✦ 𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐃 ’𝐄𝐌 𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒, 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍— hcs .
✦ FUND ‘EM NAILS, GENTLEMEN ; all you want is a brand new and fresh set, and luckily, you have a boyfriend who has (a lot of) money .
✦ no pronouns mentioned 4 reader , est. relationship , sosoo much fluff , cutie patooties ong , maybe ooc? sorry if it is! i've been on n off w playing hsr . || wc. 2.3k || BARE W ME. this is my first hsr post !! also no amphoreus cc’s bc i hv no confidence in writing them yet (esp. mydei i love him sm but idw to mischaracterize him n the rest) … IK THE SPOILERS BUT PLS WJNDOWK — could u tell which one i had the most fun writing for……
EDIT : js posted the masterlist for hsr !!
✧ ft. jing yuan, caelus, dan heng, gepard, luocha, aventurine & sunday .
✦ JING YUAN :
you ask him right in the seat of divine foresight, while he’s leaning back in his chair pretending to work but actually daydreaming
“general, fund my nails… please.”
he blinks once. twice. then that lazy grin forms, the one that instantly means trouble. “fund your nails? and what department does this… fall under?”
“the morale department,” you say confidently. “you wouldn’t want a disheartened soldier would you, my lion?”
he lets out a low hum, clearly entertained and amused at the nickname. “ah, yes. morale. crucial for maintaining order on the luofu… especially when it’s coated in sparkles.”
“see! you get it.”
he tilts his head, eyes half-lidded with that amused glint. “very persuasive, i must say. i should add you to the council.”
you cross your arms. “so you’ll pay?”
he pretends to think, tapping a finger against his desk. “hmm… how much are we talking?”
when you tell him, his eyebrows rise slightly. “that much? are they gold-plated talons?”
“no,” you say sweetly, “just pretty.”
he hands you his card like he’s awarding you a medal “don’t spend it all in one salon.”
he gives fake lectures like “it’s important for one’s presentation to reflect inner discipline. a well-manicured hand, after all, wields the spear of duty more gracefully”
after you’re done, you swing by to show him your new nails and he immediately reaches for your hand
“hmm,” he murmurs, eyes tracing the shimmer, “so this is what victory looks like.”
“you mean my victory,” you correct, and he smiles wider
“of course,” he says, voice soft and teasing. “but allow me to enjoy the goods, troublemaker.”
he 100% shows up later in the day or at night, eyes half-lidded and smiling, saying “you should touch my hair with those. it’ll be poetic.”
“poetic?”
“mhm.”
next day he’s showing off your nails to yanqing. “see? even aesthetics can be a form of strategy”
yanqing deadpans at him
(next week he randomly transfers you credits “for maintenance” pretending it’s part of the official budget)
✦ CAELUS :
you bring it up so casually that he thinks he misheard you at first
“your what now?”
“my nails, boo. i need them done.”
his brain goes straight to shit like battle damage? talon reinforcement? weapon upgrade?
“…wait, like, painting nails?”
you nod like it’s the most natural request (it kinda is) in the world “don’t trailblazers have like, beauty budgets?”
“no?? we have repair budgets???”
“oh.. then let me ask hime—“
“NO! i’ll pay.. them for you if you really want it!”
“hmm? whaddya say again??” you ask with a small grin forming on your face
he groans, muttering a "you are so lucky you’re cute"
he pays anyway but he’s dramatic about it
“there goes my pay check. hope your glitter is worth my suffering…”
while you’re choosing colors, he hovers behind you giving fake commentary
“so that one’s pink, that one’s… slightly more pink? oh okay.”
“no no, you need something that says i could deck someone but.. politely.”
he yells tells the tech a million times to “make sure they can still punch enemies. we need full mobility!”
later when you show him your finished nails, he pretends to shield his eyes
“too shiny! i’m blinded!”
“oh you love it”
“… yeah maybe i do” he says with a grin, watching you giggle and wiggle your fingers like you just got a new relic
then very quietly he murmurs “worth every credit..”
✦ DAN HENG :
you drop it on him so casually it fries his brain
“hey data boy, can you pay for my nails pretty please?”
he’s mid-scroll on his data pad. pauses. looks up slowly and lets out a “…pardon?”
his voice does that flat calm thing he uses when he’s actually panicking internally
“just a manicure,” you say, waving your hand like it’s nothing, “and maybe some little sparkly designs. nothing crazy!"
his eyes flick to your hand for way too long. “sparkly?”
“mhm.”
“...and why do you need me to pay for it?”
you grin “becauseee you like me!"
immediate silence... he stares at you with that unreadable expression for a full five seconds
he sighs. “…i suppose that’s one way to phrase it.”
transfers the credits anyway
“think of it as... an early investment in my self-care,” you tease.
