#how to manage a beauty salon business

[janeyseymour]

La Cosa Nostra- pt 1

*clears throat* ...hi. i present to you, the first part of the fic that @schemmentis are co-writing. and damn, if i do say so myself.

Summary: You're a part of the mob. Melissa is a part of the mafia. Together... it makes for an interesting life.

Let us know what you think because we are having an absolute BLAST with this!

WC: ~3k

You really don’t know how you ended up in this position. 

One day, you were working at the local hair salon, the next, you learned that your boss was tied up in the mafia and needed some help getting out. Luckily for him; you already had contacts. Just not on the side he was with. Which means you couldn’t entirely get him out of trouble but you could help. And you did. You had called your “Uncle'' Joe for a favor. A big one. Taking the loans of your boss at the hair salon off the Italian’s books and claiming them to the Irish instead. At least then, you knew exactly who needed to be spoken to for the loans and what was owed. And that’s how you met Melissa Schemmenti.

Melissa had been sent on behalf of the Italian’s. To negotiate taking the salon’s books. She hadn’t given it up easily. The only saving grace was the fact that the Irish taking the books meant the Italians didn’t have a problem to worry about anymore. It was hard not to want to agree from the Italian side of it. They had nothing to lose. And you were indebting yourself a great deal to your own “family” by taking it on. Except you knew you could turn a profit if you were given the chance. You argued with the red-head spokeswoman tooth and nail, like your life depended on it. Yours didn’t, not yet. Your boss’ life did, though. 

When Melissa finally agreed to turn over the books, she’d shaken your hand with an all too satisfied smile. One that you hadn’t forgotten since. You went around everyone in your extended “family” to ask her out. You half expected her to cuss you out and make it extremely well known you had tried. Instead, she’d said yes and told you to pick her up at six.

Fast forward seven years: you now own the hair salon, that red headed woman is your wife, and you have two beautiful little girls together. Everything is great- you would even dare to say perfect. Your front is working perfectly while still being one of the best hair salons in all of Philadelphia, your wife’s restaurant has taken off and she’s been named one of the most up and coming restauranteurs in the city, and your two children are well on their way to blossoming into two of the smartest kindergarteners you know.

The day your daughters were born is second only to the day you married Melissa in the happiest day of your life. Deciding to start a family as soon as possible, you began to lay down the foundations for a family. It had been decided that you would carry while attempting to find a donor that was as similar to your wife as possible. 

The two of you had tried a few times before and hadn’t managed to get pregnant. The day that you went in to take a test and the doctor told you that were indeed pregnant was one that you’ll never forget- Melissa jumping out of her seat and tackling you in a hug, her hand already resting gently on your flat stomach. And when you found out that you were blessed enough to be pregnant with twins, Melissa had gripped your hand, making a cross over her chest with the other. She thanked God for blessing you with two; she thanked you for carrying them since she couldn’t imagine being the one to. 

Having you carry was risky though, and it never left either of your minds through the entire pregnancy that you were technically on the forefront of this illegal business that you found yourself a part of now. But you were able to make it through your entire pregnancy without a hair on your head touched (you’re fairly certain Melissa had threatened both sides that if you were even looked at the wrong way they would be taken care of). 

Melissa, even five years later, is positive you were only flattering her when you had requested to name one of your girls in honor of her. She was the love of your life, after all, you had argued. Caterina Ann had been born first, and two minutes later her sister followed. Melissa named her Rosalina Marie. Gifting one of her sister’s middle names despite their estrangement. When the two of them did finally reconcile and Kristen Marie met your rays of sunshine, she wept at their names.

And then, it all comes crashing down on you. You’re out with your wife to pick up the girls from their day at school when your phone rings- and not your personal phone: the phone that you use specifically for your business.

“Hello?” you answer softly.

“Y/N,” the manager on call replies. “We have a bit of a problem over at the salon.”

“You can handle it,” you roll your eyes. “I’m out getting ready to pick up the girls.”

“They ain’t takin’ no for an answer,” he says lowly. “Insisting you come speak to them directly.”

You hazard a glance at your wife, who is looking at you with furrowed brows. “Let me pick the girls up, drop the family at home, and then I’ll be in.”

“Make it quick.”

“Don’t speak to me like that,” you reprimand your employee. “Don't forget I can fire your ass.”

“All I’m sayin’ is, if you don’t get down here sooner rather than later, there’s gonna be a much bigger problem on our hands than we have now.” He hangs up.

You stuff your phone in your pocket, look up at the sky, and audibly ask the question, “Why?” All you wanted to do was pick up the girls and have a nice family night. You’d finally been able to take the day off after almost a month of straight work. Now though, that was being taken away from you, and you couldn’t even get a clear answer as to why.

“Why what?” your wife asks you, clearly concerned.

“After we get Cat and Rosie, I have to head down to the salon,” you huff. “Tony called and said someone is down there specifically asking for me over some sort of problem. So, I’m either giving out a ridiculous credit or I’m dealing with...” you trail off, knowing she’ll understand.

Melissa squeezes your hand. “Go. I can handle ‘em. Just... please be back for bedtime, because then I have to head to the restaurant to prep for tomorrow."

“I’ll do what I can,” you promise her. You peck her lips, and you turn in the direction of your business wondering what the hell you’ll be walking into.

You walk in through the staff entrance of the salon, swiftly ducking into the back office before anyone up front can notice. You dig through desk drawers and the small filing cabinet in the corner. You quickly slip one binder, the ledger of the illegal side of the business into the space between your belt and back before you tuck your blazer coat back over it. You grip the other binder you’d grabbed, the legal ledger, as you step back out of the office and towards the front.

“Tony,” You greet your manager with a big smile. Your eyes flashing your annoyance at him. “Who do we have here?” You quickly turn your attention to the two individuals standing in front of Tony. You hold your hand out to shake. 

Instead of a handshake, a badge is flashed from each of the suits now focusing on you. “Agent Danik, and this Agent Shaw, FBI. You own this establishment?”

“I do.” You confirm. “What can I help you with?”

“We have reason to believe this salon is laundering money. We’d like to ask you a few questions,” Danik tells you lowly.

“I’d be happy to answer what I can.” You say, attempting to seem cooperative. You know it won’t help you to dig your heels in. “But I can’t imagine where you’d get the idea of money laundering. I’ve owned this salon for almost a decade.”

“And you bought it from Bobby Esposito, is that right?” Shaw asks, brow raised.

“That’s right,” you tell them honestly. “I worked for Bobby for a few years before that; managing the office and schedules. All that.” What you’re saying is true- for years you had sent out schedules, managed different finances, and became the best stylist your business has to offer.

“Were you aware Bobby was murdered a few years ago?”

You blink. You did know. It would be next to impossible for you not to know. “Uncle” Joey had ordered the hit on Bobby and informed you about it so you wouldn't be surprised. Now, you make an effort to look shocked. “Bobby? Murdered?” You echo, your brow furrowing. “Why would somebody do somethin’ like that? Bobby’s just…an old man by now.”

The agents’ faces don’t change. You feel a shot of ice down your spine at the thought they don’t believe you. “We were hoping you might have an idea about that. The PPD has been kind enough to lend us a room. You mind coming down to the station with us, have a chat about all this?”

“I don’t mind.” You answer as calmly as you can. “But I have two little girls waiting for me at home. I promised them a bedtime story and all, you know how it is. Couldn’t I meet you down there tomorrow?”

“I know how it is.” Agent Shaw answers with a sigh. “I have a little girl myself. Unfortunately, you’re gonna have to miss the stories tonight.” He does seem a bit regretful at the knowledge of you having children, but it doesn’t change the fact that they need you down at the station tonight.

You curse in your mind. Not only are your girls going to be disappointed; so is your wife. Not to mention the binder you’re still hiding that is definitely going to be noticed at some point.

“Right…” You murmur, glancing away from the agents. “Tony, call Mel for me, won’t you? Let her know I’m gonna be late tonight.” You say before starting to follow the agents out. “Oh,” You say, pretending to remember something. You glance over your shoulder. “And tell her to take that ziti of hers off the menu, huh?” You pretend it disgusts you to even think about it. It’s something you’d never dream of saying seriously. Which is why you say it now. When Melissa hears you said to pass that along, she’ll know something is wrong. Very wrong.

As you make your way out of your business and are escorted to one of the cars out front, Tony practically shits himself inside. He knows what’s happening, and he does not want to be the one to have to relay this information to your wife. Still though, an order from the boss is an order from the boss. He calls her cell phone on his own.

“Hello?” she answers as she juggles making dinner, assisting the girls with their reading, and making a list of things she needs to purchase for her own business tomorrow.

“Melissa? It’s Tony,” your manager sighs into the phone. “Don’t shoot the messenger when I tell you this, but Y/N ain’t gonna be home for bedtime stories tonight.”

Your wife nearly fumes. “What do you mean she isn’t gonna be... yeah, Rosie, that says ‘think’, good job sweetheart... What do you mean she isn’t gonna be home tonight?”

“She’s handling her business,” Tony states. “And you need to handle yours. Y/N said to take your ziti off the menu- it’s lacking.” And then he hangs up.

Almost immediately, the redhead knows something is wrong. That anger that had been there just a few seconds ago disappears in a flash- you’re in trouble somehow. You would never, ever tell her that her ziti is lacking. It’s your favorite dish of hers, and has been- it was the first dish that she ever made for you and had secured a place for her in your heart. It was the dish that you insisted be at your wedding because you knew that it would only make the one of the happiest days of your life even better. 

She knows she has to call her manager and let her know that she won't be in until late tonight, if at all. The restaurateur is able to relay this information, along with the ingredients that she’s managed to put on a list to go shopping for, before turning her attention back to your girls and the meal that’s being made.

Once dinner is on the table, Cat and Rosie chat your wife’s ear off about their days- and while she would usually listen avidly, her mind wanders to you and what you could be dealing with right now.

“Mommy?” Rosie waves a hand in front of her mother’s eyes.

Melissa blinks a few times. “Sorry, baby. Mommy’s a little distracted thinking about the restaurant right now. What were you saying?”

She makes an active attempt to stay as engaged with the girls as possible. And they’re fine, up until bedtime. They know you’re supposed to be home by now; you had promised them that you would be home for a family night and to read them a story like you haven't been able to for a bit now.

“Mam is running late,” Melissa tells them regretfully. “But I’m sure she’ll read you a story another time, so can you please just let Mommy read and get to sleep? You have school tomorrow.”

That throws both of your girls into absolute conniption fits, and your wife can only get them to settle with her in the bed that the two of you share, each of them clinging to one of your pillows. The woman who so desperately needs to attend to her own business sighs as she settles into the middle of the bed, one of your twins on either side of her, and prays that you’re okay.

You rub your eyes as you sigh. Both Agent Shaw and Agent Dinek are sat across from you at the small table. The small interrogation room feels even smaller than it did when you entered. It’s warm with its lack of windows. It takes a good portion of your concentration every few minutes to remember you can’t remove your blazer despite the Agents having removed their’s a long time ago.

“For the fifteenth time,” You grit out between your teeth. Your hand falling away from your eyes to thunk onto the metal table. “I have no idea who would wanna hurt Bobby. He was a nice enough boss even if he was clueless about how to balance his accounting. I didn’t wanna hurt Bobby. I bought the salon from him years ago, which would have been the only thing he’d have that I’d want anyway.”

“Y/N, you know that just telling us the truth would get you out of here a lot faster.” Agent Dinek says. She doesn’t lean forward or uncross her arms that are over her chest as she looks at you. She looks bored now.

Your hand on the table curls into a fist. You’ve let the interrogation go on this long, hoping it would just be a few questions you could bat off. A couple answers and then home. Now, it’s nearing three in the morning and you’re still sitting in the uncomfortable chair. The agents are still staring at you from their seats next to the door. You swear the thermostat has risen a couple times since you’ve been here.

This, being in an interrogation room at the PPD with FBI agents, is dangerous. Asking for your lawyer is even more dangerous. If you have to resort to that; you’re well and truly fucked. In the few times you’d been in interrogation rooms, you’d only had to answer a few questions, clear up a timeline. That was it. Those moments though were never with the FBI. 

They had only been with the PPD. Police officers you were more than familiar with. People from your neighborhood. People who knew you. People that came to the salon or your wife’s restaurant. A small handful on the force know exactly who you are and what your business really is. Those people though are in the families pockets. Irish or Italian, or both. Paid for their information their unique positions give them access to. 

Agent Shaw and Agent Dinek aren’t in anyone’s pocket. They seem to know exactly who is, at least on the streets, though. They’ve brought up plenty of names you’re overly familiar with over the last twelve hours or so. Triple checking how you know them, and how well you know them.

You’re reaching your limit. If you don’t ask to speak with your lawyer, force the “interview” to end, your only other option is to come clean. You think about emerald green eyes. The eyes you fell in love with practically the first time you looked into them. You think about little faces that look like little minis of your wife even though she claims they look more like you. If you come clean it isn’t just you paying for this. Nevermind the people beneath you and the rest of the families. 

What kills you to picture is your wife and your daughters paying for it. You don’t really care what happens to the Irish or the Italians at this moment. The entirety of Cosa Nostra could fall apart and you wouldn’t give a damn. If your wife or your girls are touched even the slightest, even just inconvenienced, you would raise hell. 

