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astrcmoni · 2 months ago

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℘ ࣪₊ bleeding blue ࣪₊ ㅤㅤ℘

MASTERLIST

synopsis: after destroying her hair, billie turns to you, her fiancé, in hopes of you being able to fix it.

genre: fluff

pairing: cosmetologist fem!reader x billie eilish

wc: 10.8k

warnings: slight cussing

authors note: i know y’all see how long this is, if there is any spelling mistakes or continuity errors ignore it, i was up for 2 days. enjoy x 💋

the hair salon is quiet now, the hum of blow dryers and chatter replaced by a peaceful stillness. the sunset pours through the large glass window, casting a golden haze over everything it touches. soft amber and pink rays stretch across the polished floors, catching on stray hair strands and scattering delicate reflections off the mirrors and the chrome edges of styling chairs. shadows of tall ferns and succulents perched on the counter sway gently, their movements dappled by the fading light. the air still carries the faint traces of shampoo and hairspray, mingling with the rich warmth of the evening, as if the room itself is exhaling, releasing the weight of the day into the tender embrace of the setting sun.

your last client had left over an hour ago, leaving you with just enough time to clean up and dream of how good your bed will feel once you finally sink into it. now, in the corner of the room, you’re sitting under the hooded dryer—not because you need it, but because it’s your favorite chair in your booth. its worn leather hugs your body, offering a secluded cocoon, perfect for resting after a long day of standing.

you lazily scroll through your phone, the cool screen contrasting with the slight ache in your hands. you tap open the messages app, clicking the second most recent contact—it pulls up your fiancé’s profile, her name sitting at the top in bold letters.

you: almost done, cleaning up and i’m omw home. 💗

a small smile tugs at your lips as you glance at the text, thumb hovering before tapping the blue arrow to send it. you’re about to switch over to instagram when the soft creak of the front door opening cuts through the silence.

your eyebrows knit together, your smile fading into a frown as confusion prickles at the edges of your mind. instinctively, your eyes flick toward the entrance, words already forming on your tongue, ready to tell whoever it is to leave and come back tomorrow.

but then, there she is.

billie stands in the doorway, framed by the last lingering rays of sunlight that sneak through the glass. she’s wearing her oversized tour zip-up, her name stitched neatly on the chest. the royal blue thread contrasts sharply with the heavy yellow fabric, the colors a loud declaration against the soft, muted tones of the salon. her thumb grazes her bottom lip, the tip of her nail caught lightly between her teeth as she crosses her ankles.

the lanyard of her car keys hangs outside the pocket of her sweats, a bold red and black that sways slightly as she shifts her weight. the key fob itself is tucked away neatly, hidden. her star beanie is tugged low over her head, barely peeking out beneath the hood of her sweatshirt, which is pulled up and cinched just enough to hide all of her hair.

“hey, baby,” she says, her voice syrupy, dripping with a softness that only she could manage. the corners of her lips press together in a tight, almost apologetic smile, but there’s a flicker of amusement there—a twitch of mischief that she just can’t seem to hide.

her wide, doe-like eyes dart toward you, then quickly away, like a child caught red-handed. guilt and playfulness swim together in her gaze, her cheeks tinged faintly pink. she bites her bottom lip, the expression teetering between sweet and sheepish, her fingers fidgeting at the hem of her hoodie as though it’ll keep her hands from giving her away.

it’s the kind of look that says: i know i messed up, but come on—you can’t really stay mad at me, can you?

you straighten in your seat, eyes narrowing as you take in her stance, her tone, her very presence in a place she knows she shouldn’t be after hours.

“what did you do?” you ask, your voice sharp with suspicion but softened by the ghost of a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“okay, so please don’t be mad,” she says, stepping further inside, her voice carrying that sugary lilt she always uses when she knows she’s done something questionable. her fingers clasp loosely together at first, but then they start to fidget, her thumbs tracing uneven circles over each other—slow, deliberate, and trembling. the motion falters, sometimes smooth, other times jerky, betraying the nervous energy humming beneath her calm façade. with each rotation, her thumbs press a little harder, as if the movement alone could ground her spiraling thoughts. even when her hands shift positions, the circling doesn’t stop, the weight of her tension held in that small, silent gesture.

“billie,” you warn, your tone light but firm, enough to let her know you’re not in the mood for whatever nonsense she’s about to throw your way.

her feet shuffle as she moves quickly across the room, closing the gap between you with a hurried urgency. before you can say another word, she’s on her knees in front of you, her hands reaching to cradle your own. the cool press of her engagement ring brushes against your skin—a sharp but gentle reminder of the promises you’ve both made, the weight of forever between you.

“first of all, i love you,” she whispers, her voice careful, the words wrapped in precision as she tilts her head up to meet your gaze. her expression teeters on the edge of vulnerability, her wide blue eyes swimming with a confession she’s not quite ready to say aloud.

your eyes narrow as suspicion prickles up your spine. “billie.” the repetition of her name carries a sharper edge now, though it’s softened by the flicker of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“and second…” her voice trails off as she reaches for her hood. slowly, she pulls it down, followed by the star-patterned beanie covering her head. when her hair finally comes into view, the mess of it hits you like a freight train.

your jaw drops. the usual cascade of silky brown strands is now a disaster—a patchy, uneven palette of brassy yellows, burnt orange streaks, and sections so dark they seem almost untouched. the back looks half-finished, with random tufts sticking out like stubborn weeds refusing to blend.

in shock, you reach out, your fingers lightly grazing her damp hair before cupping her jaw to turn her head from side to side. the light from the window catches the chaotic patches, making the disaster even more glaring. your brows knit together as disbelief bubbles out in a soft, incredulous laugh.

“billie. what the hell is this?” you finally manage, your tone caught between amusement and horror.

she winces, the sheepish grin on her face growing wider. “i tried to do it myself,” she admits, her voice a hurried tumble of words. before you can respond, she’s already jumping to defend herself. “it was a box dye, okay? it looked so easy, but it wasn’t. now it’s a hot ass mess. save me, please.” her hands clasp together, fingers intertwining as she looks up at you with a desperate, pleading expression.

you groan, the ache in your feet from the long day suddenly feeling heavier. “of course, you would try to dye your hair at home,” you mutter, leaning back in your chair. your eyes scan the spotless, freshly cleaned station you’d been so close to leaving behind.

“but billie, i just cleaned everything,” you complain, dragging the words out with a soft groan.

“i’ll buy you dinner,” she interrupts quickly, her lips curving into a hopeful smile.

your eyebrow arches, unimpressed. “you buy me dinner all the time. you’re gonna have to try harder than that.”

without missing a beat, she grabs your right hand—the one adorned with the diamond ring she gave you—and presses a kiss to your palm. the warmth of her lips lingers as she trails kisses upward, along your wrist, the sensation leaving a soft buzz in its wake.

“and dessert,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your wrist before working their way up your arm. her kisses grow slower, more deliberate, each one sending shivers racing down your spine.

“i’ll get you anything you want,” she whispers as her mouth grazes the curve of your neck, her words melting into the skin there.

your resolve wavers, her lips trailing a path of heat along the sweet spot of your neck until she finally stops, pulling back just enough to hover inches from your face. her thumb rubs soothing circles along the back of your hand, her eyes wide and shimmering as they lock onto yours. “baby, just please help me fix this,” she pleads, her voice soft and breathless.

you sigh, your gaze trailing over her disheveled form. she’s on her knees, hair an absolute wreck, begging you to fix it with promises of whatever you want. the vulnerability in her voice tugs at you, her cute, flushed face making it nearly impossible to say no.

“fine,” you relent, passing her your phone. the tension in her shoulders melts as she exhales a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. slipping your phone into her pocket, she stands, her fingers brushing against yours as you lead her to the salon chair.

“thank you so much,” she whispers, her voice soft as she peppers kisses over your knuckles. her lips are warm, reverent, each touch delicate and lingering, like a silent apology.

you grab the back of the sleek black chair, spinning it around so billie can face the large vanity mirror. the gold and white accent jibbitz on your black crocs catch the light as your foot pumps the chair’s pedal, raising it to your height.

the soft buzz of the hvac fills the quiet salon, mingling with the faint sounds of a reality tv show playing faintly in the background. you move toward the cabinet, the cool metal handle pressing against your fingers as you open it to retrieve what you need.

you gather the essentials—sectioning clips, brushes, bowls, dye bottles in various shades of blue, shampoo, and conditioner—all of it placed into a plastic tub. setting it on the counter in front of billie, you grab a cape and apron from the nearby rack, the fabric smooth and familiar against your fingers.

slipping the apron over your head, you tie it behind your back before draping the cape over billie’s shoulders. the velcro tabs fasten snugly around her neck, securing her for what you both know will be a long evening ahead.

billie digs into the pocket of her sweatpants, pulling out her phone with the lazy precision of someone buying time. her fingers swipe absently across the screen, scrolling through apps and notifications, but her focus drifts as you step behind her. instinctively, her head tilts back, her damp, tangled strands crumpling slightly against your stomach. the warmth of her resting there is an unspoken intimacy, one that almost softens your irritation—almost.

“did you at least put vaseline on your edges like i told you to?” you ask, already knowing the answer but holding onto a sliver of hope.

her scrolling halts. there’s a pregnant pause as she processes your question, her eyes darting to the side in the way they always do when she’s been caught. she sucks in a breath, her teeth grazing her bottom lip as she stares anywhere but at you, as if the walls themselves might save her.

“billie,” you whine, dragging her name out as your eyes instinctively roll toward the ceiling.

reaching for your hand on her shoulder, she turns her head just enough to press a quick, placating kiss against your knuckles. “i’m sorry,” she murmurs, her lips curving into that small, crooked smile designed to melt you.

“now when you start turning colors, i don’t wanna hear it,” you shoot back, exasperated. “how many times do i have to tell you to put some kind of protectant on your skin?” your voice lilts into an exaggerated dramatization because, without it, she’d never listen.

“i know, baby,” she coos, her tone dripping with faux contrition, and you can’t decide if you want to kiss her or strangle her.

with a heavy sigh, you let your fingers trail through her hair, the strands coarse and uneven as you assess the damage. the texture of her missteps lies in your hands, and though it’s a disaster, it’s a familiar one.

you exhale slowly, grounding yourself for what’s ahead. “okay, let’s see what we’re working with.” gently, you sift through her hair, pulling at a patch near the crown.

“girl…” you say, drawing the word out, “…what the fuck is this?” holding the brassy streak up for her to see, you tilt her head toward the mirror.

“i think that’s where i started,” she admits, her grin a sheepish curve that wavers as her eyes meet yours in the glass.

you shake your head in disbelief, spinning her chair so she’s facing you now. “do you know what that means?”

her brow arches in a silent question, waiting for your inevitable proclamation.

grabbing her hand, you guide her toward the shampoo bowl. the porcelain is cool against her neck as you ease her into position, your touch firm but gentle. your fingers cradle the base of her neck, their warmth grounding her as you lift her hair into the bowl.

“it means deep conditioning. lots of it,” you declare, the finality in your tone leaving no room for debate. “you better make peace with the dryer cap at home because it’s about to be your best friend.”

she groans, the sound low and dramatic, but she doesn’t argue. her resignation is written in the soft slouch of her shoulders as you step away, the sound of your footsteps echoing lightly in the quiet salon.

at your station, you grab what you need—a clarifying shampoo, a paddle brush, and a bottle of conditioner that promises miracles. your fingers graze the cool metal of the sink knobs as you return, twisting them to find the right temperature.

you test the water first, letting it pool in your palm before flicking a few drops toward billie’s face.

“hey!” she yelps, her head jerking slightly as she blinks up at you, mock offense written all over her face.

“what was that for?” she blinks rapidly, her blue eyes wide with mock betrayal, mouth slightly agape as if the water had shocked her soul awake.

“that’s because some people think it’s okay to be hardheaded and ruin their hair,” you retort, your tone sharp yet laced with teasing sass, the kind she secretly adores.

you grin, a mischievous edge tugging at the corners of your lips as you lean over her. “alexa,” you call out to the speaker perched in the corner, “resume my music.”

the soft strains of r&b flow through the air, warm and rich, filling the space between you. the song’s melody wraps around you both, threading its way into the moment as your fingers move to her hair.

“you better thank me for this later,” you tease, a hint of fondness creeping into your voice despite yourself.

her lips curl into a small smile, her eyes fluttering shut as you begin to work, the rhythm of the music syncing with the gentle movements of your hands.

you reach for the sprayer, its chrome gleaming under the soft light, and begin to rinse her hair. warm water cascades over her scalp in soothing waves, like liquid velvet flowing through each strand. the gentle pressure massages away the chaos of the day, and you can feel her body melt a little further into the chair.

leaning over her, your movements are both skilled and tender, the natural grace of someone who has done this a hundred times before but still finds joy in the ritual. you grab the red paddle brush, its bristles catching the light like a promise of transformation, and begin working through her damp hair. the knots resist at first, but the brush glides through with practiced ease, pulling softly, releasing each tangle like it’s freeing her from some invisible weight.

casting the brush aside, you reach for the clarifying shampoo. “this’ll strip as much of the box dye out as possible,” you explain, your voice a gentle melody against the background hum of water. “after that, i’ll tone it to fix the brassiness.”

the bottle makes a soft squelch as you squeeze a pearlescent glob into your palm, its silky texture catching the light. the faint, floral scent rises, intertwining with something sweet and clean, filling the air between you. rubbing your hands together, the shampoo blooms into a rich lather, and you hum softly along to the music as you work it into her hair.

your hands move with precision, starting at her roots. the pads of your fingers glide over her scalp, your acrylic nails grazing just enough to send a shiver down her spine. then you press a little harder, your movements circular and deliberate, coaxing the stubborn dye out while soothing her with each motion. the faint jangle of your bracelets punctuates the rhythm of your work, the charms clinking softly as you rub small, methodical circles along her forehead, her baby hairs curling as water meets skin.

at the nape of her neck, your pinkies trace gentle arcs, ensuring no dye lingers where her hair meets her skin. the suds build, thick and creamy, clinging to her strands like clouds ready to drift away.

you’re lost in the focus of your task until you feel her gaze on you, steady and soft, like she’s committing every detail to memory. glancing down, you meet her blue eyes, their depth catching you off guard.

“you okay?” you whisper, your voice low and warm, the question carrying more than just concern—it holds affection, reassurance.

her tattooed hand slips out from under the cape, inked angels adorning her skin as her thumb brushes against your forearm. her touch is light but insistent, pulling you closer until your arms rest against the sink’s edge, caging her in. her head tilts slightly, her smile soft and content as she hums a quiet acknowledgment.

you feel the weight of her trust in that moment, her complete surrender as her body relaxes under your hands. each movement of your fingers, each stroke through her hair, feels like an unspoken promise: i’ve got you. let me take care of this.

“i’m sorry. for real,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, but the sincerity in it wraps around you like a warm embrace.

you pause, your fingers still tangled in her hair, your brows furrowing. “for what, baby?”

her lips press into a pout, their natural blush deepened by her vulnerability. “for messing up. i didn’t want to make you have to work again, but… i panicked.” her free hand finds your thigh, resting there gently as if to anchor herself in the moment.

“oh, do not apologize, my love,” you reassure her, resuming the slow, soothing massage of her scalp. “it’s my job to fix these kinds of things. besides, i like doing your hair. i was just fussing to fuss, okay? it’s okay to make mistakes—especially when you’ve got me to help you out.”

you lean in closer, your voice softening as your fingers thread through her hair, combing through the strands with care. “you know i’d do this for you any day, right? so don’t worry about it. just sit back, relax, and let me work my magic.”

a small hum of contentment escapes her lips as she nods, her pout still evident. you lean down, closing the space between you, and press a soft kiss to her lips. her lashes flutter against your cheeks, her lips parting slightly as she tastes the faint mix of her mint chapstick and your strawberry gloss mingling together.

her hands find your back, tugging gently as if she can’t quite get enough of your closeness. a quiet laugh escapes you, light and airy, as you pull back, planting one last peck before returning to your work.

turning the water back on, you tilt the sprayer toward the base of her scalp, the warm stream washing away the thick suds. swirling ribbons of old dye and shampoo trail down the bowl, the colors melding into a soft pastel kaleidoscope before vanishing down the drain. the water flows smoothly through your fingers, its warmth lingering as you work through her hair, strand by strand, washing away every trace of her mistake.

and in the quiet intimacy of the moment, the rhythm of your work and the softness of her gaze make everything else fade away.

her eyes flutter closed, a soft breath escaping her lips as she melts into the sensation of your hands moving with steady intent. you cradle her head gently, guiding the stream of water with care, ensuring no spot is left untouched. your free hand parts the damp strands, fingers slipping through them like silk as you coax out the stubborn dye that clings to the ends, reluctant to let go.

as the water runs, the colors begin to bleed away, the once cloudy liquid shifting to clear, signaling the start of something fresh, something new. your nails graze softly against her scalp, soothing and purposeful, like a gentle caress that lingers, making sure every trace of dye is gone. the motion becomes rhythmic, almost hypnotic, and you can’t help but smile at the way billie’s body relaxes, her posture softening under your touch.

