#hairdressers hm

[thedndgoblinwholivesinyourwalls]

head in HANDS. AUGH.

[sprolden]

everyone please tell me not to cut myself some face framing pieces with craft scissors in my room

[toledopilled]

<- guy who is seriously considering the classic emo cut in 2024

[nebulaedaniel]

i wanna live my masc lesbian dreams at christmas this year but what the fuck. do i wear

[fairyysoup]

his hands

pairing(s): hairdresser!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: How do you make getting a haircut an erotic experience? You have Eddie Munson as your hairdresser, of course.

cw: explicit, smut, unprotected piv sex, mirror sex, workplace sex, hand kink, choking, dumbification, dom!eddie, touch-starved!reader, semi-sort-of subspace happenings, referring to genitals with gendered pronouns, slight body worship, getting weirdly horny over a head massage, sexual tension, negative self talk, hair cut/style mentioned but no description of hair color/type, the aftercare is the haircut lol, implied 90s au, eddie's like 30, reader's age unspecified, eddie is employee of the month in my heart, not proofread, no beta we die like men

a/n: this is weird. and came from an interesting experience i had at the hair salon. and yes that is corpse's hand in that pic i didn't want to spend all day looking for a header pic shut up shut up shut up

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

Your hands twitch on the copy of Elle magazine in your lap. The familiar waiting area of your local salon has new furniture, which still smells a bit like the cellophane it came wrapped in, and hasn’t been worn out by patrons just yet. You’d asked for your usual stylist, Melissa. Except, you haven’t been here in so long, and apparently Melissa doesn’t work here anymore. 

“We have a new stylist in her place,” the greeter at the front desk told you kindly. “I could fit you in if you’d like that same station?” 

The station doesn’t matter to you; they all look the same and have the same tools. Obviously, when it comes to getting your hair cut, the stylist makes the difference. But, since you’re a couple months too late to catch up with Melissa, a new stylist is who you’ll be working with. 

The PA still plays some sort of weird pop-rock fusion that mixes Nat King Cole with Billy Idol, but you just try to focus on it to keep your leg from bouncing. You always get anxious like this when you come in for an appointment, even though you always tell yourself the same thing. It’s just hair. If you don’t like it, it’ll grow back. Or, if worst comes to worst, you could always shave it.

You hear your name being called, and you look up to the person who’d just approached the waiting area around the partition that blocks off the styling area. You blink, your mind going fuzzy as you try to make sense of what you see.

“Looks like I’ll be cutting your hair today,” the man standing at the end of the row of chairs says, with a grin that puts boyish dimples on his cheeks. “I’m Eddie.”

Eddie the Hairdresser is a bit more than you can handle right now. Between his long, curly hair, and the shirt he wears that gives you a view of the tattoos crawling up his arms, you think your knees might already be made out of jelly as you try to stand. But then he sticks out his hand for you to shake, and he’s wearing big, chunky rings that glint in the light, and you think you might swoon like a Victorian damsel.

“I’m, uh–” you begin intelligently, as you fit your hand into his big one. He squeezes just the tiniest bit and smirks at you. “I– I’m trying to, uh–”

“First time?” Eddie asks you with a tilt of his head. His brown eyes crease at the edges with mirth.

“Oh, um, no,” you mutter, looking everywhere but at his dimples. He has a tattoo on his neck of a dragon. You stare at it for a moment too long. “I used to come and see Melissa, forever ago.” 

“Oh! Yeah, Melissa was great. She trained me,” Eddie starts jabbering as he tilts his head and leads you around the partition. You’re met with the smell of hairspray and the sound of blow dryers getting louder. “She’s a hard act to follow, but I hope I can do well enough. Let’s get you started with a wash, hm?” 

You smile as he winks at you conspiratorially. You always feel a little bit awkward as you sit in the chair for the wash sinks, but Eddie ushers you into it with a little wave of his hand and gently– more gently than you can remember even Melissa being– lifts the ends of your hair and places a soft towel around your shoulders.

“What kept you away all this time?” Eddie asks pleasantly as he tests the water temperature. “Melissa’s been gone for a while.”

“Yeah, I, uh, I was working a lot,” you stumble into an explanation, your cheeks heating up a bit. It’s hard not to feel like you need to repent for not coming in to get a trim every month. “Last time I came in, I got my hair cut really short, so it wasn’t like I needed to come in for a trim for a long time, and by the time I really needed one it was long enough that I could do it myself… so, I just kept doing that.”

“So, what are we doing today?” Eddie inquires as his fingertips brush along your temples to tuck your hair back behind your ears and into the wash basin. With gentle prompting, he tilts your head back into the bin and begins to wet the ends of your hair.

“I figured it’s time I go short again,” you tell him, more confident than you really feel about it. It was a split second decision, one that you made because the reflection in the mirror was looking back at you with such a dead expression that you decided you needed a change in a bad way. For a lighter note, you supplement, “I’m tired of brushing tangles out of my hair every morning, and the other day I had a whole bird’s nest at the back of my neck, y’know.”

“Pssh, I know all about tangles. You saw my hair,” Eddie chuckles as the lukewarm water touches your scalp. Goosebumps rise on your arms while he rambles on, “I have to comb my hair wet or else I look like I got electrocuted. I never used to care about that sort of thing before I went to school for this, but once you start learning about proper treatment it’s kind of hard to ignore. I used to wash my hair with bar soap. Dry as hell, no conditioner. I’m surprised I got it long to begin with.” 

You find yourself smiling just thinking about it. “Bar soap? With those curls?”

“Don’t tell anyone, my reputation will be ruined,” Eddie leans down and whispers to you while he reaches for a bottle of shampoo. You hear a crack of a bottle cap, and then his hands are in your hair again, working the sweet smelling soap into your roots. “I’m trying to get employee of the month, but they’re never gonna give it to me if they know I used to sabotage my own hair with Irish Spring.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you tell him sweetly, but you’re barely paying attention to his words anymore. His fingers are pressing into areas on your head that haven’t had a proper massage in forever, and months of tension headaches are being brought to the forefront of your mind. 

You never consider how oddly intimate having someone wash your hair is until you’re in the thick of it. Eddie’s thumbs massage circles into your occipitals with just a perfect amount of pressure, and the muscles down the back of your neck slowly melt and relax, moving with the swell of his fingertips. You suddenly feel very relaxed and very sleepy, and your eyelids drift closed as Eddie’s thumbs trace the line of your skull up to your hairline.

It even takes a moment for you to tune into the fact that he’s humming. Under his breath, he’s singing along to the notes of the song on the PA. He’s doing it in such a way that you’re sure he’s not even aware of it, himself, and you’d comment on it if you weren’t afraid that you’d embarrass him. His fingers are massaging circles around your temples now, and while you’re trying to focus on the sound of him harmonizing with the music, your mind is again trying to distract you with the feeling developing at the base of your spine. A ticklish, warm feeling spreads between your hips, disrupting the lull you find yourself in and forcing you to blink your eyes open. 

Oh, no. We’re not doing that right now.

You can’t say you’re surprised that this is your response. His hands are all over your head and you haven’t been touched by anyone in… well, a very long time, to say the least. You’re probably a little starved for it, all things considered. But this is really the wrong time and place to be getting turned on by a guy’s touch.

You shift in your seat, trying not to be too obvious about it when Eddie pulls his hands away and begins rinsing your hair again. Crossing your legs would be a dead giveaway, but the warm feeling is turning into a subtle throb between your legs, and Eddie’s hands are back on your head, now gently combing the conditioner through the length of your hair as though he’s petting you.

After a few torturous minutes of trying to ignore the blooming arousal deep in your gut, Eddie cuts the water and wraps your hair in the towel to secure it. 

“Now comes the hard part,” Eddie says, probably not meaning to make it sound so suggestive, but your mind seems to be taking its sweet time loitering in the gutter. 

You stare dazedly up at the ceiling. Now is the hard part?

Eddie leads you to what used to be Melissa’s station, and swings the swivel chair around for you with a flourish. “Step into my office, sweetheart. I’ll get you all dressed up in a sexy robe and everything.” 

You stifle a giggle as you slide into the seat. His “office” is one table in a row of other tables, and two feet away an older woman is getting her hair bleached by a girl with an undercut. As Eddie spins you around, the stylist shoots him a look. 

“He’s a shameless flirt,” she tells you, making eye contact with you in the mirror. Eddie lays a smock across your front and buttons it at the back of your neck.

“I’ll have you know, I’ve been minding my manners very well,” Eddie huffs with feigned indignation as he unwraps your hair and tosses the towel onto the table in front of you. He still winks at you in the mirror when he leans around you to pick up a comb. “So far.”

You can’t help the way that your jaw clenches. He’s really not going to make this easy on you. You wonder if he knows where your mind has been for the last ten minutes.

Eddie moves around to the back of your chair and presses on a lever to raise it up, but nothing happens. 

“Dammit,” Eddie curses under his breath, and turns to his coworker, who’s still loading tinfoil into the woman’s hair until she looks like something from Close Encounters. “I can’t believe you gave me the crap chair.”

“Early birds get the good chairs,” the stylist replies. 

Eddie sighs and turns back to you, and finds you looking at him curiously in the mirror. “This is the only broken chair in the whole salon, and everyone hates it, so it tends to move around. You never know if you’ll get the crap chair.”

“That’s sabotage,” you giggle.

“I know! So I have to bend down to style you, I’m sorry.”

“I think I can handle it.” You watch him give you a look in the mirror that makes you shift in your seat again. 

“So,” he begins, looking down at your head as he begins detangling your hair. “We’re going short?”

“That’s the plan,” you say with a puff of your chest. Please, god, don’t let it be horrible. 

“How short?” he prompts, eyeing you in the mirror. “Shoulder length? Close cropped?”

You reach up a slightly shaky hand and pinch the length that you want between two fingers. “Here’s good.”

Eddie nods, looking somewhat pleased. “Are we doing layers?”

“Yeah, I think layers would be good for the long term.” 

“Gives you more flexibility,” he agrees. He picks up a pair of scissors and begins measuring out the length that you want. “I’ll start with the length and then we’ll move to bangs, all right?” 

“That… sounds good.” You’re temporarily discombobulated by Eddie taking the sides of your head and tilting your head down just the slightest bit. 

“Stay just like that for me, okay?” he says quietly.

You blink down at the table in front of you, feeling your mouth go dry. “No problem.” Your hands nervously twitch beneath the cover of the smock across your body.

He goes back to humming along with the music on the PA, and you don’t have the heart to interrupt him. You’re trying to focus on anything but the nerves in your system and the way his touch keeps making you want to jump out of your seat.

After a moment, he stops humming and dusts a bit of hair off of your shoulder. “There we go. Good girl.” 

You blink up at Eddie in the mirror, and then see the transformation from long hair to short on your head. 

“How does it feel?” Eddie asks, leaning down to pinch the ends of the front and measure the evenness of the length. You stare at his fingers, and the tattoo of a bat just above his thumb on his left hand.

“Ten pounds lighter,” you joke. It feels like you’ve swallowed a lump of hot coal, but he doesn’t need to know that. Eddie grins, and his dimples make a glorious reappearance. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmurs, and again positions your head where he wants it, staring directly forward. “Honestly, even if you wanted to stop here, it would suit you. I don’t think there’s a way to make you look bad, sweetheart.”

“You’ve never seen me with a hangover,” you scoff, trying to ignore how your heart skips a beat. 

Eddie smirks at you in the mirror while he starts working on giving your hair layers. “My guess is that you still look just as cute, but with a bit more of a grumpy look around here.” He gestures to your brow with one finger, and reaches over to set aside the texturizing scissors. 

“So, what I’m hearing is, you think I’m cute?” you say, still trying to play up the confidence that you don’t really have. Your hand squeezes your thigh under the smock you wear, your nails digging in for purchase.

“No, I think you’re gorgeous,” Eddie says swiftly, like it’s just a matter of fact. “But, I think you’d also be cute when you’re hungover. Plus, with this hair, you’d probably look all unkempt and I love the mental image that’s creating.”

His hands fluff the layers that he’s put into your hair, ruffling them gently and carding his fingers through them to measure their length. You’re sure that he’s not aware of the moon-eyed look you’re giving him in the mirror. 

Except, then he moves around you to start working on your bangs, and the smirk that comes across his face when he looks down at yours is enough to make you lose your composure. He knows everything that’s going on in your head, you’re sure of it. 

Cocky bastard.  

“I like your tattoos,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear over the music and the sounds of blow dryers all around you. He’s face to face with you, so close that you can count the freckles on his pale face.

Eddie’s eyes light up. “Yeah? What about ‘em?” 

“Well,” you lick your lips, your eyes flicking down to the one on his neck, and the one peeking out of his collar. “They’re colorful, and they look like you put a lot of thought into picking out each one. They’re pretty.”

“Hmm. You flatter me,” he remarks, trying to hide his grin and failing. If you look closely, there’s just the slightest pink tint to his cheeks that wasn’t there before. He finishes trimming your bangs, and just before he stands up, he chucks you lightly under the chin. “Keep it up and you might get a freebie.”

A free what? You’re imagining he means some sort of a free hair wash or something, but you can’t keep your mind from going to unprecedented places. 

“All right. Bear with me, I’m gonna blow dry you now.” He turns your chair away from the mirror to get you a bit closer to the blow dryer, and for a few minutes, there’s a lull in the conversation. 

Then, all at once, the blow dryer shuts off, and Eddie leans down towards you. “Ready, sweetheart?”

“Eddie, you’re gonna make me nervous.”

“Well, we don’t want that.” You just barely turn your head to look at him; just enough that your noses barely brush. You steal a breath that comes from his mouth, and then, Eddie turns you to the mirror. “Like I said,” he murmurs, “There’s not a way to make you look bad.”

“Holy shit,” you breathe. And holy shit is right– he’s done a complete number on you. Your hair is voluminous, framing your face in a way that you haven’t seen it before.  

“What do you think?” he asks, and for a moment, you think it’s a rhetorical question.

“I think you’re way better than Melissa,” you tell him, once you realize that it’s not rhetorical and he’s really asking you what you think. You’re sure that he’d make adjustments if you needed, but you don’t need him to. He’s read you like a book. He’s made you look better than you could ever have hoped for. 

“I’m gonna need that in writing,” he tells you, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen. “For employee of the month, and all.”

“Tell me where to sign.”

He jerks his head, and all at once the fog lifts. You follow him to the front desk like a lost puppy, feeling like you don’t actually want to leave. You want to sit in his chair while he cuts your hair until you have none left. You want to keep his attention on you and stare at his smile, his hair, his eyes, his tattoos, for the rest of time. 

