#box dye directions bleach even more box dye

[ssongsboo]

been thinking a lot abt hyungseok and …watersports…

[god-has-entered-my-body]

𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

A/N: omg look who's here

word count: 2.5k

content warnings: kissing/making out, suggestive language, mentions of alcohol, cursing, thats it actually wow

“You’re not holding up your part, you need to-” 

“Don’t tell me to hold my end when you’re doing fuck all.” 

You sigh at the sound of Ross and Adam bickering, nervously picking at your nail beds as they carry in the sofa, Adam cautiously walking backwards whilst complaining about his lack of help. Panting and tired, they almost let it drop straight onto the floor before Matty shouts at them to lower it down properly, going over to save the precious hardwood floor from their carelessness. 

Boxes surround you, labeled things like “bathroom” or “kitchen”, the feeling surreal as you look around, taking in the room. The walls are still empty, yet to be decorated by the vintage art Matty had bought to add to your new home. Your home. 

Despite Denise's protests, you and Matty had saved up enough to rent your own flat on the other side of the city, a half an hour or so away from his parents and now closer to the guys, who had let George move in soon after his 18th birthday. Though cramped, they found a way to live semi peacefully, with George sleeping on the sofa indefinitely. 

You feel Matty come up behind you as you unpack the centerpiece for your coffee table, wrapping his arms around your waist and gently turning you around so you face him. 

The toothy grin on his face makes your heart swell with adoration, and you press a light kiss to his lips, humming contentedly as he pulls you in tighter. 

“Look at us, all grown up.” You whisper against his mouth, smiling sweetly as Matty nods, looking around the mostly empty space and snaking his hand into the back pocket of your jeans. 

You giggle at his little move, pressing yourself further into him. “Fucking insane, isn’t it? Our own place.” he sounds in awe, like he didn't pick this flat out himself and sign all the paperwork with you. 

Your moment is interrupted by gagging noises coming from none other than Ross, who’s currently scrunching up his face and telling you to “Get a room, mate, we don’t need to see all that.”, with Adam shooting you both an apologetic look. Matty shakes his head and lets you go, flipping Ross off before finding another box to unpack, bringing it into the bathroom. You follow close behind with a box of your own, wanting to get your toiletries in order before you spend your first night there. 

Matty pulls out toothbrushes, towels, creams, and toilet paper, putting the items in their respective places as you cut open the tightly sealed box in front of you. You find more hair stuff, old dye, brushes, and combs, but one thing catches your eye. A box of bleach makes its way into your hands, and you run your fingers over the label as old memories flood your mind. 

The way Matty laughed as you put the first layer of bleach onto his hair, begging you to not fry it off or make him orange, earning him an annoyed eye roll and a vague threat. The sound of his laugh will never not make you fall in love with him even more. 

“We should re-do your roots, baby, it's been a while.” you say as you turn around, taking the opportunity to run a hand through Matty’s hair, seeing the two or so inches where his highlights had grown out. They’re not extremely noticeable, but you can see them clearly whenever he puts his hair up, the two strands that frame his face looking off and unfinished. 

You’re not one to talk, though, wincing as you think back to your bleached hair, how uneven and fried it was afterwards, happy about your decision to dye it back to black.

Matty takes a look in the mirror, narrowing his eyes “Yeah, it has, hasn't it? I look proper trashy now.” turning his head in all different directions to see his hair from all angles. You laugh quietly, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek, smiling against his skin. “You know I don't mind.” you reassure him, raking your nails down his arm. 

Taking your time, you unpack the rest of the bathroom, stopping in between to make sure the other hasn't broken anything down the hall. Adam seems to have everything under control, being ever helpful as Ross and George bicker over who has to bring in the dining table, both of them refusing to do it. Their fighting makes you roll your eyes in defeat, calling Matty from the bathroom to help you bring in the parts to build it back up, making sure all the screws were still in the little ziplock bag you put them in. 

The first night in your new flat is strange, sleeping in an empty room with just a bed and more. boxes. Both of you are sick to fucking death of the boxes, praying that you’d get the rest done tomorrow in the hopes of having an actual home, decorated and filled with the things you love. Matty’s record player sits on the floor as you cuddle up to him, laying your head on his bare chest.  

The sound of his breathing soothes any anxiety you feel, a familiar safety enveloping your body as night falls, moonlight flooding in through the curtainless window. This change is a lot for you, and Matty knows that, but it’s also a fresh start. A new beginning for your relationship, for your lives together. 

You fall asleep with Matty’s hand in your hair, rubbing loving circles into your scalp. 

☁︎

Matty grins as the bells chime, his eyes landing on you. Shutting the door behind you, you greet the hostess with a smile, noting her name down in your head, and make your way over to him. With your bag slung over your shoulder, the keychains attached to it clink as you walk, lifting the bar door to be greeted with a kiss and hug from your boyfriend, his arms snaking around your hips and pulling you close. 

“Missed me that much?” he asks, a cheeky smile spread onto his face. You make eye contact with the shift manager across the room, and she nods at you, shooting you a polite smile before turning to talk to a server. His work knows you, and lets you hang out behind the bar under the condition that you don’t touch anything, and don't distract him from his customers. 

Matty’s finally landed a job at a bar downtown, hidden behind a tailor but still popular nonetheless. It fits him, and pays well enough that he could afford the rent by himself if he had to, but you split it equally anyway. 

The black stained wood of the place is pleasing to the eye, silver detailing on the tables and bar pulling it all together nicely. You have your chair behind Matty, a bar stool you sit on to keep him company while he works his shifts, mostly in the evening or late afternoon, when the place starts to fill a bit more. 

Though very much enjoying the view of your boyfriend in a loose, borderline skimpy white tank shaking and pouring drinks, you take to people watching. The couple at table nine seems to be fighting, charged glances being exchanged as they silently eat their food. The woman at the other end of the bar is looking for someone to take home tonight, dressed up to the nines and sweet talking a man who seems quite a bit older than her. 

You play some songs on their jukebox, taking song requests from Matty here and there, and even ordering a few drinks to occupy you. Matty brings you your martini, letting his fingers linger a few beats too long as he hands it to you, using the moment to kiss you softly, the minty smell of gum on his breath. 

Time ticks by slowly as you sip your drink, holding idle conversation with a girl sitting at the bar whilst doing your best to stay out of Matty’s way. You’re pulled away by Matty scooting past you, grabbing a tall glass for a customer. 

“He’s your boyfriend?” the blonde asks, gesturing to a now quite sweaty, and mildly stressed Matty pouring a gin and tonic. You smile and nod, brushing your hair out of your face. “Yeah, they let me chill here while he works. Pretty cool, yeah?”

“Layla.” she says, holding out her hand for you to shake, and you offer your own name. You talk for a long while, and you make Matty make her a new drink more than once. It feels nice having someone to talk to. Getting lost in conversation, you learn she braids hair for a living, and Layla asks what you do. “I work at the Wetherspoons down the road from our flat, opening shifts when I can.” 

It’s not long before Matty taps you on the shoulder, telling you he’s about to go on his break. You politely excuse yourself, smiling sweetly as you follow him outside to the alley, pack of cigarettes already in hand. “Who’s that?” he asks, referring to the person you’d been speaking to for the better part of an hour. 

“That's Layla, it’s her first time here.” Matty just hums in response, handing you his nearly empty lighter. 

It takes a few tries to light, and the first drag relaxes you immediately. You don’t speak much, just stand there smoking your respective cigarettes until Matty puts his out under his boot. You can tell he’s tired and stressed by the overwhelming amount of customers, and that this break is much needed to get him through the rest of his shift. 

“You doing okay?” you ask as his hands find your hips, his face burying itself into the crook of your neck. “You smell nice.” he murmurs into your skin, ignoring your previous question. You let your hands wander the expanse of his back, feeling Matty tense and relax his whole body under your touch. 

“M’just tired.” he adds, pulling away to press his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes. The closeness of it all makes you giddy, but at the same time you worry about him.  

“Is it always this busy? I don't like seeing you this tired, baby.” you speak slowly, not wanting to sound too overbearing, knowing how much he hates being babied. Matty sucks in a deep breath, standing up straighter before giving you your answer. “It’s Saturday, always gonna be a bit fuller with people going out.” you just nod, rubbing his back lovingly and pressing a soft kiss to his bitten lips. 

Matty sighs into the kiss, his hands finding your shoulders as you guide him the brick wall of the alley, pushing him up against it gently. You can tell he likes this little turn of events, letting you direct him and take over the kiss quickly, licking into his mouth as your fingers graze over his torso, grabbing onto his waist. The soft noises he lets out make you smile, pulling away to look at him properly. 

“Y’know, some people think i sit there to look pretty for you, when really, you’re absolutely gagging to be whisked away like this, aren't you?” you whisper, digging your nails into his hips as a grin spreads onto Matty’s face, complementing the faint blush on his cheeks beautifully. 

“S’nice being appreciated for how hard I work, especially if it's like this.” Matty answers, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip before pulling you back in and kissing you, harder this time. 

You feel him up properly, groping his chest and sides while he feels the curve of your ass, kneading the flesh and earning soft moans from you. Making out in the alley isn't really the best way to be spending his ten minute break, but you can't bring yourself to care. It isn't until you’re interrupted by a harsh knock on the door that you pull away from each other, quickly smoothing out your clothes and wiping lipstick off Matty’s lips, shooting him one last cheeky smile before he goes back inside, quickly following behind him. 

☁︎

The distinct smell of bleach fills the air as you mix the dye in your trusty bowl, using the back of the brush to do so. Matty sits on the white marble counter, swinging his feet and fiddling with the speaker, turning the volume higher before facing you again. Using clips, you pin his hair up gently, fixing it so it’s easier to put the foils on afterward. 

The look in Matty’s eyes as you layer the mixture on makes your heart melt. His brown eyes bore into yours, and you almost lose your concentration more than once, quickly wiping off the stray bleach off the bits where it's not supposed to be. 

“Don’t fuck up my hair, I beg you.” Matty warns jokingly, licking his lips as you bit yours, cleaning up your mistake in record time. 