“see? all clean,” you murmur, your voice a gentle whisper, comforting and warm as you turn off the sprayer. the water runs from your hands like the last traces of tension, and you brush a damp strand of hair from her cheek with the same tenderness.

once the water runs clear, you set the sprayer aside, your fingers still lingering in her hair, smoothing through the damp strands as they fall into place. with practiced grace, you gather the hair in your palms, squeezing gently to coax out the excess water. the droplets fall softly into the basin, their rhythm steady and soothing, like the quiet pulse of a heartbeat. your hands move with an almost reverent precision, mindful not to tug, only wringing out enough water to keep the hair from dripping too much.

you extend your arm toward the counter, reaching for a fresh, warm black towel that rests nearby. the heat still clings to it from the dryer, and as you drape it over billie’s head, you cup your hands around it, tucking the edges securely. you press the towel softly against her scalp, the warmth radiating through the fabric, soaking up the last of the moisture, comforting her like a quiet embrace.

“there,” you say, a smile pulling at your lips as you step back for a moment, surveying the work. “all rinsed and wrapped up. ready for the next step, love?”

with a gentle nod, she follows you back over to the chair, her presence still relaxed, her smile a soft echo of the comfort you’ve given. you walk over to the coffee table, grabbing the remote and handing it to her as you turn her away from the mirror. she flips through the categories, her fingers tracing the screen as you move to the black bar, retrieving your supplies from the black tub and setting them on the counter in their familiar, ordered arrangement.

the first bottle to emerge is the black dye, cool and smooth in your hand, its cap unscrewing with a satisfying twist. you squeeze a measured amount into a mixing bowl, the thick, inky substance pooling at the bottom with a weight that feels satisfying, as if it holds all the potential for the transformation ahead. next, the developer, creamy and faintly metallic, pours in a controlled stream, the contrast between the jet-black dye and the pale developer stark, almost artistic, like night meeting day.

grabbing your dye brush, you begin to stir with slow, deliberate movements, folding the two substances together. the black streaks through the white, at first marbled and uneven, then gradually blending into a glossy, midnight-colored cream. you lean in closer, making sure the mixture is smooth, scraping the sides of the bowl with the brush to gather every last drop of product.

next, you grab the smaller bowls for the blue dyes, each one its own vibrant hue. you pour the colors in, no need for developer, knowing these are semi-permanents, their vibrancy untouched by the need for mixing. the blues swirl together, each one vivid and intense, and you can feel the excitement building—ready to blend them with the deep, dark base.

the rhythm of the mixing is calming, a ritual you know by heart, each movement of your brush a practiced, soothing motion. the anticipation swells in your chest as you prepare to bring together the perfect blend for billie’s hair.

when the dyes are perfectly mixed, you turn back to billie, positioning yourself behind her once more. you shake the towel before gently unraveling it from her head, the fabric slipping off her hair with a soft rustle. her hair—now long and wavy—falls freely, cascading in fluid, graceful waves over her shoulders like liquid midnight. you take in the beauty of the moment, before reaching for your parting comb. you move with practiced ease, carefully dividing her hair into six sections, the comb gliding smoothly through each strand, as if the strands themselves are eager to fall into place.

you begin by clipping the top half of her hair, then sectioning the lower half into two parts, ensuring that the color will apply evenly, without hesitation. the clips snap into place with precision, each movement deliberate. slipping your gloves on, you start applying the dye to the roots, your hands steady and deliberate. the dye meets her scalp, each brushstroke a quiet promise, ensuring that every strand is perfectly coated. the comb moves through effortlessly with each section, your touch confident and fluid. billie can feel you behind her, though she can’t see what you’re doing. yet, there’s a trust that hangs between you, a deep and unspoken understanding that makes your heart swell with quiet affection.

“you’re so good at this,” billie murmurs, her voice low and admiring, watching as the color sinks in effortlessly.

“you can’t even see what i’m doing, babe,” you chuckle softly, setting the bowl of dye down. you lean over, placing your elbows on the chair as you spin it, bringing her face to the mirror so she can watch your every move.

“okay, but i know you, and i know you’re good at what you do. i swear, i’m never doing my own hair again.”

her compliment lingers in the air, a sweet echo, and you smile as you pick up the bowl once more, moving behind her with a sense of purpose. billie flinches slightly as the cold dye touches her scalp, but you smooth it out with gentle strokes, your acrylics gliding through her hair, the sensation soft and calming. you focus entirely on the application, taking your time to make sure each section is perfect. “it takes years to perfect,” you whisper, as the color settles into her strands, dark and even.

the tv show hums softly in the background, but you’re not really paying attention to it. billie’s eyes flicker between you and the mirror, her gaze never straying far from your hands, which move with precision and care.

“are you excited for the tour?” you ask, keeping the conversation flowing, your voice a steady current as your hands continue their work.

billie nods slowly, the slightest furrow of concern crossing her brow. “yeah, but… it’s also nerve-wracking. i mean, i haven’t toured in a while, so i’m a little anxious.”

you glance at her, surprised. “why are you nervous, baby?”

your hands pause, the brush hovering mid-stroke as you meet her gaze in the mirror. her eyes dart away, a subtle shrug rolling through her shoulders, hidden beneath the cape. “i don’t know,” she admits softly, her voice carrying a faint edge of vulnerability. “i guess… i’m worried people won’t connect with the new stuff, or that i’ll mess up. it’s been a while, you know?”

you set the brush down in the bowl, wiping your hands on a nearby towel, then moving to stand beside her. one hand rests gently on her shoulder, your fingers grazing the curve of her collarbone, your thumb moving in slow, reassuring circles against the fabric of her shirt. “billie, you’re amazing,” you say, your voice warm, but firm. “you’ve got nothing to prove to anyone. you’ve worked so hard on this, and i know it’s going to blow people away. plus,” you add with a playful smile, “if anyone’s got the nerve to doubt you, i’ll just have to handle it.”

she meets your gaze in the mirror, her eyes softening, a small, grateful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “thanks,” she whispers. “it helps hearing that from you.”

you kiss the top of her head lightly, mindful of the dye, before stepping back to your place behind her. “anytime, love,” you say, picking up the brush again. “now hold still—i’m almost done.”

as you finish applying the dye, billie’s expression softens, her earlier tension slowly giving way to a quiet sense of ease. the warmth of her trust fills the room, wrapping around both of you, and for a moment, the low murmur of the tv fades into the background, leaving only the sound of the brush smoothing through her hair, each stroke a quiet act of care.

“what’d you wanna eat?” she asks, breaking the silence, her voice light.

“um…” you pause briefly, considering. “it’s whatever you want.”

she rolls her eyes, a playful glint lighting her expression. “you always say that,” she teases, her tone affectionate but laced with knowing. “but then when i pick, you’ll complain about it.”

you chuckle softly, setting the brush down and giving her hair a final once-over to make sure the dye is even. “that’s not true,” you counter, your grin betraying your words. “okay, maybe sometimes. but i promise, i won’t complain this time.”

she tilts her head slightly, her eyes flicking up to meet yours in the mirror, a smirk tugging at her lips. “mmhmm. so if i say vegan sushi, you won’t pull that face you always do?”

“no…?” you trail off, narrowing your eyes playfully.

“if you say so,” she laughs, leaning back in the chair, her shoulders relaxing at last. she pulls out her phone, the light from the screen flickering against her face as she pulls up the website to order food.

you grab your comb once more, your hand settling gently on the back of her head, tilting it slightly so you can part the back. the metal end of the comb glides smoothly through the mid to low portions of her hair, creating an even part with ease. gathering the spare hair in your hand, you bend slightly, reaching for a clip and securing it with careful precision.

turning back to your station, you pick up the light blue dye, starting to apply it about three inches down from the roots. the color glides on with a vibrant pop against the black, a striking contrast that’s already beginning to take shape. you feather the dye carefully, blending it seamlessly into the black, creating a smooth, ombre transition. billie’s hair is thick, and you take your time, moving with quiet intention, combing through each section to ensure the colors blend perfectly. with gloved fingers, you work the dye into her hair, making sure it’s just right, the blues flowing into the black in perfect harmony. you repeat the process with the other two shades of blue, each one vibrant, intense, creating a masterpiece of color with every stroke.

the atmosphere is calm now, the warm glow of the lights spilling across the polished surfaces, casting soft reflections that shimmer like a quiet symphony. every little moment between you two seems to stretch longer, the air thick with the deepening connection, the space between your souls growing closer with each passing second. you finish the blue ombré, your hands steady as you apply the final touches, then grab a plastic cap, gently placing it over billie’s head to let the dyes process. the room is silent, save for the low hum of the tv and the rhythm of your breathing, until a knock on the door breaks the peace.

you remove your gloves with a practiced motion and make your way to the door, finding a delivery man holding a bag labeled “take out.” with a soft smile, you reach into your back pocket, pulling out ten dollars for his tip, exchanging it for the food as you offer a quiet thank you. the door closes behind you, the warmth of the room welcoming you back in.

you retreat back inside, removing the black cape from billie’s shoulders, followed by your apron, tossing them carelessly into a corner, the fabric settling like memories discarded in haste. crouching down, you sit cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table, billie mirroring your movement beside you. you open the boxes of the chinese takeout, the aroma instantly filling the air—soy sauce, garlic, and something sweet and tangy all blending together, making your stomach rumble in eager anticipation.

the fluffy carpet beneath you contrasts against the cool, smooth hardwood of the salon, the softness of it grounding you in the moment. you open the boxes slowly, careful to not spill any of the steaming food. inside, the noodles glisten, their texture tender and inviting. the spring rolls are crispy, their golden brown crusts promising a satisfying crunch, and the stir-fried veggies glisten, coated in a savory sheen, the light catching each vibrant color like jewels in the dim room.

handing billie a pair of chopsticks, you take your own, your fingers easily finding their grip. you dive into the food, the two of you settling into a rhythm—eating, talking, and occasionally laughing at the little moments between bites.

“this is so much better than sushi,” you joke, nudging her lightly with your knee as you twirl some lo mein onto your chopsticks.

billie rolls her eyes, grinning. “you’re lucky i was in the mood for chinese. otherwise, you’d be starving right now.”

you laugh, taking another bite. the savory flavors burst across your tongue, comforting and satisfying, grounding you in the simplicity of the moment. “guess i owe you one, huh?”

billie raises an eyebrow, a playful glint lighting her eyes. “oh, you definitely do. next time, i’m picking. no arguments.”

“i told you to pick, but deal.” you say around a mouthful of food, earning a mock look of disapproval from her, but you both laugh, the sound of it rich and warm, like music in the quiet room.

the tv continues to play softly in the background, but neither of you are truly paying attention, too lost in your easy banter, too caught up in the gentle rhythm of being together. every so often, you catch her stealing a glance at you—her expression soft, her gaze full of unspoken things—and your heart swells with something quiet and content. you can’t help but smile back, the warmth in your chest blooming as if it’s something you’ve known all along.

as you twirl the noodles onto your chopsticks, the sharp bite of a voice from the tv slices through the air, pulling both of you from the comfortable rhythm you’d settled into.

“you know what? i don’t need this energy from fake ass bitch like you of all people!” a woman yells, her tone dripping with venom, and you both freeze mid-bite. the camera cuts to her, hurling a drink across the room, the liquid splashing like a violent cascade as gasps rise from the background.

“ohhh shit.” you gasp out, sounding like a toddler on the verge of telling on someone.

“wait, what the fuck jus’ happened?” billie asks, sitting up straighter, chopsticks suspended in the air like a moment frozen in time.

you squint at the screen, fingers reaching for the remote to turn the volume up, the faint hum of the tv now louder in your ears. “hold on—what’re we watching right now?”

billie shakes her head, a laugh bubbling out as she points to the screen. “i don’t know, but that was—did she just—was that a margarita?!”

“oh yea, most definitely,” you confirm, a grin tugging at your lips as you set your box of food down on the coffee table, the subtle thud of it breaking the silence. “who even does that?”

“apparently her,” billie says, gesturing to the woman storming off-screen, her heels clicking sharply against the floor like a declaration of finality.

you both watch, eyes wide, as the scene cuts to a confessional, the same woman ranting with a voice full of venom. “she thinks she can talk about me behind my back? please. i’m not the one with a cheating ass boyfriend.”

simultaneously, you and billie gasp, grabbing onto one another in shock at the confession, and then burst into laughter. the sound of it warm and effortless, a shared joy.

“oh my god,” billie says, leaning back onto her hands, her eyes dancing with amusement. “she’s so real. i kind of love it.”

you nod, picking up another spring roll, letting its crisp warmth settle in your hand as you sink deeper into the moment. “you’re so messy. like, look at you encouraging violence,” you tease, giving a light kiss of your teeth as you shake your head.

the two of you continue watching, caught in a tangled mix of laughter and genuine debate, the absurdity of the show now grounding the conversation. billie leans in closer, her chopsticks tapping absently against the edge of her box, the sound soft but rhythmic.

“okay, but listen,” she says, her voice animated, a new layer of thoughtfulness pulling at her tone, “i get why she’s mad, but did she have to throw the drink? i’m not gonna lie, that’s just embarrassing for her.”

“nah, i don’t know,” you counter, your voice playful but threaded with a hint of consideration. “if someone called me a fake ass bitch on camera, i’d probably snap too. but maybe i’d throw something less sticky.”

“like what?”

“water? a smoothie? i don’t know—something that doesn’t smell like tequila,” you answer with a smirk, the edge of your voice soft and teasing.

billie laughs, shaking her head with mock exasperation. “remind me never to cross you.”

you nudge her playfully with your knee, the motion light and easy. “just don’t talk shit, and we’ll be fine.”

by the time the episode ends, both of your food containers are empty, the remnants of your meal scattered across the coffee table like the final traces of a good time. you’re fully invested now, the show pulling you in deeper with every outrageous twist. you glance at billie, eyes flicking to the next episode’s preview, torn between indulging in another round or letting the dye process take center stage. billie grabs the remote, already clicking through, her focus sharpening as the screen changes, the night stretching on.

“one more,” she says, her eyes glinting with mischief, a sly smile curling at the corners of her lips. “just to see if they make up. we have time, right?”

“definitely,” you agree, but you get up from your place on the floor, your fingers lightly tapping her knee as you stand. “but we do need to get this dye out of your hair, so come on.” you move toward the corner, pulling her cape from the pile where you had tossed it earlier, and she follows you, reluctant but amused.

“fine,” billie grumbles, dragging her feet in mock protest as she moves toward the wash bowl. “but if i miss something, it’s your fault.”

you laugh, shaking your head, the sound light and free. “girl…you’ll survive. besides, you don’t want to leave the dye in too long. trust me, it’s not cute.”

billie settles into the chair with a long sigh, tilting her head back into the basin, the soft curve of her neck exposed in the dim light. “you’re the expert,” she says, teasing but soft, her trust in you woven into the words.

“damn right,” you reply, pulling the wet cap from her head, the colors leaving faint imprints on the plastic before you discard it, the faint hiss of it hitting the trash can like a small exhale. slipping on a fresh pair of gloves, you turn on the water, testing the temperature against your wrist before letting it cascade over her hair, the black and blue dyes swirling together in a quiet, colorful dance. the stream flows over her scalp, soft but persistent, coaxing a small hum of contentment from her, and you smile to yourself, pleased by the soothing rhythm.