You slowly lean back in your chair, feeling the binder beneath your blazer press into your spine. “I’d like to speak with my lawyer.”

TAGS, and let me know if you want to be added! : @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

[charlottecutepie]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[yyawnjun]

KEEHO AS MAKE UP ARTIST

from my serie: P1HARMONY STUDIO

First a date with a guy (he dumped you), then a date alone (maybe), and all of this for ending up double date (what?). And that's the story of how it happened.

a.n.: tagging my girl for this collab @sobun1est @gfnextdoor, she proofreading this and credits to her for this beautiful banner! ; 1.9k wc for keeho !! ; first time writing for him, hope I get his character !!; fluff ; no warnings ; the first connection between the stories appears, I def recommend you to read the Theos part as well 💋

event taglist : @tkooooop @astro-doll-the-star @kflixnet (send an ask to be added)

Your friend - now Theo's girlfriend - had told you that if you mentioned her name, a certain Keeho would recognize you and surely give you a discount for a makeup appointment. You had accepted the idea and hadn't asked too many questions. You took advantage of the opportunity to have your makeup done by a professional because you were going on your first date with a boy you found on a dating app that same evening. The boy on the date seemed handsome, and your conversations had thrilled you quite a bit... or maybe you were just looking for company and were fooling yourself into thinking you were falling for each other.

One morning, you headed to the salon "P1HARMONY", where you trusted that a certain Keeho would do your makeup. You promised yourself that you would go as soon as the place opened and that, if I found a free spot, you would return in the late afternoon to do your makeup.

You went in and immediately approached the receptionist to ask for information. While the secretary was busy on the phone, you sat down in the waiting room.

Not too long after, you notice two guys went out. One of them was Theo! The tall guy with the dark black hair and the clothing that showed off some tattoos on his back, the man that your friend had been seeing for a week, the one about whom she had told you so much, and he went along with a tall man with platinum blonde hair. All that was visible about his strong physique was a white tank top that flaunted his arm muscles. He had a bright smile and a nicely defined jawline. He had sunglasses on his head and was dressed in loose pants.

Those two guys had gone out and shortly after came back with some coffee. They gave one to the secretary who now was free and ready to talk with you. Her eyes and smile were so calm, that you almost didn't notice Keeho's eyes on you and his little smirk as he looked you over.

You started explaining the situation to her, how you would need full make-up for the same evening, Keeho immediately intervened in the discussion and introduced himself as "the best makeup artist" in the shop.

While he was talking to you and boasting about his skills, you had some time to observe his face better and notice the light make-up he had on and that made his eyes and smile stand out so much. He had a very light pink eyeshadow that recalled the blush and a touch of mascara, and his lips were done with nude makeup.

As soon as he had finished speaking, you had taken the opportunity to ask him if he was available that evening.

“Yeah, sure. See you later" he replied while he gave you a quick wink before going to his room.

You suddenly blushed and said thank you before leaving.

You were now far from the store, but what was that heartbeat? What was that knot in your throat when he spoke to you? What was that smile that you couldn't take away?

You thought about it all morning while you were going to work. You had managed to balance your studies with a part-time job, and even though you were on vacation you had promised a friend of yours that you would replace her for that shift. You were supposed to stay there for a few hours, then run to get changed, and finally show up in front of Keeho at 6:30 to get your makeup done. You were supposed to meet the Tinder guy at 8:00. Everything was under control.

..or so you thought. The work shift turned out to be harder than usual, so you rushed to get to your apartment, but at that moment none of the clothes you had on seemed to fit you. You had begun to feel sad and had been overcome with bad thoughts. As if that wasn't enough, the Tinder guy had texted you that he would no longer be able to go out, leaving you on that difficult evening alone and without an explanation. You called your friend, and you stayed on the call for a while. Unfortunately, she was away and couldn't go out with you that evening. But she recommended you go on a date with yourself.

You knew it would be difficult, maybe a little uncomfortable, but necessary. After getting back up, you were prepared for your solo date.

You started choosing what you would wear and opted for a simple and comfortable dress, one that was able to enhance your body.

You packed your bag with the essentials, added a book to keep you company, and went out to do your makeup.  Well, you were on a date alone, but you wanted to shine - and a little help with your makeup wouldn't have hurt.

You arrived early at the salon and sat down in the waiting room. You took your time admiring the location and noticed a girl in a corner. She must be a customer too, you thought.

She was smiling at her phone, and shortly after, she looked up, feeling your eyes on her. You immediately shifted your attention and concentrated on the room to not scare the girl.

“Hey..uhm can I ask you for some advice?” the girl asked you shyly.

You immediately nodded and smiled at her, so she quickly came to sit next to you and showed you some ideas of henna tattoos that she wanted to get.

She asked you for advice on which one to get, and you immediately started to recommend the prettiest ones, even though you immediately admitted that all the ones she had found were gorgeous! As you two got to talking, the girl's shyness became visible in her flushed cheeks and her stuttering as she revealed that the major reason she wanted to get henna there was to get to know that boy— Intak, the henna artist.

You reassured her and encouraged her until the last moment when Intak came to tell her that the room was ready.

She smiled kindly at you and wished you good luck for your solo date.

While waiting, you took the time to appreciate that knowledge and smile at the kindness of that girl.Shortly after, the receptionist called your name and gave you the room number.

As soon as you entered, you noticed the huge amount of mirrors. They were along all the walls of the circular room, and many lights allowed for complete illumination.

“Hey, you are Yn right?” Keeho, who was standing in the middle of the room, next to a whole cart of makeup, said to you.

“Yes, it’s me,” you answered.

After he gestured for you to sit down, you took a little more time to admire the beauty of the guy in front of you. His white hair contrasted with his tanned face, he had a big smile and high cheekbones. His arms were athletic, and his eyes were bright as they looked at you.

“So, you like what you see?” he asked you.

Since he didn’t add a direct object, that rhetorical question could have referred to anything. The room? The makeup cart? The photos of his makeup hanging on the walls? Him?

“Yeah” you answered, trying to remain vague, but at the same time not lying. Everything in that room was amazing.

After you sat down on the chair, he sat next to you, leaning on the windowsill with his arms crossed. That position in particular highlighted his firm arms and, at the same time, his height compared to you.

“Did you have any ideas for today’s makeup?”

“Nothing specific, I thought I would trust you”

“Great choice! here’s what I thought I would do” and immediately he started showing you ideas and explaining complicated things about the techniques he would use. Even though he had only seen you the morning before, you noticed how he had already understood your strong points, which he complimented at every step he explained.

You were very confused, and slowly you were getting lost in his words and expressions. You tried to nod and ask where you could, but in the end, you gave up.

“So, for what occasion are we doing this makeup?” he asked you as he started to take out all the necessary makeup.

“Tonight I am going out on a date,”

“Lucky him”

“Actually-”

“Or her”

“I’ll go alone”

And his expression in his eyes softened, his smile brightened and he whispered “That’s great”.

He then started with the various products to put on your makeup, first a good skin care, then the primer, a very light foundation, concealer...

In the beginning, he explained each step, but then slowly, his voice faded so he could concentrate. You forced yourself to close your eyes when he was too close. He had never gotten too close, but the slightest contact made you shiver.

“Oh, I can already see that you’re blushing. Maybe we’ll skip the blush step” he told you smiling.

“It’s because I am hot…”

“Sure sure” he replied and moved to finish the makeup.

You were beginning to feel a little melancholy during those moments when he was adjusting the final steps, drawing a pencil outline around his lips, and carefully applying a light gloss to them. It was nice. He was nice. You would have liked to know that boy better, you thought.

He was about to announce that he was finished when you heard a knock on the door. The girl from before—the one with the appointment for a henna tattoo—appears shortly after the door is opened.

“Hey, sorry, we’re still finishing here,” Keeho said, annoyed.

“I am sorry, can I talk to the girl?” she asked you.

You immediately stood up, after Keeho had given you a sign of approval.

You went out into the hallway for a second, and she immediately apologized for interrupting you. She then explained to you that she had asked Intak out that evening for a drink after dinner and that he had said yes. And from there, your eyes lit up. You were so happy for her.

“Would you like to join us…with Keeho..double date?” she added at the end of her speech.

"Oh wait, why? I am sure Intak would love to spend some time alone with you. And you'd like it too." you replied.

"Sure, but uhm Intak told me that Keeho, or do you- uhm so... I am so bad at lying."

"Are you trying to set us up?"

"WHAT??.. how did you know?"

"I didn't-"

"Ok! Let's go back five seconds, where you don't suspect anything. Can I trust you with the double date?"

"Well"

"I see you blushing for him"

"Okay let's do it."

“Perfect, Intak will text Keeho soon that we’re going out together.”

And after a sweet smile, you both went back to your rooms. You took a few minutes to recover and try to hide your blush. As soon as you entered, you saw him typing on his phone. He immediately looked up, and his smile returned.

“So double date, huh?” he said to you.

You blushed again. It was going to be a long night.

[billiedeansbitch]

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 (nsfw)

𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

a/n: Been craving for Donna Beneviento lately and my mind will not rest unless I do something about it and this is the end result of that. Not beta read, darlings, we die like the maidens in the cellar.

summary: Donna's due for a haircut and then it turns into fucking because why tf not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

warning/s: NSFW. SMUT. Fingering. Oral Sex. Slight praise kink. (It's actually a little fluffy) SMUT AGAIN. No plot just fucking smut.

The kitchen floor is dirtied with trimmed hair, all black and silky. It’s that time again for her where she sits in her kitchen, her back ramrod straight. Beneath the makeshift gown that’s draped around her, Donna has been, well…fidgeting for the past five minutes since you sat her down and started cutting.

“Be still for me, cara mia.” and she listens, of course she listens. The anxious tapping of her fingers on her knee halts. She breathes out, calming herself. But something about having you so close and touching her, makes Donna lose it. Her knees start to bounce and keep her hands full of the fabric of her skirt.

Donna watches you with her good eye as you meticulously trim the ends of her overgrown bangs that frames her face exactly as they did since she was six years old and a mortal. She looks beautiful. Very beautiful.

“Donna, darling.” She watched you place a finger beneath her chin, in an attempt to catch her eye, “Have I not told you to be still?” blush creeps to her neck then to the apples of her cheeks, she feels the warmth of your breath as you lean closer just enough that you are bent at the waist to level with her face. 

Your presence was all too consuming, it makes her head dizzy with the love spell you put her in. She wants to touch you though she refrained from doing such a thing, instead she fisted her hand tighter, the handful of fabric does nothing to relieve the yearning but at least it’s keeping her grounded and hands busy.

She looks stunning like this, you can see the purplish veins around the scarring, the visible greying of her skin, the pretty long lashes you adore, her soft lips albeit a little chapped. This woman needs to drink more. It’s funny how one could think an immortal body does not need to be cared for, to be tended and handled with fragile hands, to be kissed and loved…God, how wrong they were.

“Cara mia?” 

Donna’s breath stilled, her heart was erratically beating so hard she feared it might tear out of her poor chest and jump right into your palms. 

You brush the wispy bits of baby hair from her forehead, “Be still or I’ll have to punish you.” She blinks, opens her lips to say something but nothing comes out in protest.

“So what will it be, hmm? Are you going to be still now?” She holds your gaze for a second then nods.

Donna manages through until you’re done cutting her hair, her hands finally releasing the abused and wrinkled fabric. 

You were busy tucking away the hair cutting tools, and sweeping the floor of the kitchen where it served as a small salon just a couple of minutes ago, due to the incredible natural lightning that’s pouring in from the windows. It’s only the part of this house that’s not void of light, because it’s your spot, it is where you linger more. When you’re done, you see Donna holding her veil, her hair up in a bun again.

She’s about to put it on, too shy and feeling too vulnerable without the piece of cloth but she felt your fingers curling around her wrist,  “No, let me see how perfect you are, cara mia.” and her heart thumps again, “I want to see you.”

She abandons the cloth, and the moment her gaze lifts to your face she’s welcomed with a smile, “There’s no need for that when it’s just you and I, my love, unless of course you are uncomfortable. Are you uncomfortable?” she watches as your brows knit together, your own eyes searching her face for any signs.

She grabs your hands firmly, “No!” her voice comes out raspy, deep from disuse. She profusely shakes her head and brings your hands to her lips. “No.” she says again, a little softer this time, more quiet like it was supposed to be just a thought. Kissing  your hands, she shows you what she knows of affection, what little of it is left from years of only torment and abuse, of cruelty and manipulation.

“Hush, my love. I believe you.” You kissed her, and her body’s first instinct was to flinch away, but she didn’t. She stays right where she is and revels on the way your lips touch her face again kissing her forehead, then her cheeks, “You are perfect.”

Your lips are warm against hers, she can feel how alive your body is, how the little hairs along your arms stand and your skin prickled. She knows her hands are cold, just like the rest of her and you know she’s debating in her head whether to pull away, so you assured her that you are fine, that her touch is as warm as the sun can be… She does not believe that, of course, but she yielded anyway.

Donna gasps when you start to back her up the kitchen counter, your mouth still kissing her lips. With her arms now wrapped around your neck, she lets you guide her. 

She knows what’s about to happen. 

“Amore mio,” the counter top is cold and it’s piercing right through her palms as she now sits on it but it's only a small price to pay for what’s about to unravel in the next few seconds. 