“Don't look at me like that then, it’s throwing me off.” you breathe, wiping your hand on a towel before continuing painting his roots. “Like what?” Matty asks, raising his eyebrows at you, questioning your statement. You simply shake your head, smiling fondly as a wave of deja vu washes over you. 

“Remember the first time we did this, back when I was a blonde?” 

Matty giggles at the memory, making a comment about how fried your hair was after that, and how your mother almost killed you because of it. The mention of your parents shifts the mood, but you ignore that sinking feeling in your chest in favor of wrapping Matty’s hair up. 

“I really love you, you know that?” the words sound like they've been coated in love the way they make you so, so giddy when you hear them. Your cheeks flush as Matty smiles sweetly, his hand thumbing at your hip while you work on him. “I love you too.” you answer, loving the way his eyes light up when you speak. 

Nothing could replicate the feeling you get when you’re with him, the pure, passionate love the two of you share. 

You giggle at the sight of Matty all done up in foils, strips of metal sticking out of his hair wildly. Committing the sight to memory, you kiss him while you wait for his hair to lift, faintly tasting the chapstick on his lips. 

[lordkingsmith]

20) l0VrB0i; a hacker gets accidentally contacted by a newly single father. After assuming said father is a porn bot, he gets propositioned. Assumes this is a trick until he ends up in england with the guy, his kid, and an entire summer of a fling and playing family ahead of him. Oops.

I had to let these keep going before I responded lol. It’s alternating pov and I don’t know whose pov I love writing more but have Neil lol.

“Mr Creely-Halsin-if you’re going to attempt to hack the school, don’t do it with a school computer.” He had to give the kid credit, it was ballsey. “Use a laptop from outside the school if you must. But really? Last day of school? For what?”

“The sniggles”

“…so I gathered the first time” he pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off a massive headache. How ‘sniggles’ had replaced lolz or shits and giggles he didn’t know, and was fairly sure this was something he didn’t want to.

“I just don’t know what they’re thinking nowadays Nex” he lamented later that night to a friend. “And I never thought I’d be out of touch but here we are.” He paused. “Am I out of touch?”

“No more than I am” Nex replied on speaker as Neil contemplated what shade of blue to go with. Electric River or Cemetery Twilight. Creative names for what was just essentially neon light blue and indigo. He wasn’t a fan of names trying to dress up something as more than it was but these were the best quality hair dyes he could get his hands on so he dealt with it.

“So I am extremely out of touch” he decided as he picked Electric River and put the other back in his bathroom mirror cupboard for the time being. “S’ppose it’s not the worst thing.” He contemplated his black hair with just the beginnings of silver at the temples critically in the mirror. “D’you think I’m hot?” He asked Nex, and for her credit she didn’t audibly express surprise.

“….Neil we are both as gay as Kellog’s worst nightmares.”

“Yea but we can window shop. Am I hot?”

“…I mean. You turn heads. People definitely want to get in your pants. Why?”

“Well…”he rubbed at his chin, still staring at himself. “I’m sending you a convo I had with a possible bot. You tell me. I gotta bleach my hair so I’ll see what you think when I’m done.”

“Sounds good.”

Later, running a hand over his scalp as he tried to figure out the box directions for the dye, Nex called him back.

“So what I’m getting is he’s maybe not real but he’s lonely.”

“Mhm”

“And allegedly a widower with a teenaged daughter who goes to a very good school.”

“Mhm”

“And has enough money to fund you spending a summer with him vacationing, sight seeing and fucking.”

“…mhm.”

“So you agreed to be the guy’s sugar baby for the summer?”

This stopped Neil up short. He stared at the worrying crack on his wall before having to get through a hoarse squawk before he could even strangle out a “maybe?”

Aka, even extremely brilliant men can be kinda dumb lol. He’s not against the idea obviously, but neither guy’s considered what this would look like

[xoteajays]

Attractive men are already attractive, but adding all these tattoos and piercings to attractive men would be a bonus to me. Especially for Asian men. And I'm saying "especially Asian men" because of how really uncommon it is. Japan associates tattoos with a lot of criminals like yakuza, and it's also same in Korea. Korean also associates tattoos with some criminals, thugs and gangster too. Just like how it is in Japan. Actually! In Korea, the only why you can get tattoos is by a doctor instead of a tattoo artist. It's so weird.

That is why whenever I am attracted to most Asian musicians, they're attractive men covered in tattoos and piercings. Which isn't really a surprise though.

Maybe Cobra should have tattoos?

For the Exile Tribe musicians. So I don't know about any tattoos but they do have a lot of piercings that I have seen. So those guys at least have piercings.

The only time you ever see Cobra with black hair is when he was a child. And since Sannoh would have the Puma siblings at the barber shop, I would which one dyes Cobra's hair? If he does not dye his hair all by himself. Maybe Orange helps him dye his hair.

And I've mentioned this before with someone else... I imagine Rocky going to a hair salon. Not only does his hair look healthy after he bleaches his hair, since his hair does look healthy. I could also even imagine the hairdresser being a woman. Because she would get a decent tip afterwards since Rocky likes to just help women in any ways he can. And if he does end up overhearing gossip about how men mistreat the women, you might hear even more gossip that they were sent to the hospital. All thanks to Rocky too.

But that's what I kept thinking about for Rude Boys. If they didn't have money to buy any dyes, does this mean they stole hairdye? But with how bright P has died his hair, you'd have to bleach before dying that color. This is coming from someone who will always dye their hair different colors. My hair is blue now.

And if you're bleaching your own hair, professional bleach is different than bleach you'd get in a box of dyes. Not the same. Boxed bleach is very damaging compared to professional bleach. The hair is always fried afterwards. It's better to get professional done since they actually know what they're doing with all those products. So I don't know about Rude Boys.

Almost did recognize you meant Hirōmi. I was very shocked to know that was Hirōmi since I'm used to seeing him with short hair, and even his long hair I'd seen was still technically short. That is the longest I have ever seen his hair so that definitely threw me a bit. But I'm getting used to it now. Still a bit weird.

~

I won't lie.. I almost thought Yang could have won if it was possible. He had the giant knife! Or was it the giant sword? Whatever that blade was. I thought he was going to win. Until you find out about knives in Myeong's made Yang bleed out a lot.

Does Bibi get revenge for her family? How does she feel when Ju moves to Rome? Those questions..

These boys need every bit of affectionate. I am not an affectionate person, but being around them just makes me want to be really affectionate with them.

Gun definitely needed affection in every way, from hugs to kisses. And also a shoulder to cry on too.

~

If you read the complete webtoon, you will find out that the original plot of Bloodhounds ends with more clarity: we see Myeong-gil in prison, confirming that he was arrested. Meanwhile, Geon-woo, Woo-jin, and Hyun-ju will start a sort of bloodhounds agency, focusing on good clients. So, in general, we could say that the plot of Bloodhounds could continue, both in the original webtoon and the Netflix series. However, the two stories could take different directions: the webtoon could focus on the new adventures of the three young people with their new agency, whereas the Netflix series could still propose some plot twists that would let Myeong-gil and In-beom be back in the game.

And this.. This is another reason why I have to really read the webtoon comics. For more details about it, for more details about the story and characters too.

I didn't hate the ending. It was mostly a happy end.. At least for the boys and Gun's mother, and also the wealthy guys they worked with. Mr. Oh and Da-min, they're also alive. And Ju's living in Rome right now.

I blame the actress. I'm assuming because of them having to rewrote the ending multiple times.. This is the ending they settled with. That's why I'm curious about the original ending for the show. And if they'd continue the show - since that wasn't clarified, then what would happen in any more seasons after this.

I didn't hate the ending. But I also wished there was just a little more to the ending too, like more details with some parts of the plot. I don't know. Just more details.. And so this is why I'm blaming the actress.

~

Seriously. I'm not trying to objectify these men, and I know you would say different though. But.. I am so serious about this. Those boys really take good care of themselves, their bodies, and they'd still exercise together too. And seriously, their asses do look very great in those tight pants and shorts. Diligent men.

As someone who isn't physically active, there's this part of me that wants to exercise to be healthy a lot the times I see characters like this because you just always notice how great in shape these people are.

Or at the very least, I would like to learn martial arts for self defense. Or something... I don't really know.

But speaking of gloves and tight black clothes.. So I may have a style for post timeskip then based on all those details. Maybe. I don't know. But maybe I do.

Yeah. I didn't hate Da-min's character, I just wish we had more of her character for better opinions about her. And I did thick that was sweet of the boys, with they covering her eyes and ears. Even though I may have been looking at those muscles in those scenes a lot. But the reactions the boys had, especially Jin, when Moon threatened to puncture the guy's balls.

And I'm happy Jin got his revenge against this guy, since he was the guy who stab Jin.

Like I know she is about 5'6, but why the fuck does she look so small compared to the boys though.

And this is how my size kink comes in with them. I'll need to marry these guys soon.. This has to happen now. They're so perfect. Or I need a man like them.

Then I'll start sending some pictures over then... I'm not sure you would use those visuals for her but you might. I don't know. But I'll still send the pictures.

~

This is why I rotate fandoms.. I'll work on whichever characters I have inspiration for at the moment, but then go back to them when I have more ideas when I do think up of ideas. Like sometimes when I'm just not overthinking about it, about characters, I would get some ideas for them. That's why I rotate with so many fandoms, stories, characters, ideas, anything.

I just work on what I'm inspired by in that moment.

Because I think it's easier for me that way.

~

I don't think I've seen the pink hair? But his height... 183 cm or 184 cm, depending on the site you would read from. Which makes him slightly over six feet.

He didn't seem that tall in All Of Us Are Dead but I'll be rewatching that again soon. So I don't know.

But again, as a short person like myself, everyone is taller than me. So I probably wouldn't have noticed.

i think some of the exile members have tattoos. i know at least one of the singers in generations has tattoos. not sure about everyone else. none of the main guys i’m looking at when i’m watching videos, unless they’re fake ones. a lot of ear piercings tho.

since the barbers are kinda his friends, i can see him going to them. or if he’s been dyeing it a while, he just does it himself at home.

i bet all the women love rocky at the salon. kizzy probably goes to the same place because hairdressers have the best gossip.

i used to dye my hair a lot too and it takes forever and you can’t just slap bright colours on like that. do they just have bleaching parties? takeshi at least isn’t bleached bleached, like it’s on the darker blonde side as opposed to cobra and rocky. i made a joke to myself that pi’s bandana hides his dark regrowth.

the long hair is definitely a whole different vibe on him. he dyes his hair a lot for the jsb videos tho. like he’s had a silvery tone and blonde and a lighter brown too. i do think he looks better with dark hair tho.