“feel good?” you ask, your fingers gently massaging her scalp as you check to make sure all the dye is rinsed away, the soft friction of your touch making her relax even more.

“so good,” she murmurs, her eyes closed now, her body sinking further into the chair as the warmth of the water works its magic.

you can’t help but admire the way the rich black fades into the striking blue, the ombré already catching the light in delicate flashes, as if the colors themselves are in conversation. once the water runs clear, you turn it off and reach for a towel, gently squeezing out the excess water from her hair, your hands careful but purposeful.

“hold still,” you whisper, wrapping the warm towel snugly around her head. she lets out a soft sigh as the heat seeps into her scalp, the tension melting from her, her lips curling into a small, content smile.

“you really spoil me, you know that?” she says, her voice soft but sincere, the words a gentle confession.

“someone’s gotta keep you in line, besides if not me then who?” you tease, helping her rise from the chair, your fingers brushing lightly over her arm as you lead her back to the station. you turn around, your mind already shifting to the next step, reaching into your closet for the next set of tools—heat protectant, blow dryer, round brush, scissors, leave-in conditioner, straightener, parting comb, and clips, all free of dye.

you place your items on the countertop, moving with practiced ease as you quickly dispose of the dying supplies, along with your gloves, and dumping the bowls into the sink with a quiet clink! you grab the bottle of leave-in conditioner, squeezing a generous dollop into your palm. the creamy product is cool against your skin as you rub your hands together, warming it up before stepping behind billie. your fingers slip gently through the damp strands, working the conditioner in from roots to ends. her hair feels soft, pliable, and just slick enough as the product absorbs, and you take your time, your movements slow and deliberate, each touch soothing, grounding, and tender.

“gotta make sure this stays healthy after all that dye,” you murmur, the words soft, half to yourself, half to her, as your hands glide over her hair in slow, steady strokes. your nails graze her scalp occasionally, sending soft tingles down her spine, a delicate reminder of the connection between you.

once the conditioner is evenly applied, you plug in the blow dryer and straightener, the soft hum of the machines filling the space as they heat up. your hand rests lightly on her shoulder, a quiet comfort. “alright, let’s get this dried and looking perfect,” you say, your voice low as you grab the blow dryer and a large round brush.

the warm air begins to flow, a gentle wave of heat that seeps into her scalp, contrasting with the coolness of the conditioner. you work methodically, sectioning her hair, rolling it around the brush with a careful precision. each pull of the dryer tightens the strands, smoothing them, while the brush’s bristles tug gently, almost coaxing her hair into submission. the heat locks in the shine, giving it a soft, glossy finish, and your movements are rhythmic, like a quiet dance—the steady hum of the blow dryer blending with your occasional quiet remarks about the netflix show still playing on the screen.

for her, the process is a symphony of sensations—gentle tension from the brush, the comforting warmth of the dryer’s air, and the soothing, skilled touch of hands that know her hair better than anyone else. each stroke of the brush feels like a small act of love, a silent promise wrapped in care, leaving her hair light, fluffy, and full of life, as if it’s been reborn under your hands.

once the hair is dry, you set the dryer down with a soft click and pick up the flat iron, adjusting the temperature with a practiced flick of your wrist. “okay, babe, i need you to be absolutely still,” you say with a grin, wagging the iron lightly in the mirror so she can see that you’re serious. you section her hair once more, your hands steady, not wanting to risk burning her, knowing how delicate the process is.

you spray the heat protectant over her hair, the thick mist settling over the strands, a silent shield against the heat. then, with a steady hand, the flat iron glides through each section, releasing a soft, sizzling sound, like a whispered promise. the heat smooths the strands into sleek perfection, each pass making her hair feel even silkier, even smoother. she can feel the warmth of the iron passing through her hair, not too hot but just enough to make her scalp feel cozy, like a gentle caress. with every pass, her hair becomes more unreal to the touch, soft and straight, as though it belongs to someone else, someone who knows exactly how to treat it.

as you finish, you run your hands over the newly straightened hair, letting the strands slip between your fingers like liquid silk, smooth and soft. “there we go,” you murmur, stepping back to admire your work, the faint shimmer of the pretty blue peeking out from beneath the jet black hair, catching the light in the most subtle way.

your fiancé tilts her head slightly to get a better look at her sleek hair in the mirror, and you grab your shears and a fine-tooth comb, the tools gliding through your hands with ease. “let’s add a little shape, yeah? just some light layers to bring it all together,” you say, your voice warm and reassuring, a soft promise of perfection.

sectioning the hair again with clips, your movements are fluid, practiced—each step a dance of familiarity. picking up a strand, you comb it straight, the fine-tooth comb catching the light with every pass before snipping carefully. the soft snick of the scissors echoes in the space, each cut precise, deliberate. the loose pieces of hair fall away like delicate threads, spiraling softly to the floor, almost weightless in their descent. your touch is gentle, yet purposeful, your head tilting slightly as you examine the angle of each layer, making sure it’s exactly right.

the r&b music playing softly in the background shifts, slowing down to something older, smoother, soulful. without thinking, you start whisper-singing along, your voice low, raspy but sweet, a sound that carries the tune effortlessly as you work. “oh my gosh, this is my song,” you murmur with a small smile, not stopping your quiet singing even as you shift your position to trim the next section, your hands steady and sure.

billie watches you in the mirror, her gaze fixed on you, captivated by the way you hum and move in sync with the music. your lips form the words to a song that feels like comfort, like nostalgia, a piece of your soul woven into each note. it’s intimate—your voice barely audible over the sound of the scissors snipping, but the harmony of it all feels like a private concert just for her, the world outside fading away.

when the cutting is done, you set the scissors down with a soft click and reach for the flat iron again, the familiar weight of it in your hands grounding you. “now to finish it off,” you say softly, your voice still laced with the quiet energy of the song. as the flat iron glides through the freshly trimmed layers, you move slower, almost mesmerized by the way the hair falls perfectly into place, each strand a work of art under your touch. the song plays on, and you hum the last verse under your breath, your hand following the rhythm as you smooth out the ends with expert care, the warmth of the iron leaving the hair sleek, as smooth as your voice.

once the final section is done, you spray a fine mist of finishing spray, the light scent filling the air as it locks everything in place, giving her hair that glossy, healthy shine. stepping back with a soft smile, you run your comb through her silky layers, the strands gliding effortlessly, almost weightless. “there. perfectly layered, silky smooth, and bone straight,” you murmur, brushing a few stray strands away from her face, your fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “what do you think?”

billie turns her head slowly from side to side, inspecting the smooth jet-black color that bleeds into a bright, vibrant blue at the back, the contrast stunning against the sleek, rich darkness. she smiles, her eyes lighting up, a quiet satisfaction dancing in her gaze. “wow. you really pulled it off. i look… amazing.”

grinning, you wipe your hands on a towel, the soft fabric absorbing the last of the dampness. “i told you i could fix it.” pride blooms in your chest, warm and content. your fingers reach for the back of her neck, gently undoing the velcro tabs, removing the cape with a practiced motion, shaking off any excess hair that clings to the fabric. as you lean her body back in the chair, billie tilts her neck, her eyes locking with yours. a soft, playful smile forms on her lips as she puckers them, her gaze full of quiet affection. a small giggle escapes you, and you meet her in a tender kiss, your lips lingering, a momentary pause where everything else fades.

a sleepy smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she whispers between kisses, her voice soft and sincere, “thank you.”

“always. i’m not gonna let you walk around looking crazy, you know that.” you plant a soft kiss to her forehead, the warmth of your lips lingering for just a beat before you gently guide her to a chair, where she can relax while you finish up.

moving around the salon, you begin to clean up your station, tidying the space where you’ve spent the last several hours. the air hums with the low, steady sound of the television playing in the background, switching from the show you’d been watching earlier to a late-night talk show filled with random jokes and light chatter. billie sits in the corner, her eyes still sparkling as she admires her hair, now glowing softly under the warm, inviting lights of the salon. she pulls out her phone, capturing a few pictures of her new look, turning her head from side to side, caught in awe of the transformation.

as billie scrolls through her pictures, you wipe down the counter, returning your tools to their places with careful precision. but you can’t help but notice the subtle shift in her energy. her usual spark, that lively brightness, seems to dim as she leans back in the chair, her eyelids fluttering as exhaustion starts to settle in. the day has been long, and you can see it catching up with her.

with a soft, knowing smile, you hurry to finish the last of the cleaning—sweeping the floor, wiping down the counters, making everything neat. each motion is quick, purposeful. you want to get billie home, tucked in, where she can unwind after the whirlwind of the day. the thought of resting together, of the quiet comfort of home, fills you with a quiet urgency.

when you finish, you grab the remote, clicking off the tv with a soft sound, followed by the gentle hum of the alexa, music fading into silence. you gather your things from the rack behind the door, zipping up your jacket, slinging your purse over your shoulder. you walk over to where billie is softly dozing in the corner, and with careful fingers, you reach into her pocket, fishing out her car keys and your phone. her body stirs as she feels your light touch, but she remains blissfully unaware.

lifting her hand gently, you help her up. “come on, let’s get you home.” you turn off all the lights, the soft click of switches echoing in the quiet space, before locking the door behind you. the cool night air of LA greets you as you step outside. with a press of the key fob, the porsche unlocks, and you slide into the driver’s seat, feeling the weight of the day settle into your bones. billie slips into the passenger seat beside you, curling up in her spot, her head leaning against the window. the car roars to life with the press of the ignition, and you begin the drive home, the rhythm of the road steady and comforting as billie’s eyelids grow heavier with every passing moment.

the drive back is peaceful. the soft hum of the car engine creates a gentle lullaby, accompanied by the occasional sound of tires gliding over the smooth asphalt. the streetlights flicker in rhythmic succession, casting brief, golden glows that sweep over the streets in the night’s embrace.

your gaze drifts over to billie every now and then, catching glimpses of her peacefully dozing off, her features relaxed in the quiet of the car. the streetlights spill through the windows, bathing her face in a soft, warm glow that makes her look even more serene. it’s a perfect, tranquil moment, and your heart swells with a quiet affection. she looks so at peace, safe and calm, wrapped in the comfort of the night.

the car slows to a gentle stop as you approach a red light. the warm glow from the traffic light washes over billie’s face, painting her delicate features in a soft, crimson hue.

a smile tugs at your lips, tender and full of love, as you glance at her once more. billie’s lashes flutter softly, stirring ever so slightly, but she doesn’t wake. your hand moves away from the wheel, fingers grazing across her cheek before cupping her jaw. she leans into your touch instinctively, a quiet sigh escaping her lips. the connection feels like a fleeting, yet eternal, moment, a promise of care and warmth.

as the light turns green, you pull your hand back, placing it gently on the steering wheel. you continue the drive home, the rhythmic flicker of streetlights through the windows adding to the serenity of the moment. billie stays curled in her seat beside you, her soft breaths the only sound accompanying the steady hum of the car.

as the familiar sight of your shared home comes into view, you ease the car into the garage, the low rumble of the engine settling into stillness. putting the car in park, you turn it off, nudging billie softly as she stirs awake, her eyes blinking open slowly. you reach for your keys, her hand slipping into yours as you unlock the door to the house. the quiet of the night surrounds you as you lead her inside, slipping your shoes off before guiding her to your bedroom.

once inside, you cross into the adjoining bathroom. billie leans gently against the doorframe, watching as you crouch down, rummaging through the cabinets beneath the sink. you pull out two shower caps, the simple task feeling comforting in the stillness of the moment. you place hers on her head, tucking each strand of her black and blue hair under it with careful hands. then you repeat the process for your own hair, your movements slow and deliberate. once the caps are securely in place, you turn on the shower, adjusting the temperature to the perfect warmth.

turning back to her, you both begin shedding your clothes, each piece falling softly to the floor like whispered secrets. the air is thick with warmth and steam, and as you step into the shower together, the water cascades down in soothing rivulets, wrapping you both in its embrace. billie leans against the cool tiled wall, letting the steam unwind her body, and you quickly wash yourself, the soft sound of water splashing around you almost meditative.

“you okay over there?” you ask, your voice low, careful not to break the peaceful silence between you. you glance over at billie, her eyes barely open, her face softened in the steam.

without a word, she steps behind you, her warmth pressing against your back as she rests her head in the crook of your neck. the dewy droplets from the shower roll onto her skin, adding a shimmer to her closeness as she wraps her arms around your waist. her thumbs draw light, absentminded circles on your skin, the motion gentle and soothing.

the water flows steadily over both of you, its warmth sinking into your muscles, loosening any lingering tension. billie’s embrace is a gentle weight, her body leaning into yours as if trying to melt into you completely. you tilt your head slightly, allowing her to settle more comfortably in the curve of your neck. in that moment, everything else fades away—the world outside the shower, the thoughts swirling in your mind—all that’s left is the quiet intimacy between you, like a soft blanket wrapping you both in its warmth.

“you’re gonna fall asleep like this,” you whisper, though there’s no reprimand in your voice—only tender amusement, the rhythm of your breaths matching hers.

billie hums softly in response, her voice muffled against your damp skin, “can’t help it. you’re too comfy.”

your lips twitch into a smile, a soft sigh escaping you as you reach for her rag on the side. you grab the body wash next, squeezing it onto the cloth, and then rubbing it together, watching as the lather builds. the air fills with the fresh scent of citrus, mingling with the warmth of vanilla, a fragrance that blends perfectly with the steamy space around you.

“come here,” you murmur, your voice soft, as you gently turn her so her back faces you. your hands begin at her shoulders, moving in slow, deliberate motions, the soap spreading across her skin like silk, tracing the curves of her swirl tattoo as it slides down her back. each touch of your fingers against her skin sends a wave of relaxation through her muscles, the tension unwinding as you move down her arms, then back to her spine. the steady rhythm of your movements is mirrored by the soft patter of water on the tiled floor, the sound like a quiet lullaby that wraps around you both.

“you’re spoiling me,” billie murmurs, her voice soft, almost lost beneath the sound of the water.

“always,” you reply with a quiet laugh, your hands trailing down to her sides, making sure not to miss a single inch of her skin, your touch tender and precise.

turning her back to face you, her half-lidded eyes meet yours for a brief moment before fluttering closed, surrendering to the warmth and intimacy of the moment. you begin washing her front, your touch light, like a feather brushing against her collarbone, down her shoulders, and across her arms. she exhales softly as your hands dip lower, brushing against her stomach, her body swaying gently as the warmth of the water and your care lull her deeper into relaxation.

“all done,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the water, guiding her under the spray to rinse away the suds. your hands move with care, ensuring that every trace of soap is gone, leaving only the warmth and comfort of the moment lingering between you.

you place a hand on her back, your palm gently meeting the light droplets still clinging to her skin, the soft scratch of your acrylic nails trailing across her damp flesh as you lean in to turn off the tap. the water’s rhythmic trickle fades into the background, and with a fluid motion, you slide open the glass door, stepping out into the steamy air. reaching for the towels hanging nearby, you wrap one around each of you, the plush fabric absorbing the last of the warmth from your skin. you remove your shower caps, stepping onto the soft mat, her damp body leaning into you as you guide her back toward the bedroom.

once there, you grab two band tees, one for you and one for billie, slipping them on as you moisturize your skin, the cool scent of lavender and vanilla mingling with the steam still lingering in the air.

you help billie into her pajamas with slow, careful movements, making sure every action is deliberate, your touch gentle as you rub lotion into her arms and legs. the scent of the lotion fills the space between you, wrapping around you both like a comforting embrace.

“i hope you know this is going into your girlfriend tax,” you say, your voice light and playful as you massage lotion into billie’s hand.

