#reflection salon

[thereflectionsalon]

Luxury Pedicure Services – A Pampering Experience!

There’s nothing quite like a luxury pedicure service to make you feel pampered and special! If you’re looking for a relaxing experience that will leave your feet feeling soft and smooth, a luxury pedicure is a perfect choice.

What are luxury pedicure services?

A luxury pedicure service is a service that is provided to a customer that is considered to be a luxury. This means that the customer is paying a higher price for the service than they would for a service that is considered to be standard. A luxury pedicure service can be provided in a variety of ways, but it typically includes a pedicure that is performed using high-quality products and techniques.

The benefits of luxury pedicure services

There are many benefits to Luxury Pedicure Services in Bhubaneswar. For one, they can help improve the appearance of your feet. If you have neglected your feet for a long time, a luxury pedicure can help get them back into shape. Luxury pedicure services can also help improve circulation and stimulate the muscles in your feet. This can help keep your feet healthy and looking good.

 How to find the best luxury pedicure services

There are a few things to look for when trying to find the best luxury pedicure service. First, make sure that the salon has a good reputation and is highly rated. Also, take a look at the services that they offer and the prices. Finally, read reviews from past customers to get an idea of what the experience is like.

The different types of luxury pedicure services

There are a few different types of luxury Pedicure Services in Bhubaneswar that a person can choose from.

 One type is the hot stone pedicure. This service includes a foot soak, a scrub, and a massage with hot stones. The stones help to loosen up the muscles and soothe any tension.

Another popular type of luxury pedicure is the paraffin wax pedicure. This service includes a foot soak, a scrub, a massage, and a paraffin wax treatment. The wax is applied to the feet and then wrapped in warm towels. This treatment helps to soften the skin and prevents the accumulation of dry skin.

Finally, the third type of luxury pedicure is the milk and honey pedicure. This service includes a foot soak, a scrub, a massage, and a milk and honey treatment. The milk and honey help to nourish and hydrate the skin. They also help to reduce the appearance of wrinkles and age spots.

What to expect from a luxury pedicure service

  If you’re looking to treat yourself to a luxurious pedicure service, there are a few things you can expect. First, you can expect a relaxing and refreshing experience. The pedicure technician will start by soaking your feet in a warm bath, then will proceed to clean, trim, and file your nails. They will also massage your feet and legs and may apply a mask or scrub. Next, they will apply polish to your nails (or you can choose to go without polish). Finally, they will give you a pair of comfortable socks to take home with you.

How to prepare for a luxury pedicure service

The first step in preparing for a luxury pedicure service is to remove any nail polish from your toes. If you have any calluses or dry skin on your feet, you should also take care of that before your appointment. The best way to do this is to soak your feet in a warm bath for 10-15 minutes.

Once your feet are soft, you can begin to prepare for the pedicure itself. Start by clipping and filing your nails to the desired shape. If you have any dead skin on your feet, you can use a pumice stone to remove it.

Next, it’s time to give your feet a massage. Start by applying some lotion or oil to your feet and then use your hands or a special foot massager to massage them. You can also use a foot scrub to exfoliate your feet.

Once your feet are fully massaged, it’s time to give them a pedicure. Choose the colour of nail polish you want and paint your nails accordingly. You can also add some decorations, such as stickers or gems.

When you’re finished, make sure to apply a coat of polish to your toenails to protect them from chipping. Let the polish dry completely before putting on your shoes.

The aftermath of a luxury pedicure service

I was so excited when I scheduled my appointment for a luxury pedicure service. I had heard great things about the salon and the services they offer. I couldn’t wait to relax and have my feet pampered.

The salon was beautiful and the staff was friendly. I was given a robe to change into and led to a private room. I was given a foot bath and my feet were soaked in a warm, fragrant solution.

The technician then began to scrub my feet and toenails. She used a gentle but effective scrubbing motion that felt amazing. She then used a pumice stone to remove any callouses or dead skin.

She applied a luxurious moisturizing cream and massaged my feet and calves. The massage felt amazing and it was very relaxing.

The technician then finished my pedicure by painting my toenails with a beautiful shade of pink. I was so happy with the results. My feet looked and felt amazing.

The aftermath of my luxury pedicure was definitely worth the expense. I would highly recommend this service to anyone.

If you’re looking to treat yourself to a special pampering experience, be sure to check out Reflection Salon. You won’t regret it!

#skin care #pedicure #reflection salon #pedicure services #luxury pedicure #pedicure menicure

[blackbackedjackal]

As a Gévaudan Lycan, June’s design is supposed to give off an unknowable and melancholy energy.

Gévaudan Lycans are mimics, and their emotions alter their form, especially if they have little to no control of themselves when they shift.

The way June was changed into a lycan and her experience during first shift were extremely traumatic, and over time, her lycan form reflected her feelings of loss and self-loathing. She fronts as this charming and confident woman, while holding back her deeper emotions that eventually leached into the form that reflects her true self.

Fear, sadness, loss, and rage all mixed into this one entity she cannot control. Once a month, she's forced into facing all of those emotions, reliving that trauma again and again for nearly 30 years.

#so when people say they like her design #it makes me so so happy #I put lot of thought into it #as I really wanted to reflect a top very near and dear to my heart #which is the lack of access and resources for black women (especially queer black women) for mental health #there's this kind of cultural thing #where your hairstylist is also your therapist #and June’s design and lore is a reference to that culture #all these hardworking women in the community who will just be TALKING about their experiences at hair salons #it's cathartic but also like #it happens because of how little professional help is available and accessible for the community #anyway June is a big sad cryptid werewolf and needs to not be sad :[ #she can still be a big cryptid werewolf but she needs lycantherapy #june kingston #strawberry moon

[shiningdesignersreflections]

Angel: Fancy Milk Tea

Designer's Reflection: Fancy Milk Tea

Obtained: Casual Drinks workshop

Rarity: SR

Attribute: Pink/Sweet

Awakened Suit: Black Sugar Milk Tea

Story - transcripts from Designer's Reflection

Chapter 1 - Boba Obsession

Chapter 2 - Hardships and Inspiration

Chapter 3 - Popular Channel

Story - summarized

Angel loves boba tea. She even has a channel online dedicated to boba tea: the many flavors, the various toppings, the secret menu, how to pick a flavor for your mood...