~

i was hoping yang was going to win but i knew he wasn’t because it wasn’t good for the plot if myeong gil died there, because there’d be no showdown with the two lead characters. and i knew he wasn’t going to just leave because yang would’ve chased him down. so the only way it was going to end was with yang dead. which SUCKS because i liked yang!!

bi uses her dad’s knifes for the last two episodes. she punches jae myeong for his disrespect against her father. she doesn’t get to fight myeong gil because she’s downstairs helping jin with in beom, but she’s pleased to see that gun’s beat him. she’d prefer him to be dead, but she’s convinced towards gun and jin’s ‘no killing’ thing over the six months they spend together. if i decide to keep ju in her story, then she’s pissed about ju just leaving without saying anything, probably calls her a lot and leaves her a lot of voicemails.

at least with my rewrite, gun’ll have bi there to hug him since ju just ditched before she even knew jin was going to be okay. like i know she was in pain but jeez.

~

since gun and jin got those gold bars from min beom, they could put those together (or one bar each) towards starting the bloodhounds business, since they gave most of the gold away to build that hospital. or they could go in a different direction for the show, but i’m not sure what. i think it’d be interesting to introduce a new villain and have myeong gil as a b-plot for a while while he’s in prison. maybe alluding to his connections that could get him out.

it was a happy ending it was just very abrupt. like it just goes ‘happy ending, hug, boom! credits!’. like it’s over very quickly. it’s probably just because of the rewrite and they were strapped for time and put more into the fights and such.

it also feels very. closed. like most shows have more open, ‘ooh what’s going to happen in season 2~’ endings, but bloodhounds didn’t. it’s just. over real quick. i hope they don’t can the show just because of ju’s actor.

~

i am objectifying them. i’m looking inappropriately. they open up the first episode with gun in shorts and his thighs looking muscular! and i’m supposed to act regular about it? never.

i’ve got that interview video about their workout regime in my watchlist. will need to take a look at it. but they’re both clearly very in shape and gun’s actor mentioned in a short i watched that he and jin’s actor enjoy working out. and that they’re both homebodies, boy me too.

she needed more than a couple of scenes across two episodes. jin and gun being so horrified by the ball stabbing is funny to me; also i just know bi wouldn’t be having the same reaction. she’d be like ‘yea. stab him’.

she looks so small but 5’6 isn’t even that short! i need to see how shorter girls compare to them. i also think the guys both just have. large hands. they’re tall dudes afterall.

here’s what i’m thinking for a rewrite to replace ju with da min. here’s how i can still win.

da min is oh’s granddaughter, so she grew up around choi enough to see him as a second grandfather. seeing her as a granddaughter since he had no children of his own, he offered to pay for good schooling for her and even a good compound bow when she showed interest in it and joined her school’s club. after her military service - if she wasn’t exempted, i couldn’t find a good list for reasons for exception but she has pretty bad eyesight since she wears glasses/contacts - she comes to work for choi at his loan business. she gets to have a taser too, since it’s not easy to haul around a compound bow everywhere. choi hires gun and jin for her protection, but she’s still as stubborn about it as when they come to her apartment. she still accuses them sometimes of being perverts or smelling bad, doesn’t trust them quickly, but sighs and puts up with it and eventually warms up to them. she’s got her bow for the underground fight. gun still has to carry her out of the house after she finds choi dead. she doesn’t just leave the hospital before finding out jin’s going to be okay, oh probably shows up too to make sure they’re okay. she trains a lot with her bow during the six month time skip, and they still use her apartment as a home-base. her grandfather’s abduction goes all the same, no need for rewriting that. i think she’d be friendly with the police tech lady. she watches gun fight myeong gil on the boat but can’t help because she can’t risk firing an arrow and hitting gun.

unfortunately have to give up the cute lee & ju moments since da min doesn’t look much like lee and i cant imagine da min on a motorcycle. might have to swap bi for that part, she’s already got her knife, she’d just need to learn how to ride a bike.

to also tie in eun bi, she and da min went to school together but weren’t really friends. da min didn’t have many friends beyond her fellow archers and they were more competitive than friendly; bi also didn’t have many friends because she broke the school’s baseball star’s elbow because he was being a douche to female students (including her).

~

i didn’t notice how tall he was in all of us are dead, but i think that’s because a lot of the other guys are decently tall too (most around ~180cm). maybe he looks that tall in comparison to the girls, but i don’t remember. you’ll have to let me know if you do end up rewatching it.

[neutron-stars-collision]

Rebel Yell?

Neil x Reader - One Shot

Masterlist

Summary: Neil needs to dye his hair once again. It proves to be harder than it may seem...

Warnings: Swearing, a whole deal of chaos.

Author's Notes: I don't even know. The shoot in question inspired me, because of course it did, and I tried to shut up the mean brain through writing. In result, this came to exist within 24h and is literally the shortest of drabbles. Hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Sat on the sofa, you minded your own business, utterly lost in the newest Ikea catalogue that just showed in the post box. Not that you had been planning any refurbishments. But who could ever say no to a peaceful afternoon spent scanning pages with the photos of perfectly white kitchen cabinets and minimalistic Scandinavian style bedrooms? Not you, that’s who.

With Niki sharing the space on the sofa and his head propped on your folded knees, it was almost too blissful.

So far that when you heard the first louder bang coming from the bathroom, you did not even bat an eyelid. But when that noise was followed by a bunch of louder ones and an impressive cursing, you glanced at the dog with concern and called out:

“You alright there?” a look in the direction of the bathroom gave you nothing.

It was one of those ‘roots dyeing’ days. And those could mean chaos, as you came to understand. You did not have to wait long for a response:

“Remember when you said I need more bleach to be like Billy Idol? Well… you just might’ve gotten yourself a discount version” the resignation in Neil’s voice was the driving force behind standing up from the sofa.

With a grin splitting your face, you marched towards the bathroom, curiosity piqued.

“Surely it can’t be that bad…” it was more of an assurance to yourself.

In haste, your foot slipped on the wood panels, and you managed to steady yourself by getting hold of the door handle last minute. Letting out an adrenaline-filled gasp, you opened the bathroom door wide, just as Neil muttered:

“Well…” he shot you a concerned look, reflected by the mirror he was facing.

It took you an additional second to register what was wrong with his hair. And then another to understand that it was no trick of the light. Up until the hairline, everything was fine. The same lean body with just the right amount of musculature and handsome face, now frowning into his reflection. But instead of the familiar dirty blonde, the damp strands were now platinum blonde. Quite like Idol’s back in the ‘80s. Your eyes widened as the jarring image created a harsh dissonance with your reality. Finally, after what felt like minutes, you managed to gasp out three words:

“Jesus fucking christ,” the dam opened as you folded in laughter with the tears streaming down your face, “Fucking hell, I can’t-” unable to breathe, you took in greedy inhales and tried to calm down.

It took another few minutes of standing with your back against the shower door. Neil, however, did not seem to share your joy. He had not moved since you came in, still transfixed on the image in the mirror.

“I know, it’s a disaster” the brooding voice acted like a wake-up call.

You needed one more look at his sombre expression to step forward and run your hand up his back, propping your chin on his shoulder:

“I’ve seen worse” sending him a reassuring smile you placed a quick kiss on the nape of Neil’s neck.

Precisely on the beauty spot. Leaning back, you caught the uncertainty in his gaze.

“Did you?” the scepticism dripped from the words as he glanced at you sideways.

Restless fingers combing through the strands with revulsion visible in every move. That would not do.

“Mm…” you nodded and embraced him, pressing your body against his back “You’re still bloody gorgeous, so there’s that” a wink as your hands trailed over his chest, taking pleasure in the way he trembled slightly “Even when you’re pouting like a starving Lab,” the addition said just to make Neil crack a smile.

Once he did, you placed another kiss on his shoulder and let your eyes roam over his reflection. Even though wildly ridiculous, the hair took nothing from his beauty, helping the blue of his eyes stand out more.

“Careful, or he’ll hear you” Neil threw a cautious glance towards the corridor and then back at you, frown still present on the beautiful face, “No, but seriously, what do I do now? I can’t look like this” he made a vague hand gesture at the knotted strands with despair in the voice.

Yet it was clear that the initial crisis was averted, for Neil placed his free hand on yours, returning the embrace and acknowledging the tenderness. You could work with that sort of attitude. Reaching out to tangle your fingers in his hair, you leaned in to take a closer look. Obviously, you will help him. For better or worse, considering the lack of experience. After the initial study, you met Neil’s gaze reflected in the mirror and answered the unasked question:

“I’ll pop to the shop tomorrow and buy some darker blonde developer, and it… should be fine” you tried to mask the missing confidence with a grin.

However, Neil knew better.

“Should be?” catching onto the word, he gently peeled away your arms to turn and face you; reluctance painted all over his features.

Suddenly eager to be closer again, you took hold of his hands, smiling wide once he tangled up your fingers together, palms flush.

“Ninety per cent?” you offered like one suggests the lowest acceptable price when haggling.

Neil cracked a grin, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead and making your heart melt in progress. The excess of love poured out through your eyes as you eyed him curiously.

“Guess that’s as good as it gets,” he chuckled, squeezing your hands tightly and noticing your amazed gaze with a smirk hidden in the corner of his mouth, “What?” letting go of your hand, he cupped your cheek, caressing the skin lightly.

It was easy to stare for ages, taking note of all the details that made him special. The crinkles around his eyes, the blueish grey of the irises and the affectionate look focused on you with certainty. It was hard to put it into words, and so a cliché had to do:

“Nothing, you’re just incredible” unable to deny yourself the pleasure, you rose on the tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his mouth.

It caught him by surprise, for Neil blinked twice, shaking off the stupor and pulling you into his arms with an innocent expression:

“Incredibly stupid?” he added, eyebrow arched to make himself look even more adorable.