“don’t you mean wife?” a smirk dances across her lips, her hand pulling you lightly by the waist, her engagement ring catching the soft light from the bedroom as she tugs you closer. a small giggle escapes you, a sweet reminder of what’s to come. you reach behind you, taking her hand from your hip and guiding her over to the vanity.

you pull out the stool for her to sit, your fingers grazing her shoulder as you remove her shower cap, the remnants of water flinging away with the movement. grabbing a comb from the table, you part her hair carefully, your fingers soft and deliberate as you begin to weave two french braids. the light taps of rain against the windows add a soothing rhythm to the quiet room, the sound merging with the gentle flow of your touch, easing billie further into relaxation.

when you’re done, you reach into the drawer, pulling out a silky brown scarf. you open it with a delicate flick of your fingers, folding it into a neat triangle. aligning the longer side with her forehead, you tie it gently, making sure the knot is firm enough to stay in place, but soft enough to not cause discomfort. it rests just so, a quiet gesture of care before the night settles in around you both.

billie scrambles to your bed, her movements quick as she throws herself under the duvet with a soft sigh, sinking into the softness like she’s finally found her place. you shake your head softly, smiling to yourself as you grab a scarf, pulling it over your hair with the same practiced care. you make your way over to the bed, the quiet click of the lamp turning off filling the space before you slide in next to her. the weight of the day seems to lift in the darkened room, the only sound the gentle tap of rain against the windows.

reaching into your bedside drawer, you slip off your ring, placing it carefully in its box, the cool touch of the metal against your skin a reminder of the bond you share. you stretch your hand back toward billie, palm facing up, and she mirrors the gesture. the coolness of the .48-carat diamond meets your touch as she slides her ring into your hand. you place both rings in their box, closing the drawer softly, the faint sound of the wood settling a quiet punctuation to the moment.

billie drapes her arm over your torso, pulling you closer, her warmth seeping into your skin as your limbs tangle together, two bodies finding comfort in one another. your thumbs trace soft, lazy patterns on her arm, the motion slow and deliberate, a silent promise of peace. she buries her face in the crook of your neck, her breath warm against your skin.

outside, the rain continues its melodic tapping, the rhythm a lullaby as billie’s breathing slows. her body relaxes completely, her embrace a cocoon that shields you from the world.

as she drifts off to sleep, you press a soft kiss to her palm, the touch tender, a quiet act of love. your own eyes grow heavy as the night wraps itself around you both, cocooning you in its warmth. the sound of the rain serenades you into dreams, its rhythm guiding you to sleep, where you rest together, the world fading away.

astrc’s tag list: @zendayasredbottoms @bilsdillldough @billiesrighthand ; hit my asks saying “add to taglist” if you want to be on my regular taglist for all billie content!

#billie eilish x reader #billie eilish #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #billie eilish gf #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x black girl #billie eilish smut #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x female reader

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23victoria · 7 months ago

Text

34 + 35

pairings: 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗋𝖼 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

warnings: 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 (𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗉 𝗂𝗍), 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍

authors note: 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗋𝖼 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗁𝗆𝗆! 𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇....𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁! 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄, 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌, 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽!! 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒!! 🤍

𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌?! CLICK HERE

1k celebration f1 masterlist

The sun peeks through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the bedroom as you begin to stir. The smell of something delicious wafts through the air, pulling you from your slumber. You stretch, the soft sheets rustling around you, and that's when you see Charles standing in the doorway, a tray in his hands and a loving smile on his face.

"Good morning, baby," he says, his voice filled with affection.

You sit up, propping yourself on the pillows as he brings the tray to you. It's a delightful spread of fresh fruit, fluffy pancakes, scrambled eggs, and crispy bacon, accompanied by a steaming cup of coffee and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

"Charles, this looks amazing!" you exclaim, touched by the effort he's put into making your morning special.

He sets the tray on your lap and leans in to kiss your forehead. "Only the best for you," he says, his eyes sparkling with love. "I wanted to start our anniversary weekend off right."

As you take a bite of the pancakes, savoring the sweet syrup, he sits on the edge of the bed, watching you with a look of adoration. "You have until tonight to pack your essentials," he says casually.

You pause, fork halfway to your mouth. "Pack my essentials? What do you mean?"

He grins, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I already had your BFF buy you stuff and pack everything you might need. Your job is just to relax and get ready."

You're shocked, a mixture of excitement and curiosity bubbling up inside you. "Where are we going?" you ask, your voice filled with anticipation.

You stare at him, speechless. "Wait. Charles! My hair, my nails... nothing is done. Are you serious?"

"It's a surprise," he says with a wink. "But don't worry about a thing. I've scheduled a whole day of pampering for you. Your hair, nails, everything—it's all taken care of."

He laughs, leaning in to kiss you softly. "That's what you're doing today. Just relax and enjoy yourself. I've got everything planned."

After breakfast, you get ready for your day of pampering. You’re still buzzing with excitement and curiosity about the surprise trip. Charles gives you one last kiss before you head out the door, his parting words making you smile. "Enjoy your day, baby. You deserve it."

Your first stop is a high-end salon downtown, where you're greeted by friendly staff who seem to know exactly who you are. "Welcome! We've been expecting you," the receptionist says with a warm smile.

You're ushered into a private room where your stylist awaits. She’s bubbly and professional, and she wastes no time in discussing what you’d like for your hair. After a brief consultation, you decide on a style that's elegant yet easy to manage, perfect for a surprise trip.

As she works, you relax, letting the tension melt away. The stylist is skilled, her hands working magic on your hair. She gives you a deep conditioning treatment, a trim, and styles your hair into soft, cascading waves that frame your face beautifully.

Next, you’re led to the nail section, where you choose a chic chrome white French tip with tiny jewels for a touch of glamour. The nail technician is meticulous, ensuring each nail is perfect. The process is soothing, and you find yourself chatting with her, the time passing quickly.

Once your nails are done, you move on to a luxurious facial. The esthetician is gentle, applying various creams and masks that rejuvenate your skin, leaving it glowing and refreshed. You close your eyes, letting the serene environment and soft music lull you into a state of complete relaxation.

By the time you’re finished, you feel like a new person. Your hair looks stunning, your nails are impeccable, and your skin feels silky smooth. As you step out of the salon, you can’t help but admire your reflection in the glass door. Charles is going to love this, you think to yourself with a smile.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Charles picks you up outside the salon, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. "Wow, you look incredible," he says, pulling you in for a kiss. "How was your day?"

"It was amazing," you reply, your heart swelling with gratitude. "Thank you so much for everything. But I'm still dying to know where we're going."

He laughs, a low, rumbling sound that makes your heart flutter. "All in good time, baby."

He drives you to the airport, the anticipation building with each passing mile. When you arrive, he parks and leads you inside, his hand warm and reassuring in yours. As you walk through the bustling terminal, you can’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves.

"Charles, seriously, where are we going?" you ask again, hoping he’ll give you a hint.

He just smiles, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You'll see soon enough. Trust me."

You board a private plane, a luxury you hadn't expected. The interior is plush and comfortable, with soft leather seats and elegant décor. As you settle in, a stewardess offers you a drink, and you accept a glass of champagne, the bubbles tickling your nose as you take a sip.

Charles sits beside you, his hand resting on your thigh. "I arranged for dinner to be served once we're in the air," he says, his voice low and intimate. "I thought it would be nice to enjoy a meal together while we fly."

You look at him, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude. "You're so cute," you say, leaning in to kiss him. "I love you. I'm so excited but also a little nervous."

He smiles, his eyes filled with warmth. "I love you too. And there's no need to be nervous. Everything is going to be perfect."

The plane takes off smoothly, and soon you’re soaring above the clouds. The stewardess brings out dinner—a beautifully arranged spread of gourmet dishes. There's a succulent filet mignon, a delicate salmon fillet, roasted vegetables, and a variety of decadent desserts.

As you dine, you and Charles talk about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing easily between you. The food is delicious, each bite a new sensation of flavor and texture. You feel completely spoiled, each moment more perfect than the last.

"You're really pulling out all the stops," you say, taking a sip of your champagne. "This is like a dream."

He reaches across the table, taking your hand in his. "You deserve nothing but the best," he says softly. "I wanted to make this anniversary unforgettable."

You smile, squeezing his hand. "It already is. But I can't help but wonder—where are we going?"

He chuckles, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your hand. "Patience, baby. You'll know soon enough."

After dinner, you both recline your seats, the plane dimming its lights for the evening. You snuggle close to Charles, his arm wrapped around you as you gaze out at the stars twinkling outside the window.

"I can't wait to see what you have planned," you whisper, your voice filled with excitement.

He kisses your forehead, his lips soft and warm against your skin. "It's going to be amazing," he promises. "I can't wait to share it with you."

As the plane continues its journey, you close your eyes, feeling completely content. The anticipation of the surprise destination fills you with a sense of adventure and wonder. With Charles by your side, you know that whatever awaits you will be perfect.

Several hours later, the plane begins its descent. You wake up, feeling refreshed and curious about where you are. Charles looks at you, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

"We're almost there," he says, his voice filled with anticipation.

You look out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of your destination. The landscape below is beautiful, lush and green with hints of water sparkling in the distance. As the plane touches down, you feel a rush of excitement.

Once you’ve landed, Charles helps you gather your things, and you step off the plane into the warm, balmy air. The scenery is breathtaking—palm trees swaying gently in the breeze, the ocean stretching out to the horizon, and the sky painted with the colors of the setting sun.

“Charles, this is incredible,” you say, your eyes wide with wonder. “Where are we?”

He takes your hand, leading you towards a waiting car. “Welcome to Thailand,” he says with a grin. “Our home for the next week.”

You gasp, your heart racing with excitement. “Thailand? Are you serious?”

He nods, his eyes sparkling with delight. “I thought it would be the perfect place to celebrate our anniversary.”

You throw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, Charles. This is the best surprise ever.”

He kisses you, his lips warm and loving against yours. “Anything for you, baby. Now, let’s get settled in. We have an amazing week ahead of us.”

As you drive towards your hotel, the excitement and anticipation build within you. You can’t wait to see what other surprises Charles has in store. With him by your side, you know this trip will be nothing short of magical.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

As you make your way to the candle-lit dinner he meticulously planned, the soft glow of lanterns and the soothing sound of the waves set the perfect ambiance. The setting is picturesque—a secluded beach with a table adorned with flowers, candles flickering gently in the evening breeze, and the scent of the ocean filling the air.

Charles, ever the gentleman, pulls out your chair, his eyes never leaving yours. He looks dashing in a crisp white shirt that contrasts beautifully with his tanned skin, his hair slightly tousled by the wind. You can’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness he’s put into this evening.

As you sit down, a waiter appears with a bottle of your favorite wine. Charles pours it for you, the liquid shimmering in the candlelight. You clink glasses, and he raises his, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“To us,” he says, his voice deep and sincere. “To three amazing years and many more to come.”

You smile, feeling a rush of warmth and affection. “To us,” you echo, taking a sip of the wine.

The first course arrives—a delicate seafood platter with fresh oysters, shrimp, and lobster, all beautifully presented. You savor each bite, the flavors bursting on your tongue. Charles watches you, his eyes dark with a mix of love and desire.

“This is amazing,” you say, your voice filled with genuine appreciation. “You really outdid yourself.”

He reaches across the table, taking your hand in his. “Only the best for you,” he replies, his thumb gently caressing your skin.

The conversation flows effortlessly as you enjoy the meal. You talk about your favorite memories from the past three years, laughing and reminiscing about the adventures you’ve shared. Charles is attentive, hanging on your every word, his gaze never wavering from your face.

The main course is a sumptuous Thai curry, rich and aromatic, with just the right amount of spice. You both savor the complex flavors, occasionally feeding each other bites. The intimacy of the moment is palpable, the connection between you deepening with each shared taste.

As the meal draws to a close, the waiter brings out a decadent dessert—mango sticky rice, perfectly sweet and fragrant. Charles takes a bite, then leans over to kiss you, his lips tasting of mango and coconut.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice husky.

“I love you too,” you whisper back, your heart swelling with emotion.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

After dinner, you and Charles walk back to your hotel, hand in hand. The night is warm, the air filled with the scent of jasmine and the distant sound of music from a nearby festival. When you reach your room, he opens the door with a flourish, revealing a scene straight out of a fairy tale. The room is dimly lit, with rose petals scattered across the bed and soft music playing in the background.

Charles pulls you close, his hands resting on your hips. “I have one more surprise for you,” he says, his breath warm against your ear.

You raise an eyebrow, curious and excited. “Oh? And what might that be?”

He smiles, a slow, sensual smile that sends shivers down your spine. “Why don’t you sit down and find out?”

You sit on the edge of the bed, watching as he moves to the small table in the corner. He lights a few more candles, their soft glow adding to the romantic atmosphere. Then he turns back to you, his eyes dark and smoldering.

He walks over to you, his movements graceful and deliberate. When he reaches you, he kneels down, his hands sliding up your legs to rest on your thighs. “You look beautiful tonight,” he says, his voice low and filled with desire.

Your breath catches in your throat as he leans in, his lips brushing against your skin. He starts at your ankle, kissing his way up your leg, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body. By the time he reaches your inner thigh, you’re already aching with need.

“Charles,” you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with love and lust. “Just relax,” he murmurs. “Let me take care of you.”

You lean back, propping yourself up on your elbows as he continues his slow, sensual exploration. His hands are gentle but firm as they slide up your dress, pushing the fabric aside to reveal your bare skin. When his lips finally reach your core, you can’t help but moan, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

He takes his time, his tongue teasing and tasting you with a skill that leaves you breathless. Each flick and swirl sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, building higher and higher until you’re on the edge of ecstasy. You grip the sheets, your knuckles white as you hold on, the sensations overwhelming.

“Charles, I’m so close,” you gasp, your body trembling with need.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark and intense. “Come for me,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel you come.”

His words send you over the edge, your body arching as the orgasm crashes over you. You cry out his name, your vision going white with pleasure. Charles doesn’t stop, his tongue still moving against you, prolonging your release until you’re shaking with aftershocks.

When you finally come down, he looks up at you, his lips glistening. “You taste amazing,” he says, his voice husky.

You pull him up to you, kissing him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips. “Your turn,” you whisper, a wicked smile playing on your lips.

You push Charles onto his back, your hands moving to unbutton his shirt. He watches you, his eyes filled with anticipation and desire. When you finally have his shirt off, you trail kisses down his chest, your tongue flicking out to taste his skin. He groans, his hands tangling in your hair as you make your way lower.

When you reach the waistband of his pants, you look up at him, your eyes dark with desire. “I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel,” you say, your voice low and sultry.

He swallows hard, his eyes never leaving yours. “You always do,” he replies, his voice rough with need.

You smile, your fingers deftly undoing his belt and sliding his pants down. When he’s finally bare before you, you take a moment to admire him, your eyes drinking in every inch of his body.

Then you lean down, your lips wrapping around him, your tongue teasing the sensitive head. He groans, his hips bucking as you take him deeper, your mouth moving up and down his length with practiced ease. You can feel him trembling beneath you, his hands gripping the sheets as he tries to hold on.

“God, you’re so good at that,” he gasps, his voice strained.

You hum in response, the vibration sending shivers through his body. You take him deeper, your hand moving to stroke the base as your mouth works its magic. He’s close, you can feel it, his body tensing as he nears the edge.

Just as he’s about to come, you pull back, a wicked smile on your lips. He looks at you, his eyes filled with desperation and desire. “Please,” he begs, his voice rough. “I need you.”

You climb onto the bed, straddling his hips as you align yourself with him. “Not yet,” you murmur, your voice low and teasing. “I want to ride you first.”

You sink down onto him, both of you gasping at the sensation. You start to move, your hips rocking back and forth as you take him deep inside you. The pleasure is intense, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy through your body. Charles watches you, his eyes dark with desire, his hands gripping your hips as you ride him.

“You look so hot,” he groans, his voice filled with awe. “God, I love watching you like this.”

You smile, your movements quickening as you feel the pleasure building. “I love it too,” you gasp, your body trembling with need.

Just as you’re about to come, Charles flips you over, pinning you beneath him. He thrusts into you hard and fast, his hands gripping your thighs as he drives you both towards release. The pleasure is overwhelming, each thrust sending you higher and higher until you’re on the edge of ecstasy.

“You want me to get you pregnant?” he growls, his voice rough with desire.

“Yes,” you moan, your body arching beneath him. “Yes, Charles, I want it so much.”

He thrusts into you one final time, both of you crying out as you come together. The sensation is intense, your body shaking with the force of your release. When it finally subsides, you collapse against the bed, your body spent and satisfied.

Charles pulls out of you gently, his movements careful and tender. He reaches for a warm rag, cleaning you up with a soft touch. “You were amazing,” he murmurs, his voice filled with love and admiration.

You smile, your heart swelling with affection. “So were you,” you reply, your voice soft.

He finishes cleaning you up, then scoops you into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom. When you see the rose petals and warm water waiting, you can’t help but smile. “You really thought of everything,” you say, your voice filled with wonder.