Despite how much hard work she puts in, her channel remains slow.

Nevertheless, she still maintains enthusiasm with every new shop and special. And one of her favorite shops just opened a new branch. Angel heads straight there, eagerly waiting in line behind a man who has a long, long, long list of drinks to order.

Finally, she has her own boba, as well as two more for Nikki and Momo. She goes to their nail salon and gives them their favorite teas. As the friends chat and do their nails, Angel brings up her struggle with the channel. She also mentions that she tried fashion designing, but nothing stood out to her as good.

Nikki suggests combining bubble tea with designing. After their meet-up, Angel gets a bolt of inspiration: not only add boba elements to her clothes, but model them on camera when she does her blogs.

Sure enough, within a couple weeks, her channel hits 10,000 fans. All of them adore her style, and some want to buy copies of her designs. All is going well for Angel... until she ends up in line behind a man who has a long, long, long list of drinks to order. Again.

Connections

-Angel continues to come to Nikki's nail salon. Even if you hire Chi Xiaoyu or Helz to take over business for a day, you can check your customers list, and you will always see Angel at least twice throughout the week.

-Momo loves the social media spotlight as you can tell, and he got his big break in Pumpkin Witch when he displayed his very first design online.

Fun Facts

-Another name for bubble tea is "boba tea" because of two things: the tapioca balls look like colorful bubbles in the tea, and also because the Chinese word for tapioca balls sounds like "boba." You can learn more about this Taiwanese drink here.

-While Angel is a regular customer at Nikki's salon, no nail art was released alongside this suit.

-One of Angel's fans commented that she had "tres-cool designs." Tres is French for "very" and it's pronounced "tray" or "treh." Some people think it's trendy to drop French words in their comments or dialogue.

-I personally like how a design based after a sugary-sweet drink gets the Sweet attribute. It's a play-on-words.

#angel #shining nikki #designer's reflection #fancy milk tea #pink attribute #sweet #boba tea #bubble tea #milk tea #blog #live stream #art #artist's block #nail salon #secret menu #workshop #casual drinks #sr designer #apple federation

[devdas5z]

#black leather gloves #leather gloves #gloves #leather dress #black leather dress #car #reflection #race queen #tokyo auto salon #asian #asian beauty #fashion

[tarblackksoull]

'Cause all the music you loved at sixteen, you'll grow out of And all the times they will change, it'll all come around I don't know Maybe I'm just stoned at the nail salon, again

...

Spend all the evenings you can with the people who raised you 'Cause all the times they will change, it'll all come around I don't know Maybe I'm just stoned at the nail salon

----

There is something so calming about sinking into the average days of living an okay life, of celebrating the day we ran around town and accepting you will always love them, but that life is so much more simple than back then. That we are not the same as we were at sixteen and that’s a good thing. Now all that is left is a well behaved dog and getting your nails done. But in realizing how far we have come, we realize how grateful we are for these little moments. It might not always be perfect, but let’s celebrate slowing down and being okay, just for this snippet of time. 

#stoned at the nail salon #lorde #spotify #thoughts #reflect #music #sixteen #growing up #things are always changing

[cherumie]

every time I cut my hair I go ever so slightly shorter than I wanted

#but my hair grows fast so its not a big deal #i could go to a barber i totally could #but good god i hate getting my hair cut by other people #having to avoid my own reflection thats right in front of me for an hour #trying to skirt past the barbers polite questions without looking like an asshole #its just scary man i hate it #not worth #id rather have a slightly shit homemade haircut than go to a salon

[aroundmeblog]

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Book a massage therapy on @aroundmeblog Directory. 💆🏻‍♀️ 💆🏻‍♀️ 💆🏻‍♀️ Visit for More Details - https://www.aroundme.co.in/

List your Business at Aroundme At No Cost - https://business.aroundme.co.in/account/register 🌿 🌿 🌿

#bookmassage #massageappointment #onlinebooking #painreleif #massageeffects #bodypositivity #reflection #backpainrelief #mindbodysoul #calmnessofmind #relaxlife #MassageMagic #massagetherapy #spatherapist #StressFreeZone #bodymassage #bodymassagetherapy #onlinebookingavailable #vasaivirar #nalasopara #mirabhayandar #musclerelaxation #aroundme #businesslisting #spa #onlinebusiness #salon #localseo #spa near me #business

[mundaily]

January 12, 2024 | 012/365

#365 #365photo #365photoproject #365photochallenge #365project #365challenge #portland #oregon #2024 #dailyphoto #mirror #reflect #hair salon #windows

[whatsheread]

Sunday Reflections - 26 March 2023

Reading:  The Blood Gift by N. E. Davenport Listening:  The Midnight Library by Matt Haig Watching:  Jim has been gone this week, so I had to wait to watch some of our shows. I did finish Daisy Jones and the Six and Shadow and Bone. The first I loved, but the latter was not as its first season. I am not a fan of them putting four books into one season, and the acting by one main character is…

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#2023 #Sunday Reflections #The Sunday Salon #Weekly Recap

[thereflectionsalon]

Best Dermatologists In Bhubaneswar

Get rid of all skin problems. Book an appointment with The Best Dermatologists in Bhubaneswar and get the beautiful radiant skin you always wanted. Visit our site now for more details https://thereflectionsalon.com/

#Beauty Salons in Bhubaneswar #Best Salons in BBSR #best hair salon in bhubaneswar #salon bhubaneswar #best salon in bhubaneswar #reflection salon #hair loss treatment in bhubaneswar #hair care treatment centres in bhubaneswar #pedicure services in bhubaneswar #manicure and pedicure in bhubaneswar #full body waxing near me #best bridal makeup in bhubaneswar #body polishing in bhubaneswar #best bridal makeup salon in bhubaneswar #salon #natulique salon inner west #salon bbsr #bbsr salon

[makingqueerhistory]