Even though the suggestion was too ridiculous to be considered as a truth. You let your palms wander up his bare chest to tangle at the nape of his neck, staying close in every aspect:

“Nah, just incredible,” reasserting the stance and glancing down at his mouth once again, happiness filling your chest with its warmth “Mine, too” another truth repeated for the sake of it.

Neil grinned as he let his forehead press against yours, the ghost of his breath trailing over your parted lips in the most straightforward of temptations.

“Oh yes, hundred per cent yours,” he overenunciated the words, eyes sparkling with glee.

A perfect moment to close the gap and capture his mouth in a slow kiss. And to heighten his senses by tangling your hand in the platinum hair and pulling gently. Exactly enough to make Neil whine in frustration and kiss you with increased hunger. It was always this simple.

You only broke apart when the need for breath became stronger than the want for each other. Even then, Neil kept the tight hold over your waist, looking down upon you with desire burning bright in his eyes. You knew the moment was far from over when he showed you the trademark mischievous smile and leaned in to whisper into your ear:

“Ever dreamt of making love with Billy Idol?” if it was not for the husky whisper and the way his lips touched the shell of your ear, you would have burst into another fit of laughter.

But instead, you felt the familiar shiver of anticipation, masked only with a nonplussed poker face you tried to offer.

“Nope” on its own accord, your hand slid down his stomach to test the potentials, so to speak, “But with you, yes” once your fingers hooked over the band of his joggers, Neil sucked in the air sharply.

You knew the answer even before he said it, sizing you up with unconcealed need:

“Perfect” with one hand, he slammed the bathroom door shut and picked you up effortlessly to set you down on the counter.

Perfect? Absolutely.

[some-unoriginal-fandom-trash]

for the word meme: i pick "fall" (or "fell")!

!! oooo!! another one!! ty!! So this one is a character study of Wash, and all the names he’s picked up throughout his life :) kinda neat that the two asks I’ve gotten coincide with literally the only two rvb fics i’m working on lmao

You’re twelve when you decide to dye your hair for the first time. You walk into a general store, your dad twirling the car keys around his pointer finger. “Sure you wanna do this?” He asks, an eyebrow raised at you.

You shrug, and stuff your hands in your pockets. “I mean, yeah. It’ll look cool. And it’ll come out, and we don’t even have to do that whole bleaching thing.”

Your dad nods, and says “alright kiddo, if you’re sure” and leaves it at that. You walk along the isles, tracing a finger down the item labels. Your dad walks behind you, amused at your adamant refusal to ask an employee for help. You find the hair dye eventually though, so it works out anyway.

“So,” your dad says, and claps his hands together as he does so, “what color are we thinking?”

You stare at the rainbow of options. Some are more natural colors, probably for touch ups or something. You don’t need, or want, that. You keep looking. There’s almost every shade imaginable, when a spot of blue catches your eye. You grab the box.

“Good choice,” your dad says, and ruffles your hair with his hand. He knows you hate when he does that. “It’ll fade to a sort of aqua at one point, you still cool with that?”

You shrug. “Yeah, it’ll look pretty cool either way.” You turn the box over in your hands, and start skimming the directions. You’ll have to get someone to help you, but you kind of already figured that.

Your dad grabs a pack of mint gum, and then a case of lite beer, and the cashier rings those up along with your hair dye. She rattles off your total, and you grab the bag with your box of hair dye in it as soon as your receipt prints. Your dad grabs the case of beer, and the two of you pile into the car.

You kind of can’t wait to dye your hair, so you start reading the box instructions again. Your dad turns up the stereo and hums along to his playlist, and though you recognize the songs, you tune them out.

You unbuckle as soon as your dad pulls into the driveway, and he looks over at you, eyebrows raised again. “What?” you say, deadpan. He shakes his head, puts the car in park, and then turns it off.

“Go inside, and let your mother know what we’re about to do. She’ll set up a chair and plastic wrap.”

You roll your eyes. You were gonna do that anyway. You take your garage stairs two at a time (which isn’t all that impressive, there’s only five steps anyway), and open the door. The bag goes on the kitchen table, and out comes your prize.

“Mom?” You yell, unsure of where she is in the house. “We got the hair dye! Can you set up the kitchen so we don’t make a mess?”

She comes down the stairs, clapping her hands together to get imaginary dust off. “David, manners please,” she says, teasing.

You roll your eyes again. “Can you set up the kitchen please.”

She sighs. “I suppose that’s better.” She pulls out a chair, and you open the box of hair dye.

It takes up the rest of the evening, dying your hair. Your dad does most of the legwork, with your mom cleaning up occasionally. You hop in the shower once it’s done, and a lot of it comes out, but apparently that’s normal. You use the dark towels to dry your hair, and little droplets of bright blue water trace rivers as they fall down your face. Even wet, it looks good. You grin at your reflection.

Your dad knocks on the door, and you turn as he opens it. “Hey kiddo, how’s it lookin’?”

“Pretty cool I think,” you say, and he nods his head.

“Alright,” he says, and then flips on the fan with the switch by the door. “Oh yeah, this was in the bag. You want it?” He pulls out a slip of paper. It's that poster you see everywhere, now that you’ve gone looking for it. “I think it’s a sticker.”

“Just leave it on my dresser.” You scratch the back of your head, and it comes back wet with more blue water. “I’ll have to get used to that.”

Your dad hums with agreement. “It looks good. Anyway, good night David. Sleep well.”

“Night dad!” As he closes the door, you begin to get ready for bed. The sticker stays on your dresser, mostly because you don’t know what to do with it.

You now know the man in the green uniform is a soldier, and the monsters he’s fighting are the Covenant.

Your name is “David”, and you are twelve.

[viastro]

trailing arbutus | lee juyeon

ミ★ synopsis: you couldn’t help but fall for the boy who offered you his umbrella on that rainy day in the fall.

ミ★ genre: hanahaki!au, best friends to lovers!au, angst, some humor, some fluff

ミ★ warnings: mentions of death, vomiting

ミ★ word count: 5,038

ミ★ pairings: juyeon x gender neutral reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys ! it’s been a while since i released a tbz oneshot so here’s juyeon ! spring break is coming soon and my classes for spring quarter are a lot easier than the classes i was taking during winter quarter, so i should be able to post oneshots more consistently again... i hope </3 AJLEGSBKRJ don’t hold me to that <333 keep your expectations of me very low <333 the flower that juyeon gave yn may seem familiar if you read my minghao oneshot, last a lifetime >:D anyways, i hope you guys enjoy this ! i wish i could’ve spent some more time on it, but alas. make sure to give juyeon lots of love <3

You met Juyeon in the Fall, when the raindrops began to descend down from the sky and you had forgotten to bring your umbrella.

“Fuck me.” You curse under your breath as you see the pellets of rain drop onto the sidewalk before you, wondering why the weather app always seems to fail you in times of need. 

You were studying at the library for your biopsychology midterm at the end of the week, as you feel that your apartment has too many distractions. For once in your life, you checked the weather app to see if it would rain, and it said no rain.

It lied.

So now here you are, no umbrella in your hand as you debate on whether to sacrifice your textbook or your bag. 

“This textbook was 200 dollars…” You mumble to yourself, now deciding which of the items to ruin. You open up your bag to place the textbook inside, only to pause when you feel a presence beside you. Turning your head, you see an incredibly handsome blonde man standing to your left, holding an opened umbrella above you.

“Don’t ruin your textbook and bag.” He tells you with a small smile, and you raise an eyebrow, looking down at your bag that now holds your giant biopsych book. 

“I would’ve only ruined my bag.” You respond, and the pretty man chuckles, pointing at the cloth material of your bag. You purse your lips, coming to terms with the fact that he has made some strong points. 

“Take my umbrella.” He says, giving the umbrella he’s holding a slight jiggle. You shake your head, raising your hands up to tell him that it’s fine, only to pause when he places the umbrella handle into the palm of your hand. 

“It’s okay, my friend has one anyways. Get home safe!” And with a final smile, he heads back into the library. Leaving you standing at the entrance, in a state of both shock and gratitude as you hold the pretty stranger’s umbrella. You glance back towards the rain, and begin your descent down the stairs, heading back to your apartment.

It’s when you’re close to the trees that you pause, turning to look back towards the library when you realize something. 

“I never got his name.” You mutter, before letting out a sigh. You continue on the path towards your apartment building, feeling too lazy to go back and ask for the kind man’s name. 

The thought of his smile still lingers in your mind, even when you return to the warmth of your home.

You didn’t see Juyeon for a month afterwards, but you made sure to keep his umbrella with you in case you ran into him on campus again. The day you finally saw the pretty boy again, it was in fact, raining. Except this time, the roles were switched. 

You had an umbrella, and he didn’t.

“Rain, I have a love and hate relationship with you.” You state quietly as you walk towards the cafe, umbrella shielding you from getting drenched. The weather app lied to you once again, saying that it was only going to be partly cloudy.

Partly cloudy your ass.

You hold the umbrella that the pretty man gave you a month ago, feeling grateful that you’ve been carrying it on you since that day just in case you ran into him. However, you’ve ended up using it more often than you originally thought you would.

You squint when you see a familiar blonde haired man holding his bag over his head as he walks to his destination. You speed up your pace until you’re close to him, and realize that he’s the pretty stranger from a month ago.

Without a word, you take a few more steps and outstretch the umbrella over his head, and he pauses, turning to look at you. The two of you stop walking, and he tilts his head to the side when he recognizes you, a pretty smile coming over his features. 

“Don’t ruin your bag.” You point out with a grin, and he lets out a laugh, nodding his head. He glances up at the umbrella, chuckling when he sees that it’s the same one he gave you that day at the library. Looking back at you he asks, “You kept it?” 

You nod your head, an incredulous look coming onto your face. “Of course I did! Why would I get rid of a stranger’s umbrella?” 

The man purses his lips, before outstretching his hand in your direction. “Hi, I’m Lee Juyeon.” 

You smile, now knowing the name of the kind man as you reach out and grasp his hand, giving it a slight squeeze. “I’m yn yln.” 

A year since that fateful encounter, you and Juyeon are walking towards his apartment underneath a shared umbrella. The rain falls softly against the clear plastic, and you watch as the droplets fall off the sides and onto the ground. 