Charles sets you down gently into the bath, the warm water enveloping your tired muscles and soothing your skin. The scent of the rose petals fills the air, adding to the romantic atmosphere. He slips in behind you, pulling you close so your back rests against his chest. His arms wrap around you, holding you securely.

You both sigh in contentment, the warm water and intimate setting creating a perfect moment of peace and relaxation. Charles nuzzles your neck, placing soft kisses along your shoulder.

“This was perfect,” you murmur, leaning back into him.

He tightens his hold on you slightly, his lips brushing your ear. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he whispers. “I wanted tonight to be special for you.”

You turn your head slightly, meeting his gaze. “It was more than special. It was unforgettable.”

He smiles, his eyes filled with love. “I love you,” he says softly.

“I love you too,” you reply, your heart swelling with emotion.

You rest in the bath together, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment. Charles’s hands gently caress your skin, his touch soothing and comforting. You close your eyes, letting yourself relax completely in his embrace.

taglist: @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @yoncesgroove @exotic-iris13 @magicpractically @eoduuung @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @avengers-assemble123456 @oIn4 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips

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animeafro · 7 days ago

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mha boys x black! reader :3

HOW MHA BOYS WOULD INTERACT WITH YOUR NATURAL HAIR

ꕥ summary: all of the mha boys are (presumably) unfamiliar with black hair, so i thought it'd be fun to headcanon their behavior with a partner who has natural hair!

ꕥ includes: izuku midoriya, shouto todoroki, eijirou kirishima, denki kaminari, katsuki bakugo

ꕥ warnings: slight nsfw for bakugo and kaminari, otherwise just fluff :)

Izuku:

Is curious about your hair but doesn't wanna ask too many questions for fear of sounding disrespectful, so he conducts his own “research project” by spending hours on YouTube watching natural hair creators and learning how your hair is cared for

He takes notes on the different hair types, determines which kind yours must be, and curates his remaining research based on that

Randomly shows up one day with a bunch of expensive natural hair products that he thinks might work for you since you often complain about how hard your hair is to maintain and how you don’t wanna invest in expensive products that may not work for you

Follows you into the bathroom and convinces you to let him do your wash day for you

It takes some guidance from you (the detangling process is not as easy as they made it look in the videos) but he does great!

You're shocked at how well he managed to define your curls. Your hair damn near looks like you went to a curly salon to get it done!

He even learns how to style his own curls in the process! But you both end up preferring his fluffy hair over defined curls.

Shoto:

Doesn’t mention anything about your hair for a while, but secretly wonders about it

When you talk to Momo and Mina about your routine during a conversation about hair care, his ears perk up. He listens intently, but still doesn’t say anything

The next time he comes over, your hair is in braids. “Your hair is different,” he observes. “Do you like it?” you question. “Yeah, you look… gorgeous. How did you do that?”

His curiosity gets the best of him, and the next 10 minutes is a flurry of questions he's been holding himself back from asking. “So why'd you put it in braids? What's a protective style? How long can you keep them in? How do you wash it? Why do you have to put oil in it?” He can't help but be in awe at how different your hair is from his own

Since he’s so interested, you offer to give him a few temporary braids, just for fun. After scrolling Pinterest for a while for inspiration, you both agree on giving him some cornrows on the top of his head

He is incredibly tender headed. He winces every time you pick up a new piece of hair to add into the braid, even though you’re braiding rather loosely

After you’re done you show him in the mirror, and he falls in love with it. “It looks so cool,” he says. “Can you do it again for me tomorrow?” he beams. how could you say no to that face?

Denki:

Loves everything about your natural hair

You always have to swat his hands away because he’s constantly reaching up to play with it, saying it feels so soft like a pillow and it’s not fair for you to keep it all to yourself

When you put your hair in long box braids he’s confused as to how it grew so fast, but he just assumes it’s something that black people can do and doesn’t question it. Maybe it has something to do with that “shrinkage” you’re always complaining about…

When he sees you braiding your hair, he insists that you should do his next. He doesn’t care about how his hair is styled nearly as much as he just likes having his hair played with

Gets hard every time you put on your bonnet

Kirishima:

Tries to convince you to dye it red so that you two can match

Part of your morning routine with him is you both standing in front of the bathroom mirror, him spiking up his hair with ungodly amounts of gel and you working on whatever curly style you’ve chosen for the day

One lazy Saturday, you guys decide it’d be fun to do each other’s hair

Since the gel is available, you decide to try giving him finger waves. His hair is super thick, and on the longer side, so it’s not easy to get the waves right, but eventually you manage to finesse it into a style that looks close enough to finger waves. He won’t know the difference anyway, you think to yourself

Meanwhile, he sculpts your afro into a star shape. He marvels at how your hair can stick up on its own, without any gel. He wishes his hair would do the same so he wouldn’t have to spend so much money on product

When you reveal each other’s hairstyles in the mirror, you both overflow with giggles, admiring one another’s artistic visions

Of course, the session is not complete without a backyard photoshoot!

Bakugo:

Won’t really ask questions but when you’re in the bathroom, styling your hair with the door open, he’s off to the side, observing with bated curiosity (unbeknownst to you)

He’s always careful not to touch or mess up your hair since he knows how much effort you put into it

That’s why he prefers when your hair is in a protective style– because then you let him pull it

He likes to buy you things for your hair– silk scarves, braid jewelry– he even pays attention to when you’re running out of your favorite products and buys refills for you since he knows you always forget

One day he buys you a pair of hair clips with his signature orange & black explosions on them. Gets a good chuckle when he notices that you’ve been wearing them nearly every day, the other hair pieces lying neglected in your cabinet

But why wouldn't you want to rep your man every day?

POST FORMAT CREDIT TO @rumisgf i haven't figured out how to make pretty posts myself yet lol

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auggieblogs · 1 year ago

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Curls in Singapore ₊˚⊹♡

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Author's note: Hello, lovelies. I hope everyone is doing fine. This one shot is inspired by, well, me. Tbt last week in Singapore, when Lando got a haircut and in every picture (that I saw) he had his cap on. So, I just assumed he got a bad haircut and had a whole breakdown about it on the gc.

Singapore was alive with the buzz of the Grand Prix, and Lando Norris was no exception to the excitement. He had been considering getting a haircut for a while now, especially after seeing Carlos and Max, sporting fresh trims. But there was one person whose opinion mattered to him the most – you, his girlfriend.

You adored Lando's curly locks. They were his trademark and you loved running your fingers through his fluffy hair. So, when he broached the subject of getting a haircut, you weren't on board with the idea at all.

"Lando, you can't do it!" you protested, pouting as you clung to him in the hotel room. "Your curls are perfect. Don't let anyone touch them!"

Lando chuckled, cupping your face and gazing into your eyes with all the affection in the world. "Come on, love, it's just a trim. I promise it won't be bad."

Reluctantly, you nodded, but you couldn't hide your pout. "Alright, fine. But if they mess up those locks, you're sleeping on the couch, Norris."

Lando kissed your forehead. "Deal."

Hours passed, and Lando had to rush off to his media duties right after his haircut. He hadn't seen you since he left for the salon, so when he returned to the room wearing his McLaren cap, he was met with your dramatic gasp.

"LANDO NORRIS, YOU RUINED THE BEAUTIFUL CURLS, DIDN'T YOU?" you exclaimed, hands on your hips and an exaggerated frown on your face.

Lando couldn't help but giggle, and he took off his cap, revealing his newly styled hair. As the cap came off, you were greeted by a sight that took your breath away. Lando's hair was not ruined; it was better than before. His curls had been styled beautifully, and he looked, well, pretty. Really pretty.

You couldn't help but gape at him, your eyes wide with astonishment. "Wow," you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "You look amazing."

Lando beamed, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks. He walked closer to you, allowing you to run your fingers through his soft curls. "You really think so?"

You nod fervently, your heart swelling with love. Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "You're so beautiful, Lando."

Lando's smile widened. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "Guess I won't be needing that couch tonight, huh?", he added with a playful grin.

You giggled, your fingers still entwined in his curls. "Nope, guess the couch gets to stay empty tonight!"

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sxmmerberries · 21 days ago

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Hair Salon - kim gyuvin x reader

✦ genre: fluff

✦ pairing: kim gyuvin as your boyfriend

✦ word count: 985

✦ summary: you decided to torture style Gyuvin's hair for him by opening your own hair salon.

“I don't like that look on your face, Miss. Why are you staring at me like that?” Gyuvin asked, noticing that you've been staring at him for quite a long time.

“Nothing,” You replied as you continued to stare at him.

“You're literally staring at me,” Gyuvin deadpanned, still feeling your stare at him.

“No, I am not,” You continued staring at him.

“Yes, you are!” He exclaimed, narrowing his eyes at you in suspicion.

Gyuvin gets even more confused when you suddenly get up from the couch and walk towards the bedroom without a single word. He gets even more confused than before, seeing you walk towards him with a medium-sized box and a few hair brushes in your hand.

“What is all that? What are you doing?” He watched curiously as you unpacked the contents off the box, revealing multiple cute hair clips and rubber bands.

You turn to him with an evil grin on your face making him side eye you and your actions.

“Welcome to Y/N's Hair Salon,” You grinned, pushing him to sit on the couch straight.

“Is that so? Hmm, I haven't heard many great reviews about this salon before,” He joked, sitting up straight to let you work on his hair.

“There aren't any great reviews because you're my first customer,” You began brushing his dark brown hair, making him lean into your touch.

“That isn't very reassuring to hear,” You semi-aggressively brushed his hair after hearing his remarks.

“Okay okay, I am sorry. Please don't make me bald, babe,” He apologized, wincing at the sudden tugs on his hair.

“Don't call the hairstylist ‘babe’, Sir,” He snickers at your remark, amused that you're taking your “job” very seriously.

“Sorry, I will not call the hairstylist ‘babe’ again,” He says with a fake apologetic look.

“What hairstyle would you like today, Sir?” You asked after you finished brushing his hair.

“Hmm, can I get this one?” He asked, pulling out his phone and showing a picture from online. You looked at the photo of a guy with professionally styled hair.

You glared at him and then the picture. You switched the phone off and handed it to him, making him laugh in amusement at your reaction.

“Do I look like Kim Taerae to you?” You gave him an impressed look, making him laugh even harder.

“You can't even do that much? I am going to leave a bad review on this salon,” He said with a fake offended look.

“I'll chop your hair off,” You threatened.

He gasps at your words, pretending to be offended and dramatic, “How dare you. I would like to speak to the manager.”

You pretended to look around for a minute before turning to him, “The manager, Eumpappa, said that she sincerely doesn't care.”

“Of course, she doesn't,” He laughs loudly at your response.

“So what hair am I getting then?” He asked, looking at the variety of clips.

“Apple hair,” You responded, taking a bit of his hair on the top and making a small ponytail.

“Can't I have mango hair?” He pouts as he picks out a few yellow and orange clips.

“Fine, you're the mango, and the ponytail is the leaf then,” You sighed with a fake disappointed look.

You smack his hand away as he tries to touch the ponytail, making him pout in disappointment.

“This is the worst service I've ever gotten,” He crossed his arms across his chest, watching you put the clips all around his head.

He finally sits still and stays quiet as you add the clips to his hair, feeling a bit excited at the fact you’re all done, and he can finally see the hairstyle you chose for him. He is also very curious about what you came up with.

“When will you be doneeeeee?” He whined, itching to get up but doesn't due to the fear of you smacking his head if he moves too much.

“Just a little bit, and I am done!” You put one last orange bow on his ponytail as the finishing touch and hand him his phone for him to see.

He sighs in relief, grabbing the phone from your hand, low-key scared to see what you did to his hair. He watches all the clips and bows on his hair with disbelief after opening his front camera.

“What is this………”

“My masterpiece! Do you like it?!” You looked at him with excitement, waiting for his answer.

“No….I mean yes! Omg, I love looking like a hair accessory store!” He gulped, watching you take some more clips in your hand to threaten him.

“Awww, really? I know you would love it!” He shook his head in disappointment as he sighed.

“And what do I owe you for this awful…I mean awesome hairstyle, Miss Hairstylist,” He watched you with amusement.

“Pictures! Lots of pictures!” You grabbed your phone to take pictures of him, only to find Gyuvin trying to run away in disbelief.

“Remind me to run away immediately when I feel you staring at me for too long the next time!”

You pushed him down on the couch to take the pictures, making him frown like a pouty child. You took a few pictures of the pouty child who later smiled for the pictures, striking a few cute poses, too.

You began packing your accessories in the box again when you felt a hand stop you. You looked up to see Gyuvin with a mischievous look on his face and a hairbrush in his hand.

“Why don't you get a new hairstyle too, babe?” He grinned, making you back away from him.

“No, thank you,” You smiled sheepishly, backing away from him.

“No no, I insist. Please sit down,” He grinned evilly, scheming something in his head as he took the box of accessories from your hand and pushed you down on the couch.

©sxmmerberries

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networks: @kstrucknet @chrimatanet @k-films @starlit-network

gyuvin's hair salon

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dearsonyeondan · 1 year ago

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seven | jeon jungkook

hi anon :3 i hope this scratches a good part to you, i haven't written in a while so it feels good to be able to again. inbox is forever opened when taking requests!

꒰ ꒱ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader [plus size suggestive]

꒰ ꒱ rating: 18+! please proceed responsibly.

꒰ ꒱ word count: 3.2k

꒰ ꒱ warning(s): slow burn into a bit of a quick fall. reader is plus sized and jungkook is obsessed with her thighs. writing these warnings before writing the smut, but expect it to be nasty.

꒰ ꒱ note 4 reader: this is just sinful. fic below keep reading also stream seven, that's the theme < 3!

it was on thursday when heuning kai had pointed out to you that jungkook was on his third visit of the week. you had been working for tomorrow x together since their debut, forming friendships amongst the five members. it was the promotion for their name chapter: temptation comeback and you had been responsible for tending to their makeup and hair for most of their shoots. "i mean, he visits often but he never sticks around to monitor. he hasn't done that in a while," kai whispered to you, smiling and thanking you for finishing his look for his part of the shoot.

you considered what he was saying to be absolute bullshit, convinced that jungkook just wanted to motivate them through the shoot. plus, he had been here for his own scheduling. you cleaned your section in the meantime, using the mirror to sneak glances at the man while he chatted with the stylist. mm.. . the tattoos. you overheard them discussing a possible cut to the hair that had grown to his shoulders. "and what do you think?" zara, one of the other stylists that had come from overseas, asked you. you hadn't even managed to notice that nicole trailed in, discussing with the other stylists about his vision.

jungkook had halted his discussion, turning from the lead stylist and nicole to look in your direction. you decided it was time to stop looking at him through the reflection of the mirror and to face him head on, leaving your station to head to zara's in which he'd been the closest to. "think of what?"

"what's your name?" he asked you, giving no cares about the conversation he had just sparked. you told him your name, a smile on his face with a satisfied. "i'm jungkook, but you can just call me jk if you want."

"and we were discussing you possibly taking the opportunity to be his stylist for his upcoming promotions with seven," zara said.

that's where it started. on the regular, you would step down and allow someone else to assist the lead stylist for tomorrow x together and became the lead stylist for jungkook. you still would work with them full time, but this was an opportunity to upgrade your position in the world of styling. it would look good on your resume. every thursday, you would leave your typical quarters and work with jungkook during his calvin klein promotions.

"keeping the hair long was an amazing job, the camera loves him," one of the editors said as you watched on the sidelines with your makeup kit in your hand. he was right, jungkook had been set on cutting his hair, but you expressed that it looked better with it long.

"i have a different opinion," you said softly, running your fingers through his hair underneath the sink. it was your third thursday working with jungkook and the tension had been high ever since the first meeting.

"are you admitting that you find me attractive?" he asked with a soft grin on his lips, big eyes looking up at you as you ran your fingers across his scalp. "tell me that you don't want me to cut it and i won't." he said softly and a part of you hated that it had just been the two of you in the salon. you could feel the innocent tingle of his fingertips dancing up your thighs, a teasing tongue poking from his lips.

"don't cut it." you smiled, running the faucet over his locks.