Wash Day Diaries

Jamila Rowser, Robyn Smith

Wash Day Diaries tells the story of four best friends--Kim, Tanisha, Davene, and Cookie--through five connected short story comics that follow these young women through the ups and downs of their daily lives in the Bronx. The book takes its title from the wash day experience shared by Black women everywhere of setting aside all plans and responsibilities for a full day of washing, conditioning, and nourishing their hair. Each short story uses hair routines as a window into these four characters' everyday lives and how they care for each other. Jamila Rowser and Robyn Smith originally kickstarted their critically acclaimed, award-winning slice of life mini comic, Wash Day, inspired by Rowser's own wash day ritual and their shared desire to see more comics featuring the daily lived experiences of young Black women. Wash Day Diaries includes an updated, full color version of this original comic--which follows Kim, a 26-year-old woman living in the Bronx--as the book's first chapter and expands into a graphic novel with short stories about these vibrant and relatable new characters. In expanding the story of Kim and her friends, the authors pay tribute to Black sisterhood through portraits of shared, yet deeply personal experiences of Black hair care. From self-care to spilling the tea at an hours-long salon appointment to healing family rifts, the stories are brought to life through beautifully drawn characters and different color palettes reflecting the mood in each story. At times touching, quiet, triumphant, and laugh out loud funny, the stories of Wash Day Diaries pay a loving tribute to Black joy and the resilience of Black women.

(Affiliate link above)

#queer history #queer #lgbt #queer books #lgbt books

[sinsandsuccubus]

Good Morning - Jack Harlow

Context: Jack comes home to wake you up with a good morning.

Genre: smut

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairings: Jack Harlow X Gf!Reader

Warnings: 18+ ! Sexual activity.

a/n: I sat at the salon while writing this. I hope that doesn’t say anything about my character.

-

Masterlist ☽☾

Streaks of moonlight reflected into the room, illuminating your bare skin on the satin sheets beneath you. You laid on your side, your legs barely covered by the blanket.

Jack thought you were beautiful like this.

Yet, his hunger was high.

And that’s why he slowly slipped into the bed, shifting your body so that you rested on your back. He carefully slid your body to the end of the bed, removing the covers to reveal your glistening pussy, a sigh escaping your lips.

“Fuck.” He muttered, separating your lips with his clean and polished fingers before moving that same hand to his dick, palming at the flesh. With that he lapped at your folds, sighing at the taste of you.

Sighs combined with moans left your lips, your thighs slightly shaking. You opened your eyes to see your boyfriend staring back at you, humming into your pussy. The sound wave sent a shock to your core, arching your back to push into the mattress.

“Hey, baby. Sorry I woke you, I couldn’t help myself.” Jack spoke, toying with your folds with the other hand.

“When-“ You paused to moan.

“When did you get home?”

“A half an hour ago. I wanted to take a shower and get cleaned up before getting into bed with you. But when I came into the bedroom, you looked so irresistible. I couldn’t help myself, baby.” He continued to lap at your folds, moving to suck your clit. You arched your back once again, turning your head to look at the clock.

5 am.

You definitely weren’t going to work in the morning, you were due to wake up in an hour.

Which you were certain, Jack would not be done by then.

It was almost as if he read your mind, tapping on your thighs to get your attention.

“I talked to your boss last night. You have the rest of the week off. I’m gonna need those few days to catch up on lost time.” He smiled at you once more before diving back in.

Your legs began to shake, reflecting how close you were to coming undone.

“Jack.” You moaned, grabbing his hair.

“Go ahead, baby. Cum. I want it.” And with that, you let go, your whole body shaking in satisfaction. Jack grunted, continuously lapping at your juices until you pulled away, body continuously shaking.

“I’m not done with you, mamas.” He stood up and took off his shirt, sliding off his boxers swiftly.

“I don’t think you’ve noticed, but I’ve been palming myself ever since I started, and rutting up against the bed like a fucking animal. I need you baby. Like, right now.”

“Take me.” You spoke softly, mentally preparing yourself for the rollercoaster of sensations.

That was all he needed, as he thrust into you, sighing in satisfaction.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good.” You pressed a hand to his abdomen, looking into his eyes.

“Hold on baby. I think you’ve grown since you left.” You chuckled, to which Jack joined you, taking the time to lazily rub at your clit.

“I’ve only been gone two weeks Y/N.” You raised an eyebrow at his comment, to which he laughed once more, your eyes rolling in annoyance.

“Two weeks is a long time Jack. I missed you.”

“I missed you too baby.” He moved up to kiss your lips, drawing you in for a long and loving one, your lips following him as he pulled away.

“Can I move now, please?” Jack asked eagerly, slowly moving his hips. You let out a laugh before nodding your head, Jack immediately pulling back before slamming back into you. You both moaned loudly, hands moving to grip the sheets before you.

“Damn baby, shit. Fuck.” You moaned out, your body shaking slightly. You tried to move away from him, yet he pulled you closer, smacking the inside of your leg.

“Don’t run from me Y/N, don’t run from this dick. Take it.” He grunted out, picking up the pace. Your moved your hands to grip on his bicep, feeling yourself grow close.

“Jack…”

“I know baby.” And with that, he flipped you over onto your knees, your chest pressing flat into the mattress. He continued his rough pace, your body becoming undone before you knew it. You yelped out in satisfaction, Jack continuing his assault on your pussy.

“Jack, I-“

“You can do it. Give me one more, I know you can.” He pulled your head back to get you to look at him, nodding your head with tears in your eyes. He kissed your cheek, pushing your chest back into the mattress. He began to rub at your clit with pressure, your legs beginning to shake.

“Cum for me baby. I need you to cum.” Jack grunted in your ear, laying kisses on your neck before you followed his command, whining.

“FUCK.” Jack grunted, his warmth filling you. He collapsed on top of you, sighing into your skin.

“You okay baby?” He asked, moving off of you, rolling you over on your back. He did a quick glance, checking to make sure you were okay. You smiled at him, to which he laughed, moving to pepper your face with kisses.

“I’m okay, baby. That felt so good.” You admitted, to which he hummed back, kissing down your body.

“Good. Because I got a couple more rounds left in me.”

-

sorry for any typos, I was multitasking when I read this over.