“Always so intrigued by the rain, huh?” Juyeon asks you with a grin, making you turn and look at his face. He dyed his hair black a few months after the two of you became friends, having had Changmin color it for him. However, with the boxed bleach you hold in the shopping bag as the two of you walk, you know Juyeon’s hair is about to be fried.

“The rain is nice when I’m not getting wet.” You respond with a nudge, and Juyeon chuckles, nodding his head in agreement. You both turn into the apartment building entrance, with the black haired beauty shaking the umbrella to remove the excess water. 

“Are you sure you want to bleach your hair again?” You ask once the two of you enter the elevator, and he nods his head as he wraps up the umbrella. “Yeah, I miss the blonde.” 

Pursing your lips at the thought of Juyeon possibly going bald, you decide to press more, “Your hair could end up being absolutely fried.” 

Your pretty friend simply shrugs his shoulders, taking a photo of the boxed bleach in the bag that you’re holding. You let out a sigh when the elevator doors open and you both step out, wondering how he manages to just not care about anything. 

“Okay, I have another question.” You state as the two of you walk up to Juyeon’s apartment door. He raises an eyebrow at you as he turns the key, letting you step in first. “Mm?” 

“Are you sure you want me to bleach your hair for you? Do you remember the last time I tried to dye Changmin’s hair pink?” Juyeon just chuckles at the tragic memory, shrugging off his coat and placing it onto the rack. He stretches his hand out to you, and you hand him your own jacket, watching as he places it beside his own. 

“Yeah. I trust you, yn.” Juyeon tells you as he walks off towards the bathroom, stretching his arms over his head as he does so. Your eyes catch the sliver of skin that appears when his shirt rides up, and you immediately turn away, letting out a frustrated breath as warmth floods your face.

“You really shouldn’t have this much trust in me.” You mutter, following after the pretty man. The two of you set up the bathroom, with you preparing the bleach solution and Juyeon placing newspapers onto the floor. 

“You ready?” Juyeon glances up from his phone and into the mirror, sending you a grin that makes your heart palpitate within your chest. “Of course.” 

You place the brush with the bleach concoction onto a few strands of Juyeon’s hair, wincing at the image of your pretty friend going bald because of how often he colors his hair. Juyeon raises an eyebrow at the furrow to your brows and the pout to your lips, letting out a chuckle as he turns around and rests his hand on your head. 

You snap out of the trance of a bald Juyeon, just to find your best friend staring at you with an amused expression on his face. With his thumb, he reaches down and swipes the crease between your eyebrows until it goes away. He gives you a kind smile once his hand lowers back down to his lap, “Why did it look like you stepped in a pile of dog poop as you started to bleach my hair?” 

You don’t answer for a moment as you return to placing the bleach onto the ends of Juyeon’s hair, warmth flooding your face at the physical contact that lasted very briefly but sent your heart spiraling. Juyeon watches you in the mirror, awaiting your answer. 

These feelings have to stop before it’s too late, You think to yourself once you feel yourself begin to calm down. It wasn’t shocking to you that you felt a bit attracted to Juyeon, as he is incredibly handsome and has a precious personality to match. What was surprising, albeit a bit scary, is that your attraction for Juyeon didn’t dwindle as the two of you became closer over a span of a year. In fact, it’s only grown since then.

But that is one of the few facts that you refuse to acknowledge.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you take out a comb and part another section of Juyeon’s hair and finally glance up into his eyes in the mirror with a playful smile. 

“Cause I thought of how you’d look bald.” 

Juyeon scoffs, eliciting a giggle out of you when you take note of his own expression turning a bit sour from the image appearing in his mind. 

“If I go bald, I’m blaming you.” 

“You just said you trusted me!” 

“Yeah, well. That was before you placed the image of me being bald in my head.” Juyeon says, laughing when he sees you biting the inside of your cheek to hold back your own chuckles. He nudges you slightly, and your laughter pours out, mixing with his own as you continue to bleach his hair.

The previous worries you had slowly melt away, but inch back towards the surface each time you lock eyes with your best friend.

You scroll through your phone, looking through Twitter to try and find memes as you wait for Changmin to come for your guys’ weekly lunch run. Your thumb halts its sweeping movement when you feel a presence standing before you, and you glance up to see Juyeon staring at you with a smile on his face. 

Immediately you frown, “What are you doing here?” 

Juyeon’s eyebrows furrow in response to your unenthusiastic reaction. He runs a hand through his blonde hair, “Changmin has to stay after at practice because he needs to help fix the choreo. He told me he texted you, but you didn’t respond.” 

You purse your lips, going to the messages app to see that you did, in fact, completely miss Changmin’s message that he couldn’t make it and that Juyeon will be his replacement for the week. You grin when your eyes land on the last text.

changmin: this is only a one time thing ! no one can ever replace me on our weekly lunch extravaganzas >:DD

“Mmm.” You mutter, placing your phone into your pocket and looking up at Juyeon, who is squinting at you. 

“What?”

“Why are you so unhappy that you’re eating lunch with me and not Changmin?” Juyeon asks, and you smile, beginning to walk towards McDonalds without answering his question. The blonde just stares after you with an amused smile on his face, watching as you turn back towards him and cup your hands around your mouth.

“Changmin is more entertaining!” 

Juyeon’s mouth drops open at your words, and you let out a loud laugh at how offended he looks. He points towards you with a competitive grin on his face, and your eyes widen when you realize what that look means. 

“Juyeon, no.” He simply starts running after you without a response, making you elicit a squeal as you begin to sprint away. The two of you run through campus, ignoring all the other students around you as you let out bright laughs while listening to Juyeon’s shouts.

“You’ll NEVER CATCH ME ALIVE!” 

You suddenly feel your wrist get grabbed, and you’re pulled back into Juyeon’s body as he laughs, staring into your eyes with all the stars in the universe. Warmth floods your face from the close proximity between the two of you, wondering if he’s even affected by this as he looks at you.

“I caught you alive.” Juyeon states with a grin, pulling back and raising his arms up as he stretches. It takes you a moment to answer as you wait for your heart to calm down, before rolling your eyes and nudging him. 

“Whatever. You got a head start.” 

“You literally ran before I even chased after you.” You simply shrug your shoulders, and Juyeon lets out a chuckle as the two of you peacefully walk towards the fast food franchise. 

“You still think Changmin is more fun than me?” Juyeon asks as the two of you pass the flower shop, signaling that you’re close to McDonalds and closer to eating very unhealthy french fries. Biting the inside of your cheek, you respond, “I think you’re both equally fun.” 

When you don’t hear a reply from Juyeon, you turn your head and realize that the blonde is no longer walking alongside you. You glance back to see him standing by a bucket that holds a few flowers, and you raise an eyebrow when he tentatively lifts a pale pink blossom out. 

Juyeon walks back over to you with a friendly smile on his face, and you open your mouth to ask what it is, only to pause when he reaches out and tucks the fragile flower behind your ear. You look into his eyes to search for an answer as to why, but you fail to find it.

Juyeon looks away from you first, pointing towards the direction of the McDonalds. “Let’s go get lunch, yn.” 

You nod your head slowly, and the two of you walk side by side to the fast food establishment, all while you try to calm down your racing heart. In your head you’re just repeating to yourself the same sentence like a mantra to try to remind yourself not to overthink the action.

he doesn’t like you, he doesn’t like you, he doesn’t like you. stop these feelings before it’s too late.

It’s only later when you’re alone in your bathroom throwing up the familiar pale pink petals that you realize, 

it’s too late.

“What ramen do you think yn would like better?” Changmin asks Juyeon as the two walk around the convenient store to buy groceries for you. The blonde glances over at his friend, pointing at the shin ramen, “That one. It’s yn’s favorite, they always make it for me when I visit.” 

Changmin purses his lips, grinning to himself as he places the packet into the basket he’s holding. Juyeon takes notice of the knowing smile on the black haired beauty’s face, and he nudges him, causing Changmin to chuckle. “Why are you smiling?”

“Cause your love for yn is showing.” Changmin responds, and Juyeon bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head at him. The blonde turns back towards the arrangement of items, grabbing a few of your favorite snacks and placing them into the basket. 

“I don’t even know what love is.” Juyeon mutters as he grabs one more pack of ramen and throws it into the basket. Changmin purses his lips, choosing not to respond as the two walk to the checkout. 

You haven’t been going to classes, nor have you been texting Changmin or Juyeon for the last few days. Juyeon remembered the time you got sick and didn’t text either of them a few months ago, so he realized you must be doing the same thing right now. That’s why he dragged Changmin to the convenience store to prepare a care package for you, knowing that you don’t take proper care of yourself when you have a cold.

“You sure you can’t come with me to yn’s? I think you’d make them feel better.” Changmin says, promptly changing the topic as they place everything onto the counter. Juyeon purses his lips a bit, wishing he could come and visit, but he already agreed to practice with the new recruits of the dance team. 

“I can’t back out of plans an hour before, so I’ll just pay for all the groceries.” Juyeon responds as taps his card on the reader, watching as the payment goes through and placing the card back into his wallet. They both grin at the cashier as they hand them their bags, before walking out of the convenience store.

“Text me when you get to yn’s, I’ll try to visit after practice.” Juyeon tells Changmin, and the younger nods his head. The blonde waves his hand at his friend, before turning and heading towards the university. 

Juyeon glances up towards the grey sky as he walks, finding that his thoughts are only flooded with you as he does so. 

He comes to wonder when his heart began to beat faster whenever he saw you.

“Yn! Let me in!” You don’t move to answer the door, continuing to sit by your living room window, staring out at the city below. Coughing slightly, you reach over and grab your cup of tea, taking a long sip once Changmin’s voice comes to a stop. 

It’s only when you hear your door knob jiggle that you turn your head with a frown, seeing your front door open fully to reveal your friend who has a frown on his face. You let out a sigh, and Changmin’s frown deepens as he slips off his shoes and closes the front door, walking towards you. 

“How’d you get in?” You ask quietly, only to let out an, ah, when Changmin holds up the spare key you gave him a few months back. He places the bag from the convenience store onto the coffee table, before settling down beside you. 