"how was that? was that the last take?" jungkook asked, removing the jacket and allowing his upper body to be engulfed in the cold air. another worker on the styling had assisted him with a handheld fan and a bottle of water. you ran the sharp ended comb through his hair, detangling his temporary mess of locks with it. he looked over you and you remained focused, hoping that you'd be able to go home after this.

the director of the shoot had considered it wraps since he had most of the shots that he wanted. heading outside, your phone had pinged as you took a seat on the bench.

zara:

i'm unable to pick you up. got caught in traffic heading back to seoul. so sorry 😢

you sighed, searching through your messages for another friend to pick you up if he had been free from his schedule. you had been granted access to use the private exit and entrance since sasaengs had been at an all time high.

"what are you doing here still?" a voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you realized that it was jungkook.

"oh... a friend of mine isn't able to pick me up anymore," you looked from your phone to see that someone had responded to your cry of help.

"i can take you home. i didn't ride the bike today," he rubbed at the back of his neck, chuckling. you had no thoughts about it -- jungkook was well and capable enough to get you home. you shoved your phone in your pocket and rolled your makeup cart behind you.

"so.. have you eaten anything?" he asked, opening up your passenger door. he grabbed the cart from your hands and popped the trunk to his mercedes, putting the cart inside with ease.

"i had some lunch earlier before arriving the shoot, so i'm not hungry." you said, smiling softly. your stomach had grumbled, causing you to place your hand over it. jungkook snorted, looking over your figure before to his car.

"we can grab something if you want, i'm pretty hungry too." you scanned over his attire and had seen that he had most likely finished getting dressed from the shoot. he wore a sleeveless shirt, hair swiped back with a headband and comfortable sweats. even his tennis shoes looked expensive. you could tell that his hair was a little drenched and figured that since so-hee had come to the shoot today.

"sure, that's fine." you said, smiling and climbing into his car. he closed the door behind you and soon joined you in the driver's seat, starting the car and exiting the private parking garage. the car ride was silent, listening to his curated spotify playlist. you had to admit that most of his choices in music were immaculate, silently adding them to your playlist.

it was about a 25 minute drive when jungkook pulled over to a restauraunt that had been so hidden that he had to point it out to you. the entrance was private and two guards stood over the doors whenever they closed. you had been a bit nervous, under the impression that it would be more than a quick bite to eat.

"i'm not kidnapping you, i promise. i just eat here so often so now they're used to my license plate number," he chuckled. "we can grab it and go."

"no, it's.. fine. i've never been here," you said with a smile, letting out a slow exhale to cool your nerves. "but tell me, jeon," you turned to rest your elbow on the console. "what.. is going on?"

"what do you mean?" he leaned back, leaning his head towards the ceiling. he closed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh only to turn his head to you. "you're bad at taking hints, you know?" he said to you, causing you to freeze and remain silent. "i was camping out with txt for 5 days straight before you even started to notice me."

"i did notice you," you said, blinking your eyes.

"yeah, but did you notice the flowers on your desk this morning? or what about the extra yogurt cup that you like to eat? in the fridge?" he said. he smiled to you and you thought over -- a vase of flowers did end up on your desk yesterday morning and you figured that it had been love from your old crew missing you on thursday's.

"those were... from you?" you asked. he nodded his head and you chuckled.

"we better go in to grab our food. it's getting close to 6 and i have a studio session at 9." he stated, pursing his lips with a soft smile. you had felt a bit bad missing all the chances when he'd come to hang with txt or the flowers on your desk. he turned the car off and soon met you around to open your door for you.

it had been two weeks since that event and that night had never left your mind. how nice he was, paying for both of your meals and walking you inside to help you with your makeup cart. every morning after that, you tried your best to give jungkook as much attention as he had once given you, but you had to be smart about it.

there was small words of affirmation you'd give him during work when fixing his hair or his makeup, causing him to chuckle and return them. it wasn't until two months after that he had asked you to come to his studio session to lend him advice as you had done being his stylist. you arrived much later after the time that he had asked, confirming through text that his producers and team had left and it would be just you two.

it would appear unprofessional to his team for you to arrive during his private schedule. so you requested it to be just like this. you pushed the door open, sliding in with your makeup cart after your shift.

"hey, you made it." he said, getting out of his chair to greet you with a warm hug. he took ahold of your makeup cart and moved it to the corner of his room. "i just got done with the ramen. are you hungry?"

you went to answer and he hesitated. "don't lie to me, either."

"i could eat, yeah," you chuckled, taking a seat at his comfortable couch. jungkook carefully handed you the ramen and there you two would talk over your day. it wasn't until past midnight that jungkook had grown frustrated, slightly removing the headphones and exiting the booth. you looked up from your phone, placing it on the side. "you alright?"

"i'm just hitting a brick wall with the bridge," he slid into the chair and started to type at his computer. you could see him rearranging the tracks, deleting and adding things to it. "i'm fuckin' over it, you wanna go home?"

you sat up straight at the sudden suggestion of leaving, scanning over the room for your makeup cart. "i can go if you need some alone time, absolutely."

you could watch the expression on jungkook's face changed, realizing that you wouldn't actually mind going. he stood up to protest against your actions, grabbing your hand softly and demanding your attention.

"don't leave. that was a dumb suggestion," he smiled and you laughed, placing your hand on your hip. "you look pretty tonight, your lip gloss is.."

you couldn't help but to gulp, standing up straight and looking around the room. "zara bought me a lip gloss for our friendship anniversary so i've been wearing it."

it was almost like he had nothing that you said. "can i kiss you?" he asked, his eyes focused on nothing but your lips. you licked over your bottom lip, taking the chance to glance at his lips. you nodded your head slowly, stabilizing yourself so you wouldn't pass out. you didn't need to, jungkook had already gripped your thighs and admired how thick they felt in the pair of jeans you wore today.

his mouth was soft against yours, hands sliding and gripping at your hips as he took bold steps to get you against the wall. you had been breathless, his mouth moving to leave tender kisses at your jaw. he was gentle in his movements, nudging your chin with his head to get more access so he could suck on your neck. it was impossible to breathe during moments like this, his hand rubbing up your breast to grip your neck.

"you gotta breathe for me baby, or i won't let you," he whispered, sucking your earlobe into his mouth. before you could even comprehend what he just told you, his phone started to vibrate in his pocket. he kissed you one last time, teasing your tongue with his own before pulling from you. "fuck," he said, re-adjusting himself in his pants before stepping out to take the call. you wanted to pretend so bad you didn't see that curve.

you were thankful for the break towards your own self, adjusting your breathing and taking a seat back on the couch. of course, you and jungkook had done nothing but the casual flirting and after your first lunch together, you had noticed that he was persistent in his attraction to you. zara had noticed it first, but you never thought to pay attention to it.

it had been seven weeks since that night in the studio.

nothing had changed .. well, not that drastically. the two of you agreed that it was extremely unprofessional what had gone on during his studio session, noting that there is privacy inside but anyone could've walked in and caught you two. you both had agreed to cease all things for the better of privacy.

"keep talking to me, you know that i love that shit," jungkook grunted against your ear, hands prying your legs open so that he could continue to dig you out solely with the power of his fingers. his free hand teased at your thigh, getting a good feel of it bare. wearing that skirt was a plus. the movie that you two had started up in the background had simply meant nothing. not when you had been on the brink of an orgasm and not when jungkook was hard as rock in his pants. it meant nothing to the sweet moans that he craved to hear, teasing into you before anything. "you're squeezing me so tight baby," he pulled away from sucking the skin at your collarbone. "it's just my fingers." he whispered against your thigh, scissoring his fingers into your heat whilst sucking on the skin.

the movie had still been going on when your phone rang for the second time, jungkook granting you a break while you tended to it. "it's zara, girl i have to tell you the tea about this boy i just went on a date with!" you sighed, wanting to roll your eyes but than remembering that she was to tell you every detail. "zara, it's a bad time right now-"

jungkook had resumed his ministrations to your neck, easing his fingers back into you so that he could grant you a reward. it drove you nuts when he started to hump into you, providing special attention to the hard on that he'd been accompanying for the majority of this makeout session. he had never demanded too much of you, just to feel good and sound pretty for him. he was doing that now, making sure to remain quiet through the disappointed sound of zara's voice. "30 minutes? i can.. i can definitely give you a call back in 30 minutes."

and so it was, your phone flying from your hands onto the couch and back into jungkook's hair as he helped you reached your orgasm. you fiddled around his sweats now, hoping to get a taste of what he'd been withholding from you. "no, maybe another time. i know what i want to do with you, right now."

he climbed from your being and pull his sweats down, calvin klein underwear withholding his hard on. you can tell that he was thick in girth, a curve revealing itself close the tip. you licked over his lips and he chuckled, a breathy request to never give him that look again.

"you're a great klein boy," you said with a chuckle as he grabbed your hands to pull your hands to get you to be on top of him. your panties had still been around your left ankle, but he was impatient.

"and you're my beautiful girl. can you ride me now?" he asked and you blushed. you put your hands on the back of the couch as he rubbed his tip against your entrance. you leaned forward to chew on his earlobe as you sunk down on him, a soft moan filling his ears as he bottomed out in you.

"..fucking.. you'll be the death of me," he whimpered into your breast, biting at your shirt and using his hands to cup your ass. with his strength, he began to lift and drop you, literally bouncing you up and down his thick and curvy dick. you were wet in an instant, creaming if you had been given the chance and full on sucking jungkook's neck.

his head was thrown back against the sofa, eyes rolling to the ceiling as you squeezed him. "so fucking tight, so creamy baby," he praised you, licking stripes at your neck. he massaged your ass with his hands once you started to bounce on his toes, thumb circling a special area before softly plunging in.

"baby, fuck.." you lowered your head on his shoulders, sitting down fully before rocking your hips back and forth. it was insane that the two of you co-existed throughout the week as total strangers and on the seventh day of every week, he'd fuck your brains out. of course there was romance, sneaky kisses in the makeup room when no one had been around and texts of "i miss you's" being exchanged. but nothing compared to the feeling you'd get when hearing the sound of your sofa screech because he'd been dogging you out. nothing compared to how desperate he'd become when trying to get both you and his nut.

the sweet nothings was more than somethings when you orgasmed around him and he filled you up, rocking into you until he softened and was for sure that you'd be full of his cum. it was sinful, the connection that you two had created.

you placed your hands on his chest and caught your breath, continuing to rock your hips with your bottom lip between your teeth. "you wan' some more?" jungkook asked, pulling your top over your body while doing the same to his own clothes. "you don't get enough of me, do you?"

he asked, unclipping your bra with one hand before taking a nipple into his mouth. he had angled his bottom while doing so, thrusting his hips into your heat as though you didn't milk him dry. you were down for the challenge though - the challenge of pure overstimulation and which one of you would be the one to call it quits first.

"want me to clear my schedule tonight for you?" he asked after giving you a quick trip to poundtown. the two of you had been in your bed, cuddled up underneath the covers after a fresh bath.

"you've taken off the past two days. this is usually just a sunday thing." you brought up.

"what if i want this to be more than a sunday thing, hm?" he kissed at your forehead. there was a look in your eyes that he had never seen you give before. "i like spending time with you, outside of the sex. you know you mean more to me than that."

"yeah?" you asked him, placing a kiss over his lips.

"i'd like to be with you seven days out of the week if i could," he said, sliding his mouth over yours. before you know it, you'd been on your back and hands encased in his.

seven days a week didn't sound too bad.

#networkbangtan #bts fic #bts fanfction #bts x chubby reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bangtan #bts smut #jungkook #jeon jungkoooook #i need this so bad

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haikyu-mp4 · 6 months ago

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I want to note that I don't condone Terushima's behaviour around Kiyoko in the series, but everyone has the potential for character development. this is an idea I had for a while but haven't felt motivated enough to start writing<3

Terushima Yuji is an apprentice hair stylist who mostly cleans up hair off the floor and does less-risk haircuts. He works in the hair salon where you, a rich, young woman, come in regularly to get a blowout and have your nails polished.

Terushima used to be quite confident in his tall, lean stature in high school and would use it to his advantage when approaching girls, but now he sought your approval desperately. He wanted you to notice him and to get you whatever you needed. For you to step on him if there was a puddle in the way of your pristine high heels. Never before has a strong woman been so attractive to him.

One day there was a late notice of more hair stylists being sick or busy, so one of the permanent stylists somewhat anxiously tells Terushima that he can totally handle this regular client because it’s just a basic blowout and that he has some creativity when styling it, which is his strong suit anyway.

He bravely takes on the challenge, and even though you're busy checking e-mails on your phone with your pretty nails clacking against the screen, he starts up some conversation and manages to catch your attention. Next time you come in, you request him specifically.

You’re a young CEO and had to take over for your late father much earlier than you should have had to. Definitely thrown into the adult world too quickly to enjoy your twenties in any meaningful way so far.

Maybe you need someone like Terushima to show you what having fun means.

#drabble-mp4 #haikyu #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #fanfiction #haikyuu x you #hq #haikyuu fluff #haikyu fluff #terushima #terushima yuuji #terushima x reader #haikyuu terushima #terushima yūji

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charlottecutepie · 1 year ago

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˚⋆𐙚｡⋆ Married!William Afton x fem!reader headcanons

tags: nsfw, smut, cheating, dry humping, drunk!reader, corruption, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, car sex, doggy style, riding, hand job, age difference, pet names, lil bit of dirty talk?, small daddy kink, kind of manipulator William

Married!William, who has admired you for a very long time. Ever since you came into his life, his mind has been clouded by you. At first you were nothing more but a good friend of his wife, then you became like her second daughter. Clara doted on you, trusted you her kids and even went to the beauty salon with you on weekends.

Married!William, who often gave his wife money for shopping, actually dreamed of giving all those dollars to you. Every time Clara came home with a bunch of bags of new clothes, he was looking forward to seeing what you bought for yourself.

Married!William, who knew that you were younger than his wife. Despite the similarity of your character, your common hobbies and interests, you were very different from Clara in many ways.

Married!William, who was more than glad to see you in his house. Since you often looked after his kids as Clara asked you to. When William was working at home, he'd go downstairs to the kitchen and always pass by the living room where you were playing with Evan and Elizabeth. William would stop, leaning against the wall, holding a mug of his favourite coffee in his hands and look at you, admire you, crave you.

Married!William, who thought you were such a good girl. So kind, always ready to help, so merciful. You easily managed to find common ground with his children, even with Michael. One day, when Clara came home from work very late, and kids had been sleeping in their beds for a long time thanks to you, she couldn't help but hug you and thank you for your care. William chuckled as he noticed how embarrassed you were by his wife's words. Well, he'll definitely take note of it, you like being praised.

Married!William, who loves watching you cook together with his wife. You don't have much baking experience, so your cute face was confused in the process. The way you always asked if you were doing right by adding a certain ingredient to chocolate bread. William was even a little lost, in his head your question “am I doing right” would suit perfectly when your cute hands would be wrapped around his cock.

Married!William, who noticed how perfect his wife's cute little hair clip looked on you, only more enhancing your charm. When did Clara give it to you?

Married!William who's been finding any opportunity to be close to you, touching you when nobody's looking.

Married!William, who was pleasantly surprised to learn that you're not so innocent. One such occasion was a birthday party hosted by his wife at their house, where William caught your eyes on him, studying him, despite the crowd of people surrounding you.

Married!William, who noticed your lips slightly parted as you exhaled a contented sigh. “You're looking awfully handsome right now.” you mumbled softly to him when he approached you as everyone were busy chatting and laughing, their focus shifting away from the two of you.

Married!William, who saw that you were drunk and decided to take advantage of it. You obviously overdid it with alcohol as your vision blurry and your head spin like crazy. It was also very stuffy and hot, or maybe it was just because of William, you didn't knew.

“You need to freshen up, little one.” he offered, carefully taking the glass from your hand. You looked at him questioningly for a moment before you burst out laughing, realizing how tipsy you really were. Before you knew it, he had steered you towards a nearby bathroom, all empty and quiet enough for you two.

Married!William, who watched you from behind, his gaze riveted on the curves of your body, shimmering in the light of the lamps in the bathroom. As soon as the water hit your face, he stepped closer until his chest pressed against your back. “I could fuck you right here.” he whispered, looking at your reflection in the mirror. When you snuggled up to him, William started grinding against you sensually. His bulge pressed harder against your ass when his hands roamed over your body. “Do you want this, doll? Tell me you do.”