You lined yourself in between her thighs, caressing each and feeling how her body responds to your touch, “Donna,” 

—

The kiss is as delicate as the hand that travels from your cheek down to your throat where it stays for a few moments, possibly feeling your pulse before it goes down your shoulder to the length of your arm, caressing your bicep.

It’s been a while since you’ve had her like this, so eager for affection, for your touch, for your mouth. For you.

She rests her face on the crook of your neck, breathing you in and kissing you lightly, a hand tangled in your hair. It pulls strings of sounds, sensual enough to elicit heat in her cunt. 

After a moment you urge her to look at you, “Be good now and show me your face, come on.” you slip a hand to her cheek, guiding her to show you herself, “Let me see you, please?”

Donna lets you.

“There’s my beautiful girl.” At the compliment she can’t help but feel abashed, her cheeks reddening despite herself. The feeling of warmth wrapped on her cheek, the one that’s smooth and without a flaw, one that Donna lets you touch, was unlike anything she had ever felt. She indulges in it, leaning and closing her eye.

You rub the supple skin with the pad of your thumb, feeling so weak in the knees for this woman.

“So wonderful…” and there it is again, the flipping of her heart.

When your thumb tug at her lip, she automatically opens them, her eye going back up to watch you practically devour her with only your eyes alone and it elated her, it sends pleasant shivers down her spine, the heat in her stares intensifies just as the one in apex of her thighs. Thank the black God she’s sitting because if she’s not, she might have been too weak to keep herself upright.

All while your right hand is busy with her face, the left found its way underneath the heavy skirt, and straight right through her core. The cotton underwear is as damp as you expected, not that you expected any less because knowing her, she’d be leaking just from your touch alone.

A gasp echoes in your ears before it melts into sighs then moans.

“So wet already?” Donna whimpers, closing her eye. “Or have you been having lewd thoughts about me…mm? While I was cutting your hair wishing my hands were tucked somewhere else?” 

She nods. Any verbal response is simply too much for her right now. “Oh, Donna.” 

She watches as you retrieve your hand from between her legs, feeling how her wetness grazes the insides of her thighs from your fingertips making her shiver. Donna has never been so fucking wet like this, her arousal glossing your fingers in the most erotic way. It is a visual she cannot forget so soon.

You brought your fingers in your mouth, audibly sucking each, and showing her how much you fucking want her.

“Would you like to suck it too, baby?” You offered. A smirk curls into your lips, she’s considering it. Her gaze falling back and forth from your eyes to your fingers.

“Open your pretty mouth.”

Without any objections, she complied, opening her mouth just a gap and you slid one finger in. Her cheeks hallowed, like a vacuum sucking all what’s left of her on your finger. It made you bite your lip, your breathing fully stopped at the sight and sensation. 

When she pulls, releasing your finger with a pop, she gives you a look, one that’s filled with hunger and you know right in the moment that you are done for.

—

The mess of jet black hair spilled on the counter, the buttons of her blouse flying everywhere but neither of you seems  to care (especially her) you both have a goal: to relieve her of her blouse. You tried to be careful really—and patient, so patient as you undo the small, metal buttons one by one but they were so little for your fingers, too delicate and Donna was growing impatient, too. That was when she ripped it open, aiding you, her strength had your jaw hitting the floor.

Her arm was only halfway out her sleeve when the silk chemise came into view and her nipples were visibly hard and calling for attention, your hand uncaringly tugging the fabric, one breast out. She threw her head back, feeling your wet tongue flicking the hard bud, your hand squeezing her mound so eagerly. 

Her fingers are locked in your hair, pulling at your scalp each time you’d tease her, biting instead of sucking. It’s driving her heart into a frenzy, her jaw slackened and her eye is as wide as they can get staring into the ceiling before it rolls behind her head. Nothing but deep guttural moans and hiss filling the kitchen.

The expanse of her chest is tinged with subtle pink colour, it looks well on her grey toned skin, even her nipples are rosy and mostly sore from how brutal you’ve taken her. Her breath heaves, one arm covers her forehead while the other remains tangled in your hair. You are both catching your breaths but none of you is done yet. 

Donna raised her head to take a look at you, her fingers combing through your hair. You look back at her, smiling softly. “You okay there, baby?” She smiles in return, biting down on her lip. It’s the only answer you can get from her.

“You ready for another?” 

Donna blushes again.

With the back of her hand silencing her moan, she gripped the ends of her skirt with the other. 

You inhaled a lungful of air, her musky scent filling your nostrils making you instantly salivate. The sight of her pussy sending you to the edge. “Amore mio.” she whimpers, pushing your face forward, silently commanding you. “P-please.”

If it were any other day, you’d surely make her wait and tease her until she’s shivering and ready to implode but today, you are feeling quite as needy as her.

“I’ll take care of you.”

The gentle tap on her thigh is enough for her to get the message, she spreads them apart and the lips of her cunt separates just so, drenched and glistening only for you. 

–

The first licks are gentle, the tip of your tongue merely going up and down the lips deliberately avoiding the clit. Donna cants her hips again and whines. You pause, smiling as Donna begins to be more and more confident about demanding what she wants and so you give in as a reward.

Using your thumb, you pull the hood of her clit just a little, exposing it. You bring your tongue to play with the bud, “oh–ah, p-please” She’s never been so verbal like this. You keep a slow, gentle pace for her, licking and sucking until the sounds of her thrashing mixed with her unrestrained moans fills the air, her thighs closing in on your head so soon. You lap at her, mercilessly sucking and dipping your tongue as far as you can and slurping her pussy. 

Donna is just coming off from her high, breathing in as much as she can and when she feels your fingers drawing circles on her pussy, she can’t help but look down. The sunlight is warm on your face, it brings out the colour of your eyes, sweat covers your forehead. She can have you like this all day long.

and then you pushed, “Ah…” her lips fell apart again and her back hit the counter, her breath stilling for a couple of seconds before she let herself breathe again. Her eye shut closed.

You are two fingers deep in her cunt, feeling it flutter around your digits, swallowing you deeper and oh she’s nice and warm and just so awfully tight you can’t help but moan yourself. You peppered kisses on her thighs before you move your fingers in and out it goes, the squelching sound of her pussy makes up for the eerily quiet home. 

It arouses you, it makes you fucking lose your mind, your own cunt desperate to be fucked but Donna’s pleasure is much more important right now. 

Sensing her eye on you, you smirked when you looked up and caught her already looking, “That’s right, baby, watch me fuck your pussy. Come on, don’t look away now. I want you to see how much I love fucking you until you’re nothing but a whimpering mess for me, Donna.”

And Donna, ever so responsive, hums. She’s visibly melting with your words, with how tender even the most filthiest words coming out of your lips sounds like. She clutched on her skirt even firmer, bunching it until her belly button is showing. The patch of dark hair between her legs is soaked both from her arousal and your saliva.

“Oh, you want more? I’ll give you more, darling.”

Donna has no choice but to bit the back if her hand when your lips starts to leave hot wet kisses all over her abdomen, inching closer and closer to her cunt each time until you tongue slowly but firmly dragged to the length of her slit before circling her clit, your fingers pumping faster and faster. 

Fuck, if the sound of her pussy being banged and all isn’t making you lose you fucking mind then the sounds she’s deliberately making will. “Fuck” you mutter,  clearly out of breath as you urge her to sit up, still not taking you fingers out.

Neither of you wait for a second to recollect yourselves, Donna’s lips are sealed with your in a hot searing kiss, her finger buried in your hair. 

“Amore mio,” she whispers in your ear, her cunt clenching so tight around you but keeps pushing, the burning of your muscles as you cross your limits is starting to take its toll on you but you keep pushing.

“Fuck!” You grunted and she nodded against the crook of your neck now.

“You’re mine.” 

“Yes,” she says, the hotness of her breath tingles your skin, “I’m yours. Yours—oh fuck, please!”

“Come, my love. Cum all over me.” 

Her nails dig into your scalp and back, it hurts but it doesn’t matter.

You pressed your face on the side of her head, one hand cradling her nape and you felt it gushing down your wrist. It’s wetter and slippier…

She comes.

[swampstew]

Spoiling Eustass 'Captain' Kid

500 follower milestone achieved ~ thank you to all the lovely folks who like my content enough to follow and constantly support. You are all beautiful beans and I so appreciate every single one of you. As promised, here is the Spoiling Captain Kid bedtime story. Enjoy spoiling our mans♡

Word Count: 1.8K Warnings: None! Fluff piece with GN Reader, SFW (with some suggestive spice) but as always my content is only for ADULTS.

Minors DNI you will be blocked

Being with a man like Eustass Kid is anything but easy. His ambitions, his temper, his sardonic and gluttonous personality – all highly guarded walls to keep trespassers away. His reputation and his crew as his guard dogs to keep anyone from getting too close.

That didn’t mean there wasn’t love in his heart. For Killer.

The crew.

For you.

He hadn’t meant to fall for you but he did before he could articulate what he was feeling. By then he was in too deep. Couldn’t get you out of his head, his bed, or his heart.

A Captain has duties and Kid is a busy person. Between strategy meetings, communicating with contacts in the Underworld, commanding the crew and Victoria Punk, his time in the workshop, and everything else in between, you could see that his day-to-day schedule was running him ragged.

You had enough.

No man, not even Eustass Kid, is immune to burnout. Working out the details with Killer, you plotted a day of pampering and relaxation for the aggressive redhead. Whether he wanted it or not.

The ship is quiet. Too quiet. Kid’s suspicious scowl grew deeper as he walked around. Normally when the crew found a port to dock at, there would be stragglers around the deck nursing hangovers. Not today. He first noticed when he woke up and dragged his feet to the kitchen to grab you and him some water.

Now you were gone too. What the fuck!

Slightly jumping from the bathroom door suddenly swinging open, you stand before him in a cute little outfit that made his eyes dilate. He shook his head out of those spicy thoughts.

“Where the hell did everyone go?”

“Killer gave everyone a day off with a rotating skeleton crew to guard the ship!”

“The fuck? And he didn’t run that by me first?!”

You shake your head at him, “It was decided amongst the Commanders, Killer and me.”

Kid did a double take. “You all did what now???!”

“Everyone has the day off. You included. Now get changed, your itinerary is all filled up.” You pass the handwritten schedule into his flesh hand.

The vein in his forehead throbbed as he looked over the sheet.

Morning – Self-care start with breakfast provided. Full body treatment to follow.

Afternoon – Hot springs and lunch after. Nap optional.

Evening – Banquet with after party. If the Captain behaves, he’ll be provided with an additional gift.

“If I behave?” he growled, lowering the sheet from his face.

“Yep! Try to wear something a little casual since we’ll be out of our clothes a lot.”

That swiped the scowl off his face to be replaced with a grin. A grin he kept on his face as you both strolled through the island lazily. Kid is almost unrecognizable wearing shorts and a muscle tank top, his trademark goggles traded in for a pair of large, tinted sunglasses with golden rims. The day is bright and sunny, not too many people out on the streets, and his lover hanging off his arm – not a bad way to start his imposed day off.

When you reached your destination you almost had to pull Kid inside.

“We’re here stop dragging your feet!”

“You didn’t say anything about a nail salon!”

He much preferred to paint his nails himself, even after he lost his left arm he insisted on trying to use his power to create a normal sized-scale prosthetic. While it was manageable, it was nowhere near as precise or cleanly done as when he had both organic arms.

“Who cares? They get paid to do a job no matter how crusty your toenails are!”

“Y/N I AM NOT CRUSTY!!!!!!”

In the end you manage to pull him in. Kid remains entirely silent; face flushed as he sits in a leather chair that also had a massaging feature while his feet soaked in a heated tub. The manicurist quickly removed and painted his nails on his right hand while an adventure drama played on a screen, not once daring to speak aloud. Even the visual transponder snail seemed nervous, the screen slightly rippling on the edges.

You came through the door carrying a platter and two bags hanging from your arms. While your feet and back experience the same treatment as Kid, you hand feed him donut balls and ripped off pieces of bagels. He even has you lift his iced coffee for him to drink so he doesn’t have to move his body from the pulsing chair.

Nails freshly done and bellies satiated, you both head to the back of the salon. Through a heavy glass door, you both find yourselves in a spa house. Kid quirks his hairless eyebrow at you.

“Look, I’d normally take care of you myself but you’re…particular with how you like things done and I’d rather not get yelled at. Humor me and I promise you’ll feel stress free and relaxed and maybe add 5 years to your lifespan ok?”

With a grunt he gently shoves you off to the side in annoyance as he walks up to the receptionist. To Kid’s horror, he is to be subjected to a hot stone massage, a full facial, and then dipped into salt-rich mud for gods only know how long.

He enjoys it even if he tells you he hated every second.

Your room is next to his while you receive your own massage and you could hear his pleased growling and muffled moans as the massage therapist worked out kinks from his back not even Killer or you could work out. You didn’t hear him object to the facial and you thought you might have even heard him hum when the specialist told him they didn’t know why he needed it on his flawless face. That made you scoff; you were just trying to spoil your man – and on your own dime, thank you very much! Kid is ANYTHING but a cheap date.

Nothing could prepare you for how utterly out of character Kid looked while he reclines in the mud bath. The Dead Sea mud is known for its purgative and restorative properties. It exfoliates and tightens skin, eliminates harmful bacteria, and nourishes the skin and scalp.