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow blurb #Jack Harlow smut #jack harlow fan fic #jack harlow fic

[chenfleur]

lowkey

summary. jeonghan's supposed to be on stage in twenty minutes, and he's nowhere to be found.

pairing. idol!jeonghan x makeup artist!y/n ft vernon

genre. fluff, secret relationship

word count. 1.7k

released. 03.26.2023

author's note. feedback is appreciated! this is so funny to me because im pretty sure i can count the number of interactions vernon and jeonghan have had on one hand

masterlist

“Where’s Jeonghan?”

There’s an urgent lilt in the stage director’s voice as it booms around the crowded, high-tension salon space. 

You’d typically roll your eyes. God forbid Yoon Jeonghan stays still for just a second. 

As the notice of his going missing sinks in, the atmosphere becomes frantic. The sound of rustling grows loud and overbearing—people begin to fly around the messy space, trying to organize and give last-minute touches to the rest of the group; a few managers had already walked out the door without a second thought, going to go search.

“That idiot,” you murmur, eyebrows pinched together. 

Jeonghan has always had the tendency to wander. It’s just a product of restlessness, and it's always been a fairly harmless habit, but this space isn’t one that’s familiar like a music show; it's the first stop on the world tour—where the venue is completely foreign to both the members and the staff—and if he doesn’t show up in the next ten or so minutes, it would not end prettily.

Vernon, whose base makeup you were touching up, eyes you curiously. Your movements had faltered considerably upon the director’s shout, going from precise, aggressive beats against his face to uncharacteristically soft, unsynchronized taps.

He watches your unsettled expression with slightly squinted eyes—but he doesn’t say anything, simply averting his gaze to his reflection.

The soft, worried mutters of the other members paired with the worked-up exclamations from the different staff fill your ears until it grows unbearable. You can't take it anymore.

You find yourself only giving Vernon a few more quick taps before muttering a faint “you’re all set”, tossing the beauty sponge haphazardly onto the cluttered countertop. You hear a thoughtful “thank you” come from him before you bolt across the room and out the door.

The lingering uncertainty of Jeonghan's whereabouts must be messing with your senses, because the grey halls feel even more obscure than before—they're seemingly never-ending as you twist and turn around the venue, the only times you stop being to peek down corridors for the silhouette of a person.

Your legs begin to ache from how fast you’re walking, but that pain fades as you finally catch sight of a figure in one of the waiting areas, leaning against the wall next to a vending machine.

“Jeonghan-ssi!” you call out immediately, striding towards him.

The man’s head looks up from his phone screen, warily looking around. Realizing it was you that was coming towards him, he pockets his phone before peeling himself off the wall and going to meet you halfway.

You stop a few steps away from him, eyes scanning over his build as if to check for any accidents. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but everyone is looking for you, you have to be on stage really soon-”

“Y/N,” Jeonghan murmurs, cutting you off. “Y/N, it’s just us. Stop talking like that, you sound so cold.”

Your eyebrows furrow, but when you realize what he was referring to, you grow quiet.

When the two of you got together, you made it clear that you wanted to remain professional. Jeonghan is your coworker, and so, you treat him as such–you keep speaking to him with formalities and interact with him only when necessary, trying your hardest to not drop any sort of indication that you have a more intimate relationship with him.

Even if other people knew about your relationship, you still think you’d like to keep your work and personal life wholly separate. You think it's just more simple that way, and you don’t want to become someone who seems unreliable.

It strikes you that you had been speaking to him formally, and even after realizing it, you don’t know why you still find yourself unable to slip into a more casual persona.

Maybe it’s because he was in his stage outfit, all made up and styled to perfection—or maybe it’s because the setting of a waiting room is one you associate so heavily with work—either way, you find yourself keeping a small distance from him, hands at your sides with the same indifferent, borderline stern expression on your face.

“Come back to the salon, please,” you say sharply before turning away.

Jeonghan winces. He encircles his fingers around your wrist to stop you from walking away any further, the gentleness of his touch contrasting the edge of your tone.

“You're so mean…”

His grip on your wrist makes you turn back around, looking at him with curiosity. Your eyes widen at the sight of an unfamiliar expression painted on Jeonghan’s face—one that’s slightly forlorn.

“Call me Han, or something. Please. I need you to ground me,” he whispers.

He’s laughing—his voice still has the teasing charm that’s always present whenever he speaks—but you can’t help but notice the small amounts of desperation that seep through.

Taking a few steps forward, you’re now much closer to him than before. You remove his fingers from around your wrist, and after a little hesitation, you slowly interlock your fingers together.

Immediately, Jeonghan squeezes your hand tightly, the tension leaving his body as soon as he feels the smoothness of your touch. He brings your interlocked hands up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

You freeze. The idea of PDA in a work setting makes you uneasy—but, you put that aside to focus solely on Jeonghan, because something was clearly bothering him.

“What’s wrong, Han?” you ask, much softer than before.

Jeonghan’s head hangs down as he chuckles meekly. “Nothing. It’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not. Stop downplaying yourself. What’s wrong?”

“I just- I’m nervous, baby.”

The pet name slips out naturally, but you barely register it. “It’s been a really long time since we’ve been on tour, and we’ve never been to this city before… I don’t know if anyone will like my performance? Like-”

“Shhh, Han,” you shush, tentatively stroking your thumb on the top of his hand. 

“It’s fine to be nervous. I’d be surprised if any of you weren’t nervous,” you say jokingly, rolling your eyes. You don’t notice, but Jeonghan's gazing at you with fondness, his lips threatening to quirk up.

“But what’s not fine is for you to think that no one will like your performance. You’re such an incredible performer, Jeonghan," you say, eyes shining. "Maybe even my favourite performer, but you can’t tell Mingyu I said that.”

Jeonghan scoffs dramatically, ripping his hand out of yours and crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Maybe? You’re breaking my heart, Y/N,” he chides.

A melodic laugh bubbles from you, and Jeonghan tries his absolute hardest to not break into a massive smile.

Jeonghan doesn't mind the distant, formal dynamic the two of you have during work. He, too, has an image to maintain and wants to be professional—though he won’t deny that he wishes he could see you like this more often: eyes crinkling in delight as you laugh at his antics. It suits you better than the serious expression you wear when you do his makeup, he thinks.