Married!William who got you all wet and needy for his cock as he humped against you, holding your jaw so your eyes would never leave mirror reflection. You couldn't help but sink back against him, silently begging for more, your drunk mind couldn't process situation. And William loved every minute of this, finally he got you.

Married!William who came hard in his pants from rubbing himself against you through clothes. His groans in your ear and his hand groping your clothed breasts. He holds you tighly while your drunk head spins and you nearly fall from how hard he ruts his hips into you.

Married!William who fucked you the next day while no one was home. Using your hangover and that you barely remember anything from party night as he pounds you on sofa. You on all fours with your butt up, your moans and gasps filling the empty house as William breathes and groans behind you, thrusting into your little cunt.

Married!William, who stopped the car near the store as his wife went out to “buy something really quick”, leaving you alone with her husband. The moment she disappeared through the door of the store, he decided to take the lead. “She has left us alone for a little while, let's make use of it.” you looked at him hesitantly and he laughed. “C'mon, pretty girl. Don't wanna miss out on this perfect opportunity, do we?”

Married!William, who eats you out on their doubled with Clara bed while she's away. “Such a pretty little cunt,” he groans, using his long rough fingers to spread your delicate folds. Next second his face is stuffed in your pussy and he gently sucks and swirls circles on your sensitive clit. “mhmhm. . .” pretty dangerous situation, considering that his wife should be coming home soon, but oh, he doesn’t care.

Married!William, who tells you that you're many times better than his wife, in absolutely everything, only with you all his dreams and fantasies come true. “My marriage has been a sham for so long. . . with her all I get is indifference while i'm stuck pretending everything is fine just for appearances.” there's a shadow of bitter resentment and contempt on his face, he has you sitting on his lap as his fingers are tucking your hair behind your ear. “You're everything my wife would never be.” and you think a lot about his words.

Married!William, who makes sure that his wife and children are asleep, everyone in their beds, snoring, and Clara didn't even feel William get out of their bed. She was too tired at work to wake up at such noises. He quietly gets dressed and grabs the car keys. He's going to spend the night in your place.

Married!William, who comes to your doorstep with flowers, your favourite ones, and you can't help but laugh shyly when you let him in. God, this man knows a lot about you. Of course, he heard interesting stuff about you from his wife, she even gossiped to him about your exes. William was more than damn glad to know that he's the first man with whom you have such a big age difference, and should he mention he loves this dynamic?

Married!William, who sees that you have prepared for your “little date”, even put on beautiful lace underwear in a delicate lavender colour. Oh fucking god, when was the last time he saw a woman that sexy?

Married!William, who have the most sensual, but at the same time animalistic sex with you, who fucks you like rabbit in all poses and angles. The way you're both hungry for each other. “i can't, i can't,” he groans, his dick is getting hard again after he just fucked you in missionary. “i need to be inside you again, pretty girl, have you cum on my cock again.” as he has you lying wearily on your side from just being fucked, but he doesn't have enough and settles in from behind, rubbing his cock against your throbbing hole. And despite how tired and sleepy you're feeling, you still let him use you and fuck you the way he wants, and you'd damn lie if you'd say you aren't loving every second of it.

Married!William who turned you into a little crying mess. He tears off orgasm after orgasm from you, your eyes crossed, your throat hurts from loud whines and moans, your voice breaks, your sopping cunt is ruined and filled with his seed, however he doesn't plan to stop. “Sensitive girl. . . squeezing me so tight, gonna make me cum again soon, ughh” he murmurs into your lips.

Married!William, who destroyed you and your mind, corrupted you and forced you to play completely by his rules. Yeah, he craved you, but now he's made you crave him back. You couldn't live a day without thoughts about him, he literally forced you to need his touch, words of praise and his cock. He turned you into his desperate girl who always needed to have her pussy well fucked.

Married!William, who cutely talked to his wife as if nothing had happened, sweetly asking her about her work and girl friends, while you clearly saw the subtle indifference in his eyes. When she turned her back on him, continuing to answer questions and talk about her day, William winked at you. Your heart stopped beating. You were ready to howl and cry just to have him touch you, your body needs him, and there's nothing you can do about it.

Married!William, whose wife left into another room for a phone talk and you literally jump on him, kiss him on the lips and don't give a fuck about Clara at all. William doesn't even push you away, but sits on the couch and revels in you, wraps one arm around you and squeezes your ass with the other. In response you groan in his mouth, and Clara can hear it just perfectly, so her voice from other room asks: “hey, Y/n, did you say something?”

Married!William, whose wife doesn't notice your kisses and touches while she's literally next to you, you really must except for William's hand to squeeze your inner thigh or his fingers to rub you through your panties, if Clara doesn't see and busy with something. But you're walking on thin ice and no one knows what'll happen if you break it.

Married!William who lets you touch his cock through his clothes while Clara has her back to you. You perfectly see the huge bulge in his pants and bite your lips in anticipation, already imagining how well it would fill you, as if perfectly sculptured for your cunt. And finally you release his cock from his pants and frantically jerk him off, feeling how tense and madly hard he is. William takes a deep breath and smiles at you, bucks his hips a little and thrusts into your hand. And all this while Clara is very close and can turn to you at any moment, that's risky, but fuck it.

Married!William, who lets you ride him while you're both at the backseat of his car, him talking to his wife on the phone, and you can barely contain your moans cuz he doesn't stop fucking you. You bounce on his cock and pray that it never ends, because no one has ever railed you so well. Your pussy so wet and dripping that it creates absolutely dirty slapping sounds, but William doesn't seem to give a fuck bout it all as he stares at you through his fogged up glasses while blowing kisses to his wife on his phone.

Married!William who's cock twitches inside you as you sob “daddy” in your angelic whiny voice. You immediately reach for a tender kiss as he barely has time to hang up, you move your hips, trying to drive his cock deeper, your walls flutter around his shaft and you whisper “cum inside me, please, please, please” and William loses it, throws the phone far away and grabs you by the waist, fucking you dumb on his dick. He grits his teeth and his jaw clenched as he's being swallowed by warmth and wetness of your cunt.

Married!William, who can't help but groans loudly and finishes inside you, giving you what you want. You cum around his cock, rolling your hips in slow motion, your pussy spasming around him. You press your whole body against him and kiss his neck, leaving small bites and beautiful hickeys as you both dissolve into pleasure.

#william afton smut #fnaf x reader #fnaf william afton #steve raglan x reader #william afton x reader #steve raglan smut #william afton #dilf william #fnaf x y/n #fnaf smut

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makeupartistcoursefar · 2 months ago

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#best mehndi design course in faridabad #best nail extension course in faridabad #advanced hair styling courses #best salon course in faridabad #best hair stylist in faridabad #advanced salon management course

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glowettee · 5 days ago

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how i grew my hair past waist-length + how you can too 𓂃۶ৎ

by mindy @glowettee

hey lovelies! it's mindy,

welcome to another post. today i want to share my journey on how i grew my hair past waist length + some secrets on how you can do it too. growing out your hair can be literally a test of patience, commitment, and self-love – but honestly? it’s so worth it. in this post, i’m going to break down my experiences, tips, and tricks that helped me along the way. it took me 4 years to grow my hair past waist-length, my hair is currently 27 inches long (from the last time measuring it at the salon) it took a lot of maintenance, and my hair is honestly a part of my identify and it's extremely special to me. hopefully this post can help you. remember to do research on YOUR hair type, advice on straight hair won't work for curly, and some advice for curly hair won't work for coily hair, so just make sure to research for your specific hair type. all love from mindy <3

✧ my hair journey: the beginnings ✧

i still remember when my hair was just reaching shoulder length. i was excited to think about growing it out, but i soon learned that longer hair requires a whole new level of care. i realized early on that to gain length, i needed to focus on both cutting out damage and nurturing healthy hair growth. starting with a proper care routine was a game changer for me.

✧ the fundamentals: care + commitment ✧

here are the number one basics that helped me grow my hair way past my waist:

regular trims: while it may seem counterintuitive, getting a trim every 8–12 weeks is key. this may feel like you’re cutting off growth, but removing split ends prevents breakage and keeps the hair looking fresh. honestly? it saved my hair more than once.

deep conditioning: i incorporated a weekly deep conditioning treatment into my routine. choose a product that suits your hair type (yes, even curly/coily or fine hair can benefit amazingly) and leave it on for a solid 20–30 minutes. this extra care helps your hair stay moisturized and resilient.

minimal heat styling: i slowly phased out daily heat use and embraced natural styles. using heat less often has helped reduce damage and keeps the hair stringy and strong.

healthy diet: my outlook changed when i started paying attention to what i was eating. incorporating plenty of protein, vitamins (especially vitamins a, c, and e), and omega fatty acids was literally like feeding my hair the nutrients it needed to thrive. it may also be helpful to take a biotin supplement, but always check with your doctor first.

gentle products: i switched to sulfate-free shampoos and conditioners that gently clean without stripping away natural oils. these gentle formulas help maintain the protective layer on your hair, which is essential for length retention.

✧ managing expectations + routine adjustments ✧

growing your hair isn’t an overnight makeover – it’s a journey. here are some ways that i kept my mindset positive when the process felt slow:

set realistic goals: i mapped out monthly mini-goals (like how many inches i hoped to grow) and celebrated small wins. every bit of progress was a reason to smile!

patience is key: there were days i felt frustrated when my hair didn’t seem to match up with the pics on social media. i reminded myself that everyone’s hair grows at its unique pace, and mistakes are all part of the learning process.

experiment with protective styles: braids, and buns, became my best friends. these styles protect your hair from environmental stressors while keeping it styled in cute and manageable ways.

listen to your hair: some days your hair might feel extra dry or brittle. learn to adapt by spacing out washes, using a silk scarf or pillowcase to reduce friction, or applying a leave-in conditioner for an extra boost.

✧ extra tips and personal hacks ✧

i want to share some of the little adjustments that made a big difference:

nighttime care: before bed, i always tie my hair in a loose braid or bun and use a satin pillowcase. these small changes can prevent breakage and reduce tangles.

hydration matters: just like our bodies, our hair needs water too! i kept a spray bottle with water + a few drops of essential oil nearby for a quick hydrating mist throughout the day.

massage your scalp: this might sound a bit extra, but gently massaging your scalp for a few minutes daily increases blood circulation to your hair follicles, promoting growth. think of it as a self-care ritual that gives both your scalp and mind some love.

avoid over-washing: i found that washing my hair too frequently stripped away its natural oils. switching to washing every other day or even less frequently (depending on your hair type) helped maintain a balanced moisture level.

✧ some extra tips ✧

scalp yoga: try more than just a massage, incorporate gentle scalp exercises. after your massage, lightly tap or do slow circular motions with your fingertips to boost blood circulation. it's like a mini workout for your scalp that can encourage growth.

herbal rinses: switch up your rinse by brewing an herbal tea. steep rosemary or a blend of nettle + horsetail leaves, let it cool, and use it as your final rinse. these herbs are known to strengthen and add shine, giving your hair an extra boost.

overnight oil rituals: instead of heavy leave-ins, try a mix of a touch of castor oil with a few drops of argan oil. give your scalp a gentle massage before bed and let this lightweight oil work overnight (a silk scarf can help keep it in place).

cold water finish: end your wash routine with a blast of cold water. this trick helps close your hair cuticles, sealing in moisture for a smoother, fuller look.

nutrient water infusion: add a splash of coconut water to your wash. it may sound unusual, but coconut water carries vitamins and minerals that can nourish your hair from within, helping it feel extra strong over time.

✧ the mental journey ✧

growing my hair was not just about physical care; it was also about treating myself with kindness throughout the process. there were times when i felt insecure about how my hair looked during the awkward growing phase. but by embracing that phase as part of my unique journey, i learned to love every stage of my hair’s evolution. remember, bestie, progress is progress – no matter how small.

✧ a little homework for you ✧

if you’re ready to start your hair growth journey, here are some actionable steps to try today:

write down your hair goals. how long do you want your hair to be? what aspects of your hair care routine do you hope to improve? jotting down your goals sets a clear path forward.

evaluate your current routine – are there any habits you can change? maybe add one new habit, like the nighttime routine or a weekly deep conditioning session.

track your progress: take a picture of your hair each month and note any changes. this not only motivates you but also helps you see how far you’ve come.

join a community: even if it’s on tumblr, instagram, or a hair care forum, connecting with others on the same journey can provide tons of tips, support, and gentle encouragement.

growing your hair past waist length isn’t about perfection – it’s about enjoying the journey, caring for yourself, and celebrating each inch gained. i hope my experiences and tips provide some helpful insights on your own path to long, healthy hair.

sending you all love and all the good vibes as you work on your hair goals.

xoxo, mindy 🤍

girl talk, but make it anonymous. submit your dilemmas, i’ve got you: https://bit.ly/glowetteehotline

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echo-bleu · 1 year ago

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Noldor Hair Headcanons (4/4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | On AO3

There isn’t anyone left who knows how to do Maglor’s Mourning Braids, but they are described in a lament for Fingon that’s still doing the rounds, so Elrond and Elros make their best try. That style is henceforth known as Elrond’s Mourning Braids (because Elros gets forgotten by the elves a lot after he dies, let’s not lie to ourselves).

A decade of nothing but Mourning Braids really hammers in that Elrond and Elros weren’t just hostages.

It doesn’t do a lot for their reputation, but they don’t particularly care.

Bit by bit, Elros adopts mannish customs after making his Choice, and even goes so far as to cut his hair above the shoulder. Elrond is pre-grieving his brother too much to be properly shocked about this.

(It’s still long enough to braid. It’s fine. It’s not like his brother is leaving him on purpose. Or rejecting him. Elrond knows that.)

Everyone thinks Elrond should wear his hair in the Sindarin custom but he refuses to give up his Noldor braids. Elros braids his brother’s hair until he leaves for Númenor.

Elrond and Gil-galad do each other’s hair through the Second Age. Because they’re the last of their family and the only ones to keep to the old traditions. Not at all because they’re close. Of course not. Wouldn’t be proper. (They spend two hours at it every morning alone in Gil-galad’s chambers.)

Elrond revives his Mourning Braids on his 500th birthday.

Celebrimbor learns about dwarven hair culture. It’s Very Different but kind of similar, in that fancy hairstyles are a status thing. (Or really, long hair/beard is a status thing and then you have to do something with it because otherwise it catches everywhere.)

Narvi isn’t in fact the first dwarf to touch elven hair, but that’s only because Finrod had a very extended concept of family.

Annatar magically braids his own hair, when he even bothers (his hair doesn’t even singe in the forge if it falls into the fire). This hurts Celebrimbor’s sensitivities, but he adapts to Annatar’s ways, and adapts again, and adapts, until he really can’t.

Sauron cuts off Celebrimbor’s beautiful dark braids full of dwarven beads and ties them to the spears of his personal guard. Elrond never quite manages to get that image out of his head.

At war again, Gil-Galad invents locs. Well, re-invents them really, because Silvan elves have worn them forever, but he’s the first Noldor to do it. (He has Fingon’s hair texture. Does that mean he’s Fingon’s son? Who knows. He’s not telling.)

It’s only after Gil-galad’s death that Elrond teaches himself how to braid his own hair.

He hates it.

But he won’t wear his hair loose.

(The first style he masters is Maglor’s Mourning Braids.) (It really shouldn’t be because it’s Intricate but Elrond is nothing if not stubborn.)

Imladris has a full salon, like the Noldor palaces of old.

It doesn’t get that much use, to be honest.

Erestor learns to braid really tiny braids into Glorfindel’s hair, so that he never wears his hair fully loose but it still looks like it’s loose. Everyone else thinks it’s ridiculous. Glorfindel thinks it’s the best thing. Elrond watches them with a knowing smile.

Celebrían wears her hair half-loose in the Sindar style until she marries Elrond. It takes him several years to find the strength to ask her to do his hair, but she lets him do hers and he sneaks in more and more braids until they settle on a mixed-style. When he finally allows her to do his hair, Celebrían makes her mother grumpily teach her proper Noldor braids.

Elladan and Elrohir only wear practical Sindarin braids for the day to day, but they delight in doing each other’s hair in complicated styles for feasts and ceremonies. Elrond cries the first time they accidentally replicate Maglor’s favourite hairstyle.