Healing qualities aside – Kid is covered entirely in mud save for around his eyes. Even his hair was thoroughly coated. You hold back a laugh and sink your body next to his, working the nutrient rich mud over your skin and hair. It’s only an hour but time feels eternal in the chamber, the harmonic sounds of tuning forks and melodic singing bowls being rung as you both slipped into a tranquil, meditative state.

Free from the mud, its only logical that the next stop is a hot spring. After another rinse, you both settle into a private heated pool and enjoy each other’s company. Your bag held a bottle of champagne which you had the staff chill, and you were now making bottomless mimosas. A heated bath plus alcohol equals a nice buzz and a voracious appetite. After your soak, you take the lead and bring him to a delicious restaurant where you watch Kid devour meal after meal. You are always impressed with the bottomless pit he called a stomach.

“I’m not a child,” Kid scoffs once you come back to the ship. “Don’t need a nap.”

“You might not but I do! We had a busy day and I’m full from lunch. If you want to just cuddle that’s fine too.”

Ever the edgy punk he is, he turns red at the mention of cuddling and throws the clothes he took off directly at your face. He ends up cuddling anyway. And once your lulling breaths signaled your descent into sleep, he swiftly follows, holding your warm body snug to his.

Hours pass quickly and when Kid wakes up he’s pleased to see you curled up on his chest. He plays with your painted fingers until the sounds of hunger rumble from his stomach to his chest, waking you up.

“Finally! Been dying to eat but SOMEBODY was trapping me down.”

“M’mm soo sorry your majesty,” you grumble with side eye, getting up from the bed and beating him to the bathroom first.

If there’s one thing you know about the Kid Pirates aside from their…rabid violent tendencies…is that they know how throw a party and banquet. The deck is filled with dining tables displaying mouthwatering dishes, roasted meats, and tons of liquor.

Killer got the band together for live music and it warmed your heart to see how amiable Kid is when he truly let loose. Not that the crew never got to see that side of him, just that those moments were far and few between with how demanding finding the One Piece is. And trying to take down the powers of the world.

Choosing to focus on the present, you dance along with the crew as the music flows, drinking, and having fun. You find yourself in Kid’s lap as you eat and talk shit with the others, he keeps a close grip on you with the occasional affectionate squeeze. You manage to steal a glance at him and see he has the happiest smile on his face as he looks down at you. A lovely image that makes your heart flutter and return his smile. Not at all rolling your eyes as he gently grabs your chin and turns your face around.

When the night is over, Kid playfully throws you on the bed with a wide smirk on his face as he crawls over your body.

“Alright what’s my gift?”

“Under the bed.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you, “Oh you mean an actual gift? That wasn’t an innuendo?”

“I bought you an actual gift that’s going to change your life.”

He snorts at that but then looks under the bed for his gift. Pulling out a gift bag, he sits down next to you and looks inside. A confused look on his face, he pulls out a sleek, gun-looking mechanism.

“You planning to shoot me or something?”

“In a sense.”

The bewildered look he gives you makes you laugh aloud.

“It’s a massage gun! There are different shaped pieces that you can interchange to fit the massage and area you want to target. Let me show you, take off your vest.”

He rolls his eyes but does as you say, “Doubt this teeny tiny toy can do anything of significance.”

The massage gun comes to life with a low buzzing hum. You attach one of the heads to the nozzle and brace yourself.

“C’mon get it over with already! I hate waiting for dissapo—OH MY GODS!!!”

By the time you’re through with him, he’s a drooling pile of putty laid out on your lap.

[st0r-fruit]

Spoiled Orphan Reader X HayaRyuu Headcanons

Summary: You find yourself surrounded with a different family. Maybe it's not that bad.

A/N: Hello! First time writing for Gakuen Babysitters with slight twist of Ouran Highschool Host Club! Please be aware that i haven't finished OHSHC, so please do let me know if i made mistakes 🙏. Have fun reading!

Tags: Fluff!!, Slight crossover with OHSHC (Haruhi and Ryuuichi are cousins in my AU), Reader is girl/feminine, Hayaryuu aged up by 10 years, basically all mentioned Gakubaby and OHSHC characters is aged up, Billionaire!Ryu and Millionaire!Kamitani, Ryu is a a successful business man and Kamitani is a successful famous baseball player, Hayaryuu Girldads for the win.

You, are once the child of a wealthy and powerful family. Your father controls big corporation markets and is known to be ferocious and perfectionist. Your mother invests on beauty salons, known for her kindness and gentle soul. You, on the other hand is know for your strong-willed attitude that knows exactly what you want and when you want. A purebred horse? It's here in tommorow morning. A brand new couture? All is set, all you need to do is find that you like. That new fancy dessert? It's by the dining table. You know you're spoiled and loved, and you make use of it.

Your life was great until one day... A hired sniper killed your parents. You three were just enjoying tea when you can hear faint wisps of bullets bursting to air, targeting your parents.

The police figured someone of your dad's rival hired the sniper, you know how it is on the business world. Intense, competitive, but certainly not murder-thirsty.

You are now left alone with your things and somehow, a grand fortune left for you on their will. While that's great, you didn't really have anyone to took care of you. Grandparents have passed, you have no older siblings since after your birth your mother went infertile. So your father's close friend, Yuzuru Suoh, took things in hand and offered you to stay in the academy his son is managing, Ouran Academy.

Of course you agreed, you heard many positive things about the place. So, with the help of the nannies, you packed your stuff and go live in academy. Your personal nannies come live with you too, ensuring you adjust properly to the academy.

A year have passed, and you've grown fond of the academy. You were under the care of Tamaki Suoh, the chairman of the academy. He lets you reign freely around the academy, exploring each area freely. You also go to school there, and you're quite popular too. You've grown fond of him. Another person you admire is Haruhi Fujioka, the academy's lecturer of law and to your surprise, the wife of Tamaki. Sometime's Mr. Tamaki's (as you call him) friends come over, and you really liked them too.

While you're happy with everything going on with the academy, you still feel lonely. Seeing your friends get picked up by fancy cars to their families make you jealous, just bit.

You tell this to Haruhi and Tamaki, which to your surprise, is very happy to help you. They try to find you your forever family, but with a kid like you, it's going to be hard.

"How about the Rodechestire family?"

"No, they're not rich enough."

"Okay... What about the Yoshida's?"

"They're so strict and don't even pick couture!"

"A- How about the Walton's?

"I don't like their cat."

"...Girl, you ain't going anywhere with your kind of standards."

You sat with pouty face while Mrs. Haruhi and Mr. Tamaki talks about something. You heard their conversation from time to time.

"What about my cousin?" "Ryu? With that man...who is it again?" "Kamitani." "Right." "They're great at parenting from babysitting experience, we should give it a chance." "I approve it~!"

You gasped softly hearing their conversation. You got a candidate family? This is great! All you need to do is to see if they fill up your requirment.

After Haruhi and Tamaki breaks the news, you immediately started to pack your things up. Fancy teacups, couture outfits, designer shoes and limited edition bags. All for the hope that this family, maybe atleast decent.

Part 2 coming up!!

Interact in the comment section please 🥺

[goosechcse]

zion  moreno,   26,   transfem,   she/her       𓇢𓆸        my  my,  if  it  isn't   noemi  rios-delgado,   my  favorite   fae   in  town.   you  know,   though  people  say  they  can  be  rather   sybaritic   and   fastidious,   i  know  they’re  really   zealous   and   perspicuous.   but  hey,  what  do  i  know?   i’ve  only  known  her  for   most  of  her  life.   if   you  need  to  get  in  touch,  you  can  probably  find  them  at  their  work  as  a   nail  artist   at   goldie’s  salon   and  a   ranch  hand   at   talking  tree  ranch.

✄ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ … BASIC INFO.

full name: noemi teodora valeria rios delgado ( no - emmy ) nicknames: mimi

age: twenty-six d.o.b: july 18th, 1998 p.o.b: blackwater, colorado.

ethnicity: mexican - american species: fae

gender: transfem pronouns: she/her

✄ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ … WHO DOES NOEMI REMIND YOU OF ??

leah kateb - tv personality — resilient, empathetic, curious

cece parekh - new girl — charastmatic, creative, loyal

katara - avatar — compassionate, determined, resourceful

princess belle - beauty & the beast — intelligent, brave, optimistic

sophie sheridan - mamma mia! — dreamy, adventurous, open-hearted

willow rosenburg - btvs — supportive, evolving, courageous

alice cullen - twilight — playful, intuitive, stylish

keeley jones - ted lasso — resilient, ambitious, open-minded

david rose - schitt's creek — witty, vulnerable, fashionable

elizabeth bennet - pride & prejudice — strong-willed, observant, romantic

✄ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ … QUICK & DIRTY BIO.

content warnings — pregnancy complications & pregnancy related death, gender dysphoria 

  NOEMI GREW UP ON TALKING TREE RANCH, an  extraordinary  and  otherworldly  place  that  ran  in  the  Rios  family  for  generations.  As  the  eldest  child,  she  is  set  to  inherit  it  one  day.  Born  literally   on   ranch  property,  complications  during  her  birth  left  her  mother,  Dora,  with  serious  internal  damage,  making  further  pregnancies  unlikely.  However,  when  Noemi  was  five,  Dora  unexpectedly  became  pregnant  with  twins.  Tragically,  during  their  birth,  Dora  suffered  a  pulmonary  embolism  and  passed  away,  leaving  Noemi's  father  to  raise  three  young  children  alone.  Thankfully,  Dora's  sister,  Ramona,  came  to  the  rescue,  moving  into  the  guest  house  to  help  raise  the  three  young  children.                From  a  young  age,  Noemi  experienced  gender  dysphoria,  which  went  largely  unnoticed  by  her  father  and  tia  until  she  was  about  11.  She  began  exploring  her  identity  without  reserve,  prompting  a  heartfelt  conversation  between  her  father  and  Ramona  about  how  best  to  support  her.  Despite  some  initial  fears,  her  father  ultimately  supported  her  transition.  At  12,  Noemi  changed  her  name  to  honor  her  grandmother  and  mother,  becoming  Noemi  Teodora Valeria  Rios-Delgado.  And  though  she  wouldn't  learn  until  much  later,  Ramona  had,  at  the  time,  ended  her  years  long  relationship  due  to  her  boyfriend’s  lack  of  support  for  Noemi's  transition.                Fast  forward  to  adulthood:  at  17,  Noemi  graduated  early  and  moved  to  California  to  study  animal  sciences  and  agribusiness.  There,  she  thrived,  accessing  gender-affirming  care  and  even  briefly  modeling,  gaining  a  modest  social  media  following.  However,  at  22,  she  returned  home  to  help  her  father  manage  the  ranch  as  her  younger  brothers  faced  serious  issues,  and  he  struggled  to  cope  with  the  weight  of  his  business  alongside  fatherhood.                Back  at  the  ranch,  Noemi  felt  inundated  by  anxiety  and  stress.  One  day,  armed  with  a  necklace  containing  her  mother’s  ashes,  she  fled  to  the  forest  to  walk and reflect,  turning  the  events  of  her  life  over  and  over  in  her  mind.  After a poignant & emotional moment of reflection, she essentially blacked out, and awoke in a perfect circle of trees, her nerves buzzing with a magical energy that she'd never felt before. She ran home in a panic, tears in her eyes as she asked her tia Ramona what was going on. Her aunt pulled her into a private room and sat her down with a cup of tea, before explaining to her the lineage of fae in their bloodline, and the responsibility that came with it.                 Now,  Noemi  is  still  an  influential  figure  on  social  media,  advocating  for  animal  and  trans  rights  and  sharing  about  her  'fairytale'  life  at  the  ranch.

✄ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ … HOT - TO - GO HEADCANONS.

childhood best friend — aged 26 - 28 — any gender — would've went to school with noemi for so long that they were there for her transition & are very close with she and her family.

torrid ex-partner — aged 25 - 30 — any gender — someone that noemi dated soon after returning to blackwater from college roughly 4 years ago, during a very tumultuous time in her life. they were hot and heavy right off the bat, but life threw noemi a million curveballs at once, and she basically ghosted them, out of fear that they would find out what she is and hate her forever. she still harbors feelings for them, but avoids them at all costs. to her, if she stays away from them, she's keeping them safe.

fae friends — aged any — any gender — just some wee fae to commune with amongst the trees <3 !

animal lovin' pals — aged any — any gender — on top of being an animal activism influencer and working with animals on her family's ranch, she has also been volunteering at twin beaks since high school, and she treasures her animal-caring friends very much.

[arkhelios-gameplay]

On the morning of the wedding, Maura's favorite relatives gathered in her kitchen. Catalinia turned it into a makeshift salon with makeup spread out on the counter, her jewelry box on the island counter, and a huge bag with hair products and a curling iron hidden behind it. Callista had brought a cup of coffee and was completely engrossed in managing the schedule, checking her watch every five minutes.

"Maura, you look stunning," Catalinia said cheerfully as she adjusted Maura's veil for the twenty-fifth time. "Evren is going to faint at the altar."