The two of you stay silent for a moment, with Changmin staring at you in concern, and you avoiding eye contact by staring out the window. You bite the inside of your cheek once you feel a tickle in your throat, trying your best not to cough.

“Why didn’t you tell me or Juyeon that you were sick? You did this last time and you got scolded. Now I’m gonna scold you again! You live alone, yn. You should be resting, not making your own food or cleaning.” Changmin says sternly, and you don’t reply with the fear that you may cough out those pale pink petals again.

“Yn.” Changmin states once you don’t answer, leaning a bit closer to look at your face. 

“Why are you giving me the silent treatment? You should be giving Juyeon the silent treatment since he didn’t come! Well, he actually paid for the groceries I got for you but-” The words die in Changmin’s throat when you release a cough, and a single petal flies out of your mouth and onto the floor. His eyes widen at the sight, before turning towards you and seeing the tears flooding your eyes.

“Yn…” You bite your bottom lip, before leaning over and resting your forehead onto Changmin’s shoulder. 

“What are you going to do?” Changmin asks, wrapping his arms around you and patting your back soothingly. He’s filled with worry as he stares down at the pink petal on the floor, knowing that there’s only two options to handle this disease.

“I don’t know.” You mutter quietly, tears trailing down your face. Changmin bites the inside of his cheek, pulling you closer and holding you. 

“I don’t know what hurts more,” You begin, squeezing your fists tightly at the thought that comes to mind. “The petals that I keep coughing up.” 

You cough again, fortunately no petals escape as you pull back from Changmin’s embrace to look at him. He reaches out and pats your head, and you harshly bite your bottom lip when the thought of those sparkly eyes comes to mind as you say,

“Or the fact that Juyeon doesn’t love me back.”

You walk around campus with your mask over your mouth and nose, feeling grateful that you haven’t coughed up any petals throughout any of your classes. Glancing up at the sky, you see the various shades of pink and blue, your heart feeling heavy at the beautiful sight. 

“Yn!” Your eyes widen when you hear that familiar voice, but you refuse to turn around, continuing to walk as if you never heard it. 

“Yn! Wait!” You speed up your pace, panicking when the sound of footsteps draws closer. You’re about to break out into a full on sprint when Juyeon runs around you, forcing you to halt your movements as you stare at him with wide eyes. 

“Didn’t you hear me calling for you? You haven’t been responding to my texts for the last week.” Juyeon says as his chest goes up and down, trying to catch his breath from having to run to you. You let out a small laugh, shaking your head as you attempt to pretend that you’re okay. “Sorry, I’ve been avoiding looking at my phone cause it strains my eyes.”

Juyeon nods his head, understanding what you mean as you just got over being sick. “Changmin told me that you had a fever and just slept the whole time when he came to see you a couple days ago, are you feeling better now?” 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you nod and flash Juyeon the brightest eye smile you can muster. He squints at you, before reaching his hand up and resting it on your forehead to check your temperature. You freeze, warmth flooding your face from the contact, only to pause when you feel your throat begin to tickle with that dreadful feeling.

“Your forehead isn’t hot, so I suppose you weren’t- Yn?” Juyeon’s eyes fill with concern at the sight of your eyes turning watery. He takes a step closer but you raise your hand up to stop him, feeling the petals begin to climb up your throat as you turn and run away from Juyeon without another word. Juyeon’s eyes widen, “Yn!” 

Feeling the tears fall past your eyes at the calls of your name, you sprint away, trying your best to hold back the flowers that threaten to escape, but to no avail. Finding it harder to breathe, you remove your mask as you run, releasing a few of the petals that were stuck in the cloth. Your chest burns, your heart hurts, everything is in pain as you run away from the one you love.

“Yn..” Juyeon mutters, stopping himself from chasing after you when he realizes you have no plans of stopping. He watches as your figure gets smaller, only to squint when he catches sight of something pink flowing with the wind from behind you. 

Juyeon’s heart stops in his chest when it floats in his direction, and he stretches his arm towards it, watching as the pale pink petal softly falls onto the palm of his hand. He knows this flower, and as he looks back up in the direction you ran in, he feels his heart break for the first time when he makes the connection of where the fragile petal came from.

Changmin watches from across the studio as Juyeon keeps making mistakes in the choreography, something the dancer rarely ever does. However, over the last few days, it’s been happening consistently. No matter how many times Changmin reteaches the choreo to Juyeon step by step, he still makes a mistake the next day.

“Juyeon, you keep making mistakes.” Changmin says as he pauses the music, turning to look at his best friend. The blonde simply breathes heavily, staring down at the floor while he tries to sort out his thoughts. Changmin frowns, stepping forward towards his friend, “Juyeon.”

“Yn ran away from me the other day.” Juyeon starts, a furrow to his brow as he remembers the look of fear in your eyes. He bites his bottom lip harshly, before looking up at Changmin, seeing the dread on his friend’s face, “A pink petal flew towards me from their direction.”

“Juyeon-”

“It had to have been one of the flowers that grow in the square, right?” Juyeon asks with tears filling his eyes, stepping towards Changmin as he squeezes his fists at his sides. The black haired beauty tries his best to hold back from crying as he simply shakes his head, no.

“They have hanahaki, Juyeon.” Changmin states, tears escaping his own eyes from finally confessing the truth that’s been haunting him for the last week. The two stay silent for a moment, letting the information sink in as Juyeon slowly slides down onto the floor.

“Is it me?” Juyeon asks in a soft voice as he looks up from the wooden floor, Changmin lets out a bittersweet smile at the question, looking away from the blonde as his own heart breaks within his chest.

“It is.” Changmin answers quietly, rubbing his chest in an attempt to ease the pain. Juyeon slowly stands up from the floor, eyes wide as he stares at his friend. Changmin turns to look at the blonde, eyebrows furrowing at the shocked expression on Juyeon’s face.

“What is it-”

“How long has it been since the last time yn coughed up flowers?” Changmin purses his lips, remembering how you mentioned you haven’t coughed anything since the day you ran into Juyeon. “I don’t know, a week?” 

Changmin pauses, suddenly realizing what Juyeon’s thinking when his eyes widen as he connects the dots. Hope floods his chest as he stares at his friend, feeling relieved that you’re going to be okay. Juyeon turns and looks out the window of the studio, seeing the rain fall from the sky, and he quickly walks over and grabs his sweatshirt and umbrella. 

“Where are you going? We just realized something huge!” Changmin shouts when he watches Juyeon walk towards the door. The blonde simply turns back towards his friend, giving him a small smile, 

“It’s raining, yn must’ve forgotten their umbrella.”

“I forgot my umbrella.” You mutter, staring up at the blue sky from the convenience store entrance. The raindrops fall hard onto the pavement, making you let out a sigh. You turn to glance back inside the convenience store, debating on buying one even though you have at least four back at your apartment. You look down at the bag in your hand, seeing the ramen and tea you bought in an attempt to soothe your throat. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you remember that your days are limited as you watch the raindrops fall from the sky. With that in mind, you step out of the protection you had from the convenience store, and let the rain hit you as you walk towards your apartment, convenience store bag in tow as you do so. 

As your clothes slowly become soaked, you can’t help but think of how you met Juyeon. The kind guy who gave you his umbrella on that rainy day. You let out a bittersweet smile, knowing that it was inevitable for you to fall for the man. 

You halt your movements, suddenly realizing the fact that you haven’t coughed up flowers in almost a week. Your eyes widen, heart beating rapidly against your chest as the bag of groceries you were holding falls to the ground. 

You scramble to grab your phone from your pocket, quickly unlocking your phone to dial Juyeon’s number as tears fill your eyes. You listen to it ring, quietly muttering to yourself for him to pick up the call, needing to know if this is real.

“Hello?” 

“Juyeon! Where-” 

“You didn’t bring an umbrella again?” You squint, wondering how he knows that as you look up from the ground, only for your mouth to fall open when you see him standing a few feet away from you, umbrella in hand. You take note of the rise and fall to his chest, seeing that he must’ve ran here from dance practice as the two of you stare at each other. 

You let out a wet laugh, tears falling from your eyes as you stare at Juyeon, nodding your head as you adjust the phone to your ear. “You know me, I always forget. That’s why you’re there to save me from the rain each time.” 

Juyeon smiles in response, tears spilling and flowing down his face. He reaches up in an attempt to wipe it away, laughing quietly as he stares at you, a look of remorse in his gaze. Feeling grateful that he was able to realize his feelings for you, but regretful that you had to experience so much pain before he did so.

“I’m sorry I didn’t save you sooner, I wasn’t sure what the weather was going to be.” Juyeon mutters, and you bite the inside of your cheek, understanding what he truly means. You give him a grin, before opening your arms and gesturing to your guys surroundings as the rain begins to fall softer from the sky.

“It’s okay, you came just in time.” You say, wiping away the mix of tears and rain from your face. Juyeon walks towards you, stopping when the umbrella is hovering over the two of you, blocking you from the rain. 

“I love you.” Juyeon confesses, and you bite the inside of your cheek, nodding your head as the tears fall from your eyes once again. He reaches out and softly wipes it away with his thumb, letting his warm hand remain on your cheek as he stares into your eyes. 

As the rain continues to fall from the sky on this sunny Spring day, a rainbow forms above you and Juyeon as you let out a smile, leaning into his touch when you say,

“I love you too, Juyeon.” 

trailing arbutus: if given the pale pink blossom, it means you are the only one they love. a promise that the love they have for you will not only be warm, but will last a lifetime.

[dreamiesdotcom]

[7:55p.m] You hold the camera up, showing a pair of scissors and pointing it back to Doyoung's direction. You smile and wave.

"Hi, this is Y/N, and today we have with us my handsome, loving, and tired boyfriend," your eyes sparkle fondly with a hint of mischief.

You pass the camera to him so he could keep on recording you.

"Tired of your shit," he grumbles to himself. (Because what else? Tired of loving you? Never. He'd never say that verbally though.)

"You said anything, babe?"

"You heard something?"

"The sound of salt."

He fakes a smile, "You do like your food salty."

You stare at him dead in the eye through the mirror. The both of you are currently in the bathroom, you facing the sink with your hands doing weird movements as if shaking away your nervousness.

It looked stupid, which makes sense because the whole deal was stupid anyway.