Jeonghan doesn’t try to stop you when you reach for his hand, taking it in yours again.

“But seriously, you’re great. Listen, they’re all there for you,” you say, looking up at nothing in particular as you listen to the muffled roars of fans singing along to the music videos that play before the concert starts.

Your sincerity is too much for his poor heart, and Jeonghan finds himself grinning widely.

“I suppose they are,” he mutters, making you laugh.

A silence falls over the two of you, before it’s broken by Jeonghan.

“Thank you,” he whispers genuinely. "For always supporting me."

You don’t say anything in return, only giving his hand one final squeeze before detaching yourself from him and beginning to walk away.

Though, you only make it a few steps before you’re frozen in your place. You're looking at something that makes your eyes widen and the wires in your brain snap.

Leaning against the threshold between the waiting area and the hall, arms crossed and a the ghost of a smile on his face, is Vernon. 

Jeonghan comes up behind you and, though he isn’t nearly as stunned as you, blinks in confusion at the sight of his member standing there. 

“Oh, hey man. What are you doing here?” he asks nonchalantly.

The younger shrugs. “You’ve caused quite the riot, hyung. Everyone’s looking for you."

Vernon pushes himself off the doorframe before directing his gaze to you. “So this is why you were so worried about him,” he wonders aloud, an amused glint in his eyes.

Words refuse to come from your lips as your jaw hangs open. All you feel is Jeonghan putting his annoying yet warm hand on your waist, giving it a small, excited squeeze.

“Worried about me, hm?” your boyfriend teases. You don’t even have it in you to shoot back, only turning your head away from him to hide your quickly burning face.

“How long?” Vernon suddenly muses.

“About half a year. You think she hates me yet?” Jeonghan jokes, though his eyes are half-lidded as he affectionately looks down at you.

"Seems like it," Vernon responds, chuckling. "Hey- is this why you sometimes don’t come back to the dorms?”

The younger's eyebrows shoot up as the realization dawns on him, breaking the signature, neutral expression he always wears. He's impressed. "God, we've just been thinking you, like, get drunk and blackout on the road or something."

Jeonghan throws his head back, the sound of his loud laughs ringing through the air. “Yeah. But don’t tell anyone- no one else knows.” 

Vernon whistles lowly, before bringing his hand up to mime sealing his lips and throwing away the key.

Your shock has somewhat subsided, and when you suddenly remember why you were in this situation in the first place, you gasp. “Oh my god, you guys have to go. Now.”

Even as you practically throw him off of you, the smile seemingly can’t be wiped off your boyfriend’s face.

Jeonghan can’t stop thinking about your shining eyes and the shade of red that tinted your cheeks, even as he walks away.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #svt scenarios #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan oneshot #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan scenarios #seventeen #svt #yoon jeonghan #seventeen jeonghan #seventeen drabbles #seventeen imagines #yoon jeonghan x reader #svt imagines

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

thinking about washing spencer reid’s hair

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

^ also clearing out drafts

#spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds #criminal minds spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you

[littlexdeaths]

blondes do have more fun - e.m.

y2k eddie munson x girly reader

warnings: robin and reader get so drunk, reader is too clumsy for her own good

opposites attract masterlist

a/n: another edit and repost of this y2k series. this was the second blurb i ever wrote for them and it was heavily inspired by that one scene in 10 things i hate about you, iykyk. enjoy babes 💕

word count: 1.2k

It was an impulse decision.

So of course he would be surprised.

If you were being honest, you were a little scared to see Eddie’s reaction. Which was why you asked Nancy to tag along with you to the hair salon. Knowing she would give you her honest opinion either way.

It took over two hours to get your locks to the bleach blonde perfection you desired. Keeping your eyes off of the mirror during the entire process due to your nerves. So when the stylist finally spun your chair around, you were genuinely shocked as you fell in love upon meeting your reflection.

You had never done much with your hair over the years, besides the occasional haircut. But you were itching to try out something new. Finding yourself inspired by your latest obsession, Legally Blonde.

You had dragged Eddie to see it with you in theaters more times than you cared to admit— but he never once complained.

He had actually enjoyed it, even making a comment or two about how he thought Reese Witherspoon was pretty. Which got the wheels in your head turning, leading you into a salon chair with bleach covering your head.

“It looks amazing, hun,” Nancy gushed as you left the salon, arms linked together as you ventured deeper into the Starcourt Mall.

There was a new air of confidence about you as you walked, sipping on Orange Julius’ smoothies. You all but dragged her into Wet Seal to help you find the perfect outfit for later. Steve was hosting yet another rager, which had become a recurring weekend event amongst your friend group.

After many trips to the fitting room (and an impromptu fashion show), you eventually walked out of the mall with a mini black dress and matching pair of platform sandals.

You decided to keep this new look under wraps for the rest of the day, waiting until Steve’s party to reveal it to everyone.

As you walked into the male’s home you kept your head high, pushing through the crowd of tipsy college kids to find your friends. Eddie was going to meet you here after band practice had wrapped up. But you couldn’t help but feel your nerves stirring in your stomach.

What if he hated it?

Logically you knew it didn’t matter, it was your hair after all. But you still wanted him to like it nonetheless.

You spotted Robin and Steve in the living room, bounding over to them with a smile. They were clearly in the middle of a squabble of some sort, but Robin’s face lights up once she sees you.

It was quite obvious she was already wasted, her cheeks thoroughly flushed as she stumbled towards you. Steve’s eyes widen in surprise, attempting to reign her back in but she easily shrugs him off.

“Oh my god, Nance told me it looked good. But it’s way better than I could’ve imagined!” She squealed, pulling you into a hug as you just laughed.

She leans closer to your ear, hanging onto your arm for support, “Dude… Eddie is gonna lose it. It’s giving Pam Anderson and Elle Woods— you look hot.”

You felt your cheeks warm from her words, as Steve is finally able to tug her off of you with an annoyed expression. You hadn’t even thought about that, taking a glance down at your attire. It was very reminiscent of an outfit you’d seen Ms. Anderson sporting on the cover of one of those trashy tabloid magazines recently.