"I'd rather he didn't," Maura said with a small smile. Her mind was reeling with concerns. Not so much for Evren himself as for everything - and everyone - else. She hoped Rachel would behave. She hoped Rachel's child - apparently now children, somehow, according to gossip - would behave. And of course, Claudia was too busy being anxious about the prospect (as in, absolute certainty) that Roman Bellamy was going to show up at the wedding as Rachel's plus one.

"Trent says they got done dressing Evren hours ago," Callista said.

Catalinia snorted. "They're men, they don't understand beauty."

Claudia rolled her eyes. As if Maura didn't always look like a princess who got lost in a fairytale and accidentally landed in their world.

"If I was in charge of Evren, I'd take just as long preparing him," Catalinia said. "Your man is gorgeous, but with some extra makeup, we'd accentuate his features..."

Maura, suddenly uncomfortable with any of her relatives swooning over Evren, decided to change the subject. "Callista, how's everything else coming along?"

"Caterers are ready, the band is ready, your grandparents are late."

As usual, Maura thought, gritting her teeth. Then again, perhaps that was for the best.

[ninjaturtlemaniac]

Thank you for telling us about Harmony and Clover. Could you maybe tell us more about Rosiepuff, Birdie and Ace? Headcanons and fun facts?

No problem, thank you for the questions!

I was actually in the middle of this big post when you messaged.

Cider, Steel, Cabaret, Jewel, Halen, Sable, Harmony, Rosiepuff and Clover facts and general knowledge.

I have to develop Birdie and Ace more as well as Angel and Phoenix, but for now you get these guys <3

Trolls OCs: Fun Facts and General Knowledge

Cider

Favourite Food - Smoked steak 🥩

Cider is a heavy smoker. Candy Cigars 🚬

All the patches on his vest are bands that he's managed. He tells people it's like a business card he can wear, but it's more like a wearable trophy case.

Big gambler, mainly card games but puts big bucks on critter races too.

Hates the alliance between the genres. Believes in the superiority of rock music.

Huge control freak, uses his business for power rather than music.

Steel

Favourite Food - Spicy noodles 🥡 but will eat anything he doesn't have to cook.

Steel is deeply devoted to the Rock Royal Family. After Barb's coronation he got a tattoo of barbed wire on his arm.

Lead singer and lead guitarist in his band Molten Hazard.

Leading distributor of Hard Candy in Rock Troll Territory. Specialising in rock candy sticks, sour straps, jaw breakers and warheads.

Thinks he's more 'respected' than he actually is.

No one in his band ever remembers how to set up their own equipment.

Cabaret

Favourite Food - Mangos 🥭

Can't fly like Classical Trolls but he can sorta float down from a height like he's weightless. (Hollow bones? Weighs nothing)

Keeps his favourite things in his nest.

Used to do beauty pageants.

Likes shiny things and jewelry.

Will happily sit in front of a mirror for hours.

Was addicted to pixy sticks. Between performances and auditions he was relying on them to stay awake.

Very entitled and dramatic. Will ask for the manager every time.

Came from overseas to make it big on 'Broadway' (Or whatever the Trolls Universe equivalent is)

Tends to primp and groom people without asking.

Has a huge family of many brothers and sisters.

His feathers fluff up for different emotions (imagine like a cockatoo)

Jewel

Favourite Food - Lobster🦞 (Trolls eat bugs right? Thought it would be funny if a fancy Troll like Jewel preferred bugs from the ocean)

Before finding Floyd on the street, he hadn't seen another Troll in about 40 years.

Didn't know about the other tribes or the Bergens.

Really likes the beach. He collects shells and even uses one as a cane.

Believe's in fortune tellers.

Old fashioned- keeps the older Troll hairstyle, wants to be married before having children, pulls chairs out for Floyd, opens doors for Floyd.

Leaves all of his fortune and his song rights to Floyd.

Loves listening to Floyd's stories about his family. Doesn't believe Floyd about the other tribes.

Halen

Favourite Food - Breakfast bagels 🥯 Convenient and ready to eat.

Is a trained beautician. An apprentice at her salon destroyed Floyd's bangs.

Halen basically adopted Floyd as her own little brother.

Halen took over the bar when Dom died.

Has a tattoo she hasn't even told Dom about.

Sable

Favourite Food - Sushi 🍣

Has a purebred Saddleback Spider named Fluffy.

Her admirers send her expensive gifts like perfumes, gowns, jewelry and bottles of wine.

Has a prosthetic leg.

Follows Pop as well as Classical music.

Does a lot of stage stuff but wants to try movie roles some day.

Sometimes she worries that she's boring and not very funny.

Can reach whistle tones when singing.

Harmony

Favourite Food - Chocolate 🍫

Her Uncle's nicknamed her Jellybean.

Worries that she won't be able to achieve anything as life changing or impactful as her parents have.

Tends to take on more than she can handle.

Because of the pressure she puts on herself, she often feels like she's not allowed to mess anything up.

Rosiepuff

Favourite Food - Avocados 🥑

Overachiever (Alex Dunphy coded)

Closer to Branch that to Poppy.

She enjoys staying over and doing her homework with Tio Clay and Tia Viva cause their home is usually more calm and quiet than her own.

Peppy lives with Clay and Viva so Rosiepuff spends a lot of time with him as well.

Looks up to her Aunt Sable. She respects all that she's achieved and values her opinion.

Takes part in a sorta 'exchange' with Prince Ash. She stays with Queen Barb for a while and starts to worry cause she likes Rock Music... a lot... How is she supposed to be a Pop representative on a council one day if she's even considering converting to another genre???

She got the 'Fluffleberry tastes good' gene. Her siblings didn't. 😆

Her Uncle's nicknamed her Bud.

Clover

Favourite Food - Pizza 🍕(they get it after every baseball game)

Is a bit of a wild child. Gets caught sneaking out at night.

She is recklessly fearless. Has that teenage attitude where she thinks nothing can hurt her.

Loves baseball. Plays it everyday. ⚾ Collects baseball cards. She and Clay get excited over proper storage and preservation of old cards.

Shares a preference for rap with Tiny Diamond. They jam together a lot.

Clover is very bold and wears a mask of overconfidence because she is worried she'll never find her purpose.

Is considering one day starting a Pop Troll colony far away.

[reigningqueenofwords]

Mine

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 1,526 Warnings: Unprotected sex

Read on AO3

Part 5 of Fat and Beautiful

You and Dean could barely keep your hands off each other lately, and you were not complaining. Morning sex, a quickie here and there, the middle of the night. It didn’t matter how tired, or how sore, the two of you were. It was like he was trying to make up for the time that you’d felt unattractive and untouched.

Sam pounded on your bedroom door one morning, just as Dean was making you giggle. “Can you two stop having sex long enough for a case?” He teased.

“Gimme 10, Sammy!” Dean called back before his lips were against your skin once more.

“Dean!” You squealed with laughter.

Walking into the library, you were pulling your wet hair up into a ponytail. “So, what’s up, Sammy?” You asked, stealing a piece of his toast from his plate.

He chuckled and shook his head as you sat. “Where’s Dean?” He asked, going back to looking at his laptop.

“He’ll be here in a minute.” You shrugged. Taking a bite of the toast, you licked your lips and waited for Sam to start filling you in.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment before Dean came in, a smirk on his face. He ran his hand through his still wet hair. “Now, what can I do for my baby brother?” He teased.

Rolling his eyes, Sam sat back in his chair. “Looks like Y/N is gonna have to play dress up.” He grinned, motioning to you.

“What?” You asked, staring at him. “Dress up?”

“It looks like wealthy women are the targets.” He started. “Mainly at social events. Our best bet is for Y/N to get all dolled up and play socialite.” Sam was way too amused by this. “We’ll have to do some shopping, but nothing a credit card can’t handle. I’ll go with you, as Dean wouldn’t let you out of the damn dressing room.”

You glanced at Dean, and then Sam. “So, let me get this straight- you want me to put on some fancy ass dress, do my hair and make up, and kiss ass with some stuck up bastards?” Sam nodded. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

You stood at the bottom of the stairs of the event you were supposed to waltz into and get the attention of some sick monster. Not exactly something you were looking forward to.

Sam had helped you pick out a long black dress, strapless, and the top was formfitting. He’d conned you into going to a salon to get your hair, nails, and makeup done. You felt like a Barbie doll.

Licking your lips, you gently lifted the front part of your dress, revealing a lovely pair of red high heels. You held your head high, as if you were made of money as you gracefully walked up the stairs.

Both boys had managed to get in as staff. Dean was a waiter who would move through the crowd, a tray of champagne in hand. Sam was basically there to keep older women company on the dance floor. You had teased him when you found that out, calling him a dance pimp. Both were dressed up in tuxes, hair just so, shaved clean, and looking very sharp.

The closer you got to the front doors, the more nervous you became. All the voices blended together, forcing you to calm your breathing.

Dean moved easily through the crowd, smiling at the right times, until he spotted you. You were laughing at something an older man was telling you. He looked to be in his mid-40s, but he took good care of himself. Dean’s jaw tightened momentarily, not liking how he looked at you. He knew that look very well.

“So, you put all this together?” He heard you ask when he was closer to you minutes later.

The man grinned, nodding his thanks to Dean as he took a glass. Handing it to you, he started talking again. “I did.” He sounded so cocky and egotistical. It got on Dean’s nerves. “I built my business from the ground up, I can’t forget where I came from.” As Dean walked away, he rolled his eyes. “How about I give you a tour? It’s my estate, we can go anywhere we please.”

That was bad enough, but when your voice hit his ears, it made it much worse. “I’d love that.” Your voice was flirty, and while he knew it was for the part, it still got to him. It still made the jealousy bubble up inside him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the pair of you walk off towards a side hall, and followed moments later. His tray was set down on the first flat surface he saw, his eyes never leaving the direction you went.

While you moved throughout the crowd, and Dean served drinks, Sam was stuck with the older women. He’d lost count of how many times he’d felt his ass get slapped, pinched, or both. He was starting to wish that Dean had been stuck with this job.

He did a double take when he saw his brother stalk off, no tray in hand. Furrowing his brows, he followed him down a hall. Sighing, he hoped that this would give him just a few minutes of peace, and to have a few minutes of his body not being groped or eyed.

Thankfully, the case was finished at that event. However, that did little to ease Dean’s jealousy. The drive back was tense. His grip on the steering wheel was so tight that his knuckles were white. His jaw was clenched, his eyes staring straight forward.

Sam glanced at him from the passenger’s seat, then to you. You shrugged slightly, not knowing what to do, or say. The only thing that could be heard was the purr of the engine, Dean hadn’t even put on the radio, or a tape.

Looking out the window, you were thankful that you were almost back to the motel. You wanted out of the confines of your dress, and out of the tension of the Impala.

Hearing the door slam behind you, you flinched slightly. Not because you were afraid, but because you hadn’t been expecting it. Turning, you saw Dean pulling his tie from the collar of his shirt, his eyes on you.

Arousal went through your entire being, causing you to rub your thighs together slightly. As he moved closer to you, his coat joined his tie on the floor. His fingers moved down the front of his shirt, unbuttoning each one. Your Y/C/E locked on his green ones, darkened with lust. As he pulled his shirt from his body, your breathing became heavier, enjoying the sight of his bare chest.

Once he was in reach, your nails ran down his chest, earning a low growl from him. You bit your lip as he pulled his belt from the loops, strangely turned on by this side of him. As he toed off his dress shoes, his hands ran over your waist, to the back of your dress. Running your hands up his arms, you could hear the zipper slowly being pulled down.

Nothing needed to be said at the moment. His eyes told you everything you had to know. You were his, completely. Your dress slipped to the floor before his lips crashed against yours, one hand working on freeing himself from his slacks, the other tangled in your hair.

You whimpered into the kiss, feeling your ache for him grow. “You’re mine.” He growled against your lips as he pushed you onto the bed.

As you watched him stroke his member, his pants and boxer briefs at his thighs, your chest was heaving. His hands gripped your underwear, pulling them down your legs, tossing them off to the side. You opened your legs, giving him room to settle between them. He lined up before thrusting into you, making you cry out. “Fuck, Dean.” You moaned, your eyes closing.

His lips brushed down your jaw before sucking lightly on your earlobe. “I love you.” He panted as his pace didn’t let up.

“I-I love you!” Your nails dug into his shoulders as you neared what you knew would be just your first orgasm of that night.

He buried his face in your neck, nipping at it between sucking a dark mark at the base. “You’re fucking mine.” He groaned, causing you to clench around him.

You whimpered and panted through it, clinging to him. “Yours. All yours.” You assured him. You felt his lips turn up into a smile. “And you’re mine.” You told him, voice low, gripping the back of his hair.

Dean moved so that he could look at you. A smirk on his face, his eyes locked on yours. “Yours.” He moaned, snapping his hips forward. Holding himself deep, he filled you, his lips coming down to meet yours hungrily.

As you both came down, you were breathing heavily, your kiss turning lazy and sweet. Smiling into it, you ran your hands up and down his back, neither of you in a rush to move.

[cloveroctobers]

DECEMBER DRABBLES — 3. Ez Reyes 🌨️

A|N: Although it’s looking like a rough start for my winter prompts this year…I’m still at it and I have to be if I’m inspired to before the energy runs out! Anyways…this may count as a drabble? I love writing fluff for EZ although that man is clearly on a dark path in this point in time. Regardless I instantly saw this one on the prompt list that I’m following and thought, ���Ezekiel MFKIN Reyes!”