“I look forward to next time, princess,” he tells you, but you’re hyperfocused on the touch of his hand to your lower back. 

You watch him telling something to the girl at the front desk, his hand wrapped around the edge of the table and distracting you for the umpteenth time. You watch his silver rings glint in the light, and you think about them weaving through your hair; you think about his fingers and how they’d feel on places besides your head.

“So, when did you want to schedule an appointment?” 

You blink a few times, and in a dazed glow you come back to where you are. At the front desk. Paying for your haircut. “Sorry, what?” 

“The… next appointment? For your trim?” The secretary tilts her head, smiling at you kindly. “When did you want to come in?”

“Oh,” you murmur, looking down at the keyboard that she’s typing on. Eddie has disappeared back around the partition with a sweet smile and a wave cast in your direction. You just want him to come back again. “What would you suggest? Y’know, for this kind of a cut?”

“Hmm,” the girl hums, and sizes you up. Not in a way that makes you doubt yourself, but in a way that tells you she’s taking your question seriously. “Probably about four weeks. See if the length is something you’re happy with?” 

“Great. Four weeks from now. With Eddie.” You peer down at the rack of business cards on the deck, and pick up the one farthest to the right. 

Eddie Munson, Stylist. Set an appointment today!

By four weeks, your hair has already reached your shoulders, and the ease of maintenance is starting to wear off. When you get a call reminding you about your appointment with Eddie, your head reels with the knowledge that you’ll see him again.

You calmly assert to yourself that this time, there will be no mooning over him. He’s just your hairdresser. You figure he just has a job to do, tips to earn, and so on. You don’t know if he’s available, you don’t know if he’s single or if he even likes you the way that you like him. You don’t know anything about him, really.

False. You know that he used to wash his hair with bar soap.

You snicker to yourself as you sit in the waiting area yet again. The only available slot for him today was 6:30; pretty close to closing time, but for a Wednesday you figured it was best for you to come late, since you’d have time to get yourself together after work.

You’ve never been in the salon so late. It’s getting dark outside, and the overhead lights cast a semi-yellow glow around the waiting area. Business is dying down now. Not as many people love the idea of getting their hair cut so late, you suppose, but it was either this or wait another week to get an appointment with Eddie, and with the rate that your hair is growing, you’d probably be going insane by then.

“Hey, you,” Eddie says, popping his head around the partition with a grin that makes you nearly melt in your seat. His curly hair hangs in a curtain out in midair, and his long neck stretches out for you to take a gander at. “Just couldn’t stay away, huh?”

You smile at him. “Well, you’re the only person I trust with my head.”

What the fuck did you just say?

Eddie smirks, glowing pink around the ears. “I’ll keep that in mind, princess. Let me clean up my station real quick and I’ll getcha goin’, all right?”

You swallow back the lump in your throat. “Yeah, sure, no worries.”

When Eddie disappears again, you slide down in your seat and clap your hand across your eyes. You’re sort of glad that nobody was in the waiting room to see that ridiculous exchange, but you still have to sit with your embarrassment while Eddie cuts your hair. Again.

There will be no pining. There will be no getting weirdly turned on by him washing your hair. Nope, not happening this time.

This time, when Eddie ushers you back behind the partition, there’s only one two other stylists who are there cleaning their stations. The PA has been turned way down, so you can barely register what it’s playing at all.

“You actually came at a good time,” Eddie tells you as you trail after him toward the wash station. “You’re the last person for the night, so I can really take my time with you.”

“O-oh.. really?” You beat back your perverted thoughts with a stick. “To do what?”

“Oh, y’know,” Eddie shrugs as he lays a towel around your shoulders again, just as gentle as he was the last time. “We could do something totally crazy. Who knows what’ll happen?”

His voice is animated, pleasantly filling the empty space where your thoughts might become too much if you let them wander. 

Over the past month, after you’d recovered from your last meeting with Eddie, and as you were preparing for this one, you came up with a few things that you could ask him about– just to keep your mind from going to places you didn’t want them to. To save yourself the embarrassment and the ordeal of having to play whack-a-mole with your libido, and all. 

“Did you get employee of the month?” you begin with.

Eddie laughs, and then sighs. “No, our manicurist got it. I’ll get it this time, I just gotta stay on my A-game.” His blunt nails rake your hair away from your forehead and temples, and a lukewarm stream of water hits the crown of your skull.

You nearly want to jump out of your skin at the feeling. “Was it because they gave you the crap chair too many times?”

“Probably. But I got here early today, so the good news is you don’t have to sit in the crap chair this time.” 

“Aww, I kind of liked the crap chair. Kept me grounded.” You hear him huff a laugh as he starts lathering shampoo through your hair. Trying to keep your mind running so you don’t focus too hard on how good his rings feel scraping against your scalp, you ask, “How’d you get into this line of work?”

“Honestly, it’s kind of a weird story,” Eddie starts, beginning to massage his fingertips into your skull in a way that makes your toes curl in your shoes. You tighten your hands on the arms of your chair and take a deep breath. “So, it took me three tries to graduate high school, right? I was terrible at it. And, y’know, I figured I’d only end up working in a garage or something for the rest of my life. But I was cutting my mane all on my own, and eventually I started cutting my friends’ hair too, because they were all in college and it’s cheaper than going to a salon. I mean–” he chuckles, and begins rinsing your hair– “believe me. I know all about it. And it just came to me really easily, ‘cause I used to be great at drawing and crafting and stuff. And it’s kind of the same thing– once you learn the medium, it’s smooth sailing from there.”

The salon has gone eerily quiet, and by the time Eddie wraps your head and sits you up, you realize that the other stylists have gone, and you and Eddie are the last people in the building. You’d be a little nervous about it, but you got Eddie on a roll, and honestly, he makes it so easy to listen to him.

“Anyways, one day my friend Robin says to me, ‘You should totally get your credential for this,’ and I said, ‘You have to go to school for this shit?’” You blow a raspberry of a laugh, no longer feeling anxious as he sits you down on his not-crap styling chair. He drapes a smock over you, and cracks a grin at you in the mirror. “I know! So, I’ve never been great at school, and I can’t afford to pay for beauty school tuition on the pay I was making at the time, so my friends… they pooled together some money to at least pay for my first semester. And then– get this– I got on the fucking Dean’s list.”

“No way.”

“I did! Yours truly!” He does a little bow, and while you’re still giggling, he begins detangling your hair. “So, I got grants. And I finished top of my class, because as it turns out, when you don’t hate what you’re studying it’s really easy to do well. I got my certification framed and everything. Show that to my damn high school principal.” He shakes his head, but the smile is still on his face when he says, “But now I just have to get that fucking employee of the month.” 

“Anything I can do to help?” you offer, admiring his face in the mirror again without even realizing you’re doing it. You love seeing him grin, showing off his dimples and the smile lines around his eyes.

“Oh, you know,” he shrugs with a cute scrunch of his nose. “Just make sure you write my boss a letter saying how fantastic and amazing I am and how there’s no other hair stylist like me and how you’ll never find anyone as cool and sexy anywhere else. Something subtle like that oughta do it.” 

“Shouldn’t be difficult,” you tell him smoothly. “I already had that one drafted.”

He chuckles, his eyes sparkling when he reaches for his scissors, but you still notice the faint blush on his cheeks that he tries to hide behind his curtain of hair. “Flattery. You know what that gets you with me.”

A freebie. You hear his voice echoing in your head, and you swallow past the dryness in your throat. “Like… what? A mohawk?”

“Would you want a mohawk?” he asks you, pausing his movements to peer at you. “Because that’d be metal as hell, I’d be so down.” 

You laugh. “I appreciate it, but I think… probably not today.”

Eddie hums, and returns to smoothing your hair back away from your face. “So we’re just doing the same as last time?” 

“Yeah, not too flashy.” 

“Gotcha. It’s a shame, though. I’m always up for a challenge.” 

“Well, I think that short hair is just easier to maintain,” you tell him, at a loss for what else to say. He glances up at you in the mirror, and locks eyes with you. “And it doesn’t make my neck look as stumpy as it is.”

Eddie tilts his head with a confused pout, and then he reaches down and wraps his hands loosely around your throat. Your breath stalls in your chest, your eyes focused on the sight of his hands on you, his thumbs gently stroking the nape of your neck and his ring clad fingers pressed just below your chin. His fingers link and hold you, creating a necklace that you’ll never be able to find anywhere else.

Oh, shit. Oh, fucking hell. Everything below your waist draws up tight and hard, your thighs clamping together like that’s going to somehow will away the hold that Eddie has on you.

You lift your eyes and find his in the mirror, dark and focused in on you. You hold each others’ gaze for a prolonged moment, not saying anything, you barely even daring to breathe. You can’t imagine what the expression on your face looks like. You’re too busy staring at the one on his– like there are a million thoughts running through his head, and you’re desperate to know every single one of them.

“Nah, I think you’re perfect.” And just like that, Eddie moves on like nothing happened, picking up his scissors again. Like he didn’t just fry your brain. Like you’re not halfway to cardiac arrest.

You’re dumbstruck as he starts trimming the ends of your hair. You told yourself there would be no mooning over him. No pining. But here, you are, turned on beyond belief, and having to deal with the heartbeat pulsing between your legs, and not shift around, because you don’t want to fuck him up. 

When he pinches the ends of the front to see if they’re level, you’re staring directly at him in the mirror. Not even trying to hide it, either. If you did try, you’d most certainly fail. Eddie frowns in concentration, a bit of a crease to his brow as he peers at his hands.

Eddie tuts. “I’m trying to figure out– is it–?” He grabs the back of your chair, and suddenly you’re being swiveled around to face him. “Sometimes these mirrors don’t even help a guy out at the worst goddamn times…”

Your breathing is way heavier than it needs to be. Is it hot in here? Did they crank up the heat in this place specifically to spite you? Eddie’s face is so close to yours, and you’re not sure if the fact that you aren’t in the crap chair is helping. You’re higher up now, and he doesn’t have to bend down as far to get level with you, and his eyes are the color of dark chocolate, and you–

Eddie’s hand comes up and snips the tip off the right side. “There we go. One side was all fucked.”

“Well, we don’t want anything getting fucked, do we?” you mutter under your breath. What’s left of it.

Eddie pauses and his eyes flick up to yours. His eyelashes are long and flutter as he holds your gaze again, while you try hard not to look away. There’s that unreadable expression on his face from earlier, morphing slowly into something like amusement, but that could also just be your mind playing tricks on you. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his li–

“Screw it.” Eddie tosses his scissors to the ground and his hands come up to grip your face, smoothing your hair back tenderly before he kisses you. 

You open your mouth and Eddie is in it, searching, feeling. His hands hold your head firm and you feel the metal of his rings digging into your cheeks, and you’re splitting apart at the seams from the way he’s completely invading your senses. He smells like warm, spicy cologne and hairspray. He tastes like cigarettes and cherry coke. He moans into you, and the sound is like heaven. 

You lift your legs and wrap them around his waist, and he grunts before he pulls away just the tiniest bit to give you breathing room. 

“This is highly unprofessional, Mr. Munson,” you whisper to him, as if you don’t have him caged in with your thighs.

“I don’t… actually fucking care,” Eddie admits, his nose just nudging against yours. “Got so fuckin’ hard the minute I saw you. What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“Dunno,” you murmur against his mouth, “I’m waiting for you to tell me.” 

“C’mere.” He pulls you out of your seat, and you practically trip over the smock he clipped around your neck. 

“Get me out of this thing,” you giggle, letting your forehead fall onto his shoulder. You inhale a deep breath of his cologne, feeling his chest shake with his laugh. 

“Aww, but you look so cute,” Eddie coos, but his hands come up to undo the button at the back of your neck. The fabric slides to the ground, and Eddie kicks it aside as he crowds you back against the table. Your ass hits the edge of it and your hand falls onto a comb when you try to steady yourself. He pulls you flush to his body, his hands caging you in. Eddie’s tongue dances over your bottom lip and you moan, lifting your hands to tangle in the fabric of his shirt.

He ducks his head to help you pull his shirt off before he tosses it somewhere to the side. You’re distracted by his tattoos, each one of them beautiful and detailed, standing out against his pale skin.

Then, you remember something that he told you earlier, and you connect some dots that you hadn’t even realized were there. “Did you draw these?” 

Eddie’s grin could blind the sun. He blushes pink down his neck and shoulders. “Yeah, I did.” 

“They’re gorgeous. I meant what I said before– I really like them.” 

He sucks in a deep breath, and then his lips are on you, everywhere they can manage. On your face, your neck, trying to get at your collarbone but your shirt is in the way. He fists it in his hands, making a petulant noise in the back of his throat. “Help me out here, sweetheart.”

Your shirt lands somewhere near his. You don’t see exactly where, because he’s pulling the straps of your bra down your shoulders so that he can mouth kisses across your breasts, pulling down on the cups until he can graze his teeth over your nipple. It takes you so off guard that you bite back a squeal, tugging at his hair and rubbing your thighs together to stave off the incessant throbbing between them.

When you look down at him, his eyes are so dark that they’re almost black. Your heart thuds erratically in your chest, your breath not coming even though you gasp and pull at the air with everything you have. You can’t really fathom why he has you so worked up– just that it’s been so long since anyone touched you like this, and now that you have it it’s like every little point of contact is on fire.

Eddie grazes his teeth across your breast, and your knees nearly buckle out from under you. You grab his face, guiding him back up to you. 

“What were you thinking when you grabbed my throat?” you ask him, your voice hoarse in the back of your throat. 

His hands are on you now, grabbing at your waist and hips, squeezing like he’ll never let go. “I can show you, if you want,” Eddie answers, and he sounds just as wrecked as you. Maybe more. 

There’s absolutely no way you’re going to refuse that. Not with the way you’ve been lusting after him since meeting him. You nod. “Eddie, please–”

He kisses you hard again before mumbling against your lips, “Turn around and take off your pants.”

You do what he asks without a second’s hesitation. You watch him in the mirror as he follows your movements, undoing his own belt, and you kick your jeans and underwear off without thinking about why you’re here, without wondering about the repercussions. You figure you can probably do that later.

Right now, Eddie’s smoothing his hand up your spine, and the feeling of his fingers dancing along your skin sends shivers through your body. His fingers weave through the hair at the nape of your neck, and he pulls just slightly, until you bare your neck. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. Your heart hammers as you watch him, dark eyes and hair and rosy cheeks in the mirror, his carnation colored lips twisting into a wicked grin at you. He kisses your shoulder so gently it’s like the fluttering of a feather. 