"Listen, I get that things are not the best right now but we could get through it without this—" his unoccupied hand does similarly weird waving movements, "We have options that don't include... torturing your hair!"

But there you were already, untying your hair, brushing it. You wet it slightly with the spray bottle, and grab the front right section of your hair, putting it in between the scissors.

Doyoung gives you and incredulous look, "Don't do it."

You give him a determined look in return, "I'm doing it."

"Don't do it," he warns, and your hands tremble where it's holding the scissors with a tight grip, your knuckles paling in comparison of the rest of your complexion.

"I'm doing it..."

"Don't do it—"

"I'm doing it—" a loud snip was heard, and you tearily look back at Doyoung, "I did it."

He pinches the bridge of his nose, "Goddamn it."

So he stands there, watching you cut your hair unsuccessfully. It gets way shorter than you intended before you get a decent, even-like hair.

"You know this turned out really short, and I'm practically bald," you twirl your hair on your fingers.

"Stop overreacting, it's still on your shoulders."

"Barely!" You pouted, "So I thought if I'm going bald anyway then I'll risk dyeing my hair pink."

"That's a bad idea—" He stares at you, who's already pulling hair products under the cabinet — unmistakably a hair bleaching set, and a box of pink hair dye. "You planned this."

There's hesitance in your eyes even as you mix the bleach, and your boyfriend watches you with a lovingly disappointed glare, constantly sighing in his annoyance. Picking up a few strands, dipping the brush in the bleach mixture, you hover it above your hair, pretty face wearing a resigned-to-my-fate smile.

A genuine tear slips from your eye, "I'm not backing out, I'm not a little bitch."

Doyoung facepalms, because is this really the person he wants to marry?

The camera in his hand switches every now and then, his arms growing weary of holding it up for so long. He watches you go silent as you cover your hair in hair bleach, and as you whine about its current ugly bronze color. Then, he was forced to watch you celebrate your light bleached hair, then cry-laugh at a few hair strands breaking when you accidentally pull on it while it was still wet after washing it out.

Both you and him repeated the process of breaking down and getting more and more disappointed by the seconds that pass — respectively — as you mix the pink hair dye.

("I don't think you should color it now after that breaking stuff," he worriedly looked at you. You glared at him, "I WANNA BE PINK! TODAY! NOT! TOMORROW!")

And now he's standing outside the bathroom, still confused as to why he'd just been pushed out of the bathroom, but then he hears the sound of a shower turning. Right, you're probably showering. He decides he'll go to the kitchen and make you both dinner first, setting the camera down on the kitchen counter and not bothering to stop recording.

An hour later, he hears you walking towards him, and with a soft call of 'Doyoungie~' he turns around from the stove. You stand just a few steps in front of him.

He blinks as you touch your hair, smile wide and sweet. The pink color brings out your fluffy side, at least right now with the happy aura you're displaying, and the cute outfit you don.

"Ta-da~!"

Fuck yeah, he wants to marry you.

With his head hung low, Doyoung walks towards you and slips his hands on yours, mumbling under his breath.

"You said something, babe?"

"I said you look pretty."

"The sound of salt— wait what?"

"I—I'm not repeating it, dumbass!"

You look at him with a grin, a blush on your face rivalling his, and you melt into a lovesick puddle of admiration because holy shit, your closet softie of a boyfriend is blushing and he's the same shade of your hair and—

I wonder if it's normal... to always feel like this... like my heart's gonna burst... because I love him so much.

[lastdr3am3r445]

💘Dying Your Hair with Eijirou Kirishima 💘

Hey guys!~ Sorry I haven't been posting, I've got a case of the sads, so only one post today, but it's something I've been wanting to write for a while. Today I just needed a soft fluffy comfort story. No naughtiness here, but maybe tomorrow 🤫

Genre: Fluff Wordcount: 999 (yes, really.) CW: Like a small mention of maybe being bullied in the past, but nothing actively described.

If you like to listen to music while you read, might I suggest this playlist: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6gt1cAfalNM Semi-related, does anyone else get the feeling that Kirishima listens to old 80's Top 40's like REO Speedwagon? Maybe I'll do a headcanon on that... Anyhow! Now to the story: You pick up the same damn box of hair dye for probably the fourth or fifth time, examine the instructions on the back, the sample colors on the side, and wonder if your hair will actually turn out like that before you heave another sigh and replace it back on the shelf.

What were you doing here?

Maybe you were having an identity crisis. Maybe you were worried that if you didn’t do something soon, you’d be stuck looking the way you do your entire life, that would just be your “Brand” as a “Hero”, and you just didn’t feel very heroic.

At that moment, about the worst possible thing found your ears.

“Hey! New kid!”

Great, you’re ‘the new kid’.

You squeezed your eyes shut and hoped that if you thought about it hard enough, you might become one with the display of boxes of dye and thus not be perceived by anyone you might have to see ever again.

“Hey!” A smiling voice let you know that your manifestation had failed.

“Oh God..” you heard, and you waited for it. The judgement, the teasing, the laughter at your expense that always seemed to follow you as “the new kid”.

“Are you dying your hair?”

“Yeah. What about it?” You clipped, and when you looked up, you saw red.

Not in that way, literally red. Red hair, red eyes, all framed by a relaxed red hoodie slung over his head.

“Well don’t use that brand, it washes out, like, instantly!” He flicked his hands with a toothy grin, “and that one..” he pointed to the box next to the one you had picked up, “that one is semi-permanent, and will rub off on ev-er-y-thing!”

He laughed brightly, like he was recalling a memory. He didn’t seem like he was putting you on, seemed… genuine. You decided to indulge him, “Oh.. well.. which one do you recommend?”

He brought a crooked finger to his chin, and red irises floated up, accessing his brain, “hmmm..”

You backed up a little when he stopped to start perusing the shelves, “based on that color, want demi-permanent… not too expensive… with good coverage… I’d go with this one!” He hands you a bottle, not a box. You look at him, a little confused.

“This one?”

“Yeeep! Typically you wanna stay away from box dyes.” He says through a deep stretch, which left his arms folded behind his head, “you might need to bleach your hair just a little, but I have that stuff at home.” He gave you another sharp toothed grin and a wink, “Hi, I’m Eijirou Kirishima!”

You introduced yourself and asked “How.. do you know about all this stuff?”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” He pulled the hood off his head to reveal dark shadowy roots, “did you think this was my natural hair color?”

“Stranger things have happened!” You said, a small smile quirking your lips.

“Yeah I suppose that’s true.” His face fell into a sheepish smile.

“So.. you’ll let me borrow your bleach and stuff?”

“I’ve got a better idea…”

***

You sat cross legged against Eijirou’s bed, a splotchy bleach-stained towel around your shoulders, still damp from your shower.

“You’re sure about this?”

“Apfolutely!” He muffled past the plastic brush pinched in his teeth, his arms a tangle of gloves, foils, bowls and product.

He dumped his armful across his desk and started sorting the pile, “You’re gonna look great!”

He didn’t even look at the directions as he mixed the bleach and developer into a viscous goo.

“Alright!” He cheered with a *fwoomp* as he leapt with his bowl onto the bed behind you. He positioned a box of foils beside him and asked, “Ya ready?”

You covered your face, and took a short breath, “As I’ll ever be…”

“Heheheheh~” he loosed a sinister laugh, took up his rat tail comb, and started sectioning and clipping your hair.

***

“Alrighty!” He chimed, snapping the vinyl gloves off his hands, “Check it out!” He handed you a wide hand mirror.

“I look like I’m waiting for the mothership…”

You weren’t wrong, tin foil jutted out from your head in every direction. At least you were protected from gamma waves, or whatever.

“Hahaha! This is the part where you trust the process..” He laughed as he padded over to the desk to mix up more product.

“Yeah.. Sure..” You guessed you kinda had to, at that point.

“Okay!” The mirror left your hand, replaced by the bowl of lightener, and your new friend plopped down in front of you, “Your turn!”

“What?! I- I never- I thought you said you’ve done this before?”

“Yeah, just because I can do it by myself, doesn’t mean I want to.” He rolled his eyes, “Don’t worry, I’ll walk you through everything.” He flipped the mirror up in front of his face so he could see the dark stained roots and you beyond them; “It’s a part of the fun anyway!”

“O-okay…” You hesitated, but you pulled on a clean pair of vinyl gloves and went to work.

***

He did as he promised, and walked you through every step. Turns out it wasn’t that hard, and it was pretty repetitive after a while. Section the hair, paint the darkened roots on the front and back, section again; it left you plenty of time to talk.

By the time you were done with his roots, your hair was done developing. You rinsed and rinsed and rinsed, and after many more reassurances from Eijirou to “trust the process” you did it all again with toner, then again with color. The two of you were up until the wee hours coloring your hair, watching movies and talking.

After all was said and done, and your skin itched from the constant in-and-out of the shower, you were super happy with your choice, and that you had made a friend. Nowadays the two of you keep an appointment, maybe even a date, to do each other's hair every 6 weeks.

[aestheticseungmean]

Purple - Seo Changbin

WC-925

Requested unofficially by @mrsunshine999

Warnings: Minor joke about liking someone for their body

Synopsis: You wanted to dye your hair purple just because and Changbin wanted to help.

Edited by @kpop-4-ever

Purple. You wanted to dye your hair purple. It was the first time you’d be dying your own hair, since you weren’t allowed to when you lived with your parents for various reasons. You didn’t know how many boxes you truly needed, but you grabbed four. If you didn’t need all four, at least you’d have extra to touch up. So, with the four boxes in hand and a mission to find the other various products you needed, you walked aisle to aisle to search. “Maybe I should’ve gotten a basket,” you huffed, dropping the brushes on the floor again.

Too stubborn to go back up and get one now that you've already started shopping, you picked them up and reached for the bleach. “Got ya!” You cheered, happily waddling up to the register with your supplies. “Did you find everything okay?” The lady asked. “I think so. We’ll find out if I have to come back.” She giggled, scanning the next item.

Your total was expensive, but cheaper than going to the salon. Happy that you finally got the items, you skipped back to your car with bags in hand. Along the way home, you sang along to your favourite songs and stopped to get some food. Today was your day, you can feel it.