S/N: + GIF belongs to its rightful owner, I couldn’t exactly pinpoint who created it on google 💚 + touching on the problem of hair in the black community.

PROMPT: #17. “Have you seen my gloves? Seriously? Take them off the dog.”

◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣

You were not off to a good start this morning.

This could be blamed on many aspects that occurred last night…the main one being binge-watching Abbott Elementary (and Sweet Life) was part of it but if anybody asked you, you’d deny it.

It was easy for you to sleep through your ten alarms but having a husband like Ezekiel Lorenzo Reyes, who enjoyed being up at the crack of ass! wouldn’t let you sleep through the fifth alarm.

He was the morning person in the marriage and you were the late-morning person, which is why you slightly thought about changing your hours. You had a successful hair salon business that you shared with your god-brother about half a hour outside of Santo Padre. The work was time-consuming but you enjoyed the idea of perfecting people’s crowns.

You happened to be one of the few accommodating hair stylists out there, having a gentle approach to the tender headed, coming in early and staying late for certain clients if needed. Being pretty fair you did not over-charge for hairstyles like these new hair stylists on the scene often did and took the time to perfect your craft. Doing hair started young for you; the love for hair and tending to your own was the beginning of a eye-opening journey once many salons made you feel demeaned  about your texture.

From begging your mom to not drag you to the salons at the age of six to learning what best works for your texture at ten was a whole new awakening for you. Your mother couldn’t do a thing with your hair and wanted it to be relaxed (just like her own) since she wouldn’t take the time or knew how to best manage it. The moment she relaxed your hair, your grandfather let her have it, shockingly. Normally most men stayed out of women’s business (if they knew what was good for them) especially when it came to hair. Your grandfather became a single father having to raise your mother all on his own, after your grandmother passed with kidney disease when your mother was fifteen.

You learned that your grandfather knew how to tend to your mother’s hair—this was something your mother did not want to share. He told you that he tried his best to encourage your mother to love what grew from her scalp just like his wife did. You’ve seen many pictures of your grandmother who always sported a gorgeous fro in every photo.

The photo you adored the most was a picture of her in her wedding dress, looking over her shoulder, light in her eyes, and a forget me not tucked into her fro.

It was beautiful how carefree she seemed, a smile always on her lips and a twinkle in her eye. That’s how you wanted to be, not only in life but with the hair on your head as well.

There were many times that you wished you got the chance to meet your grandmother. Both of your grandparents were also involved in the civil rights movement and your grandfather seemed to be the only person that didn’t mind sharing his story. You were thankful since it seemed like any conversation that you wanted to have was deemed as you talking back—words by your mother, which was a issue.

It was evident that there were deep-rooted problems with your mother that she wasn’t ready to address yet. You tried your hardest to be empathetic but also realized, thanks to your therapist, that it isn’t only your job to connect with your mother. You were healing from your own childhood trauma that she was part of and you didn’t hate her but distance was needed. Love shouldn’t be heavy, especially when it came to the woman that once held you in her womb.

And so you dealt with her verbal abuse as a kid until spending summers in Georgia with your grandfather gave you purpose. You had the idea with your grandfather at just eleven years old to cut your damaged hair off. Your grandfather did the honors of buzzing the rest off for you in the pink tile bathroom and the twinkle that appeared in your eye afterwards…matched his late wife’s.

That moment was kept a secret during your two month stay and you actually did some heads for the very first time for kids on the cul- de-sac. Your grandfather witnessed this with pride and even took you to a salon where you met a woman named Carlotta. She was welcoming and encouraging after learning that you worked on two kid’s heads that came to see her occasionally. Carlotta even let you work in the shop twice a week during your stay and once you started working on a few adults heads (a choice you did on your own after she was dealing with her own personal issues) at eleven years old? She told you had a gift and you knew your purpose.

Now you were running late to the shop, knowing you were pushing it by the time you were fumbling with your hair in the bathroom. The change in weather was making your hair dry and it was time that you did a hair mask soon. You knew your god-brother would give you a mouth-full if you didn’t take care of it before he did your first wig-install in two weeks.

Adding the right amount of oil to your hair and scalp, you combed, brushed, and decided to slick your hair into a Sade braid for the day, adding some elastics to sections of the braid to make it more fun. Once satisfied, you checked the time again as you got back into the bedroom, thankful that EZ made the bed for you and scrambled to grab your earmuffs and bag.

Your first appointment was at 8:45am and you already knew you were going to be somewhat late. Thankfully this appointment was a simple rod-set and wouldn’t take too much time to get your client done. Thudding down the steps of your bungalow, you heard your stomach rumbling and figured you’d just have to UberEATS breakfast to the shop.

Sitting on the bench, you shoved your feet into your trainers then reached for your black trench coat to place over your clothes for the workday.

“Hey. I know you’re not leaving without this.” Ez called out to you, most likely from the dining room.

Sending out a text to your god-brother, you slipped your bag onto your shoulder slightly jogging back to the dining room where your husband sat comfortably at the head of the table. Of course he looked amazing so early in the morning, snug long sleeve white-thermal shirt on, decorated with his tags and grey sweats on and his skin? We loved a moisturized king! He most likely got his pre-workout done already if he was having tea and oatmeal. Usually he only sat down for breakfast if he worked out already and didn’t need to be at the club until later that morning.

EZ looked up from his phone, his hand already held out your YETI which was filled with orange juice. “No coffee and heavy breakfast while you’re on the road. We both know how that doesn’t agree with your system. I already slipped a protein bar into your bag while you were in the shower and the real breakfast should be there by the time you get to the shop.”

“You’re a good man,” you cooed gripping Ez’s chin, his facial hair pricking your fingertips as you connected your lips.

Ez laughed into the kiss after a couple of pecks, “eh, depends who you ask mi amor.”

“I’m not asking anybody anything,” you replied with a shrug of your shoulders, “I know my man.”

“Period, uh.” Ez slipped his hands beneath your trench coat to give your backside in your cozy sweats a nice squeeze.

Pointing at the man you said, “don’t ever do that again.”

Ez smiled up at you, “i promise I won’t. Have a good day sweetheart, let me know when you get there.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You kissed his lips again which made him lick his own.

“Mm, is that a brown sugar chapstick?”

“I have no idea. I just snatched whatever was in the night stand.” You breathed, stepping back from the man who simply nodded his head in understanding, “you heading to the club soon?”

“‘Round eleven or after. Gonna take Sally for a walk, nap and then head out,” EZ answered as he picked up his mug, “it’s your late day right?”

“Yes,” you sighed, “last client is coming in at five. Pray for me.”

“Always do.” Ez grinned, “I love when you do the braid by the way, allows me to see that prettiness in full.”

Having a good gulp of OJ you held out your hand to EZ, your wedding ring glistening in the dining room, which made him smile with fulfillment as he awaited your feedback, “keep treating me well and I might mess around and get pregnant with a real baby instead of a fur baby by new year’s.”

“Please tempt me with a good time.” Ez mentioned, sending a wink your way, making you groan and throw your head back.

Stomping out you yelled, “Bye, Ezekiel!”

“See you later!” Ez chuckled to himself, turning his attention back to his phone once you were out of his sight.

Thankful to have not only a loving husband and a automatic starter, that you forgot to start before Ez called you into the dining room, you flinched as your hands rested on the steering wheel. Immediately your hands went to mess with the knobs to crank the heat up, shaking your head at the brawny man for messing with the temperature in the car.

He was warm blooded and you were always cold. It was a whole debate inside of the house but in the car, you did not comprise despite the increase of gas prices. You couldn’t stand being cold and EZ knew that.

Checking the time again on the dashboard, you searched your glove department for your gloves, then the console, the backseat pockets, and the side holders in the doors but couldn’t find them. Sighing you threw the driver’s side door open again, allowing the winter air to bite at your cheeks as you jogged around your car and back to your home.

You just knew your gloves had to be on the bench and you previously overlooked them. Unlocking the door, which took a little bit of a tussle thanks to the cold, you made a mental note (that you would probably forget during the day) that you or EZ needed to use the WD-40 so neither of you didn’t experience a broken key again this winter.

Zoning in on the bench in the entry way, your eyes scanned the object and then you crouched down to the cubbies, feeling around for the gloves just to not locate them.

“Ez,” you called out, “have you seen my gloves? The Prada ones?”

Lifting your head, you spotted EZ standing down the hallway, your eyes shifting to Sally, your pitbull who had her paws resting up on his thighs, “Seriously? Take them off Sally.”

EZ smiled sheepishly at you as Sally peered over at you in annoyance. It was evident that your girl was sick of his mess too. He was a typical dog dad, taking the girl everywhere he could when he had the car, if you weren’t in the passenger seat you can only guess who was and forcing her into costumes when it was clear she didn’t care to be dressed up. He simply liked bothering your teenage fur baby, that’s all.

“I thought you’d be gone already and wouldn’t mind letting Sally borrow them on our walk,” Ez told you, while you stepped forward and held out your hands for the item.

Sighing Ez took them off Sally’s paws, who dropped them back to the wood floor and sat, watching the exchange.

“You got lucky this time, girl.” Ez pointed at Sally who just blinked and looked over at you.

“I know, he’s a real pain in the ass and if I had the time, I’d beat him up for you.” You told Sally who wagged her tail in response.

Ez huffed as he leaned over, slapping the gloves into your outstretched hands, “I just wanted to have a trial run with her since,” He whispered to you, “I got her some mitts for Christmas to protect her paws for our daily jogs and walks.”

“She’s not gonna wear them,” you shoved your hands into the gloves, “you know Sally trots to her own drum. She might even think they’re chew toys; you saw what she did to those Halloween costumes two months ago.”

Ez stretched at his brow, “have a little faith please. Maybe her favorite holiday is Christmas and she’ll be on her best behavior. We haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Her favorite holiday is sleeping and chewing shit up, then acting like she didn’t do it. It requires minimum effort on her part.”

Sally growled a bit before barking.

“I think you struck a nerve,” Ez joked, “and you might want to keep those gloves in the car if you know what’s good for you.”

Fanning your gloved hands at the two you spun on your heels, “On that note, I’m outta here. love you two, be good.”

“We love you too but…no promises.” Ez murmured as he smiled at your retreating form that began closing the front door, now putting a leash on Sally and giving her a good pet.

◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣ ◢✥◣

Continue along with my December anthology prompts here.

[pipsdelhi62]

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[timextoxhajima]

EMPATH [2]: Home Away from Home

EMPATH Chapter Navi

୫ Pairing: Empath! [fem] reader! x ex! Jake Sim x best friend! Park Sunghoon

୫ Genre: Slice of Life | Ex2F | F2L | Comedy | Angst | Suggestive Material | Supernatural

୫ Word Count: 4.2k words

୫ Taglist: @ac-ewow @i2gyus​ @sseastar-main​ @majesticallymark​ @moonchus @from-xero​ @hoonberrie @sleepingrenjun​ [please use this link to submit your user to stay on this taglist!]

୫ Synopsis: A strict household. A single, closed-off workaholic for a grandparent/ guardian. You had curated the perfect habit of keeping to yourself, cementing an unbreakable wall between you and the rest of the world. However, you’ve been bestowed with a gift - the gift to feel other people’s emotions. 

"y/n!"

"Yeah?" You shove the last of your clothes into your duffel, waiting for an answer.

Nothing.

"Yeah?!"

"y/n!"

Genuine agitation sucks your lungs dry. But you're almost out of here, just hang in there for a little longer. You dump your duffel down to the floor and walk out your room, the wooden flooring thunking with every step.

"Why do you walk so aggressively?" Your grandmother questions once you've gotten within her sight. "Are you unhappy?"

She was sat at her table, glasses perched on the tip of her nose with a stylus in her hand. Sometimes, you wondered how she had managed to get by all these years without dying from a heart attack, especially since her temper wears so thinly that you breaking something would piss her off through and through.

The frustration is amplified when you step into her office.

"What is it?" You suck in a deep breath and look around, already searching for a bag of trash to throw or a used mug she would've wanted you to wash for her. "I'm leaving soon. Sunghoon's mum is coming to give me a lift."

"Sunghoon's mum?" She frowns and drops the pen, leaning back in her seat. "Well, why don't you take a taxi? Why'd you make her detour here? We're not convenient to get to, you know."

"He told me his mum offered and of course I said yes, what's wrong with her wanting to give me a lift?"

"Well, it's not like we're broke or anything. You have more than enough in your bank account, don't you? Have you been spending the money on other useless things like clothes or accessories?"

Deep breath. Deep breath.

"What is it you called me here for?"

She pulls her glasses off and crosses her hands over her stomach. "I just wanted to ask if you were all packed and ready to go."

"I was literally doing that, and I'm gonna be late when Sunghoon's mom comes to fetch me."

"Well, it's just that... you're travelling across the country, so I thought I should check in on you before you leave, anything wrong with that?"

She says it with such poise, it annoys you.

She had worked every day of her life since she was 17. Even when she met my grandfather, it was under working circumstances. They were colleagues and then positioned as partners in a joint business programme - you could say she fell in love with the perfectionist, becoming one herself in the process.

Even when she was pregnant with my father, she took exactly 24 hours off after labour before she was back in her home office.