“‘Stumpy neck,’” Eddie scoffs under his breath, and you tremble. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

He bends you forward until you’re face to face with yourself in the mirror– but you’re looking at him, gazing into your eyes while he teases himself at your entrance.

“Oh my god,” you groan, dropping your head almost immediately at the feeling. Your head is spinning, your body rigid with anticipation and breaking out in a cool sweat already. 

“Mm-mm,” Eddie hums condescendingly, and a hand clamps around your throat, hoisting your head up again. A gasp tears from your lips. In the mirror, his eyes are blazing. “You look at me while I fuck you. That’s the only way this is gonna happen. Got it?”

You nod. You want to shrink away from the heat in his gaze, but you want him to fuck you way more than that. You shudder as he leans forward, pressing in until his chin nearly rests on your shoulder.

“I need to hear you say it, baby.” His thumb strokes lightly along your pulse point, and you make a soft noise in the back of your throat without thinking. “Tell me you understand.” 

“I understand,” you tell him, barely a whisper, but he hears it all the same. 

“Good girl.” 

Eddie grins, kisses the nape of your neck, and pulls back. When he does, you’re barely able to take a breath before he pushes his hard cock into you, and the noise you make is almost embarrassing in its volume. 

“Ohhh, you’re absolutely soaked, baby. She’s practically dripping– is this just for me?” Eddie murmurs in your ear, grinding his hips up against your ass for emphasis. The lewd noise that it makes has your toes curling and the tips of your ears burning.

“Fuck,” you moan, ginding back against him to push him deeper. He’s so thick and you’re so sensitive that your mind is completely blanking at the feeling. 

Eddie notices, and he chuckles as grabs your waist with one hand as he thrusts his hips forward. “I’ve barely gotten my cock in you, princess. Don’t go getting all dumb on me already.” His voice goes straight between your legs and your cunt pulses around him, making him hiss through his teeth. The hand on your throat tightens just slightly. “I asked you a question.”

You keen, your mind reeling as you search for words. You manage to nod, babbling out, “Yes, it’s– it’s all for you, Eddie, been wanting you so bad, s’all I can think about–”

Eddie coos, grabbing your chin to shut you up while a particularly hard thrust of his hips knocks the wind out of you. He turns his head and grazes his lips against your cheek, eyeing you in the mirror as he says, “I knew it.” 

Your eyes are on him, on his hand around your neck, on his rings pressed into your skin. All that your fucked-out mind can think is that it’s hot, and you like him and his strong hands and his pretty eyes and the way his cock is reaching places inside you that make thoughts really difficult to come by.

Eddie whispers something against your skin, and you miss it because you’re hooked on the way his eyelashes flutter for just a moment while his lips are pressed against your cheek. You lift your hand, until it rests over his against your throat, his fingers just barely laced with yours. 

“Again,” you say– it comes out like a command, but you mean it like a question. You don’t know what the fuck he just said. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he repeats, and his voice nearly cracks with the desperation in it. His sweat slick chest is pressed against your back, his thrusts rocking your hips into the table and jostling it into the wall, but his voice is so tender. “So perfect for me.” 

Your mouth falls open, your hand tightening on his. You pull, until he loosens his grip and his hand comes away with yours. You kiss his palm, then his fingertips, holding his gaze in the mirror as you slowly, gently swirl your tongue around his middle and forefinger. 

Eddie’s eyes narrow coyly at you, while his thrusts make you mewl and clutch at the table with your free hand. You suck his two fingers deep into your mouth, earning a pleased groan from him in your ear– a sound which you want to hear again and again, no matter what it takes. 

“Look at you, sweet little thing, gettin’ my fingers all wet like that,” he whispers to you, biting his lip as you grind back against him. “Wanna do something with ‘em?”

You moan, letting his fingers slide from your mouth with a wet pop. You guide his hand down your chest, down your stomach, until his fingers slide between your legs. 

“There you go,” Eddie coos, taking over from your guidance as his fingers start rubbing small circles against your clit. “Atta girl, showin’ me what you want. Just needed me to fuck you stupid first, hm?”

Your cunt pulses, and you cum with a loud moan that echoes off of the mirror in front of you and around the empty space. Eddie cries out, and you feel his warmth fill you as he cums. He slows until he stills inside you, and then he holds you, panting against your cheek, his arm wrapped around your middle and his hand on your throat.

You haven’t moved your hand away from his, you realize, after a few moments of bliss in the aftershocks. You drop your hand to the table with a thud, earning a soft, breathless chuckle from him. 

“Can I take you out to dinner?” Eddie asks you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“I think you can do whatever you want with me,” you murmur dazedly, just barely shifting and making him hiss. He’s still inside you, trying to hold you steady while he calms himself down. 

“Good.” There’s a kiss to your cheek, and Eddie grunts as he slowly eases out of you. “I still need to finish your goddamn haircut.”

“Eddie, we’re naked.” 

“And?” His hands are moving quicker than your mind is, yanking a kleenex from the table so that he can bend down and wipe the insides of your thighs. You jump at the sudden touch, but he clamps a hand around your hip to hold you still. “The sooner I finish your hair, the sooner I close up, and the sooner we go get dinner. You like Italian?”

“I didn’t think your pillow talk would involve finishing my haircut,” you grumble, but there’s a smile worming it’s way onto your face even as you say it. 

“That’s the name of the game, sweetheart,” Eddie says, tossing the tissue into the trash. He picks up your underwear, and the smock from the floor. “Now, sit your cute ass down. I’m not gonna get employee of the month by dishing out orgasms and not bangs, y’know.”

[wordsarelife]

⛧༺ NO BODY, NO CRIME ༻⛧

EPISODE 05: i think he did it but i just can’t prove it

pairing: theo nott x potter!reader

summary: you and theo go to the ball of the nocturne society and find out more about the dark magical artifact

warnings: extremely big trigger warning for the whole series, in this chapter: mentions of murder, illegal activities, underage drinking and smoking of weed, mentions of intoxication, mentions of stabbing

note: welcome back to the fifth episode of nbnc! i’m so excited to have you all back!! sorry it arrived a bit later than promised, didn't have the time to finish it sooner, but i hope a little sooner than usual is still good. check beneath the tags for a little surprise!!

please let me hear what you think in the comments!!

“okay” you muttered, still staring at the place malfoy had last stood. “what do we do now?”

theo sighed, glancing at the paper in his hand. “we still have that invitation” he shrugged. 

“you seriously wanna go in there?” you asked baffled “after everything malfoy just told us?”

“well, if they’re onto us, we better try to find out more” theo noted. “i’d rather know who i’m facing than sit around and wait for them to get me first”

“good point” you finally agreed after a few beats of silence. you adjusted your mask. 

theo looked at you, waiting. “ready?” 

“ready” you nodded. 

theo spoke the latin code word from the paper. aetema iuventa. eternal youth. the portrait swung open, revealing a hallway filled with green lanternts that hung above your heads. the entry to the party was closed by another door that flew open when theo’s hand touched it. 

you weren’t ready for what you saw. everyone was dressed in similar festive clothing, just like theo and you. but the ball was everything else but that. 

the location was beautiful. a big dance floor, surrounded by tables with food and drinks, a big chandelier hanging from the ceiling that rattled to the beat of the music. you bet those diamonds were real. 

though the location fit the theme of a ball perfectly, the behaviour of the guests did not. 

a couple was making out against the wall next to you, a few people were licking salt from each others bodies, while a few were snorting something that looked an awful lot like cocaine at the very end of the room. 

“i thought most of the slytherins had gone home” you noted, swerving to the side, right before a drunk and masked man got to take you down with him. 

“it might’ve looked like that” theo agreed. “but many stay for the holidays and let the houseelves bring them dinner”

“that’s possible?”

“only if your parents are heavy financers of the school, i guess” 

“hm” you nodded, following him to a table filled with drinks. “well, it’s a bit more scandalous than i would’ve thought” you muttered, watching people run to the dance floor when the first few notes of ‘you know you like it’ broke through the boxes. 

the music was electrifying and drowned out every bit of fear in your body. 

“good evening” a voice broke your gaze away from the dancing people. theo looked up too. 

a girl was standing in front of you. she was wearing a black dress with dark green details along her chest. it almost looked like a wedding dress photographed with a black and white filter. her black hair was styled in a beautiful updo, definitely with magic. you were sure not even a hairdresser could style their own hair so beautifully. 

the girls mask was in the same colour as her dress — a mix between black and green — as her dark brown eys studied both theo and you “hello pansy” you greeted. 

her eyes widened, as suprised flooded them. “and you are?” pansy parkinson asked with a hint of distrust in her voice at the sudden exposure. 

“y/n and theo” theo intervened quickly, not liking the edge in the way she was talking to you. 

“potter, huh?” pansy crossed her arms, the fabric of her dress flowing around her elbows, as she quirked a brow at your greeting. “you’re smarter than you look, love”

you ignored her, as your eyes wandered behind the girl, staying on mattheo, who was wearing a mask too, but his smug smile was the biggest giveaway in the world. “what did i tell you, pansy?” he said “she lives up to her boyfriend’s expectations, right theo?”

“um” you muttered, knowing fully well, that theo and you had not discussed anything related to your relationship status. 

theo was more relaxed than you, answering before you could make a fool out of yourself. “of course” 

both mattheo and pansy smiled in satisfaction, while your cheeks turned rosy. “would you like a drink, y/n?” pansy asked with a sudden kindness “i’m allowed to call you y/n, yeah?” 

“sure” you shrugged, not feeling like you had any right to forbid her whatsoever. “can i have one glass of this?” you pointed at a green colored bowle that honestly looked like it was the least alcoholic thing from the table. 

pansy complied, putting down the drink she had poured for herself and filled a little glass with the green liquid. 

behind your back, mattheo and theo were eagerly discussing something that didn’t reach your ears, due to the loud music — right now, the bridge of ‘you don’t own me’ was jumpin through the room, rattling the chandelier — but theo’s hand was gripping your waste, unconsciously assuring his presence. 

“here you go” pansy held the drink in your direction, you welcomed the glass, drinking a sip and scrunching your face at the horrible taste.

“is this your first slytherin party?” pansy asked as she giggled at your expression of disgust.

“it’s my first cult party, if you mean that”

pansy rolled her eyes. “the nocturne society is not a cult”

“no, you’re right” you nodded sarcastically “it’s just a very tight knit group of friends, how did i miss that before?” 

“okay” pansy breathed. “some of the members might confuse it with one” she nodded to the a group of three people, who were eagerly trying to hex tattoos of the nocturne society’s coat of armour onto their hands. 

“cults are dangerous, even if not everyone believe it is one”

“cults are dangerous, murder is bad, i know” pansy muttered, before she downed the rest of her drink “we’re no saints, but we ain’t killers either”

“maybe you aren’t”

“yeah, maybe” pansy nodded, deep in thought, her eyes wandering along the people around you. “just be careful, theo he—“ she paused, unsure if she should really finish the sentence, before she finally sighed, a soft smile on her lips, “he really likes you”

“i really like him too”

pansy squeezed your hand in a reassuring manner, sending you a look that told you again to be cautious, before she held up her arm, waving for mattheo to follow her. 

mattheo quickly excused himself from his discussion with theo, following pansy through a crowd of people, your eyes quickly losing them. 

“what was that all about?” theo asked as soon as they had disappeared. 

“i could ask you the same” you smiled michievously, taking another sip from your drink, before you finally decided it was too strong and put it down again. 

“i don’t trust them” theo shook his head, worry wandering over his face. 

“i thought mattheo was your friend?” 

“it’s not just him, it’s this whole society. how are they involved? mattheo and i always got along, yes, but i’ve always managed to stay out of his dubious plans”

“did he tell you anything useful?” you asked, not trying to discuss the future of mattheo and theo’s friendship here and now. “did he find out anything about the artifact”

“actually, yes” theo nodded, his gaze wandering into the crowd of people behind your back. 

“what is it?” you wondered, turning around and searching the people for a familiar person. 

“come on” theo motioned for you to follow him. “i think i just found someone who could help us”

he took your hand in his, dragging you a through a crowd of people. in the middle of the dancefloor, the music was somehow louder, wrapping you in a thick bubble, where the only thing you were feeling was theo’s touch. you grabbed his hand tightly, scared to lose him between this many people. 

you feared that once you would lose him, you were caught. you were sure that this whole party was magically manipulated, as to make it harder to leave. you noticed the mission theo and you had set, slipping to the back of your mind anytime the beat hit and the chandelier above you rattled. 

theo stopped when you reached a corner across the room from the table with the drinks. a guy in a suit was busy rolling himself a cigarette. his suit looked like it was made out of couch cushions, the soft material crunching at any move he made. you noticed it was dark green, but so dark that it almost looked black. 

his hair was slightly curled, dark brown and messily decorated his head. he looked up at the sound of your approaching footsteps. 

“enzo?” theo asked. 

you only recognized the boy now. he looked a lot more comfortable and relaxed when he was hiding behind a mask. 

it seemed that your company only confused enzo or you were sure he had recognized his friend sooner. “theo?” he finally asked, after he had searched the masked face in front of him. “and?”

“y/n” you quickly answered, smiling at his expression, when he sighed in relief. 

“what are you doing here?” even though it was not far to assume, enzo sounded nothing but nice as he send you a smile, surprised at your unexpected presence at this party. 

“theo brought me along” you said simply, not feeling in the mood to explain the real reason why you had come, so you put it simpler: “we wanted to ask you something, about the artifact” 

“oh” enzo pushed the finished cigarette into the pocket of his trousers. “the artifact?” he questioned, his voice losing a bit of it’s confidence. 

“do you know anything about it?” theo asked

“well, it’s not been dealt like a secret, not as much as it should've been at least” he shrugged, before he looked around, checking for any unwanted listeners. “blaise, he’s in the room behind this door” he nodded at the wall behind you, “he knows more about it”

“thank you” you smiled honestly, trying to calm the worry on his face. 

“but please don’t get careless” enzo pleaded. “i heard it’s pretty dangerous and i’ve kept out of it for the most part. but a few people were absolutely obsessed with it. too obsessed to still care about anything else”

“we know it can be dangerous” theo muttered, not impressed by the warning. 

