravity. He’s legit jealous. LOVES baby hairs too. He tried to cut baby hairs so you could do his edges like whoa ‼️lets calm down!! When he’s being a brat he’ll make you lay your head on his chest and trace your parts like a freak. It’s like a map to him? Like those maze games. He also will give you a scalp massage or oil your scalp down. Plus he loves if you use an actual durag to keep it in check. Calls you a g and chest bumps you. He’s so fucking stupid lol x x
Bachira Meguru: also loves hair in its natural coils, kinks, and curls. He thinks it’s so cool looking. He sees it as an extension of you and he loves that you can twist it and shape it all different types of ways! Will ask you if he can do your hair (do not let him!! at least, please help in out lol.) He loves adding accessories like barrettes, bows, clips etc. He’ll def try to match hair styles with you, like space buns, claw clips, little butterfly clips etc. Will also match said hairstyle. x x
Itoshi Rin: French curl braids. Although I'm a very big believer that Rin Itoshi loves alt hairstyles, this feels right too. They’re pretty and he thinks of them as refined. He loves walking around with you when you have French curl braids. You also buy into the stereotypes of French curl braids and dress and do your makeup accordingly. Rin thinks it’s funny to point of but also loves having you on his arm in public. Like ah yes, I’m Rin Itoshi I’m the best spiker in the world and my girlfriend is the prettiest fucking princess ever. Be warned though, he pulls hair. x x
Hyoma Chigiri: hear him out: y'all have the best hair together when you get a silk press. The INCHES. The silkiness. He thinks it makes your face the center of attention and frames it sleekly. Plus, y'all can do matching styles! He always tries out his signature half braided hairstyle on you and loves when you wear it to matches. He also likes when y'all just brush each others hair. Whatever your maintenance routine for your hair is, chigiri learns it so when you’re extra tired he’ll do it for you. (In return you gotta learn his. It’s the rule.) x x
Tabito Karasu: faux locs. Ohhh girl don’t have faux locs and be thirty feet NEAR this mf. He pisses me off. He thinks the extra long ones are so fucking dope. He likes the styles too, like the giant bun or the half up half down. He just loves how it looks too, like you’re so cool. He likes butterfly locs too btw, thinks you look like a fairy. x x
Eita Otoya: goddess braids. It’s peak baddie hair. He pays for it. Mans has barely ever let you pick another hairstyle. He tells people all types of extravagant lies about you when you get your hair done. It’s stupid. He also will post you on his insta??? his story at least. Damn, he really fuckin launched you cause of some goddess braids. Menacing. x x
Micheal Kaiser: French curl braids. And he’s annoying about it. What else do you need to know? (alright, alright. Kaiser has a lot of romantic imagery around him and he’d love someone with a romantic hairstyle. You’re soooo princess. Adorn yourself with bows and he’ll be at your beck and call. He loves if you’re ultra feminine with it, like pearl headbands and lacy bows and frilly hats. He spams his insta with you, showing off your beauty.) x x
Oliver Aiku: locs. Aiku loves him some originality, and he loves a bitch with locs. Bonus points if they’re dyed a color that’s oh so perfect for you. The styles are always top tier and always in awe of how it can be switched up. He’s seen people do really cool things with their locs, and he’d love to kinda see what it’s like to maintain them. When he realized it wasnt as effortless as he imagined he starts asking a million and ten question it feels like an interview. He’s just excited. He feels smug having you in his arm cause you’re gorgeous, you’re 1 of 1 and he has massive respect for you? He wins. x x
Sendou Shuto: wand curls: blowouts. He likes the big fluffy curls, kinda like these. He wants a Hollywood actress and that floaty hair of yours reminds him of old school glamour. And if you added a pearly headband or a ribbon or a headband? UGH. With a red lip? GAHH!! he’s head over heels. x
Barou Shohei: Fulani braids. Bruh. The designs?? Barou loves that shit. Listen, he’s the king so obviously you’re his queen, and you’ve gotta have the coolest, flashiest hair so ppl know their place if you’re around. Design? yes. Beads? YES!! And if you get anything remotely similar to the design in his hair he’s going to drop to one knee. For fucking real. x x x