“...you’re impossible,” he mutters, but his ears are tinged with some redness
when you come back showing them off, he looks up from his data pad for half a second and goes completely still
“...they’re… nice.” his voice is too soft though
you wiggle your fingers in front of his blushing face, “you paid for them, you can look ya know."
“they suit you.” his tone is flat but his tail (if he's in form, PT/IL) would be swishing slowly and slightly curled around your leg
“i didn’t realize beauty services were this effective.”
“effective?”
“…you’re distracting, my dear.”
cue his immediate regret and your victorious smirk
✦ GEPARD :
you catch him right after patrol, still in uniform, adjusting his gloves and looking every bit the responsible captain he is. you figure it’s the perfect time
“captain cutie,” you start, all casual, “could you pretty please pay for my nails?”
he pauses. doesn’t even blink for a good three seconds. you can see the gears in his head trying to process whether this is an emergency or a prank (processing the nickname too)
“your... nails?” he finally says, voice so careful like he’s afraid it’s a trick question
“national morale,” you explain with an exaggerated sigh “how could the partner of belobog’s bravest captain be walking around with chipped polish?”
“i... suppose that makes sense,” he murmurs, scratching his neck
you show him the design— pale blue, with little snowflake accents to match his armor. you don’t miss how his expression softens immediately
“you chose this because of... me?” he asks quietly.
you shrug, pretending to be nonchalant. “maybe. so... you’re paying?”
his face turns red. the kind of red that makes his ears vividly contrast against his blue and white armor
“how much would that be?” he asks, still trying to sound composed, but his voice gives him away
when you tell him the price, he actually chokes. “that’s— that’s a lot!”
“not for national morale,” you say solemnly.
and that’s it. he sighs like a man burdened with the weight of love and financial responsibility. “fine. just... promise me you’ll eat something before and after.”
you take off gleefully, but not before giving him a smooch on his cheek with a dramatic 'thank you, my knight in shining armor!'
his face is now the epitome of a tomato.
when you show him the finished nails the next day, he’s absolutely speechless. his gaze lingers longer than it should...
“they... suit you,” he manages, then a quiet smile creeps across his face “and i like how they match me.”
serval finds out, obviously, and teases him for a solid week. “captain, i didn’t know ‘nail funder’ was part of your title.”
he just groans and hides his face in his hands. “they’re impossible.”
but he’s smiling the whole time and later, when you stretch your hand out toward him, wiggling your pretty nails, he takes it without hesitation
✦ LUOCHA :
“this one looks nice…” you mumble, zooming in on a photo of shimmery pink nails
luocha hums from across the room, wiping his hands with a towel after tending to a patient
“you sound like someone with a wish they’re not saying aloud.”
you glance up, a little sheepish. “it’s silly. i wanted to get my nails done, but… i’m kind of saving up right now.”
he tilts his head, that gentle smile curving his lips. “ah. so you’d rather let your hands stay bare than let me help?”
you blink. “wait— i didn’t—”
“then it’s settled,” he says, already reaching for his pouch
you swear he’s faster than any combat medic should be...
“luo, i wasn’t asking for money!”
“of course not,” he replies smoothly, slipping a small envelope toward you. “it’s simply a token of appreciation. after all, those hands have patched me up more times than i can count.”
you try to hand it back, but he only smiles softly, eyes glinting beneath his pretty lashes
“humor me, please. it would be… nice, to see something so delicate adorned properly.”
later, when you return from the salon, he’s brewing tea, the faint scent of herbs drifting through the air
you hold out your hands shyly. “well... what do you think?”
“beautiful,” he murmurs, taking your hand in his. his thumb traces lightly along your knuckles
“you chose well. it suits you, sweetheart.”
he pauses, smile softening like silk. “perhaps next time, you’ll let me come with you. i’d like to see how the process works.”
you laugh quietly “you’d really sit there while i get my nails done?”
“i’ve spent hours watching petals unfurl,” he says, eyes warm. “i imagine it’s quite similar.”
that night, you’re both half-asleep in bed. he lies behind you, one hand tucked near your pillow, the other lightly draped over your waist
absentmindedly, you reach up and toy with a lock of his hair— soft, cool, faintly scented of lavender
he doesn’t move at first, only hums in quiet contentment
“careful,” he whispers, voice low against your shoulder. “if you keep touching me like that, i’ll start to believe you did your nails just for me.”
you chuckle softly, still half-asleep. “maybe i did.”
there’s a pause. then a faint chuckle, almost too quiet to catch
“then i suppose,” he says, brushing his lips against your hair, “i regret nothing.”