“you don’t understand, theo” enzo shook his head, more urgency in his tone now. “it’s soul shattering. you lose a part of yourself with it. it makes you become something you wouldn’t have imagined in your worst nightmare. it could even get you to hurt a person you loved” his eyes wandered between theo and you. “love. it’s like a trigger”

“we’ll be careful, i promise” you put a hand on enzo’s shoulder, assuring your promise. 

theo and you excused yourselves, walking in the direction of the door. enzo watched after you, taking out th cigarette from his pocket. “they should’ve never brought it here” he muttered, but you were too far away to still hear him. 

the door enzo had guided you to was surprisingly easy to open. you had thought the room behind it was special, granting it a higher security than the party itself. 

the opposite was the case. the room was full of smoke, to the brim. theo and you inhaled a large amount when it wandered in your direction. 

“woah” a voice called and with a move of a wand, most of the smoke was gone. blaise zabini was laying on a red velvet couch, a blunt in his hand and surrounded by various people. he was bare chested and only still wearing the trousers of his suit. his shoes and socks were gone too. 

there was a thin layer of sweat on his dark skin and his eyes and lips were redder than normal. 

“theodore nott” he recognized immediately. “where have you been all this time?”

it slowly became clear that theo really was an outsider in his friendgroup, considering all of them seemed to be regular members of those secret parties. 

“and accompanied by y/n potter, if my eyes don’t trick me?” blaise now asked, sitting up and waving you both inside. “get lost” he told the others. the room quickly cleared out and theo closed the door, ensuring that your conversation was kept private. 

“does this even lead to something?” you asked, pointing a hand in blaise’s direction. “i mean he’s higher than a kite”

"and yet sharp as a blade" theo replied with a smirk, glancing back at blaise "don’t let his state fool you”

blaise rolled his eyes, leaning back casually “higher than a kite, maybe, but i’m still seeing straight enough to know when i've got a legend in my midst. hey ace!”

“ace?” you repeated confused. 

“you don’t get to be the reason for blaise zabini making it through divination class without earning yourself a praising nickname” theo shrugged. “he’s been calling you that ever since”

“you copied my answers?” you asked, a bit of surprise stinging in your voice. 

“pretty obvious question, huh?” blaise shrugged. he made a motion for both theo and you to sit down on the couch next to him. “so tell me, what can old blaise do for someone like ace potter, hm?”

“this is weird” you muttered, but followed his request, before theo and you explained what you were searching for and why. 

while you were talking, blaise nodded along, expertly rolling another blunt, before he lit it up, unintentionally breathing the smoke in your direction. 

your nose was fillled with the smell of weed and there was no escape in the small room. 

“i’m sorry” blaise said when theo asked him to put out the blunt. “i need this or i won’t be able to think straight”

“okay” you nodded, putting a calming hand on theo’s knee, who you felt was ready to discuss the matter. “then let’s not waste any time. what can you tell us about the artifact?”

“it didn’t work” blaise shrugged, “it was useless basically. just a dust catcher if you ask me” 

“we heard different things from enzo” 

“well, i’m sure it’s pretty dangerous once you find out how it’s activated” blaise muttered. “but we didn’t. no one could use it, it was impossible to crack. nothing we tried worked”

“what did you do with it?” 

“nothing”

“what do you mean ‘nothing’?” you almost laughed, his answer confusing you. 

“we kept it in the hope that we would find out what we could use it for. it’s in the cushion behind you.” 

theo quickly sat up straight, not wanting to disturb or destroy the artifact by leaning against it. 

“professor burbage suspected that i had stolen it. she confronted me before she died. but it was weird, really” blaise’s mind wandered off, as he let the rest of the sentence hang in the air unfinished. 

“what? why?”

“well, for starters: she didn’t even want to have it back” blaise shrugged. “she was acting strange altogether. she made me promise to be careful, but i think she wanted me to keep it and try to use it further” 

“why would a teacher want a student to keep a dangerous dark magical object? that doesn’t make any sense if you ask me” theo mumbled.

“well it doesn’t, unless she—“ you paused, thinking for a second before you finally finished the sentence. “unless she didn’t know how to use it herself”

“you could be right” theo nodded, his eyes widened. “we never found out how burbage got it into her hands in the first place. maybe you weren’t the first person to steal it, blaise”

“just for the protocol; i was not the only one involved in the um, disappearance of the artifact” 

“no one here is writing a protocol, blaise” you assured with a tap to his arm. 

“you never know who listens” blaise mumbled, the paranoia of the weed clearly setting in. 

“has someone shown any particular interest in the object or tried to take it?”

blaise shook his head. “no, not that i noticed”

“great” you smiled. “please be sure to hide it better, we don’t want anyone getting stupid ideas and going to dumbledore could lead to you leaving the school, so just keep it on the down low, yeah?”

“don’t worry, ace” blaise nodded with such a confidence you almost had to laugh. “it’s like fort knox in here.”

“sure, okay” theo nodded, standing up, but wobbling a bit. 

“are you alright?” you questioned, copying his movement, but finding yourself to be unable to stand straight. 

“it’s the weed, i think” theo mumbled and you nodded. “maybe it’s just a short effect”

the effect was anything else but short. as soon as theo and you walked, or more wobbled back onto the dancefloor, it seemed to only highten the feelings you were experiencing. 

everything he said was so so funny. the music was like a drug, you couldn’t walk away from and theo’s two heads were definitely a sight to see. 

“what was the plan?” you screamed into theo’s ear. the loudness of the music made you feel like it was coming from right next to you. 

“what?” theo called back, before he finally understood your words. “what plan?”

“uh- i forgot” you answered before you broke into a loud giggle. 

“let’s dance” theo encouraged, taking your hand in his and bringing your bodies closer together.

you recognized the song that was playing as ‘meddle about’ and theo smiled, because he reconized it too. 

the dancefloor was quickly filled with even more people that had the sudden need to dance to the intoxicating music. the chandelier glistened in a intense green and if you weren’t mistaken, it flashed a lighter tone with each beat. someone had hexed it to fit the music playing perfectly.

theo and you moved effortlessly. it felt like you had no real control over your body, as you lost yourself in a haze of sweaty and hot bodies. the light made the scenery feel ethereal. 

theo’s chest was warm as your hands pressed against him. he held you close by your waste, the fabric of your dress not able to lighten the heat of his touch. 

he smirked down at you, when you threw your head back, your hair falling out of the clip you had secured it with. theo caught it effortlessly, clasping it around his belt. 

his hand didn’t go back to it’s original position on your waste, but wandered to your neck, lifting your head up, so that your eyes met his. his face looked heavenly in the green light illuminating it. his skin looked like porcellain and the usual blue of his eyes was a mirror to everything playing out before you, you even noticed your own face in them. 

“that’s me—“ you pointed to his left eye as theo brought you close in the same second, connecting your mouths and interrupting the rest of your sentence. 

his lips were soft and just as hot as the bodies surrounding you. he tasted of nicotine and if you weren’t mistaken you tasted a hint of blaise’s weed you both had inhaled, but maybe that was only due to your own state of intoxication. 

theo’s hands wandered through your hair, tilting your head to bring you even closer to him. you found help in his tie, your hand clasping around it like a lifeline as your knees got weak at the way he was kissing you. 

you felt yourself fall deeper and deeper into the haze as theo’s lips intoxicated your body even further, but you were interrupted by a loud snapping sound. 

you broke the kiss. “what was that?” you muttered against his mouth. it looked like no one around you had heard what you had, maybe they were even further gone than you. 

“i don’t care” theo mumbled, pushing his mouth to yours again.

“no” you said when he began kissing you neck. there was the sound again. “theo, we have to stop”

“no, why—“

“we’re falling for it” you quickly said, holding his face in your hands. you quickly noticed the redness in his eyes. “it’s not real, theo, we have to wake up” 

theo ignored what you were saying and tried to kiss you again, but you quickly swerved to the side. that seemed to have been enough for him to fall out of his own trance. “what—where?” 

“yeah, i know, we—“ the snapping sound repeated for a third time. now louder, more urgent. you searched the room for a hint where it was coming from, when your eyes finally wandered to the ceiling above you. 

your eyes widened. three of the five strings that were holding the chandelier had snapped. it was hanging dangerously to the side, only waiting for the other two strings to break. 

“the chandelier” you said and theo understood immediately, helping you to push the people away. 

you had reacted at the right time. just a second after you had pushed the last guy away, the fourth and fifth string snapped at the same time, sending the chandelier flying down. 

theo and you, having been the last people in the middle, dashed to the side. he pressed you body to his chest, as you watched the chandelier fall apart right in front of your feet. 

a few seconds went by without anything happening. 

1, 2, 3. when finally loud screaming broke out and everyone fell into a similar panic. the people began running to every side, while theo and you stood in the middle of the room, watching the chaos around you unfold. 

people were screaming all sorts of things. from ‘oh my god, so close!’ to ‘someone just tried murdering me’

you continued standing still, quickly realizing that it was to no use to throw yourself into the panicking crowd. bodies hit you as they ran through the room without care and theo and you could only wait and hold each other until the panic had calmed down. 

a body collided with yours, almost pulling your hand along as they ran around you. theo caught you, pulling you back. you watched after the figure in confusion.

“what is it?” theo muttered, noticing the room had calmed down as the guests were pouring out of the room. he walked you both to the wall, away from the leaving crowd. 

held up your hand between his and your body, revealing the content inside. it was a crumpled up piece of paper the unfamiliar person had given you admist the chaos. 

theo furrowed his brows, taking the paper from you and folding it open, reading the words written inside of it: “humpty dumpty sat on a wall, humpty dumpty had a great fall. all the king’s horses and all the king’s men”

you looked at him, waiting for him to finish. nothing happened. “couldn’t put humpty together again?” 

“yeah” theo nodded, “but it doesn’t say that” he held the paper in your direction, showing you how the rhyme ended in the middle of the last verse. 

“what does that even mean?” 

“i have no idea” theo pushed the paper into the pocket of his trousers, “but i say we get out of here. we cannot be sure the noise hasn’t triggered a tearchers attention”

“yeah” you nodded. you looked behind you at the door that was hiding both blaise and probably the most dangerous artifact in the whole castle, debating if you should warn him. the door flew open, revealing blaise leaning in the doorway. 

he waved at you, clearly less intoxicated, and watched as theo walked you out of the room. 

“despite how the night ended it was pretty successful, right?” 

“you think so?” theo asked surprised. “i wouldn’t say we found out a lot” 

“well, i’m pretty sure that we can rule out the artifact as a motive. i mean she didn’t even want it back, it would’ve been easy enough to steal it from the professor, but blaise is basically no threat if the killer was really trying to get to the artifact”

“yeah, you’re right” theo nodded. “if the artifact was the motive, there would've been a murder, so it’s basically a false lead”

“maybe an intentional false lead” you thought aloud. “remember who first mentioned it?”

“mattheo” theo muttered, realizing it had been his friend who had first brought up the existence of a dangerous dark magical artifact. 

“but mattheo isn’t the killer” you quickly assured. 

“how can you be so sure?” he challenged, skepticism dancing in his eyes.

“well, first of all: it’s mattheo we’re talking about” you replied, shaking your head. “he isn’t stupid, and he doesn’t even have a motive. why would he risk an unnecessary murder when he gets absolutely nothing from it? no, the killer had a reason. a good reason.”

“something that warrants a murder?”

“no” you shook your head. “something that requires a murder”

“a point of no return?”

“exactly” you nodded. 

the both of you were walking down the corridor to the gryffindor common room, theo not leaving you alone until he was sure you were safe. you had made a stop at the room of requirement, switching back into your normal clothes, as to not reveal where you had been the whole evening.

“i know it’s not really the right time, but i just wanted to tell you that i had a great time, apart from all the drug intoxication and us nearly being killed by the chandelier, thanks for saving me by the way”

you smiled at him, stopping in the middle of the hallway as you looked at each other. “i couldn’t have imagined better company than you, theo nott”

“don’t flatter me, sparrow. you’re the most—“

the portrait to the common room flew open, revealing an angry harry potter. he was red in the face as he walked in your direction with an urgency you had never seen before. 

hermione almost fell as she tumbled out of the portrait behind him. she looked even worse. the buttons on her cardigan were only halfway done, missing out one completely as it hung to the side. her face was as red as harry’s but not from anger. the reason for it were the tears on her face, sobs shaking her whole body as she tried reaching for harry’s arm. 

“i couldn’t stop him” she sobbed, trying her best to hold him back from theo and you. “i’m sorry” 

“what?” you muttered confused “what happened?”

theo was less relaxed than you, quickly interpreting the scene, knowing clearly well hermione would’ve never revealed your secret. “what did you do to her potter?” he stepped in front of you protectively, softly pushing hermione behind him at the same time. 

“what have i done to her?” harry huffed unbelieving. “what have you done to my sister?” 

“harry, please i can—“

“no, you can’t” harry shook his head. “i have been worried sick. there’s been a murder and you’re nowhere to be found, running around with him. he is part of the people we once stayed clear off, remember”

“harry, please don’t—i mean burbage, she—“ 

harry shook his head and you had to look around theo’s body to make out his expression,  the surprise in his eyes making your eyes widen, while hermione was hanging on your arm like it was a lifeline. 

“i’m not talking about burbage”

“what?” you muttered in shock, stepping around theo to fully look at your brother, hermione right by your side. “where is ron?”

you could feel hermione shook her head. 

“it’s not ron” harry declared and your breath calmed down for just a second, before he added “it’s neville”

hermione sobbed again. tears shimmered in your eyes, while you grabbed theo’s arm as not fall to the ground. you felt like you couldn’t breathe, the air being sucked from your lungs completely. 

“longbottom?” theo almost whispered. even he was shocked at the revelation. none of you could even think about what would qualify neville as a murder victim. he was never involved in anything remotely bad. he always stayed clear of danger or forbidden stuff. how could someone even if think about—

“hermione found him in the library” harry’s voice was alot calmer now, realizing your obvious shock to the situation and deciding there was no use in screaming at you now. you outstretched your arm, pulling hermione close. she hid her face in your shoulder, as both of you cried together. “this was in his hand. she thought you might want to see it, so she made a copy” he held a little piece of paper in theo’s direction, who quickly took it. 

“how?” you whispered, while theo was staring at the writing. 

“stabbed” harry’s voice broke, as he looked to the ground. he cleared his throat, taking hermione from your arms and walking her back to the portrait. “please come inside now” he demanded, but his voice was only so much as a whisper, defeat swinging along in his tone. 

you nodded quickly, ready to follow behind them, when theo held you back. “wait”

and with that he held the paper in your direction, the one neville had held in his hand when he died. you looked at him, silently asking if that was really important now, when he nodded down at it. 

your eyes fell on theo’s hand, the veins popping out through the hard grasp he had on the paper. his hand was shaking, nerves playing out as he recited the earlier message you had received in the ballroom: “humpty dumpty sat on a wall, humpty dumpty had a great fall. all the king’s horses and all the king’s men..”

your gaze froze on the words, reading what was written on neville’s paper.