Robin was right, per usual but it only makes you more anxious for your boyfriend to arrive.

You make your way over to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink, nearly chugging it in an attempt to make your nerves disappear. But one drink quickly turns into four and having not eaten much before you arrived— you became very drunk, very fast.

So drunk that you didn’t even notice when Eddie finally did arrive, after a very concerned phone call from Steve.

The brunette was already having to babysit Robin, but now he was struggling to keep you both in check. Chasing the two of you around his house, your chorus of giggles barely being heard above the bubbly pop music. Eddie arrives soon after that phone call, searching frantically through the crowd of people to find you.

However it didn’t take him very long to do so.

A crowd had begun to form in Steve’s dining room, as you pulled Robin up onto his table with you. Both of you dancing drunkenly on the top of it, letting the heavy bass pump through you. The both of you ignore the whistles and shouts from the crowd, raising your hands above your head.

Eddie had finally pushed his way to the front of the crowd, watching in amusement as you got a little too into the gyration of your hips. Not a care in the world as you tossed your head back. Seemingly forgetting about the large chandelier that hung behind you. That amusement turns to slight horror as the back of your head smacks right against the light fixture.

A combination of the impact and the alcohol has you feeling lightheaded, your knees start to wobble. Robin gasps in shock, attempting to grab on to your wrist but fails miserably as you lose your balance. Letting you fall back into the crowd and right into a pair of strong arms.

Your vision is blurred and your head starts to spin as the person quickly carries you out of the room, cradling you against their chest. In your inebriated and dizzy state you don’t realize it’s the metalhead you’ve been waiting to see all night.

You squirm in his arms, attempting to get him to put you down, “Excuse me— I have a boyfriend.” You huff, pushing against their denim clad shoulder, “Put me down!”

The pout adorning your lips causes him to chuckle, immediately recognizing the sound. You blink your lashes rapidly as your boyfriend’s face finally comes into focus. That pout is quickly replaced with a toothy grin, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to kiss him.

Eddie kisses you back gently, kicking the door shut behind him. He sits you both down on the bed, now in the comfort of Steve’s guest room. You snuggle up into his chest immediately, playing with his dark curls.

“Glad you’ve finally come back down to earth, love,” he hums, "Is your head feeling okay?”

You sigh happily, nodding as Eddie begins to feel the back of your head. Carefully inspecting it to make sure you haven’t done any significant damage. You wince as he finds a tender spot, the male pressing a light kiss to it.

“So you dye your hair and go completely off the rails,” he sighs, shaking his head. “I’m just glad I got here when I did.”

His concerned tone makes you giggle nonetheless, leaning up to press a sloppy kiss against his jaw. The room had finally stopped spinning, and you felt ready to get back to the party.

“You know what they say, Eds, blondes have more fun.”

Eddie just rolls his eyes at you fondly, ruffling your freshly dyed locks.

“Uh huh, sure they do, sweetheart.”

#the freak writes 🫧 #my series: opposites attract 🫧 #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #y2k!eddie munson x girly reader #y2k!eddie munson #early 2000s!eddie munson

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Denim on Denim

A Seams x Grays crossover

Summary: Joel tries to get a haircut - but it turns out he can’t do anything in the QZ without getting into a fistfight, and you’re lucky enough to be in the audience.

Warnings: Mildly spicy thoughts, two sexy men fighting, language, reader was a hairdresser prior to the outbreak and has a nickname related to her job, no use of Y/N, no physical descriptions of reader, very lightly edited.

This oneshot can be read independently of the two series, but for the full experience, I recommend reading at least Grays. This is a post-outbreak AU of Grays, and is set before Seams Joel leaves the QZ. Part of the Shiv's salon drabbles.

Word count: 2.7k

Notes: A whole year after my random thoughts about how Joel's hair looks that good in an apocalypse and a random notif on this post that reminded of it, we finally get Joel to Shiv's salon... or do we? 🤷🏻‍♀️ I had a blast writing this oneshot - it's a bit silly, a bit spicy, I hope you enjoy it ❤️

‘Goddamnit.’

Joel swipes viciously at the curl hanging over eyes, like a boxer at a punchbag. Try as he might to slick it back, every time his shovel hits the dirt, the hair uncoils, bouncing obnoxiously in his field of vision.

He needs a fucking haircut. Tess usually does it for him every month or so, but she’s been in a mood - snapping at him, keeping him at arm’s length, she hasn’t even been to his apartment for two whole weeks.

This time of the year is hard for her. He knows all too well that he’s the same every September. They’re in each of their own time loops, a cage within the trappings of the QZ.

‘You look like you need a trim, bro.’

Joel barely glances up. He knows the guy, they share a surname after all. People call him Ben, or Benny, and even an old man like him knows he’s a good-looking son of a bitch.

They work the same shifts sometimes, and he knows Tess has crossed paths with him at the illegal fight nights. Joel has also seen him a few times at the bar, where he’s usually surrounded by even more good-looking motherfuckers.

Joel knows he’s a damn flirt too. He always has pretty words for Tess when he sees her. He’s harmless though, and he supposes that she deserves sweet nothings from at least one Miller since he’s no good at them.

Realising he hasn’t responded, Joel grunts noncommittally, self-consciousness prickling the back of his neck.

‘I know someone, she was a professional hairdresser before all this.’

Joel ignores him and keeps shovelling.

‘If you tell her you know me, she’ll give you a good rate.’

More shovelling.

‘Alright man, my shift’s up. See you ‘round.’

Five steps, and Joel sighs, digging the shovel into the dirt.

‘Wait.’

Joel stands on the doorway, and stares.

There’s an actual backwash in the corner of the dingy living room - well, living space. There are no doors in the tenement apartments.

‘You waiting for it to say hello back, or what?’

His eyes snap to yours, a scowl drawing his brows together.

Not that you look at all intimidated, one eyebrow arched high and an amused smile sitting lopsided on your lips, which he will admit throws him just a bit. He’s not used to having to work for it.

Giving you a tight nod, he takes two steps into the apartment. He recognises the layout, a mirror of his own, which is a few blocks away.

Closing the door with a flourish behind him, you ask brightly, ‘You’re here for a haircut?’