✦ AVENTURINE :
it starts when you’re scrolling through pictures on your phone and sigh way too dramatically. aventurine looks up immediately, because of course he does
“what’s with the face? you look like someone just raised your rent.”
you don’t even look up. “just my nails. they’re chipped. i was gonna get them done, but the salon i want is… kinda expensive.”
he hums, already smiling like he knows where this is going
“oh? and you were planning to bat those pretty lashes at me until i offered, weren’t you?”
you roll your eyes, but he’s already pulling out his card
“aventurine—”
“shhh. i’m doing something generous. don’t ruin the moment.”
he scrolls through salons on his own phone, pretending to be busy
“hm. 8000 credits for a simple gloss? outrageous. anyway, i booked you an appointment for the deluxe tier. your welcome, gorgeous.”
he booked it before you even said yes.
“aventurine, i wasn’t even—”
“oh come on, you can’t expect me to let my partner walk around with chipped nails. what would that say about me? a man of wealth and taste, defeated by a manicure crisis?”
later, he actually drives you there (well, more like lounges beside you in the floating cab, sunglasses on indoors)
when the stylist greets you, aventurine flashes his classic grin. “give them the works. we’re talking diamonds, chrome, enchantments, whatever makes angels jealous.”
you swear the stylist’s eyes turn into credit signs..
while you’re getting your nails done, he lounges nearby scrolling through his messages, but keeps sneaking glances at you
“you look good in gold lighting,” he mutters, pretending he didn’t say it like it was just the wind
when you tease him for staring at you, he goes, “me? never. i’m simply… assessing the return on my investment.”
during dinner he gradually goes quiet, gaze dropping to your hands resting on the table
the faint sparkle of your freshly done nails catches the light and his attention
“so that’s where my money went,” he hums, chin propped in his hand, lips quirking like he’s both judging and deeply entertained
you playfully roll your eyes, “you offered, remember? and you were there!”
he tilts his head, grin widening— completely ignoring your latter statement. “did i? or did you just look at me like that until i gave in?”
he says it in that slow, teasing tone, like he’s testing how flustered he can make you before you look away
you reach for your drink, pretending to ignore him— he chuckles under his breath, leaning a little closer across the table
“don’t hide ‘em now,” he murmurs, voice softer. “you wanted me to notice, didn’t you?”
the teasing fades into something gentler for a moment, his gaze lingering not on the color but on you
“guess i don’t mind funding a little beauty if it keeps you smiling like that,” he says, offhand, like he didn’t just make your heart stutter mid-sip
✦ SUNDAY :
you ask him half-jokingly if he’d pay for your nails, just to see what he’d say
sunday looks up from the book he’s reading, one eyebrow raised, like he’s trying not to smile
“your nails?” he repeats, voice all calm and slow like he’s testing you
you grin. “yeah. think of it as… charity.”
he laughs under his breath ,a quiet little sound that makes you grin even wider
“charity, huh? fine,” he says, finally setting his book aside. “guess i can sponsor your next divine act of self-care, sweetheart.”
you don’t actually expect him to do it, but of course he does — transfers the credits without blinking
“don’t spend it all in one salon,” he teases, eyes gleaming in that lazy way of his
later, when you show him the finished look— pretty, shiny, exactly how you wanted— he just looks for a long moment, gaze thoughtful
“so?” you ask, waving your hand teasingly, “worth it, sunny?”
sunday hums, leaning in a little. “you’re asking if i like them, darling?”
you nod and then he takes your hand, turning it slightly under the soft lighting of the sun setting
“like’s not the word,” he says, his voice going soft, teasing but warm. “they suit you. bold, a little too pretty for their own good.”
you roll your eyes, pretending to pull your hand away but he holds on with gentle hands
“what?” you ask, flustered
“you truly have a way of turning the mundane into something sacred,” he says, eyes flicking up to meet yours. there’s amusement there, but also that quiet reverence that always makes your heart trip
you snort, “they’re just nails, sunny.”
“can’t help it,” sunday adds, “when the canvas is this beautiful.”
you go quiet and he grins, clearly knowing what he’s doing
he laughs softly when you get flustered, thumb brushing over your knuckles like he’s blessing them (bless me too sunday)
later, when you catch him absentmindedly glancing at your hands mid-conversation, pretending not to, he only shrugs when you call him out
“perhaps I am guilty,” he admits with a faint smirk. “but can you fault a man for admiring his own investment?”
© zzenkha . . . 2022 ,, do not repost, plagiarise, translate any of my works. ; reblogs w/ tags are very much appreciated!