“..couldn’t put humpty together again”

🏷️ : @melsunshine @shereadsandcries @ch3rry-lips @the-sylver-dragon @mayamonroem @allurearia @prongsprincessworld @brokenpoetliz @winterbarnesblog @cowboy-luvr @ahead-fullofdreams @mietlynn @too-efn-old-to-be-here @insideoutjulie @dvartesgfs @chimchoom @eggsysstuff @uku-lelevillain @lexi2005 @folklcv4r @lovrsm @esmerai-artemis @lia-2008 @liataylorsversion @mysummerwinesblog @reverse-soe @thestrawberrythatgotaway @maxsisly

let me know if you want to be added/removed

ps: there will be one more chapter, but surprise: there will be a seventh one: an epilogue!!

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

thinking about washing spencer reid’s hair

being a hairdresser with a client that keeps coming back to you for the same treatment. fem!reader, 753wc

As a hairdresser, you get many clients and visitors - all of whom you've grown to know well over the years. You would chat in friendly conversation with the ladies in your chair, asking them about their lives and families as you refresh their hair colour. 

You were familiar with all your clients. All except one who would pop in sporadically - with no particular promise of their return.

Finishing up on an older lady's curly-do, you glance over to the seating area, spotting him in an armchair by the window, book in hand, brown satchel laid across his lap. You meet his gaze, a soft smile tugging on the corners of your lips.

You turn your attention back to the lady in the mirror, watching her playful expression widen when she follows your eyeline. "What a handsome man," she whispers, talking to you in the reflection. "Get in there quickly... before I do."

"Steady there," you giggle at her antics, grin widening. "Your husband is only in the store next door."

She mumbles dismissively, gesturing with her hands as he snickers. "Oh, Albert knows what I'm like."

"Better keep you on a leash, hm?" you laugh as you untie the gown, helping her stand. "You wait over there, okay? Albert will be back for you in no time," you smile down at her, guiding her towards the seating area.

You turn to look at your next client, his warm gaze already on you. "Your usual, Spencer?" you ask sweetly, features mirroring his. 

"Uh— yes, please," he nods, slinging his bag over his shoulder - following behind you. 

You lead Spencer to the back of the salon with the basins, wrapping a gown over his front and a towel over his shoulders - helping him back comfortably into the seat. Turning on the water, you guide the head over his scalp, carefully wetting his hair.

"Is the temperature okay?" you ask. "Not too hot?"

"Yeah, no, that's perfect," his mouth faintly curling up at the sides. "It's perfect," he closes his eyes, tilting his head back.

You weakly chuckle to yourself, an all-too-familiar smile creeping on your face. "Did you like that shampoo last time, or do you want to try something new?"

"The same one— I quite liked the coconut." 

You pump the shampoo into your hands, rubbing it in a lather before applying it to his scalp, gently scrubbing it in - being mindful of his sensitivity. Massaging his head with sturdy fingers, you glance down at him, taking note of his sweet features - how they almost soften and melt under your touch. 

You've never felt this way about a client before - sure, most of them are middle-aged women, but with Spencer, it was different. He would come into the salon for the same simple treatment every time—a wash and dry—requesting you specifically on the days you were available. The fact he would come to a woman’s salon and book for you every time was enough to cause a swell in your heart.

Turning your attention back to Spencer in your chair, you rinse and repeat - now working conditioner into his curly, messy ends. Looking down at him, you meet his gaze again, his soft hazels admiring you before they bashfully divert away. 

Finishing up in the wash station, you lead him to your chair, nodding for him to sit. "Can I get you a drink? Coffee?"

"The way you always make it?" he softly smiles at you in the reflection, his face almost lighting up. 

"Of course," you mirror his expression. "I'll even make it in that mug you like."

Giving him one quick nod, you head off to the room out back, filling the purple mug with a fresh pot of coffee - adding in the extras he seems to love. Returning with a cup in hand and a smile on your face, you place it on the table beside him and move behind to make a start on drying his hair.

Guiding your fingers through his damp, soft curls, you meet his eyes for another time, his lips parting momentarily. His mouth shuts, stopping himself short. He looked as though he was about to ask you something - a question, maybe. Something important. 

And as you ponder his potential question, he interrupts your thinking, his gentle voice cutting through your short spiral of thoughts. 

"I uh— I was actually hoping you're free after your shift tonight. I'd love to finally take you out for dinner."

had this idea spring up and it didn’t turn out the way I wanted it. but no point deleting it, so might as well post💌

^ also clearing out drafts

[kuroppiii]

HI HIHIII!! i have a silly request if you dont mind ×_×

there are a few haikyuu boys with longer hair (kenma, bokuto(?) etc.) and i wanted to see some reactions if gn!reader were to put pigtails in their hair heheheh

idk if this is more of headcanons than a drabble but youre the writer so please choose what u think is right T_T

fluff pleaseee >3< thats it!!!! cheers ro!!! laters!!!!

- 🍸 (begging for this emoji pretty pretty please with a huge cherry on top)

  hairdresser ᵕ̈        hq boys ( kenma , bokuto ,        kuroo , sakusa , asahi , yamaguchi ,        suna ) x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : putting long-haired   ⋮⋮  hq boys in pigtails

📋 content     ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮     ♡ # 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 🥛     ♡ # 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 🥛     ♡ # ~3.4𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴     ♡ # 𝘤𝘸 : 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘶'𝘴

🧸 directory ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii ─ “ hello my new 🍸 anon (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ this idea is SO CUTE tysm for suggesting it . sorry it took a bit but i did both hcs and drabbles , just for you xoxo ”

︴kozume kenma ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧��°  

he doesn't know why you want to but he lets you anyway

i'd say, in high school at least, he doesn't really put his hair up (obvi since he doesn't do it during matches) because he doesn't know how he feels about how it makes him look in public

but when he's at home he'll def put it up if it's getting in his way of his video games

he actually has hairties strewn about his room, but for some reason they're like all different brands lol

"sometimes i run out and just grab the first one i see getting off the train."

you grab one that's hanging off the corner of his pc

"pfft didn't know you liked kuromi like that"

"oh that... that actually came from a set with a my mel tie..."

so OF COURSE you track down the my melody pair and start to comb through his blonde hair

he plays a game but asks you what his next moves should be in-game now and then to stay engaged with you, as you sit behind him and pigtail his hair

tbh i think his hair would feel dead af from the bleach as you style it but its ok you still love him!!!

"okay, done!" you open up your phone camera and hold it out in front of kenma. he quickly pauses his game and lightly grasps your hand holding the phone as he checks himself out.

"hm... i look ridiculous," he chuckles, "i look like a 5-year-old girl."

"yeah i don't think kuromi and my mel are helping with that, either," you joke. kenma shakes his head around for the two pigtails to swing about his head, the little character charms on the hairties clinking about and making you burst out in laughter. you try to line up your phone to take a picture of him, but he catches you in the act.

he gently swats your arm away and swaps the phone in your hand with his hand in the process, "babe, noo."

"just one? please?" you pry.

he shakes his head and takes your hand up to his lips, kissing it but mumbling out against it a firm...

"no."

"ken."

his eyes are still glued to the screen...

"no."

"with a cherry on top?"

he turns and leaves a quick kiss on your lips, looking into your eyes before whispering...

"no."

despite all his protests, though, rest assured you walked away that night with a new photo in your favorites album: kenma covering his face with his controller with the purple and pink sanrio bunnies holding up two blonde pigtails on the top of his head.

but that was inevitable, he could never resist his baby for too long.

︴bokuto kōtarō ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°  

"anything you want babe!!"

anything to spend time with his favorite person

theres too much fucking gel in his hair so you send him to the bathroom to water it down a bit

he comes out with his hair all wet and dripping and over his eyes screaming

"um, kō... did you even dry your- your hair...? baby it's getting all over the floor"

"oh! oh yeah, sorry about that babe, i'll do that right now for you"

but you see a glint in his pretty golden eyes

the fucking brat

he shakes his head like a dog, hitting you with water and you squeal at him to "go use a towel, idiot!"

nonetheless, once you put him in pigtails, he takes a look at the grey and black sprigs coming out from his head in the reflection of his phone screen and can't help but let out a hearty laugh

"this is great y/n, do another one on me, wouldy'a?"

"wait, really?"

"yes! plus, you like this stuff, right? if you're having fun then make me beautiful, beautiful."

he lets you take a few pictures before you hand him your phone to look for other hairstyles, & he takes the phone with a quick kiss to your lips

he scrolls on your phone trying to find a new hairstyle to have you do as you start undoing the ponytails on his head. his hair dried a bit while the pigtails were in, so you run your hand through his hair and ruffle it up a little bit to get rid of the indent the hairties made.

"oh! what about this one," bokuto beams, holding up a pinterest pin of a manbun, "do you think i got enough hair for you to do it?"

you take your phone back to get a better look at it as bokuto tries to gather up as much of his hair in his two hands and hold it up in an... attempt at a manbun.

you look at him and feel laughter bubble up in your chest, but you manage to make out a, "well we can certainly try, kō."

"really? can we?" he smiles at you. you nod and bokuto dives in to kiss you through your giggling. after a moment, you feel the still-damp ends of his hair fall to brush against your forehead, as his hands go from holding his makeshift manbun up to gently holding the face of his one and only love.

︴kuroo tetsurō ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°  

yeah no this loser definitely has a thing when it comes to people touching his hair

like a DEFENSIVE thing bc no one can convince me it's NOT the longest part of his morning routine

so it takes some convincing but he finally caves bc it's you the love of his life

"fine! but just this once!"

once again, gotta water down the gel

but this time he's like,,, weirdly embarrassed?? and shy?? and cute?? about the fact you're seeing him with his hair wet and undone like this

"baby you cannot tell anyone you saw me like this"

"aww but tetsu you look just as handsome like that"

"ok so we're lying now, i see how it is"

so you sit crossed-legged in front of each other on the floor, and you have him hold the comb and hairties

he sits there all pouty as he has to bend down a bit for you to reach his hair bc he's so tall end me

NO PICTURES!!! the bastard even tries to hide your phone

"tetsu! give it back!" you complain. you've crawled into his lap and yet his arm still holds your phone too high up and out of your reach. "i swear i won't post it anywhere–just one picture, please?"

"absolutely not!" he says through a chuckle. he cranes his neck up and uses your phone to look at his own reflection. he groans at the sight of his spikey locks sticking out from the two pigtails on his head.

"babe," he whines, "this is really messing with my self image."

"yeah right, as if the rest of you isn't literally perfect."

"not true! as long as my hair is concerned right now. but y'know what?" he finally brings your phone back down to his side but holds the side of your face with his free hand.

"what," you deadpan, before trying to quickly grab your phone back. but to your dismay, he holds it out behind his back and out of your reach once again as he continues.

"i'd feel a bit better if i could get a kiss. just a little one," he mumbles with that shit-eating grin you can't help but love, "who knows, maybe i'll feel so much better that i can give your phone back."

"and let me take a picture?" you ask hopefully.

he looks into your eyes and starts to caresses your cheekbone with his thumb, "well... that might depend on how good this kiss goes, yeah?"

least to say you got your photo, and then some other perks while you were at it.

︴sakusa kiyoomi ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°  

"omi, i don't think i've ever seen you with your hair up–"

"i put it up when i have to clean."

"oh right!"

you just never noticed because he wears a little bandana on top of it too cutie pie

but when you ask to put his curls in two little pigtails it takes a little bit of convincing

no one's ever really touched his hair before

he's the biggest sucker for you though so eventually he lets you have your way with him

and surprisingly, he feels so loved having his hair played with by your beautiful self and you just look so cute as you do it and you talk to him about the most generic things that this guy starts to get antsy

like i'm talking hands all over your legs and waist as you're sitting in front of him and as he's starting at you with literal heart eyes

he just needs to hold you you're so adorable to him rn

you can really see his two beauty marks with his hair pulled up and you give them a little kiss when you're finished

"look at him komori," you coo, facing sakusa's phone camera toward him with his cousin on the other end of the line. you had called komori to show off your work, but sakusa couldn't care less as he clings to you now that you're finally finished doing his hair.

"wow cous', this is definitely a new look for you," the brunette giggles through the phone. sakusa tries to hide his face in your neck and groans,

"don't you have anything better to do, motoya? bye."

and with that, sakusa takes hold of your hand and hangs up the call on his phone.

"i quite like it, omi! your cousin agrees with me too," you tease. sakusa can't help but chuckle lightly as his arms wrap around your torso tighter. you can feel the smile creep onto his lips against the skin of your collarbone.

"yeah, whatever. we can do this more often, i guess," he sighs, "the you-playing-with-my-hair thing, not the my-cousin-being-involved thing, mind you."

︴azumane asahi ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°  

omg shut up i will always have a soft spot for this man

ofc since his hair is very much on the long side, he already puts his hair up in a simple ponytail or the occasional manbun from time to time

so yes he agrees to the idea when you bring it up, even if it’s a different style than he’s accustomed to

he didn't think it was gonna be that much of a big deal, after all, he's tied his own hair thousands of times

what he didn’t realize, however, is how different the experience is when you’re the one combing your hands through his hair MMMM

he's absolute putty in your hands shut upppp

deliberately pulls out some strands so you have to sit there and play with his hair longer

"love i think you missed a spot."

"i literally saw you pull that piece out."

he’s between your legs on the floor as you sit on the couch, the volleyball highlights he was watching on his phone still running but now long-forgotten. he uncontrollably tilts his head back with every move you make as you run your hands along his hair, parting it and smoothing it down where necessary.

“‘sahi stop moving,” you giggle. all he can do is hum in bliss as you try to get his hair together amidst him leaning into your touch every other second.

"love, is the first one done yet?" he asks innocently, eyes closed, as if his scheming hasn't costed you an extra 20 minutes or so trying to fix his hair up.

"just keep watching your highlights and keep your head still!" you plea with a hairtie between your teeth, finally managing to gather one half of his hair into a ponytail. and just as you were ready to stretch the hairtie out and make the first loop around the bunch of wavy brown hair that you had in your hand, asahi just so happens to readjust how he's sitting beneath you, making some locks fall out from your grasp.

"asahi!" you let go off the hair and draw out a frustrated sigh. you can hear him chuckle as he leans his head against your thigh, turning his head to look up at you.

his hand is already guiding your dejected one back towards his hair, "oops, sorry angel. i guess you'll have to start all over again."