I haven't really heard much about her. Well, how could I, when the one person who knows the most about her isn't with me? I suppose that's the reason why she was completely okay with my parents leaving me with her to have their own corporate adventures - because she would've done that too.

She isn't your neighbourhood friendly grandma, I think that's pretty obvious. She owns a good variety of branded goods, ranging from bags to make up and shoes and she has a routine of visiting a celebrity salon every month to get her hair permed and dyed a beautiful silver, as if her hair isn't already a soft white.

She works from home most of the time now. Only going to the office whenever there are big conferences with long-time partners or big-named companies but otherwise, she uses me as an excuse to stay at home.

But it's not like she spends that much time interacting with me.

"Thank you... for your concern," With a slow, deep breath, you acknowledge. "But I have a couple more things to pack and check before I go so... if you'll excuse me."

Rotating around on your heels, you turn your head first, trying your best to break the direct communication line with her. The longer you stay in the room talking to her, the more it worsens the weight of her frustration and slight annoyance and passive aggressiveness on your chest.

There's a gentle clack as she picks her glasses up from the table and resumes her typing on the keyboard. "You had all week to pack and yet you're rushing right now?"

Deep. Breath.

"It's stuff that I've been using the past couple of days like my laptop and my iPad and my chargers," Calling out behind your shoulder, you slowly but surely walk away from her office.

Finally, she relents.

The house falls into silence. For a split second, the five-hundred-grand statue in the corner of the hallway looked tempting to shove over onto the stairs.

You were struggling down the steps of the main hall's staircase with your duffel and haversack when the front door rings, and the sigh of relief to know that it was Sunghoon let out was too fast - your grandmother's going to come out and chat him into tea or something.

"Why'd you ring the doorbell?" You whisper harshly, quickly handing him the heavier bags. "You know she's gonna come and poke her nose around!"

"Whaaat?" He whines, obediently taking your duffel bag and haversack. "My mom's right outside, you think she'd let me go without a smack or two if I didn't greet your grandmother?"

"Hi, y/n! Excited?" The driver's window rolls down, and his mother leans over into the passenger's seat with a wide grin on her face.

She's too far for me to read.

"Where's your grandmother?"

"She's just a tad bit-"

"Is that Mrs Park?" And the gentle smacking of her home slippers come down the same flight of stairs into your little bubble where nobody should step into.

"Hi, Mrs l/n," Sunghoon greets first, immediately lowering his head. "Sorry, we're late."

You frown and squint at him, away from her sight, then you immediately turn to her and smile through the pride that was holding her chin high. "He's not late."

"No, of course, of course!" She waves it off. "Exciting time, isn't it, Mrs Park? Thank you for offering to drive her. I would've just gotten her a taxi instead of having you make a detour here."

"Not at all! Think Sunghoon would feel a little lonely if he didn't have a friend by his side on his first day."

"That sounds so much worse than it actually is," He rolls his eyes, lifting your duffel and bag off the porch, hoisting it down the steps and dumping them into the boot of the car.

"I'm sure y/n feels the same!" Your grandmother found the need to chime in. But you walk down the steps, a safe distance away from her.

"Okay, we're set," Sunghoon walks around the car to the other side. "Bye, Mrs l/n!"

"Oh, bye bye, now! y/n, text me whenever you're coming home!"

"'Kay."

"I'll see you soon, Mrs l/n!" Sunghoon's mother bids her farewell once more before rolling up the windows, and the car finally moves off with the scent of his mother's perfume wafting about in the vehicle.

Sunghoon's mother is a lot more arrogant and needy than you think she is. The first time I met her, she was so filled with disappointment that I wasn't strikingly gorgeous or a scholar student, it was almost funny.

And yet all I saw that day was that beautiful service smile plastered into her face.

And then the first time she met my grandmother, she was so eager to prove her worth like she was kowtowing to some higher deity. It was horrible to watch. To Sunghoon, it was a parent-meet-guardian session.

To me? Any lower, and she would've been kissing my grandmother's feet.

"Nice, we're in the same building," Sunghoon looks at his room number and yours. The unit numbers were printed on the keycard given to each of you.

"I'm not travelling to go to yours so you better come to mine," Pulling your bag straps around your shoulders, you bend down to pick up your duffel. But Sunghoon beats you to it, brushing his air-conditioner-frozen-fingers across yours.

"Jeez, was it that cold in the car? Come on, give me that," You frown slightly, trying to take the duffel from him.

"Nah, my fingers get cold easily. It was already a problem when I was skating, don't worry about it," He shakes his head and his hair bounces on his forehead. There was a little smile on his lips that you didn't miss, and for a split second, that warmth engulfs your heart.

But you ignore it, choosing to let Sunghoon keep his manlet pride and leave him to haul your bags to your room.

“Oh, by the way! I got you a doortag,” Sunghoon leaves your bags on the floor and scuffles through his own. “Cute, right?”

It’s a palm-sized wooden plank with your name written in calligraphy style on it, surrounded with stickers and smiley faces. 

“Aw, thanks,” Taking it from him, you feel a grin bearing your teeth. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything. I would’ve if I knew we were.”

“Nah,” He shrugs it off, turning around and walking to the windows to open them. 

I don't know why it hasn't crossed my mind to tell Sunghoon, though he's as good as being considered as my best friend now. Though it has been a little more than 2 years since we met, I just... never thought I would tell him about this godforsaken ability.

I mean, what for? He can't change the fact that I have it, nor can he control what people are feeling, and therefore, mine.

Besides, don't think Sunghoon would really give a shit. He's too occupied with trying not to fail his first semester in college.

Instead of unpacking your room, you really spend the time on your bed, staring at the ceiling and enjoying the comfort of being with yourself. The only reason you didn't choose a room with a roommate is just so you could be alone.

That doesn't come often nowadays.

The room smells musty, but not too overwhelming. The bed is old, but at least there aren't any holes. There was a surprisingly pretty view out the window, and just in the distance, you could make out the coast where the students here were known for throwing beach parties and events at.

Unfortunately, this place was nothing but a brand-new slate with the same problem.

Sunghoon had walked you to your first class on your first day because it was on the way to his. He knew you were antsy, but he didn't know that it was because you were feeding off him and everybody else who walked past you.

There had been little glances at Sunghoon from the students that walked past, hints of surprise and speculation when they think "I've seen this guy before somewhere, but where?"

You should've expected it when you found out Jake was coming to the same college as you. You had overlapping subjects you were interested in, and that raised the chances of being in his classes; being in the same groups as him; even getting dumped in a spot right next to him in a lecture hall.

But not because the lecturer still gave a shit about seating arrangement, but because Jake is a pesky little parasite that wouldn't avoid you. He still treats you like a friend, like someone he knew, and Jake Sim would never treat a friend like he or she were invisible.

"Thought I'd see you in this class," He strides up the lecture hall stairs and stops at the row you were sitting in.

"It's a big class and a common module, don't get too ahead of yourself," You squint and twirl your pen around your fingers.

"I assume Sunghoon doesn't take the same course as you?" Jake doesn't bother to be subtle - he walks towards you and squeezes his way between your knees and the seat infront of you to the one next to you, thighs brushing against you through your jeans and his ripped ones.

"No, he's in Sports Science," With a sharp glare, you pull your knees back and let him through.

"What about dormitories? Do you stay near each other?"

"Same block," The entire row of seats creak and weigh backwards when he dumps himself in the seat next to you. "Why are you being like this?"

"Being like what?" Jake looks up through his fringe, puppy eyes tearing through you.

Memory involuntarily flushes through you. You were once in love with those puppy eyes. You'd do anything for him, and he'd do anything for your cold, emotionless ones. The weight in your voice and attitude towards him now is uncalled for but it's a sure-fire way to keep him at bay - you have more than enough on your plate right now.

"Like this. Like we didn't date. Like I didn't yell at you for not being able to understand."

He's stunned, for he keeps his silence for a few moments, puppy eyes fading into deep, thoughtful ones. For those few seconds, he looks a little more mature than the flirty, playboy he is now.

"You give me very little credit for being a forgiving person."

"I've never doubted that," Your own honesty surprises you. "It's the fact that you're talking to me like you forgot it happened."

Jake's gaze is too hard to hold, so you look away first. Your heart hurts. It's a reminder that Jake is probably feeling the same, and yet you can't take the burden of it.

If it's anybody's heartache you'd want to take, it would've been his.

You know Jake is still looking at you, at a loss of words. Maybe he isn’t, but he can't say them. You spend the entire lecture in silence, and before he could bid you goodbye at the end of it, you choose to run off into an endless ocean of feelings that didn't belong to you.

Knock knock.

Knock knock.

Knock.

"y/n! Are you in there?"

The muffled voice drags you out of your afternoon slumber - or at least what started out as one. The sun had set and the room had fallen into a dim shade, with the sky outside a wondrous mixture of blue and orange.

Knock knock. "y/n, wakey wakey!"

With a gentle grunt, you slide yourself off the bed and ruffle the hair on the back of your head. Eyes squinted and feet cold, you pull the door open and let the corridor lights blind you for a second.

"Day one and you've already passed out?" Sunghoon has his bag over his right shoulder, fingers wrapped around the strap.

Your blurry vision travels from his Converse-covered feet to his face, where the lights behind him were still rendering the sight of him darker. But you can see that his hair was slightly out of place compared to when you first saw him this morning. The hairspray had worn off and little locks of fringe were beginning to cover his forehead.

"I'm tired, leave me alone," You turn on your heels, leaving the door open. Sunghoon follows in behind you, watching you head for the desk light.

"So I'm thinking... we could go to the beach and see if there's anything to eat for dinner."

Your butt sinks into the spring of the mattress, hair still in a mess and your fingers are getting tangled up in them as you comb through the strands.

"Or we could just order in, I don't-" A yawn. "I don't think I wanna go out."

"Aw," There's a spark of disappointment that sinks in your chest, like a little firework that failed to shoot off into the sky. Sunghoon takes a seat at your desk. "But we were so excited about the beach."

"Beach isn't going anywhere," You tilt your head and study him for a moment. There's a tiny pout on his face that doubles as a gentle nudge for you to rethink your decision, but above that, there's a little jump in your chest when you lock eyes with him.

Sunghoon has always been a silent persuader. The kind that spoke with his eyes and his feelings. He sulks when he doesn't get what he wants but he only sulks in front of certain people. I was one of them.

"Are you buying me dinner?"

His eyes light up upon the thought of you agreeing, but his shoulders slack and he sneers a little. "Depends on what it is."

"How's your bank looking?"

Sunghoon leans back in the chair and supports the back of his neck with interlocked palms. "Hm, I think I can do ten to fifteen bucks."

A moment to consider the pros and cons. Sunghoon turns his head just to look at you through the corner of his eyes.

"If you don't wanna hang out with me, just say so," He squints and almost rolls his eyes. "I have other friends."

"Oh, do you?" Now, your interest is piqued. It's fun teasing him.

"I do, yeah," He insists, this time, getting off the chair and taking his bag along with him. "Now, you have one minute to get out of bed and get changed for a ten-to-fifteen-buck-dinner or else I'm gonna go find my other friends."

With a light chuckle, you give in, the childish pout on his face difficult to resist. "Okay, okay, give me at least five, would you?"

Sunghoon snorts, swinging his bag out of the way so he can pull out his wallet and phone. "That's what I thought," He pauses, holding your gaze and slowly blinking at you. The moment feels a little surreal, like the kind that would feel like a fever dream in retrospect. Something in his eyes glimmer, and for a fleeting moment, there was a dying urge to take a small step toward him, close the distance between the two of you.

Nothing but a fleeting moment.

"Five minutes," With a slight eyebrow raise, Sunghoon blinks away the extended eye contact and turns away first. "I'll go check if there are any nearby cars for rent."

"What? Why do you need to drive?" You call out after him, who pulls the door open and walks into the hallway, leaving the door closing slowly behind him.

"Just 'cause!"

Sometimes I wish I hadn't met Sunghoon. Not in a bad way, but in a 'so I can't hurt you' way. People always talked about how great it'd be to read minds and know what someone's thinking about, but they don't consider the dilemmas and thoughts they'd conjure if they did.

The fear is there, that something would happen between Sunghoon and I, something I can't control, and that I wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

Being hurt on my own is one thing, but feeling someone else's pain, at the depth they do? Not fun.

Imagine what would happen if I can't process that amount of pain? Do I keep it to myself? Do I share this burden? Do I let it back out and let it ricochet off each other like a fucking Ping-Pong ball?

"Hold it," Sunghoon holds out the paper bag of burger and fries to you.

"How confident are you about the mat being clean?"

Sunghoon flaps open the picnic mat and sets it down into the sand. He found it in the boot of the rented car, but God knows how long it's been there.

"I'm not," He shakes his head, not even bothering to look up at you.

You sigh an uncomfortable sigh, watching him weigh down the corners of the mat with his bag and his shoes as he stumbles into the middle of it.

He stretches for the bag of food so you can remove your shoes, and by the time you've settled onto the mat, Sunghoon was already halfway through his burger.

"Could've told me you were hungry."

"Mm," He shakes his head, mindlessly munching on his dinner. "I wasn't. I just saw the food and got hungry. Here, take yours."

In the distance, there were still hints of the sun in the navy-blue sky. Dark, mandarin strips cutting through the slightly heavy clouds, where the moon was just barely visible in its crescent shape.