Arwen is a little gremlin who squirms out of her parents’ lap when they try to braid her hair. She’s also inherited even more of Melian’s hair than Elrond, so even when they manage to do a braid, it’s gone in a few hours.

It takes years after Celebrían sails, because they’re all grieving, but eventually Elrohir offers to do his father’s hair, and Elrond lets him. They don’t do it every day, but it’s a large step in their recovery process.

By the way, Thranduil’s thing for flower/leaf crowns isn’t a Sindar or Silvan practice, it’s just that he wanted to be Fancy but Not In a Noldor Way, thank you very much. He’s also very vain. His servants do his hair.

Little Estel is very cute, has very silky hair for a man, even of his line, and makes a great doll for the twins to play with. He likes his hair touched A Lot.

Arwen learns about that early on. She’s a very good silver smith. Aragorn now owns a lot of hair jewellery. He can’t make a braid to save his life, but that’s fine, because Arwen can’t wear them anyway.

In the North, he wears his hair like Elros, cut above his shoulders. Once he becomes King, he lets it grow to his waist. He’s the first Man since Tuor to casually wear his hair in elaborate Noldor braids. He accidentally sets a fashion.

Arwen also does Éowyn’s and Faramir’s hair regularly. The first time is for their wedding. Éowyn isn’t a fan of the unpractical Fëanorian styles, but the Nolofinwëan battle braids look incredibly good on her.

Wandering on the coast for two ages, Maglor no longer does anything with his hair. It doesn’t enjoy the salt at all.

When Elrond finally finds him, he almost has to cut it all off. Instead, he spends weeks carefully untangling and moisturising Maglor’s hair until he can finally braid it in the old style for him. Maglor cries.

Elrond cries too. He cries even more when Maglor sits them down on the floor and braids his hair like he used to.

They sail together with the other Ring bearers, and there’s a lot more crying when they find Celebrían, Gil-galad and Maedhros waiting for them together.

Celebrían is wearing her hair in one of the Fëanorian styles that can be done one-handed.

Galadriel isn’t entirely happy about that, but she sees Finrod and forgets about it.

There’s some more crying.

Fingon is also there (the amount of gold in his hair is a bit blinding, not that Elrond will ever tell him) and also wearing a one-handed braided style.

There are some fights over who gets to do Elrond’s hair in the next few weeks.

Celebrían wins most of them, because she’s inherited Galadriel’s viciousness, but she lets everyone have a turn.

Elrond would like to know why he doesn’t have a say in it.

(He does. They would never touch him if he didn’t want to. They’re just very happy to see him.)

He does go to visit Elwing and Eärendil in their tower, and he goes with his hair down, because he’s a peace-maker at heart.

But in Tirion, he always sports the most complex hairstyles, just barely coming short of overshadowing the High King’s (mostly because his hair is still too silky for it to hold well), because his family all want to outdo each other.

He earns the reputation of being the most beloved of all the Noldor.

It’s not wrong.

Some visuals & more in my art tag

#noldor hair headcanons #if i am to braid my mystic crown #echo's fanfiction #silmarillion #tolkien #silm fic #tolkien fanfiction #elrond #gil-galad #lotr #the lord of the rings #aragorn #arwen #celebrimbor #maglor

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whatdoeseverybodywant · 1 year ago

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You're the Only Girl for Me - Chapter 1

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

All OC Characters belong to me

Taglist: @christinabae@southerngirl41@reci24@jeyusos-girl@jeyusosgirl@melaninsugababy@baconeggndcheez@bemybabiibish@jstarr86@nbanenefrmdao@purplehairgawdess@arination99@alyyaanna@m3llowww@gomussy@jeysbae@hennyyybarb@babysyhsy @bebesobrielo @jeysbae @empressdede

gif credit: @laknxght

AIRIELLEJONES

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AirielleJones: Friday Nights just got 100 times hotter ❤️

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aliyahwwe: congrats bby i'll miss u 😢

user: hope she replaces @kaylabraxtonwwe

AirielleJones: ew blocked. we don't do that here

`shotziwwe: noooo please don't leave us 😭

SEPTEMBER 4th 2020

Airielle Jones smiled to herself as she looked around the backstage area. After working her ass off for two years down at NXT she was finally getting an opportunity to showcase her talents on the main roster.

“Airielle?” She looked over when she heard her name being called. “I’m Kayla. Nice to meet you.” Kayla said, shaking Airielle’s hand.

“Nice to meet you too.”

“So Paul said you can shadow me for the day and tomorrow you’ll do Talking Smack with me.” Airielle didn’t think it was possible for her smile to get any bigger.

“Oh wow. Hopefully I won’t be in your way.” She said and Kayla waved her off.

“Don’t worry about it. Come on, follow me.” Kayla had Airielle follow her around backstage, introducing her to passing superstars and upper management that Airielle had yet to meet.

“So I have a segment to film with Sheamus and then one with Jey Uso at the end of the night. Have you met either of them yet?”Kayla said as A.J Styles just walked away from them and Airelle shook her head.

“No, I've met his twin though. I’m good friends with his wife.”

“Oh. You know Trin?” Airielle nodded. “How?”

“We go to the same hair salon in Pensacola.”

“Oh wow, Small world.” Kayla said and beckoned Airielle to follow her.

Airielle watched in awe as Kayla recorded her segment with Sheamus. She couldn’t wait until she was able to do what she loved.

“Hey kid.” She smiled at Hunter when he walked over to her.

“Hi. Mr Levesque.” She said, shaking his hand in greeting.

“Please call me Paul. How you like the main roster?” He gestured around and Airielle nodded with a nervous chuckle.

“It’s awesome. Gonna take some getting used to thought.” She said and he laughed, giving her a pat on the back.

“You’re gonna do great, kid.” He said giving her one last smile before walking away.

Kayla led Airielle around backstage showing her around the Amway Center when they bumped into Jey Uso.

“Oh, hey Jey,. This is Airielle, Airielle this is Jey.” Kayla said and Airielle held her hand out.

“Nice to meet you Jey.” She said, smiling at him. Josh was hooked, instantly. The second she smiled at him he was a goner. He realized he must’ve been staring at her because she slowly put her hand down, arched an eyebrow at him and turned her head to look at Kayla.

“Shit, I zoned out. My bad.” He said, clearing his throat and giving them an awkward laugh “I’m Josh.” He said and she laughed.

“Nice to meet you.” She said again waving bye and she and Kayla started to walk away from him. Josh groaned to himself as he watched her walk away. She was definitely gonna be trouble.

Airielle and Kayla were sitting in The Gorilla position, watching the main event of the show when Paul walked over to them.

“Hey kid, you got the post match.” He said to Airielle and her eyes widened. Paul laughed at the look on her face. “You don’t mind right?” He asked Kayla and she shook her head no.

“Absolutely not. I’ll help her get ready.” She said and Paul nodded.

“Good Luck,” he said giving her a thumbs up before walking off.

It was almost time for Airielle to go out and do the post match interview. There weren’t any fans but she was still nervous.

Kayla sensed her nervousness and grabbed her hand giving it a squeeze. “Girl, you got this, don't worry.” Airielle nodded and followed a stage hand to the side entrance of the ramp. Airielle watched as Jey- Josh hit the uso splash and pinned Matt Riddle for the 3-count. She and Josh made eye contact as she made her way into the ring.

“Congratulations Jey.” She said smiling. “You have earned your opportunity for the universal championship against your cousin Roman Reigns, at Clash of Champions. How important was this victory for you?” She held the microphone close to him so he could answer.

Josh looked at her and his mind went blank. He blinked trying to refocus himself. He said the only thing that came to mind. “Yes, sir!” He yelled out twice. “Hey big dog! I made the family proud, too. But guess what, Roman Reigns its locked down! Welcome…. You know the rest.” He said winking at her as his theme music played.

“You did good.” Kayla said, hugging her. “Sorry I'm a hugger.” Kayla said as she pulled away from Airielle.

“It’s okay and thank you. I don’t know why I was so nervous.”

“Girl, you were a natural out there. So um, we film "Talking Smack" tomorrow morning nine am sharp. Meet me in the underground parking lot at eight.” Airielle nodded and gave Kayla one last hug before walking out of the arena and towards her rental.

SEPTEMBER 5th 2020

Airielle rushed towards Kayla. “I’m sorry I’m late.” It was 8:30 am. “I’m still getting used to being up this early.”

“It’s only thirty minutes. You’re good.” Kayla said and motioned for Airielle to follow her into the arena. “Woods is joining us today. Have you met him?” Airielle nodded. “Cool, we have Shinsuke, Cesaro, Alexa and Jey as guests today.” Airielle nodded again and continued to listen to Kayla as she went over how the show was going to happen.

“Oh hey, Airielle’s here.” Xavier Woods said, causing Josh to look up from his phone and towards Airielle and Kayla. “Have you met her yet?” Josh groaned and nodded.

“Yeah, made a complete ass outta myself.” He said, sucking his teeth when Woods started laughing at him. “It ain't funny Uce. I felt like an idiot just standing staring at her.” He rolled his eyes and pushed Woods away from him when he continued to laugh. “I’ll see you later.” Josh said, flipping Woods off as he walked away.

Airielle felt at home as she talked with Kayla, Woods, and Alexa during the Talking Smack taping. She felt like she actually belonged. Alexa had just left the panel and it was time to bring Josh in.

“Well we have one more guest to join us right now.” She said looking between Kayla and Woods.

“Right and I’ve used the word easy, but you know what’s not easy.” Kayla chimed in. “When you have to go head-on with family and that's what this guy will be doing come-” She was cut off as Josh came into the shot spraying the three of them with silly string.

Airielle laughed as Woods started yelling about the string getting stuck in his hair. She started to pull the string out of her hair as Kayla started to talk about what happened the night before on Smackdown. She noticed that Josh was trying his hardest to not look in her direction and frowned before she remembered that she was on camera and plastered a smile on her face. She zoned back into the conversation when it was her turn to talk.

“So let's say you go on the clash of champions and you become our new universal champion.” Airielle started and Josh felt his heart start to beat faster at the sound of her voice. “What’s your plan?” Their eyes met for the first time that day and once again Josh was stuck. All thoughts flew out of his head. He snapped back once Woods kicked his leg under the table. He ignored the weird looks Kayla and Woods were giving him and answered Airielle’s question.

“Real talk I can’t even rap that around my head. I aint never looked at me as no, real talk I ain't never thought about the big title. Never thought about a IC title, US title. It was always tryna chase yall.” He said pointing towards Woods. “It was always about beating y’alls record. I love the New Day. It was always eyes on the tag team titles. But now it’s like oh.” He stopped and smiled. “I can do it, you know.”

She watched as he talked about how much winning the title would mean to him and she couldn’t help but smile, he was so passionate about wrestling, it was adorable to see.

“That was so much fun.” Airielle said to Kayla once filming was done. Wood and Josh said goodbye before leaving Airielle and Kayla still sitting at the table.

“Yeah, it was.” Kayla said with a frown on her face.

“Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?” Kayla looked over at Airielle and placed her hands overtop of hers.

“No, you were fantastic. It’s just..” She paused and looked around before sliding her chair closer to Airielle. “Can you keep a secret?” Airielle leaned closer to Kayla and nodded.

“Did Josh seem off to you? I mean I know you just met him, but..” Kayla sighed. Airielle shrugged,

“I mean, maybe he was nervous about something. Is.. is he your boyfriend?”

“No, I mean we.. you know, and went on some dates but we haven’t made anything official. We’re keeping it on the low.” Airielle nodded but she didn’t know what to say. She was slightly disappointed because she found Josh to be extremely attractive but it didn’t matter because she had promised herself that she would not jeopardize her job for a quick fuck with one of these superstars.

Clash Of Champions 2020

AIRIELLEJONES

liked by kaylabraxtonwwe, carmellawwe, trinity_fatu and 180,000 others

AirielleJones: Siri, play Beyoncé "Freakum Dress"

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user: 🥵

yasmine_jones: yasss! step on they fuvkin necks 😍

user: she just keeps blessing the TL

Airielle had been on the main roster for about 4 weeks now and she honestly couldn’t have been any happier. Sure she missed some of her friends from NXT but being on Smackdown had opened up way more opportunities for her than being on NXT.

She was walking towards catering when she heard someone call out her name. She smiled when she saw that it was Kayla who called her name. She walked over and was immediately pulled into a hug.

“First PLE. Are you excited?” Kayla asked and Airielle nodded with a nervous chuckle. She was about to respond when someone else called her name.

“Airielle?! I missed you” Airielle smiled brightly at Trinity and rushed over to give her a hug. “Damn, look at you. I gotta come raid ya closet girl. “

Josh was walking around the arena with Jon looking for Trinity.

“What the point of having a damn phone if she ain’t gon’ answer it.” Jon grumbled as he pressed Trinity’s name on his phone again, cursing her when her voicemail picked up again. “Why you so quiet Josh? You nervous?”

“Hell yeah I'm nervous. I aint never have a opportunity like this before Uce. What if I screw it up.”

“Man shut up.” He said, laughing when Josh stopped walking and glared at him.

“What-”

“Shut up. You and big uce gon go out there and kill it. Stop worrying.” Josh nodded and took a deep breath. “You got this Uce.” Jon said as he pulled his brother into a hug. “Now help me find my wife.”

They started walking again towards catering. That was the only place left to check. Jon cursed as he bumped into his brother almost knocking himself over. “Damn, what the f-”

“I found her.” Josh said lowly nodding his head over to where Trinity was standing, talking to Airielle and Kayla. Jon started to limp his way over but stopped when he noticed his brother wasn't following him.

“You coming?” Josh shook his head,

“Nah, imma stay right here.” He said ignoring the look his twin was giving him. “I just don’t want to go over there.” He said avoiding his brother's eyes.

“Josh, stop playing and come on.” Jon rolled his eyes when Josh didn’t move. He hobbled over to his wife. “TRIN!” He yelled. She jumped, turning to face him. “Why you not answering ya phone man.” He said, rolling his eyes at her. “Sup Kayla.” He said fist bumping her and turned his attention to Airielle. “Oh shit. I know you.” He said, causing her to laugh.

“Hi, Jon. Nice to see you again.” She said, smiling at him.

“I thought you were with Josh?” Trin asked and Jon nodded and pointed behind him where Josh was waiting down the hall.

“I was, he acting weird.” All the girls looked down the hall towards Josh whose eyes widened when he saw them looking at him. Airielle looked at Kayla out of the corner of her eye and saw that she was now looking down at her heels with a sad look on her face.

I’ll see y’all later. Don’t forget to text me when you get back to Pensacola.” Trinity told Airielle.

“Hey you okay?” Airielle asked once Trin and Jon walked away from them. Kayla shrugged.

“I mean.” She sighed. “He’s been ignoring me. He won’t tell me what’s going on.”

“Well honestly fuck him. If he’s ghosting you it’s his loss.” She said, pulling Kayla into a hug.

Josh, Jon and Trinity were now in Joe’s locker room, as Josh and Joe got ready for the show.

“Is everything okay with you and Kayla?” Trin asked once Josh sat down on the couch next to her. Josh arched his eyebrow and shrugged.

“Yeah why?”

“She was the reason why you didn’t come over earlier with Jon right?” She narrowed her eyes at him when he avoided her eyes and bit the inside of his cheek.

“Josh..”

Josh cleared his throat and shrugged. “Yeah, me and Kay cool. I mean we not together though but..” He shrugged again, trailing off. Trinity studied him then let out a gasp.

“What about Airielle?” She asked and he choked on the water he was sipping.

“What happened?” Josh rolled his eyes and sunk lower into the couch.

“Nothing happened, he just made an ass outta himself.” Joe said, overhearing their conversation. Josh sucked his teeth and glared over at his older cousin. “You ain’t see talking smack from a couple weeks ago? Man was stuck the second she started talking to him.”

“Josh got a crush.”

“I’m a grown ass man, I ain’t got no damn crush.” He said, rolling his eyes when they all laughed at him.

First chapter of the rewrite. I hope you guys like it

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

#wwe #jey uso #jey uso imagine #jey uso x black reader #main event jey uso #jey uso smut #jey uso x reader #jey uso fluff #jey uso one shot #jey uso fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #wwe x black reader #black reader #the usos

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