︴yamaguchi tadashi ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°  

how could he ever say no to you

i think esp senior captain!tadashi started on the habit of tying his hair back for games hot, so he actually does have a few hair ties on hand

but if you use hairties you KNOW he keeps some of yours on his own wrist in case you ever need one (🤭), even if not using them on your own hair like right now

he’s very well behaved as he sits on the toilet seat while you stand in front of him between his legs and get to work

the little piece of hair that sticks out from the top of his head is a pain in the ass tho

every time you think you've successfully smoothed it down, it springs back up again

meanwhile to pass the time, his hands rest on your hips as he asks you about your day, about what shows you’ve been watching recently—anything under the sun

"what happened then? tell me more sweetheart."

in the lulls of your conversation you can feel his thumbs lovingly glide back and forth along your hips im dying i love him

you stand behind yamaguchi in the cramped bathroom, him hunched over the sink as he observes himself and the new look you’ve given him.

you watch him through the mirror as he holds back a smile. his hand reaches about to touch the points at which the tips of his olive hear sprig out from the pigtails of your doing, his stomach peeking out from his worn out white tshirt as it lifts a little at the careful movements he makes.

he finally breaks the silence “yeah… i wouldn’t go out like this anytime soon.”

the two of you can’t help but burst out in laughter, at how ridiculous he looks and the ridiculous way you two have just passed the evening. the sound echoes along the tiled walls of the bathroom.

as your laughter dies down, yamaguchi turns and wraps those same arms that were poking at the pigtails in his hair, around your waist.

he pulls you close, “but they look good, love. maybe just not for me."

you look up at him and he swears he can see a universe of stars in your eyes, "you really think so tada? they were kind of rushed..."

"of course!" he leans his forehead to yours and touches his nose to yours, "maybe we can open a hair salon for you to hone your skills."

his comment makes you giggle, and he can't help but lean in closer to give your smiling lips a quick peck.

︴suna rintarō ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°  

you knew the only way you could achieve getting pigtails on this guy was by ambushing him

"zzz.."

so as he's dozed off on the bed, you slowly maneuver your way behind him

mf's a heavy sleeper so you eventually realize you actually don't have to be super gentle as you pull his hair into two little ponytails

his hair's already parted down the middle so it's pretty easy

goddamn is his hair silky smooth

you gotta ask for what products he uses bc holy shit why's he been gatekeeping them from you

i feel like his hair is long enough that actually they kind of sag down once you put them up in little curves coming out the top of his head like a bunny!!

but just as you're looping the hairtie one more time around the second pigtail, you accidentally pull on it a bit too hard and it quickly snaps against the top of his head ouch lmao

suna groans as he starts to shift and stir awake at the feeling of his head getting bonked. you have to restrain yourself from laughing as he absent-mindedly reaches back to see who it is that woke him up from his nap, hand slowly patting down your side. even through his sleepy haze, he can tell it's you and he lightly hums in contentment before turning around and engulfing you in his arms.

"sorry, rin, i didn't mean to wake you," you whisper.

for a brief moment as he's cuddling into you, he opens an eye to see your face. though you were trying hard to contain them, your laughter starts to escape between your upturned lips and suna's brows furrow in confusion. what's so funny?

he leans back again to find his phone on the bedside table and you watch as he catches a glimpse of his new hairdo before he can check the time.

all you hear is him mumbling something along the lines of, "you're something else," before he's plopping his phone down onto the sheets and he's tucking his head under your chin.

the two pigtails tickle your face like feathers as your ears begin to pick up on the sound of light snores as suna peacefully dozes off once again.

︴oikawa tōru ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°  

i also think he has really silky hair duh but he's definitely shared what products he uses with you

in fact he asks that you use some of the products from his bathroom when you tie his hair

"gotta do these locks justice, baby."

the whole time he's got a little smile on his face, mf is having the time of his life–getting his hair done and being close with the most precious person in the world to him? uhhh YES

he highkey whines about you pulling at his hair tho

"owwiee"

"oh suck it up tōru."

offers to do your hair as well crying

very gentle as he combs through your hair, too!! shit's calming asf, him humming a little tune as you tell him about your day and he lovingly runs his hands through your hair

when he's done doing your hair you take selfies together on his phone

definitely makes one of them his new phone background

pigtails out of yours and oikawa's hair, you're cleaning up the products and hairties scattered across the bedsheets when you accidently brush over the screen of oikawa's phone. the screen lights up with one of the photos you just took with him: you both winking at the camera with pigtails sticking out from the tops of your heads. there's some digital stickers he selected scattered about the photo, as well (a lot of hearts and flowers). he's in another room getting the two of you a snack.

"tōru! can you come over here real quick?"

you hear the pitter-patter of his footsteps as he rushes back to you with chips and drink cans in his hands, "what's up, precious?"

his phone in your hand, you hold it up to him for the screensaver to appear again, "are you serious? did you have to pick this one?"

at that instant he doubles over in laughter, so much so he embraces his arms around your head and falls onto the mattress again, making you both lay down next to each other. he moves his hands to hold your face, "what, why such the long face? you don't like it?"

"no... it's just that everyone who picks up your phone is gonna see it now," you explain, starting to laugh yourself because this boy's laugh is irresistibly contagious.

he leans in to give butterfly kisses to your nose, "yeah, that's kind of the point my love. want everyone to know how happy i am when i'm with you. don't we look so happy in that picture?"

you roll your eyes and reach up to play with his hair again as you two lay there in love, "i guess. but i can't believe you look better in pigtails than i do!"

"i look good a lot of the time," he jokes. his eyes drift down to your lips and after a beat, he presses his lips to yours briefly.

"but not even i can be more beautiful as you are all of the time."

[mypoisonedvine]

emmet or bearded cillian who is dads best friend but is also a mechanic or something and he fixes your car and u thought it would be free but he wants a specific form of payment IF U CATCH MY DRIFT and everything is dirty and grimmy and maybe against the side of the car or inside whatever you like

i love your writing so so much im yelling any time you post something new, have a good day <3

THIS IS SO EMMETT CODED OMFG IT'S PERFECT

length: 1.7k

warnings: SMUT (18+ only!!), unspecified age gap (but everybody is an adult), semi-public sex, oral f receiving, creampie

"Well, I think she'll live," he announced with a laugh as he stood up, wiping oil-covered hands on a rag. "Just needs a new spark plug and probably a patch on the fluid exchange."

You chewed your lip as you pretended not to be a total idiot about cars. "How much is that gonna put me out for?"

He waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about that too much, honey. Your dad's a good friend, we'll just call it even."

"No, Em," you sighed, stepping closer to him-- having to walk carefully so you wouldn't trip on any toolboxes left out on the garage floor. "Come on, let me at least pay for the parts or something."

He shook his head, giving you one of those smiles that melted your heart just a bit. "You've been too good to me already, sweetheart. Don't worry about me."

You felt a little awkward, realizing he was referring to how you'd helped him after his ex-wife moved out. There wasn't much you could do, of course, but you'd tried to show your support-- first by bringing some food over, first a casserole and then allegedly 'extra' cookies, even though you were a little worried he'd be offended by the possible suggestion that he couldn't cook for himself. Then, you'd given him advice on how to keep the zinnias out front alive, since their normal caretaker was too busy running away to California with her hairdresser to water them. He seemed to appreciate that, and your heart might have skipped a beat when your hands brushed against his while you were gardening together.

(Um, it was a male hairdresser, by the way. Not that it matters a whole lot...)

Maybe you would let him give you free work on your car, if you didn't happen to know that the auto shop was struggling at the moment. Sure, you figured he'd give you a deal, because that was just who he was, but you never expected to take his time and spare parts for nothing in return. "Em, please," you frowned, leaning against the hood of your car just after he'd shut it. "Let me make it up to you-- you're working so hard for me."

As his eyes fell on you, you suddenly noticed a new darkness in them; he was looking you up and down, making you shudder slightly as he leaned closer. "Jus' tryin' to take care of you, honey," he said, a little softer, and you fought the urge to bite your lip. "Can't let you drive around town in somethin' that might break down any minute."

"Well, I can't let you eat TV dinners every night," you smiled in reply. "How about I pay you back in meals, hm? You liked the chicken casserole, right?"

"Yeah, you're a good cook," he relented, "I guess I can't turn down an offer like that, can I?"

"Good," you grinned, "then I'll bring something over tonight."

"But what if I'm hungry for somethin' else?"

You got a little shaky all of a sudden, and tried not to get your hopes up-- you were probably imagining the sultry tone to his voice...

"Somethin' a little sweeter than casserole," he added, closing the space between you and lifting your chin so you would look up at him.

"...cookies?" you wondered with a weak voice, and he laughed softly.

"Don't get me wrong," he replied, "your cookies are great. But I think you know that's not what I'm talkin' about."

You didn't know how to respond to that... you weren't even sure if you supposed to respond. Apparently, he got whatever he needed just from looking into your eyes.

"Sit on the hood, honey."

He knelt in front of you as you did what you were told; he kept his eyes locked with yours as long as he could, until he started to spread your legs slowly and his gaze had to dart down under your dress.

"Oh, sweetheart," he sighed heavily, making you struggle not to press your thighs together to satisfy your sudden desire for friction. "Look at those cute little panties-- can I take 'em off for you?"

"Y-yes, please," you nodded, and he gave you a little smile as he reached up under your dress to slowly-- so painfully slowly-- pull them down your thighs.

You opened your legs perhaps a bit too eagerly once he'd slipped the panties off around your shoes and stuffed them into his pocket-- yes, you'd noticed that-- and he bit his lip at the sight, pushing your dress up just enough to get a good view. "Baby," he growled, "you're just too perfect."

You thought maybe he'd ask again, like he had before he took off your panties-- maybe just because he knew you'd say yes. But he didn't: he just dove right in all of a sudden, making you gasp and moan as his tongue and lips explored all over you.

He devoured you with every lap, humming and moaning between those beautifully filthy, wet noises the whole ordeal created.

"P-please," you gasped, running your fingers through his long, wavy hair.

"Oh, honey," he groaned proudly, pulling back slightly to look up at you before delivering a gentle peck to your swollen clit. "You sound too cute when you're beggin'."

Going back in again, he sucked harder on your clit until your thighs instinctively clamped down on his head-- which didn't deter him at all, anyway. "E-Emmett, fuck, just like that--" you choked out, holding tighter to his hair, "oh fuck!"

Groaning encouragingly, he slid his tongue inside you and shut his eyes tight as you started to rock your hips on his face.

He found a pattern pretty quickly, holding you steady by your thighs so he could force every sensation on you; he teased your opening with his tongue, but focused mostly on your clit until you were shaking all over. You kept trying to tell him you were going to come, but it was obvious by how hard you struggled to put a sentence together. When you did come on his tongue, it was quieter than you expected-- a silent scream, which broke into a long, low moan when you were actually able to breathe again.

His tongue on your clit became too much all of a sudden, and your hand in his hair started to push him away. Thankfully, he did stop, and you started to slowly come back to reality.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he stood up to face you again, starting to open his jeans quickly.

"Fuck, Em," you panted as you tried to catch your breath, blinking the blur out of your eyes to get a better view of his proud, tilted grin. "What'd you do that for?"

"Just needed to hear you scream, princess," he winked, reaching into his boxers. "And I figured I won't last long when I'm inside ya, anyway-- s'been a while..."

He pulled his cock out of his pants, instantly pressing the tip up to you and lining himself with your opening.

"And I like the idea of still being able to smell your pussy in my beard tomorrow," he added, just before he slid inside your waiting channel.

He grunted as he filled you, head falling back with a heavy sigh through his nose. "O-oh," you choked out, grabbing one of his shoulders to stay stable as he started to move.

"God, baby," he purred, "I was right-- fuck, I won't last. Sorry, but I've been waitin' too damn long..."

You wanted to tell him that you didn't care-- that you actually thought it was insanely sexy how affected he was by all this-- but when you opened your mouth, you could only moan desperately. Your previous orgasm had left your insides all sticky and sensitive, every thrust overwhelming you with tension and friction. And thank god for how wet it had made you, too, or you might have had more trouble fitting his generous girth inside you...

"Knew you'd be so good for me," he grunted, "such a good girl-- wanted you for so long, honey."

You whimpered behind a bitten lip, blinking up at him expectantly. "How long?"

He smirked a little, before leaning in to kiss your neck playfully-- teasing your pulse with the very tip of his tongue. "I shouldn't say," he mumbled.

"Please," you gasped, "god, Em-- I gotta know..."

"Before the divorce," was all he'd say, but that was enough to make you quiver inside-- you'd always wondered, hoped, that he shared your interest, but you had spent most of your time pretending you didn't have a crush on him since he was closer to your dad's age and, you know, married. At the time. "She used to get mad at me when she caught me lookin' at you," he admitted with a low chuckle that made chills run up your spine in delight. "She was jealous of how fuckin' pretty you are... how sweet you are... how good you are..."

"Emmett," you whimpered, clinging to him tighter, "Em, please, I'm so close--"

"Fuck, baby, g'na come again?" he taunted with a grin, one of his hands tightening its grip on your waist. "Go ahead, honey, give my cock a nice li'l squeeze, huh?"

"Yes, fuck, yes," you gasped. "Fuck!"

"Not too loud, sweetheart," he warned, "got another mechanic in the other garage-- don't want him hearin' you... don't want anyone hearin' those pretty sounds but me, okay, princess?"

But he found a much more reliable way to shut you up: he kissed you, hard and desperate, and you moaned against his lips as you tasted yourself on his tongue. Your whimpers of his name were almost unintelligible as he kissed you, but he clearly understood them: he fucked you harder, faster, deeper, grunting promises to come inside you and leave you dripping with his come for the rest of the night. You encouraged him as best you could while being totally speechless-- and with a whine, you came around him just before he filled you with a gruff purr of his own.

Sighing, he dropped his head onto your shoulder, running his fingers down your back through your dress to make you shiver in his arms one more time. "Beautiful," he praised under his breath, kissing softly beside your ear. "So beautiful, honey..."

You smiled softly, wrapping your arms around him in a lazy embrace. "You're the one that's too good to me, Em," you whispered. "When did you figure out I had a crush on you?"

"Sometime after you brought me the casserole, but before you came on my face."

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

hello! im not sure if your requests are open rn, but could you maybe write a drabble about satan cutting mc's hair? something like satan being nervous but mc reassuring them through out. gn!mc in particular. (i requested this from someone else but they're inactive rn. so i decided to request it from you instead, hope you dont mind 🙏). thank you in advance if you do!

Hello! Thanks for your request and I certainly don't mind. It was really cute writing this so I hope you enjoy it.