"How were your first classes today?" Sunghoon picks out a couple of napkins from the paper bag and tosses them into your lap.

"Fine," You pick up the napkins and gently fold them.

I met Jake.

"Make any new friends?"

"Does it look like I did?" You raise a skeptic brow and glance at him.

"I don't know, you're unpredictable sometimes," He shrugs.

I'm unpredictable? I literally reflect the feelings of whoever it is I'm talking to.

A smile unconsciously surfaces on your lips as you bite into the burger.

"Do you remember Jake from Jay's party?"

The smile slowly fades.

"Yeah, why?"

"He's in one of my classes. Saw him walk in with Jay and they said hi from afar."

"Ah, so he didn't come sit with you?" You pick out a sachet of chilli and squeeze it on a napkin for your fries.

"Nope, but they might next class."

"Are they your 'friends'?"

"Back off," Sunghoon giggles and gentle pushes you by the shoulder. 

His little giggle sounds like music to your ears. Sometimes, you can’t really get enough of him, though sometimes difficult to pry open. But you knew you were the same, so you’re in no position to criticise him for it. The friendship might’ve been short - if you even consider a 2-year-old best-friendship short. But if you had to choose someone to tell your entire life’s secrets to, it’d be Sunghoon. Sometimes, you wished that it wasn’t the case, because since day one, you hadn’t believed that this friendship could’ve stayed platonic. 

One of us would fall eventually. 

Little airplanes in the sky emit blue, white and red blinking lights like strange, moving stars in space. If you listened hard enough, you could hear the engine roaring through the clouds. 

Out in the corner of your eye, Sunghoon leans back, resting his weight on his arms as he gazes out into the water. 

“The water is so satisfying to look at,” He quietly comments. Humming in agreement, you turn to look at him - only to find him already looking at you. 

“What?” The little annoying things in your stomach called ‘butterflies’ suddenly take flight like a child chasing a flock of birds. 

Sunghoon takes a moment, searching your face as if you had something on it. 

“What? Is there something on my face?” You pick up your phone and turn the camera on, squinting in a bid to find any hint of chilli or cheese on your face. 

But you’re greeted by a little chuckle from Sunghoon, before he grabs your phone and opens Instagram instead. “There’s nothing on your face, don’t worry about it.”

And with that, he holds up the phone with the selfie mode on, and snaps a picture where you were clearly unready. 

Later, back in your dorms, you have tears in your eyes as you hold your phone out to Sunghoon, a stupid TikTok playing on your screen. He’s laughing too, eyes disappeared off his face and his hand covering his mouth as he snorts and chokes on his saliva. 

But you turn around the corner and your laughter stops upon the sight outside your room. 

You abruptly halt in your footsteps first, then Sunghoon, who looks up at the somewhat familiar face, then at you. 

“What are you doing here?”

Jake blinks, looking between the two of you as if Sunghoon wasn’t just holding onto your shoulder, trying to catch his breath, walking you back to your room.

“I...” There’s a folder in Jake’s hand. “You left really fast today- from class- and the professor forgot to give something out, so I said I could get it to you. It’s just...” He points his thumb over his shoulder to your doortag hanging from the handle. “Wasn’t that hard to find you.”

An unexplainable weight rests on your chest. You’re about to take a step forward and take it from him, tell him to leave before it gets awkward - but Sunghoon beats you to it. 

“Jake, right?” Sunghoon holds a hand out. “I’m sorry we had to meet under such immature circumstances at the New Year’s party the other day.”

There’s a hint of confusion, then a hint of determination, and you’re even more confused when Jake looks confused. 

“I... yeah, Sunghoon, right?” He takes Sunghoon’s hand. “No, don’t... don’t sweat it. It was fun.”

Sunghoon smiles, turning just enough to lock eyes with you. 

A look you cannot read. 

“Thanks for delivering this,” He proceeds to receive the folder from Jake. “I didn’t get the chance to ask this the other day, but how do you know y/n?”

A frown forms on your head.

“Uh-” Jake clears his throat. “We were friends from awhile back.”

“Ah,” Sunghoon nods, looking down at his feet and rubbing his nose. Then, he looks up, eyes clear as crystal. “Nice to meet you. I’m Sunghoon, y/n’s boyfriend.”

[sweetdreamsjeff]

THE GOOD, THE BAD, & THE LAUNDRY WITH BRENDA KAHN

In Features, Interviews by Jason L.05.28.19

Originally published at Hard Rock RPM

Poet. Guitarist. Songwriter. Publisher. Activist. Mother. Brenda Kahn’s music career stretches from the anti-folk scene of the East Village in the early 1990s to a recently published book of poetry about parenting aptly titled The Good, The Bad, And The Laundry. Along the way, Kahn recorded with her friend Jeff Buckley, played Lilith Fair multiple times, ran a website focused on women in music, and answered the call when Bob Dylan wanted her to open a show. While she may have traded the drug dealers of Avenue A for her children and a life in the countryside, Kahn’s keen eye for detail continues to serve her well.

...

The Ryan Adams news was not the least surprising in terms of the issues that persist in the business. How much of that did you experience during your career? While I feel like the 90s were a hugely successful time for women in music, I am terrified to imagine what the artists were experiencing.

I think this is finally changing because of access to the internet. I wish I’d been able to google “Should I get a Fender or a Gibson guitar”.  Or “what are the chords to “Like a Rolling Stone” back when I was in high school. I met several guys along the way who treated me as total equals.  One of whom was Jeff Buckley who taught me the two drum beats I can play on a kit now. And my producer Tim Patalan on Outside the Beauty Salon, who handed me a guitar and said – “You play the lead.”

...

Any memories about touring with Dylan and Buckley that you could share?

Opening for Bob Dylan was one of those bucket list moments that seemed so unlikely, it wasn’t even on the list. We found out about the tour dates while I was in France doing a promotional tour for Epiphany in Brooklyn. My manager busted into the room and said he had good news and bad news.  The good news was I was going to open for Bob Dylan, the bad news was I wasn’t allowed to open for him solo acoustic. I had to have a band. I was in France, the show was in two weeks, and the guys I made the album with were all on tour with other artists. Of course, I said yes.  I had just written the song “too far gone” and the timing was all over the place.  I didn’t know if I would get in trouble, but the band dropped out and I did that one song solo acoustic.  The feeling of being on that stage, where you could hear a pin drop, singing to 6000 Bob Dylan fans… best ever moment.

With Jeff Buckley it was really different because we were friends.  I don’t have a lot of tour stories because we were in different vehicles, but we would hang out at sound checks and play blues songs sometimes or eat together, but mostly we played our shows and went onto the next town.  But my memories of Jeff are more about hanging out in New York.  We spent hours together doing nothing.  Shopping in random thrift stores or making up dumb songs on the guitar.  In my mind, I can see him wheeling my 50lb amp down 9th street to a gig at Brownies, I remember him calling me last minute to come see him open up for Patti Smith at Irving Plaza.

The one serious recording we made together came from a time we were in my apartment and he was playing my tele, this really beautiful riff, and I said, ‘I have something that might work for that’ and started reading these snippets of poems I had written in these tiny notebooks. After about 10 minutes he stopped and looked at me and said “four-track”.  So funny because now you would just pull up an app on your iPhone and click a button, but back then, you had to set up microphones and plugin guitars and set levels. Jeff had a reel to reel tape machine in his apartment.  Anyway, that song turned out to be “Faith Salons” and it’s one of the last things he recorded.  When I hear his foot tapping and his vocals in the background it gets me every time.

[julie-hollis]

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒

Name: Julie Hollis (née Chaichana)

Age: 34

Occupation: Owner of Shear Beauty/Cosmetologist

Affiliation: Neutral

Gender & Pronouns: Cisgender Female (she/her)

Faceclaim: Nattasha Bunprachom (Yoghurt Nattasha)

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘

tw child neglect

Julie Chaichana’s mom was only a mother in the loosest sense of the word. But she was the only parent Julie had and no one gets to pick who they're born to.

As a young child, Julie loved the constant cycles her mother went through. Each new hobby came with a new home, a new city, and a new man.

With each move, Julie found herself surrounded by more adults than children her own age. Julie buried herself in her studies and tried to be a good girl but she learned sometimes it didn’t matter how good she was, bad things happened.

Well-meaning neighbors noticed. They made some noise after Julie spent a whole week alone. Her grandmother was forced to take full custody, and Julie was forced to move to Paxton, Arizona. She was only ten.

Julie developed a bit of a wild streak as a teenager. Much like her mother, she preferred to spend time with her friends and school went on the back-burner.

Julie technically met her husband, Caid, in middle school, but they didn’t start dating until high school. He was supposed to go to college on a scholarship and Julie was supposed to move with him. She liked cutting hair and there were plenty of salons in the city.

Things didn’t work out that way, though. As that last summer came to a close, things changed. Caid was going off the college path to go to rodeos; instead of moving to the city, he would travel and while Julie could have tagged along things began to sink in: she didn’t want to bounce around for years on end. She didn’t want the uncertainty of another loved one constantly coming and going from her life.

So, despite the regret she later felt, she broke things off. They had periods of silence and friendship over the years, but the underlying tension always remained.

When a career-ending injury led Caid back to Paxton for good the silver lining was they were finally on the same page. They were engaged, married, and parents within the next three years.

Shear Beauty was an inheritance of sorts. She was a mother who was hungry and worked hard. When the old lady had to retire and only had a gaggle of sons who didn’t want the place, she gifted it to Julie.

Julie’s been working hard to keep the place competitive amidst the changes to Paxton. Some years have been easier than others, both professionally and personally, but Julie’s determined to keep going for her family and herself.

𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐂

Julie likes to think that she doesn't want much out of life. She wants her kids to have a good life: loving parents who love each other, a couple of pets, food in their bellies, a roof over their heads. Stability -- that is all Julie ever wanted and most days she thinks the two of them have it all figured out. Her husband's involvement with the Cowboys has never brought trouble to their door and that's enough for her worry to stay at bay; it doesn't mean they’re gone, though. They might have a roof over their heads and food on the table, but money's never exactly been plenty for the Hollis family. As the town's climate begins to change, Julie finds herself with business offers that are difficult to refuse. For the past couple of years, Julie's managed to stand her ground and keep her eye on the business and her family. She'll do just about anything to protect the life she has. It might not be much to most, but it's hers and Julie will not let it go without a fight.

Inspiration

Camila Dunne (from Daisy Jones and the Six), Tyra Collette (from Friday Night Lights), Astrid Magnussen (from White Oleander)

Aesthetic

Her momma’s smokers cough, locks of hair dusting the floor, laughing while line dancing, a screen door screeching on the track, hoop earrings strewn across a scarred coffee table, work boots with slip dresses

[vigneshvipsline]

Salon Management Software: The Key to Streamlining Your Salon Business

Salon management software has emerged as a game-changer, revolutionizing the way salons operate. This blog will delve into the essentials of salon management  and explore the transformative role of salon POS software in streamlining business operations.

I. Understanding Salon Management:

Salon management involves overseeing the various aspects of a salon business, from appointment scheduling and inventory management to employee scheduling and customer relationship management. The goal is to create a seamless experience for both clients and salon staff.

II. The Importance of Salon Management Software:

Appointment Scheduling:

Efficiently manage appointments, reduce no-shows, and optimize staff schedules with the help of salon management software. Clients can book appointments online, and staff can access real-time schedules, enhancing overall workflow.

Inventory Management:

Keep track of products, manage stock levels, and streamline the ordering process. Salon management software helps avoid product shortages, reducing the risk of missed sales opportunities.

Customer Relationship Management (CRM):

Build lasting relationships with clients by utilizing CRM features. Personalized client profiles, appointment history, and automated reminders contribute to enhanced customer satisfaction and loyalty.

III. Salon POS Software: A Closer Look:

What is Salon POS Software?

Salon POS software, or Point of Sale software, is a specialized system designed to handle transactions and streamline the sales process in a salon. It combines the functionality of a cash register with advanced features tailored to the unique needs of the beauty industry.

Key Features of Salon POS Software:

Transaction Processing:

Facilitate quick and secure transactions, including cash, credit cards, and digital payments, providing convenience for both clients and staff.

Inventory Integration:

Seamlessly integrate with salon management software to ensure real-time updates on product availability and sales data.

Appointment Management:

Sync with the appointment scheduling system to unify the booking and payment processes, reducing wait times and enhancing the overall client experience.

Reporting and Analytics:

Generate comprehensive reports on sales, popular services, and inventory turnover, enabling informed decision-making for business growth.

IV. How Salon POS Software Streamlines Your Business:

Efficient Transactions:

Salon POS software speeds up the checkout process, minimizing waiting times and enhancing the overall customer experience.

Accurate Inventory Management:

Real-time updates on inventory levels and sales data help salon owners make informed decisions, preventing overstock or shortages.

Integrated Systems:

The seamless integration of salon POS software with management tools ensures a synchronized and efficient operation, reducing manual errors and increasing productivity.

Conclusion:

Salon management software, coupled with a robust POS system, is undeniably the key to streamlining your salon business. From optimizing appointments to managing inventory and enhancing customer relationships, these tools empower salon owners to focus on what they do best – providing exceptional beauty services while ensuring a smooth and efficient operation. Embrace the technological revolution in the beauty industry and watch your salon thrive.