He’s about to answer when something winks at him, and he looks up, momentarily blinded by the reflection of afternoon light in the cracked mirror that hangs over a battered styling station.

Your apartment has windows that don’t look directly onto the next building, and sun floods the space. Even light is a real rarity in the shithole of a QZ, where everything indoors is dingy. He idly wonders if you had to bribe someone -

Distracted, he catches the sliver of a shadow moving from the corner of his eye a split second later than he would if he was on high alert. On reflex, his fingers find the hilt of his knife and he whips it out in a wide arc, swinging to his left where gunmetal catches the afternoon light.

‘Drop it!’ he barks, the same moment as the other man growls, ‘The fuck are you doing in my home with a knife?’

To Joel’s bewilderment, you chuckle somewhere to his right, amused. ‘C’mon guys. Dramatic, much?’

‘He snuck up on me,’ Joel growls defensively.

‘Frankie, put your gun away, dude’s just here for a haircut - I’m assuming anyway, he never did answer my question.’

‘Yes, I’m here for a haircut,’ he snaps, resheathing his knife. ‘Fuck would I be doin’ here if not?’

‘Fuck should I know, dipshit?’ retorts Frankie, tucking his gun in the back of his jeans. ‘You always bring a knife to your haircuts?’

‘D’ya always threaten to shoot paying customers?’

‘No, we definitely do not.’ You step into the space between the two men in case they get snippy with each other again. ‘Who sent you?’

Your customer crosses his arms, and you can’t help noticing the fabric of his shirt stretching across those broad shoulders. ‘Blondie.’

‘Blondie?’ you frown, confused. ‘Oh wait, you mean Ben? I thought I recognised you. I’ve seen you at one of his fights, with your wife? What’s her name now -’

‘Tess,’ he replies, then promptly looks like he wishes he’d stopped himself before he answered. ‘She’s not my -’ he trails off, and it’s clear he doesn’t like how you’re reading him at the moment, grumbling, ‘None of your damn business.’

‘Hey, you watch your mouth around my lady, old man,’ warns Frankie, ratcheting up the tension again.

Squaring his shoulders, the man seems to grow two inches. ‘Or what?’

Suddenly aware of being caught in the crossfire between your protective husband on one side, and this gruff, silvered stranger on the other, heat bubbles unbidden under your skin, the unexpected reaction from your body catching you off guard.

Biting your lower lip, you clear your throat, and somehow you sound steadier than you feel when you dispense the orders. 

‘Ok, this is enough. Frankie, sit down over there,’ you say, pointing him in the direction of the couch on the other side of the room. ‘And you - since you’re Benny’s friend, two ration cards.’

‘’M not his friend,’ he almost spits out that last word, as if it tastes weird.

You give him a pointed look. ‘Three ration cards, then.’

He huffs, and hands you two from his back pocket. ‘Fine, I’m Benny’s friend.’

You grin. ‘If you’re besties, it’s one.’

‘Don’t push it.’

You back off with a chuckle. ‘Fine, not besties. Maybe next time. Now sit.’

Joel does as he’s told, awkwardly, in the styling chair, a relic from the pre-outbreak days. It creaks dangerously under his weight, and it wobbles, slightly off-kilter. The cracked leather is warm from the sun, which seeps into his skin, and he finds himself wondering when was the last time he went to a hair salon.

Sarah used to love cutting his hair. She always made an afternoon out of it on one of his rare days not working overtime, putting the music on, setting up her Barbie mirror on the dining room table, and having him pick out a hairstyle from a magazine (it never looked anywhere near like the photos). She’d even put a disposable raincoat over him like a hairdresser’s cape. She really wasn’t any good, there’s a reason why Tommy didn’t let her anywhere near his curls, but he always wore her handiwork with pride -

So lost in his thoughts, he reacts purely on instinct when, for the first time in decades, fingers other than his own find his hair.

Swivelling around, he’s out of the chair in a split second, fingers wrapped tight around your wrists. You yelp as he pushes you back against the wall, which he sees from the shape of your lips but doesn’t hear over the blood pounding in his ears.

Joel barely holds you there for a second before he’s yanked backwards by a hand on the back of his collar, and he stumbles, crashing into the adjacent wall. He barely misses the fist heading towards his face, ducking just in time to save himself what would undoubtedly have been a broken nose.

He barrels into the younger man with his shoulder, expecting him to tumble back, and is surprised when he doesn’t budge. Joel’s aware he’s got a few years on him, but he more than holds his own against punks that age on the daily. This guy clearly has a background in combat, and it’s taking Joel everything to stay on his feet.

In the meantime, you’re still plastered against the wall, dazed by your customer’s reaction. Heck, you haven’t even gotten his name yet before he literally jumped you. He’s a skittish one, that’s for sure. 

You smile at the memory of Frankie’s first time with you at the salon - he’d give this guy a good run for his money. Lucky for him, you’ve always been good at wrangling the nervous ones.

Speaking of, the two men are now literally wrestling in front of you. If you had to venture a guess by the grays in the hair, you reckon your customer is pushing fifty. He’s built like a fucking tank though, and he’s giving everything he’s got.

So you decide to watch for a little while. Boys will be boys, best leave them to let off some steam. Leaning against the wall, you get comfortable, and you think wistfully to yourself that Ashton would have loved this view.

You’re not sure how you missed that they’re both wearing denim on denim, and you would struggle to pick out which is your husband if not for the hat on his head. Yes, the damn cap survived the apocalypse with him.

They are remarkably similar in build, though your customer seems to stand just a couple of inches taller. His biceps flex and bulge through the shirt sleeves as he scuffles with Frankie, teeth bared; meanwhile, your husband plants his feet, jeans stretched tight over his adorable little ass, trying to hold the man back long enough to throw a punch.

If the room was warm when they were trading barbs, it’s positively sweltering right now.

All you can see are broad shoulders and fabric bursting at the seams, grappling fingers and clenched fists. Back muscles rippling through denim, teasing slivers of skin and soft bellies when shirttails ride up and jeans fall low. The cheerful afternoon sun kisses their skin golden, casting long shadows across the creaking wooden floor.