Summary: MC asks Satan to help them cut their hair which he is nervous about but MC reassures him.

Contains: Fluff

GN!MC x Satan

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

Nervous Satan cutting MC's hair.

It was a regular day in the Devildom. As lively as ever. It seemed like the brother's squabbles were endless. Today Mammon had stolen a limited edition figurine from Levi's room and sold it for profit. To which Levi got so mad that he ended up summoning Lotan which of course frustrated the rest of the family as well. After a few long hours of cleaning the house from the flood and listening to everyone's constant complaining along with Lucifer's endless lectures to the third-born you were exhausted.

As you were changing into your pyjamas, ready for bed suddenly you noticed the length of your hair. It seemed exceptionally long. You didn't mind the length and would gladly leave it as it is but the ends were pretty damaged. They were split and dry. You decided it was time for a haircut. Though the problem was that it was too late for any hair salon to be open and your schedule was pretty busy the next few days so you couldn't go. The only choices you had were to whether cut it yourself or have someone cut it for you. You were too scared to cut it yourself since there was a big chance you would mess it up so the only choice was to have somebody cut it for you.

You walked into the living room, hoping to find at least one of the brother who you could trust to cut your hair and luckily one of them was peacefully sitting on the couch with his legs crossed and a book in hand. His long fingers were flipping page after page so elegantly it could leave you memorized. A strand of his blond hair had fallen in front of his eyes but he didn't seem to mind. Instead he just continued to read.

MC: "Satan?"

The demon lifted his head and looked at you with annoyance in his eyes. Though that immediately changed upon recognising you. A smile tug on his lips as he set his book down.

Satan: "Hey there, MC. Can't sleep?"

MC: "Actually I was about to when I noticed that my hair needs a trim. And I was wondering whether you could help me?"

Satan: "Me? Are you sure I'm suitable for that kind of thing? Why not ask Asmo instead? I'm sure he knows how to handle that kind of stuff."

MC: "I assume Asmo would be sleeping by now. You know what he says. "Lack of sleep damages your skin". Plus I can't trust anyone else with that type of thing."

Satan: "Hm.."

MC: "I mean.. I'm not forcing you.. I could always go see if Lucifer is willing to help if you don't want to.."

Upon hearing that forsaken name Satan lifts himself out of his thoughts and shakes his head.

Satan: "I'll do it. I can't let Lucifer do such a thing when you asked me to do it now can I?"

And so you found yourself sitting in a chair with the fourth-born behind you with scissors in his hand. He had already brushed your hair straight and put some water on it so it's a bit humid and easier to work with. Since that's what he's read in books.

Even when everything was set up and ready to go the demon just wouldn't touch your hair. It was obvious that he didn't put much trust in his abilities as a hairdresser.

After a moment he left the scissors aside.

Satan: sigh "I can't do it. I don't want to mess up and ruin your hair."

MC: "Sataann! Don't say stuff like that! You won't mess up. I trust you."

Satan: "But what if I do? You'd probably end up being mad at me and give me the silent treatment for a week."

MC: "That wouldn't happen.. even if things don't go as planned I wouldn't blame you."

You reach for his hand and gently take it in yours.

MC: "I trust you, Satan. And don't worry. I would never get mad at you."

Satan's eyes light up and he smiled softly.

Satan: "You're too generous, MC. But thank you. I shall try.."

The demon reached back for the scissors and grabbed a portion of hair. You half already told him the length that needed to be cut so it shouldn't be a problem. Though his hands were trembling once again.

MC: "Satan, calm down. I know you can do it. Believe in yourself. Just as I believe in you."

Satan nodded and took a deep breath before cutting. You could see the fear in his eyes as he did so in his reflection in the mirror. After another shaky breath the demon continued. You made sure to praise him and tell him how well he was doing throughout the entire thing. And after a few minutes your new haircut was done! The dead ends were cut, covering the floor. You saw Satan's smile in the reflection as he admired his handiwork.

Satan: "It looks great."

MC: "I knew you could do it, Satan!"

The demon wrapped his arms around your shoulders, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he whispered in a deep voice.

Satan: "Thank you for putting so much trust in me, my love.. I would've never done it without you encouraging me."

[papaya-twinks]

OK this might be a very niche request bc I have like an emotional attachment to my hair but I was wondering if u could do lando x reader where she goes to get a haircut and they cut shorter than what she asked and she goes back home all sad but lando just comforts her and loves her new look just very fluffy and comedic thx. Sorry it's a long request

Warnings: sad!y/n

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - hiiii, I just wanna say, your request can be as long as you want and you don’t need to worry if it’s niche or anything, unless it’s downright illegal or utter bullshit (actually everything I write is bullshit anyways), I will write it <333

“I said below my chest,” your eyes widened at the long clump of hair in your hand, your hair up to your collarbone. The hairdresser looked at you apologetically, “I’m sorry, I heard above,” she said. You sighed, still staring at the hair in your hand, before you left the shop, ignoring the tears in your eyes. You’d always grown up thinking your hair was a part of your identity, which it was, and you had to say, having it cut shorter was almost like cutting off a few memories.

“Hey Y/N, how’d the cut go?” Lando called from the living room as he heard the door close. You didn’t say anything, walking into the room, your face almost miserable. “Hey, sweetheart,” he noticed your expression immediately, dropping the TV remote and leading you to the sofa. “What happened, hm?” he ran his fingers through your hair, noticing the length.

“They cut it so short,” you sniffed, head in his chest as he sighed softly. “You’re sad about that?” he asked. He knew of your attachment to your own hair, and he knew it would’ve hurt you. He saw the same thing the last time they cut your hair. “Baby,” he held your chin in his hands, “I know you’re sad about it,” he picked at a lock of hair, “but you still look pretty,”. You were about to say something but he cut you off.

“I know what you’re gonna say. I know, it’s a part of your identity, yeah?” he quoted the words you’d said multiple times in the past as you nodded, “Identity’s change, and you still look gorgeous, Y/N,” he pressed his lips to your forehead. “Promise?” you asked, holding your pinky out. “Promise, Y/N,” he smiled, wrapping his finger round yours and kissing you softly

[star-anise]

now, hold still—

I'd kill for some resources on body image in the context of disability, chronic pain, and having grown up with a complicated and intense medical history. I think I've exhausted my local library's offerings. Yes, I'm seeing a counsellor who focuses on this, and he's probably got recs, but I'm pacing my cage and lashing my tail in between sessions.

"Body image" has a particular connotation most of the time, because it comes out of the field that deals with eating disorders. Which is great and I'm glad for the people it works for, but its basic principles and assumptions are for completely different problems than the one I have.

I can't track down who said it first, but in my reading I keep coming across this narrative of, "I saw my body as something to be disciplined and controlled, an object only seen by external eyes. Now I've learned to take joy in what my body can do and experience, and to see it as a site of pleasure."

...Sounds fake, but okay.

My body is a site of pain. It cannot do or bear the experience of many things. I have to exercise a huge amount of discipline and control just to get out of bed every day. I can't imagine my body being a visible object that other people might find pleasing; it's incredibly hard to look up from my continual tooth-and-nail fight getting my body to let me live to imagine what someone who doesn't live with all this shit might see.

When I was a child, I learned to hold myself very still. For a hairdresser, or photographer, or a dentist, or someone who wanted to measure my height, or an injection, or a doctor who wanted a demonstration of how one of my joints looked, or an X-ray, or an IV inserted, or a CAT scan, or to have a cast taken off, or a PET scan, or to have a wound treated, or an MRI, or to have a pin pulled out.

And you know, I got proud of that. I felt like a brave warrior in a fantasy novel. I learned to take deep breaths, and take myself in my mind away from the anxiety and unpleasantness, until I could shut down my reaction to it. So that I didn't flinch or scream or cry. Because there was something wrong with my body, and doctors knew how to fix it.

When I was getting assessed for fibromyalgia, this new doctor told me he was going palpate areas in my back, arms, and knees. I get a lot of massage; I knew what was coming. I slowed my breathing, concentrating on the long outbreath. I took myself away from my reactions and thought continually, obsessively, about letting my body droop, weightless, like the moment when your aching limbs meet a solid surface and fresh cool sheets.

"Hm, I dunno," he said. "A lot of this checks out, but your trigger point exam was totally negative. Most people, when I touch those points, they have a big reaction. Some people even scream and jump off the table."

"Well, no," I think I said. "If I'd done that, it would have hurt way more, for like, hours." And I was polite about it, because you have to be polite to doctors; doctors know how to make you feel better. But what I felt at the time, and still feel today, is a kind of outrage I labelled was unreasonable the moment it was born: You wanted to hurt me, and it's my fault for not letting you?

How do you learn how to ask for things, when you've taught yourself to lie still and cry quietly because the nurse who said they'd be right back is helping someone who suddenly needs the help more? How do you express yourself, when you've spent your whole life gritting your teeth?

The problems I have about my body are not about being attractive or thin. They are, however, about being small. Learning to cry less, scream less, and ask for less. About feeling like my body is a burden to anyone who comes to know it, and like that's a burden I can't ask other people to take on unless I'm staggering under the weight of it.

Right now, what I've got is this:

Remember, you weren’t the one who made you ashamed, but you are the one who can make you proud. Just practice, practice until you get proud, and once you are proud, keep practicing so you won’t forget. You get proud by practicing.

[meetmymouth]

plssss i need a blurb about thea seeing that bald ass head

from the series theadora

“What are you doing?”

Harry looks absolutely ridiculous.

Sitting on the sofa, a mug in hand as he scrolls on his phone with the other.

Seeing only his torso, and the hands were not a reason to call him out on his bullshit, though. What angered her—perhaps, for no reason—was the fact that he’d been home for about four hours, and in that four hours, Harry has not taken his beanie off.

So, she thinks, yes—he looks absolutely ridiculous with the beanie still on his head.

“What?” He looks up, eyebrows furrowed.

The hat matches the pink lights on their Christmas tree, and she so badly wants him to take it off to see whether the flickering lights would reflect on his head that lacked a significant amount of hair now or not.

“Take that thing off for the love of God, Harry, you’ve been home for hours.”

“I feel… self conscious.”

“You can’t be serious, I’ve caught you taking multiple selfies,” she rubs her eyes, and walks towards him. She sits next to him, one leg tucked under the other, arm finding his body to hug him from the side. “Are you… serious?”

Harry bites his bottom lip. “Okay, maybe not. It’s just hair. I don’t care. I just.”

“What is it?”

“Teddy hasn’t seen it—”

“Well, I wonder why. Your bald head must be so hot under that thing,” she snorts, biting his shoulder over the t-shirt.

Harry gasps, almost spilling his tea. He puts it on the coffee table, hand already finding her hip to pinch the skin. “Stop being mean. I’m not bald.”

“Just take it off, please. She’ll find it cute. Camp.”

“Camp?” He repeats, tone incredulous and hesitant. “Fuck off.”

“Harry.”

He lets out a sigh, and leans his head on her head, her hair tickling the side of his face. He smiles for a moment, the stillness of the room making him feel warm.

“I love you,” she starts, hand creeping under his t-shirt. She stops when it reaches his neck. “But you need to take it off. I mean, what’s your plan, hm?”

“Well.”

“Didn’t think that one through, did you?”

They turn their heads at the same time when they hear Theadora’s small footsteps.

She enters the living room, a pink, glittery tinsel around her neck, mouth supporting a frown.

“The tree in my room is so small,” she walks over to them, and grabs Harry’s hand, putting it on the arm of the sofa. She gets on his lap, but not before giving her mum a bored look. “You told me I could have a tree in my room, too.”

She nods. “I did. And you do. We bought you one.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Harry strokes the side of her face, fingers delicately playing with her curls.

“Too small, I said it one minute ago. Because it is small,” she gives a curt nod. “Tinsel does not cover it all the way.”

“Do you mean the tinsel is big for your tree?” Harry suggests.

Theadora looks up at him, eyes narrowed. “It’s not even a tree. It’s a… tr. It’s so, so small I don’t like it.”

“Teddy we have a massive Christmas tree down here.”

“Why are you wearing a winter hat,” she changes the subject, but before they can give her an answer, her small hands reach for the hat, and it slides off of his head.

They both gasp, Theadora howls.

“What have you done, daddy!” She closes her mouth with her hands.

“I… cut my hair, T,” Harry rubs his eyes, clearly feeling nervous.

It’s silent for a while, before Theadora speaks again.

“With scissors?”

“Ah,” Harry lets out a defeated laugh. “No—”

“Did you do it or mum?”

“A hairdresser.”

She gulps. They both watch her in silence.

“Okay.”

Harry’s gaze finds hers momentarily before turning back to the child. “You like it?”

“I guess but do you like it? Are you sad? Because your hair was kinda curly like mine,” she flinches at her own words before turning to her mum. “I am not cutting my hair.”

They both laugh, and Harry presses a kiss on her small hands.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Teddy,” Harry murmurs, hands stroking her small ones in his. “Do you like it, though— really?”

“I do, I think. We won’t be able to put hair clips now but I guess if you’re happy.”

Harry bites his lips so that he doesn’t cry at the pureness of the interaction.

“I love you, Teddy.”

“I love you, too, daddy. Your head looks nice, I promise you.”

Harry laughs, unaware of the loving gaze directed at them both.

“What about my hair?”

Theadora doesn’t look impressed by the question.

“Can we get a bigger Christmas tree for my room now, please?”

[missadangel]

Little Bird in a Cage (Javier Peña x Reader)

Part 5 : Fire on Fire -WARNING! +18-

Gifs din-jarring - djo

---------------------------- All episodes here ------------------------

"Are you going somewhere?"

You were startled by your father's voice, oh why the hell he was at home at this hour?

It has been a long time since you meet Javi -except you ran into each other the other night- so it was almost impossible to get ready at home and get out of the house at night, so you wanted to sneak out early.

"Y/N? I asked you a question."

You immediately turned to him.

"Yeah dad, well tonight we're having a sleepover with the girls."

You bit your lip nervously, hoping your lie wouldn't come out.

“Okay those girls have a name?”

You cleared your throat.

“Caroline, Maria and her sister. We will be at Caroline’s home.”

Surprisingly, he looked like convinced.

"Hm, well luckily I caught you before you leave then, come with me."

He made a gesture with hand.

"But dad, I-"

"It won't take much of your time."

You followed him into the garden obligingly. Wondering what coming next.

One guy was sitting on al fresco chairs in the garden where you were hosting your guests usually.  

"Honey, you remember Felipe, don't you?"

"Yes," you said and shook hands with him.

He was your childhood friend, but he had been in another city for a long time. You wondered why he is here now.

“How are you Y/N?”

“Thanks, I’m good.”

"Felipe came back to Cali last week, so I invited him over. You know, he is the Attorney General in Santa Marta now, right? Well done."

Your father always doing that shit. He speaks on someone’s behalf all the time.

You hated it.

"Yeah? Congratulations," you said, pretending to be look like impressed.

“Y/N is a great painter, she had many exhibitions though. Also her senior year in college, having good marks in university.”

“Father lemme talk for myself please,” you were annoyed.

Well what the hell was that?

Your father, who normally didn't come to your exhibitions -because he is too busy- suddenly became your favorite fan.

“That is great,” Felipe said smiling at you. He was so shy and boring you wanted to run away.

Also, he couldn't take his eyes off you, suddenly you smelled something fishy, narrowed your eyes. The way your father praised you to him there, which wasn't something he did a lot, so he was definitely planning something.

When he left, your father spilled the beans. It pissed you off when he says he wants you to marry Felipe.

Why was he always like that? You were so tired of him pressuring you all the time. But you didn’t want to think this right now. You left your father and all the other negative things behind and ran out of the house.

Tonight is special.

------

You had to convince Javi that he was in love with you even he's stubborn enough to hide his feelings.

That's why you went to the hairdresser to be perfectly prepared.

Your wanted hairstylist to make your hair like a side part with cascading curls, which letting other shoulder open.

Then when it comes to the makeup, attractive eyes and red lips was the best choice.

“Oh my, Y/N!”

It was Caroline, you both were surprised.

Your make up was done when Caroline came near you, her eyes looking at you super curiously, her mouth was wide open.

“What are you doing here? Are you going to a wedding or you're going to be a model?”

“No, I,” you bit your lip, what could you say?

“Or a date???” she touched you with her elbow, laughing.

“I mean, yes,” you smiled back, embarrassed.

“Oh my god you never tell me anything, I thought I was your best friend? So that's why you rejected Hugo that night, why didn't you say so? And who was it? Is he from college? Do I know him?”

With every question she got more and more curious.

“Caroline, slow down, please, I'll tell you, but keep this between us, okay?”

You sat on the seats in the waiting room.

She was the only person you could tell, so it made sense to spill your guts to her. Better than a boring psychologist, I guess.

Once you took the kidnapping part out and – especially terrifying parts - and told her everything that had happened, you felt a sense of relief after that.

Unlike your father and the psychologist, Caroline didn't judge you, she even felt sorry for you. More than that, she supported you.

“Some men are like that, they can't open up or deny. But do you think tonight will be effective? I mean, some men never call even after they get what they want. You said he’s older than you so is he a nice guy? Are you sure he has feelings for you?”

“I'm sure,” you said, more like hoping.

“Then get dressed and blow his mind.”

You nodded with smile. You were angry with yourself for not telling Caroline at the first place.

You went into the dressing room to put on the sexiest dress you've ever worn. When you got out from cabinet slowly, looking stunning.

"Slutty,” said the woman who did your hair. Other women in the hair saloon also staring at you.

Caroline clapping her hands happily, “And God created woman.”

"Stop, please,” you blushed, covering your mouth with your hand. “It's not too much, is it?"

"Depends on what you want, honey, but it's more than enough to make any men get hard," she blinked then bursting out laughing.

"Good," you said as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn't wait to see Javi's face when he notices you.

As she was looking at you from behind, Caroline's body suddenly shook and she has to sit down.

“Are you all right? What's wrong?”

“Well, I'm very tired today, I think I'll get my hair done later. Don't worry about me, don't be late for your appointment, please.”

“Are you sure? Do you need a ride?”

“No, I'll take a cab, please go and call me for the details later,” she smiled with a wink.

You were worried for her but she convinced you that she’s fine.

“Okay then, see you later, bye.”

“Bye Y/N. Good luck.”

You put on a long black velvet jacket over the dress and left. Your heart was pounding in excitement.

---

You weren't the only one who was getting ready diligently. Javi stayed in front of the mirror a little too long to be more attractive than usual. He fastened the belt of the dark jeans which he wore under his black shirt. After fixing his hair for the last time, he applied his perfume on his neck. He was all gussied up with his leather jacket too.

He was the one who first to arrived at the hotel, where you first met, that night. Almost all the women stared at him as he walked through the entrance. He went to the bar and ordered a drink. He looked around and then checked his watch. He had his elbow on the table, propping up his chin, waiting for you, and becoming impatient.

When he was having another drink when he realized the men next to him laughing each other and pointing at something. He even heard a whistle. Before Javi could turn his head, you put a hand on his shoulder and leaned towards him.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long," your voice was soft as velvet.

Javi didn't know what to say for a moment because you left his jaw dropping. He quickly cleared his throat, "No, I just got here."

You liked the crack in his voice, you pushed your hair back with one hand so that he could see your shoulder and your necklace.

“If you're the one making me wait, it doesn't matter, baby, I'll wait forever,” he whispered in your ear, feeling his breathe on your face, mesmerizing.

“Hmm I am very eager, I’m not like you,” also whispered in his ear.

He smiled, and ordered a drink for you.

“You are a very beautiful young woman, May I ask your name?”

You sniggered. “I’m Y/N. And your name is? I think I have a guess.

"Come on, don't expect me to introduce myself as Juan."

"But back then you said that name.”

He rolled his eyes.

"Please, but at the time I was just making it up. Why don't you call me, Javi?" he blinked.

“Nice to meet you then.”

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“My name, say it. I want you to say my name.” he was looking at you the most seductive way.

“Javi,” you said softly, your voice was like a lullaby to him.

He smiled and keep staring at you as he enjoy his drink. It was impossible for him to look somewhere else anyways.

But he suddenly realized he wasn't the only one.

Javi finished his drink and asked for another. He didn't like that all eyes were on you, especially the guys staring inappropriately.

"Don't you think it's a bit much," he glanced at your dress, almost angry.

You took a sip of your drink.

"Why are you so tense? Are you jealous?”

He rolled his eyes. ”Just saying.”

“Oh I see. And I am just asking.”

You locked your eyes on his.

"You're a very bad girl," he murmured.

When you looked into his eyes, you could see all his feelings as you both continued this ridiculous game.

"Hey honey, wanna join us?"

You both turned that way, and saw two men were laughing at each other, one of them quite drunk.

“How about you get out of here and come some other place with us?”

Javi got pissed, almost furious.

"Lady is with me, so the exit is that way," he gestured with his head.

The threatening tone in his voice was enough to make them leave. The other men at the bar also minded their own business after that.

That was so sexy.

"That's very kind of you, It was Juan right?" you smirked.

He hissed, “Please don’t ever say that fucking name.”

You touched his cheek, caressing slowly making him calmer.

It worked perfectly.

"Javi, you know we should just skip this part, get straight to the point, don’t you think?”

“Agreed,” he giggled, drinking his drink smiling. “Shall we spend the rest of the night in my apartment? It's not far from here. What do you think?”

His piercing gaze shone directly towards you.

“I'd love to,” you said, almost whispering.

You could feel your blood rushing through your veins and you were getting more and more impatient.

------

Javi opened the car door for you to get in. You could smell cigarettes and leather inside of his car. He kept looking at you during the ride, and you wished this ride would never end.

You realized that you missed this place, memories came back to you.

He opens car door for you.

“My lady,” he said and extending his hand.

You smiled as you taking his hand, “Mr. Peña.”

As you going up the stairs together he was still holding your hand.

Javi approached the door, took his key out of his pocket, opened the door and gestured for you to enter.

“Please come in.”

You smiled at him while walking inside. You remembered all the things that happened the last time you were here. Javi closed the door and took his jacket off, throwing a chair.

As soon as you looked at his bed your body started to feel hot.

With a super quick move Javi grabbed you by arm and made you turned to him and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulled you towards him. Before you even breathe with your mouth, he pressed his lips to yours and started kissing you roughly. His taste was like a drug, you needed him, trembling to have more. Your body was on fire. Your lips was boiling under his lips.

Fire on fire.

The heat was getting higher, spreading all over your body, especially in the very center of your womanhood. His hands were under your dress, rubbing your thighs, squeezing.

He picks you up and takes you to the bed while taking off your jacket and letting it fall to the floor, you breaking the kiss.

“You are very handy.”

"You haven't seen anything yet, baby," he said and kept kissing you.

You began unbuttoning the black shirt he was wearing, taking it off roughly and throwing it on the floor. He was moving you again as he all but ripped your dress off. You unbuckled his belt pulling it loose pulling his pants down to floor. He moved closer to you and started kissing your chest, while he undid your fancy bra tossing it to the side, pressing his now bare chest against your own it was like electricity and fire.

Having him against you, having him kiss you, having him touch you with his big hands and long fingers was a bliss, feeling like heaven.

As he began to rub your nipples, he started kissing one of them and licking it with his hot tongue, you moaning with pleasure.

“I want you Javi,” you whispered. “Can’t wait much longer.”

“You’re very eager.”

“I told you so,” giggling at him.

Then he pulls your panties down to your knees, nearly ripping them in the process, you also helped him to take off his underwear, you both are all naked now, together, discovering every inches of your bodies.

Then you moved a little away from him and went to the head of the bed. Javi crawled over to you, his eyes locked on yours, like a hunter approaching his prey.

You bit your lip in excitement but you resist opening your legs.

"Show me what you got, baby," he licked his lips then moving them from your knees down to your thighs.

You let him spread your legs with his hands, you were already getting impatient, and wet enough.

You tensed as his warm hand touched your womanhood, you startled involuntarily but you wanted him to do it more. As he pressed his finger deep inside you, you started to make cat-like sounds.

"Is this your first time?"

"What, no, of course not," you panted. "It's just, it's been a long time."

He smirked and grabbed you around the waist pulling you closer to him as he pushes his cock in, slowly.

"I haven't done it in a while either," he said, breathing heavily.

"Liar," you moaned, laughing. He grinned.

This time he started to pushing it deeper. You gasped at the feel of him inside of you, clenching the pillow you laid your head on. Both of your breathing became more rapid, when he pushed his cock almost completely then push back to go deeper. He repeated, and then repeated again. Soon he was combining his force with a faster pace. You moaning like meowing, eyes closed trying to feel him all the way, he was proud of himself for the feeling he caused. Smiling with confidence at the top of you, kissing you meanwhile, you wanted him to go deeper into your pussy, wrapping your legs around his hips pulling towards you, he liked that and gave what you desired.

You came twice for him but Javi hasn’t finish yet, this time he pulled you up to his lap by grabbing your hips, your legs begin shaking uncontrollably like you’re having a seizure and then you’re howling, your back aching so violently that Javi has to wrap his arms around your waist to keep you from falling off his lap. His fast, hard pace slowed down and he rode his orgasm out inside of you. He eased himself down, to lay on top of you, catching his breath, before sliding himself out of you and falling to lay next to you, both of you breathing heavily.

"Wow, that was fucking amazing," you said, panting.

“Indeed,” he sighed while kissing your neck. “You’re amazing, baby.”

You stayed for a while to savor the moment.

As you both breathing regularly, he got up and took a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lit it quickly, then came back to bed. With his free hand he pulled you towards him and covered your body with the sheets then himself. You were resting your head on his chest, breathing in his smell mixed with cigarette smoke. While he moves his fingers through your hair and and then also his lips, you fell into a peaceful sleep.

---------------------------- All episodes here ------------------------

[acalamity]

author's note

if anyone is interested, my ask box is open (my pinned post has more details) :D

I'm not exactly sure what this is: the mystery of eli's many hairstyles.

lookism! eli jang x reader drabble. reader and eli works in the same salon (the very beginning where daniel went for a haircut)

more under the wubbaboo!!

Eli Jang was a rather busy individual and utterly hopeless at cutting hair. Everyone around him knew that. Yet, every now and then, Eli would come around with a new haircut; done with meticulous hands and precision he didn't have. And Sally was willing to bet her entire building that Eli didn't cut his own hair.

She entertained the idea of her friend visiting a salon and brushed it off; Eli had neither the time or money to be paying for a new haircut and color change that often. And so, Eli Jang's changing hair remained a mystery.

Yet, it was a supposedly normal evening when Eli bolted out the door.

Oh, She realised when she spotted you by their doorstep, unamused and glaring at Eli with Yenna in your arms. The toddler in your arms waved her arms around, giggling and prodding at your skin as you spotted your coworker. Eli approached you with fervent steps, scooping his child from you and cradling her to his chest.

"Eli Jang." You called out to him, "Why did I find Yenna at the salon during my shift?"

Sally looked at Eli, "Hey! You said Yenna was Mira and Zack?"

"You see. . ."

"Nevermind, I don't want to hear it." With a sigh, you shook your head before glancing at the spectators behind Eli. That was the first time you extended your hand to her, and Sally was certain that this would happen many more times again, "It's nice to meet the family he talks about so much. I'm [Name], [Name] [Last name]."

The words left on their own before she knew it, "Are you the one behind Eli's hair. . .?"

"Hm?" Amusement twinkled in your eyes as you gave Eli a glance. For some reason, Eli seemed rather flustered and sheepish, "Eli's hairdresser? Yes, I suppose that's true."

You glanced at Eli, Eli glanced at you— and just like that, he invited you into their home, giving you one of his hands. The smiling eyes stared at your warmly, his tenderness as soft as a dream of clouds, "[Name], would you like to stay for dinner?"

For now, the meetings between the two of you under the false pretense of Eli's haircuts will remain private. In the time being, to satisfy the heart in his chest, he'll slowly but surely integrate you into other parts of his life.

You accepted the hand given to you, falling into step next to him, "Sure, thank you for having me."

Eli Jang is busy indeed, but for you, so long as you await, he will make time.

[impishtubist]

Sirius raising Harry AU where teenage Harry just. absolutely destroys his godfather on a daily basis. 

-Sirius is a decorated war hero with an Order of Merlin? Yeah, well, Harry’s gonna tell everyone about that time Sirius tried to make pasta and it all got stuck to the ceiling somehow.

-Sirius is voted most handsome wizard in England by Witch Weekly every year? Harry starts circulating pictures at Hogwarts of that one time Sirius got a Terrible Haircut (Sirius had a good laugh about the Tragic Haircut but Remus marched down to the hair parlor and berated the poor hairdresser for an hour.)

-Sirius is an exceptional duelist? Can decipher complicated ancient runes? Invents new spells? Becomes an expert in basically anything he puts his mind to? “Hm, nice,” Harry says, unimpressed, and then launches into a ten-minute ramble about how cool Bill Weasley is.

Sirius can’t win 😂