And they’re not quiet. Throaty grunts as they jostle, panted breath peppered with cusses, fuck’s and sons of bitches as they wrestle for control.

Suddenly, you’re the one who’s out of breath despite not moving a muscle.

As much as you would’ve loved to stand and watch, you can tell both men are starting to get winded. You don’t exactly want the show to end, entertainment is hard to come by in the QZ, let alone of such a visually stimulating variety, in your own living room. But you think you hear the older man wheeze, their shirts are now stained with sweat, and the frantic energy they started with turns heavy with lethargy.

With a rueful sigh, you speak up, ‘Frankie, come on, that’s enough now.’

He growls, ‘No fucking way. He tried to hurt you!’

‘He barely touched me. It was just his PTSD acting out.’

‘I don’t have PTSD,’ the man protests, shooting you a glare before dodging an elbow.

‘There’s no shame in having PTSD,’ you admonish him. ‘Or in getting help.’

‘Why don’t you give me a hand then?’ he scoffs, tipping his head at Frankie.

‘Yeah, looks like you can use it,’ your husband taunts him.

‘Sure you can’t, asshole? Can’t even take down an old man on your own?’

‘I hope you're hungry, 'cause you're gonna eat your words, asshole -’

Hands on hips, you roll your eyes at the exceedingly average trash talk. ‘You know what? I tried asking nicely - I’m going in.’

It’s a tight squeeze, but somehow, you find a space between the elbows and shoulders and knees, and you wedge yourself in. It’s hot and humid between the two men, who are still trying to get at each other, despite the fact that you now have one hand on each of their chests, trying to pry them apart. Trapped between the two solid walls of chest, their raw strength vibrates through you, through harsh panting breath, the musk of sweat and man, and denim rubs rough on your bare skin where you’re pressed up against them.

It’s not hard to imagine being in this position in an entirely different situation, with the axis tilted, on a softer surface. Heat prickles all over you like needles, and unbeknownst to you, your thighs press together, and your panties start to feel sticky -

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ asks Frankie, incredulous as he looms over you, still grabbing onto the other guy’s shirt.

You bat your eyelashes at him, then crane your neck over your shoulder to wink at the other man. A little spiral of a curl dangles over his eyes as he glares at you, puffs of warm air hitting the shell of your ear. 

Knowing that your best chance of breaking off this nonsense is to wildly offend both men, you purr, ‘Making a delicious sandwich ‘cause I’m famished -’

Frankie flushes bright red instantly, and he roars, ‘Get your filthy hands off my wife, son of a bitch!’

Not that his hands are anywhere near you (a tragedy), nonetheless, the man jumps five feet back, as if you burned him. He may deny Tess being his wife, but the look of absolute horror of being accused of touching you speaks volumes.

You can tell he would have doubled over catching his breath, hands on his knees, if not for his pride. Stubbornly, he stands tall, hands on hips, chest heaving.

‘Bit jumpy, are we?’ you quip.

‘You always that handsy?’ he retorts.

‘Can’t help myself with beautiful curls like yours,’ you wink, and your smile widens when he flushes.

Frankie throws up his hands in disbelief. ‘Shiv, I’m standing right here.’

‘You always are,’ you tease, pressing a kiss to his pinched lips. ‘Now, go take a walk, you've made enough of a scene.’

‘I’m not leaving you here with him -’

The older man scoffs. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not interested in your woman.’

You feign indignation. ‘Hey! That’s hurtful.’

‘You should be, jackass!’ Frankie gripes, and promptly looks as confused as the other man at his own pronouncement.

Taking his hand, you pull him towards the door. ‘Go on babe, you were going to have a drink with Pope anyway. I got everything under control.’

‘Alright,’ Frankie relents, but not before he points a menacing finger at your customer. ‘If he tries anything -’

‘I know where the gun is,’ you finish his sentence.

Pressing one final kiss to your lips and throwing a glare over your shoulder, Frankie turns and leaves - and you preen at the knowledge that he trusts you can take care of yourself.

Once the door closes, you smile. ‘So… should we start over?’

 The man snorts. ‘I’d say.’

‘I’m Shiv,’ you say, but you don’t offer him your hand. He doesn’t seem to be the handshaking type.

He picks up on your perception, studying you with curious eyes. ‘Joel.’

Pushing the swivel chair back to the styling station, you gesture at him to retake his seat, and this time, you make sure his eyes are on yours in the mirror while you stand over his shoulder.

‘Hair’s a bit long, huh?’ you remark, eyeing the ringlet over his eyes.

‘It’s drivin’ me nuts,’ he admits.

You hold up your hands this time, giving him plenty of notice. ‘May I?’

He nods, and you start small, wrapping the spiral around your index finger with a grin. ‘I wasn’t just saying it, y’know. You do have beautiful hair.’

He shifts awkwardly, the chair squeaking, obviously uncomfortable with compliments. ‘Dunno. I’m all gray and shit.’

‘As someone wise once said, grays are sexy as fuck,’ you assure him. Running your fingers through his curls, you study the texture critically, noting the blunt ends and uneven thickness. Nothing a professional haircut can’t fix. ‘Trust me, I’m very wise.’

He hums, unconvinced, but you can see the lines around his eyes crease in amusement. ‘If you say so.’

You wink at him in the mirror. ‘When I’m done with you, Tess will have the hardest time keeping her hands to herself.’

‘What makes you think she doesn’t already?’

It takes you a moment to unfreeze, stunned by his retort. At his arched eyebrow, you burst into laughter. ‘You’re a sassy one, aren’t you, Joel?’

He huffs, half-amused, and shakes his head. ‘It’s a haircut, not a miracle.’

You squeeze his shoulder, grinning when he doesn’t jump at the contact. ‘Trust me, I’m just that good at my job.’

More notes: If you enjoyed this oneshot, I wrote a series of drabbles of Shiv giving other Pedro boys haircuts - you can find them in the Grays masterlist 🩶 I may write more for this universe and some point if inspiration strikes again, thank you for reading!

And if you wanted an inspo shot of Joel's hair, here you go ❤️

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

#seams x grays #fuckyeahgrays #fuckyeahseams #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #joel miller fanfiction