Changbin sat on your shared, worn out couch, waiting for you to get home. “What’s all this?” He asked, standing up to grab some bags. “I’m dying my hair purple today.” Your voice was littered with excitement. “Can I help?” Changbin wanted to be part of the mission, knowing a thing or two about dying his own hair. “Of course, BinBin! I’M DYING MY HAIR!” Your boyfriend chucked at your cuteness and ruffled your hair, taking in the color one last time.

“Sit on the toilet with your back to me.” “Why?” You huffed as he pushed you down onto the toilet. “I’m a short person, I can’t reach the top of your head all the way,” he whined, making you laugh. “It’s not my fault you’re so short,” you muttered. “THE DISRESPECT!” “It’s cute though,” you cooed, making a kissy face at him through the little makeshift mirror you set up to watch the process. “Yeah, yeah.” Behind you, he smiled and proceeded to measure out the ingredients according to the package. It was soothing, the way the smell of Changbin would waft in your direction everytime he moved to pour something else in the bowl.

“This says two fluid ounces. How do I figure out two fluid ounces?” He struggled to measure the needed item until he realized that there was a cup that measured what he needed. “Oh, there is a cup.” You let out a snort, watching Changbin grumble. “You’d think they’d tell you this stuff ahead of time. Nice shirt by the way.” “Thank you. It’s one of the ones that doesn’t fit you anymore so you gave it to me.” Without warning, he applied a glob of bleach on a section of hair before spreading it out and covering it with foil. “You keep stealing my shirts, I won’t have any left to wear.” You hummed, smiling at the nice thought that would probably plague your mind for a while.

“I wouldn’t mind that. Besides, the more you work out, the tighter the shirt, and the more heavenly the view.” “Yah, I’m starting to think you only like me for my body.” A sharp gasp left your lips. “That’s just a plus. I like everything else about you too, Binnie~” Changbin smiled as he applied another glob of bleach to your hair. “I like everything about you too, baby. Even this wretched smell won’t deter me,” he teased. “Glad to know that not even ammonia can keep you away from me.”

------------------------------------

Hours passed as Changbin finished bleaching your hair while endorsing you in mindless chatter about his work and your work, what was going on in life and future plans. It was safe to say, you were almost sad when he finished bleaching because dying it purple would only take a quarter of the time. “Careful of the dye, Bin. It can and will stain.” “Don’t worry. I'm practically a pro,” he said, puffing out his chest theatrically. “Mkay, Mr.Hairstylist. Do your worst,” You teased, poking his sides playfully.

About halfway through the dyeing process, you hear a frustrated curse, making you turn around to find Changbin’s gloves broken while purple dye stained his whole hands and part of the other. He smiled sheepishly, washing his hands the best he could, putting on another pair of gloves and continuing on your hair. “Binnie. I don’t think professionals stain their hands to the point they start to look like Tinky Winky.” “Tinky Winky was the cutest of the Teletubbies and you can’t change my mind.” “Au contraire, Changbinnie. Po is the cutest with her little scooter.” “You offend me,” he scoffed, sighing dramatically before continuing the argument.

Finally, you washed out the dye and cleaned up the edges of your forehead and ears while Changbin struggled to even lighten the colour on his hands. “It’s not working,” he whined, scrubbing harder. You grabbed his hands and kissed his cheek. “You’ll scrub yourself raw if you continue. It’ll come off in due time. In the meantime, thank you so much for doing my hair.” Changbin pulled you into a hug, resting his forehead against yours. “Hey, do you think you can do my hair tomorrow?” “You’re insufferable.” “So is that a yes?” “Yes, Binnie.”

[utt-er-nons-ense]

How to change your hair color at home by yourself, by a hairstylist who wants you to stop destroying your hair.

Source: I'm a hairstylist AND an at home impulse hair dye enthusiast. As a side note it's really called "color" and not dye, but I'll use dye here for clarity.

This is really long and detailed!

Step one, go to Sally's. Find the "ion color brilliance" brand because it smells the best and is impossibly easy to use.

Look at the numbers on the labels, which show the tone of the dye. 1 is black. 8 is blonde. 13 is, theoretically, white. Most hair dye comes in a range from 1 to 8. There are usually letters next to the numbers for the shade: N for neutral, W for warm reddish shades, A for ash, which is cool blueish shades. V is for violet - be careful with these, they're deceptively super purple. Sometimes they use other silly letters like RB for red brown. If you look closely on the box it should say the color.

Now find your own hair tone. Remember, 1 is black, 8 is blonde. 4 is medium brown. Tone is only on the scale from black to white, so you're basically finding the lightness or darkness of your hair. Once you have that number, compare it to the number on the dye you want. If you're going darker, use a demi (demi-permament). If you're going lighter, use a permanent.

PLEASE BE AWARE that the little swatches of hair that show the color are dyed on WHITE or very very light blonde hair. Keep this in mind; it'll almost certainly look way darker on your hair.

If your hair is longer than shoulder length, get 2 boxes. You can mix colors of the same color line (keep demis with demis, permanent with permanent). If it's shorter than shoulder length get 1 box.

If you already have dye on your hair, a dye won't make it lighter. You would have to bleach it. Do NOT!!!!!! do this at home. I know it's tempting. I've seen some pretty awfully burned scalps, and it can even make you go blind. Not to mention, your hair will fall out in clumps if you leave it on a tiny bit too long.

Now find the ion color brilliance developers. They're in purple and white bottles. Find the tiny ones (4 fl oz).

If you're going WAY lighter get 40 volume (I really don't recommend this). If you're going a little lighter, get 30. If you're going a little darker, use 20. If you're going to black, get 10.

If you don't have a plastic bowl at home that you don't mind staining, get a little color bowl and a brush. The bowl will have a little handle on it and the brush will look like a big paint brush.

Now check out! You have your box of dye, your developer, and a bowl and brush.

When you're ready to color, wait about 24 hours from your last shampoo. Try not to put a ton of oils or products in your hair after you shampoo it. This will help the dye get under the cuticle of the hair, which is where you want it.

Now we are going to just chuck those directions right in the trash because they're more complicated than they have to be. Here's how I do it (it's never let me down in over a decade of dying my hair):

Mix the dye and developer in a 1:1 ratio. The tubes are 2oz, so one tube goes with half the bottle, 2 tubes goes with the whole bottle. It doesn't have to be exact. You can just dump everything in the bowl and mix it with the brush. Try not to get it on the counter/table; it's white or tan now but it'll oxidize to the color of the dye within minutes. It's hard to get out too.

Put some Vaseline, chapstick, cocoa butter, or actual "barrier cream" on your forehead and ears if you care about getting stains. I don't do this and the stains are only there for 2 showers. I also don't use gloves for the same reason but you can.

With a bowl of mixed dye and 24 hour hair, get naked or into a shirt you don't mind getting dirty. Sit down in your bath tub. "But but I can be neat!" No you can't. Get in the tub. I promise you will splatter it at least a little.

Now use the brush to paint the dye into your part, and your hairline. Then get the hair right above and behind your ear.

If you already have dye in your hair, and it's a little grown out, keep in mind that your roots are "virgin" hair and will take the color way brighter. I usually just ignore that and it evens out after a few showers, but you can offset the "fire roots" by putting the dye on your roots only for 5 minutes. Just massage it into your scalp without getting it on the ends and wait 5 minutes.

Now for the rest of it: grab globs of the dye with your hands and start working it into your hair. You can do this however you want, just use all of the color and make sure every piece of hair is thoroughly saturated. I usually squish it into the mid-shaft to the ends of my hair, then I work the rest of it in just like shampoo. Keep going until all of your hair is covered. Use what's left to really get your hairline again.

Wash your hands right away, and as soon as they're dry set a timer. 40 minutes is the max, but if you want a more subtle result you can do 30. I do 40 though. Twist any hanging hair into a bun and use the dye to "stick" it in place. If it's long or won't stay, use a black scrunchie or one of those claw clips.

When the timer goes off, rinse for at least 5 minutes under pretty warm to hot water. As hot as you can comfortably use. When I say at least five minutes I mean it - it takes a while to get it all out. Then shampoo twice, condition, rinse in COLD water, finish your shower, and enjoy!

A few last notes, this is NOT the "proper" way to do it. This is a pretty-good way to do it that you can do on a whim in your bathroom with no help and about $30. This is how I do it myself, and how all the other hairstylists I know do it. Also, this works on all hair types and most colors. If your hair is super light, the change will be drastic, so stay closer to your natural color if you don't want that. If your hair is jet black, the change will be more subtle - permanent color can take you from a 1 (black) to about a 5. An 8 is blonde, so you can do a lot with a level 5.

Please feel free to ask any questions, and happy therapy-dyeing!

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

Nev, Max, Help!-Nate Jacobs Oneshot

Requested: Yes

Warnings: aggressiveness and rudeness from Nate and a brief panic attack scene

A/N: The reader is gender neutral since the requester did not specify what they wanted and I did not want to disrespect the storyline from the show. Also, it’s a long one. 

  For once, Amy Winehouse’s low, melancholy voice did nothing to soothe my nerves as I typed what I was looking for in the designated box. “Love is a Losing Game” was definitely not the best song for the mood but I loved her voice so much; it was like a really messed up security blanket for me. My thumbs shook as I kept typing and quickly deleting my words. 

  Someone to have fun with.

  No, that’ll bring every single creep to my profile.

  Someone to watch Netflix with.

  Ew, no, they won’t want to go anywhere or do anything. 

  Someone to discuss Maya Angelou with...

  This could go one of two ways: attract a sensitive, nice person or the ultimate softboi who was really just an f-boy in a sensible cardigan.

    Okay, Y/N, just add to it.

   ...and have adventures, great conversations, and watch the best movies.

   That seemed broad enough and, potentially, weeded out all the weirdos. Patti Stanger would approve of this. I took such a deep breath that I could feel the oxygen in my feet as I pressed the green check mark. An adorable buffering sign appeared before being quickly replaced by a CONGRATULATIONS, Y/N/N, ON COMPLETING YOUR PROFILE. 

   The air came out of me slowly, like a balloon, and I tried to make myself relax as I swiped through different matches. One person was too short, the other too tall, another had way too many pictures with reptiles in his profile, and one’s bio simply read: DM and you’ll find out. 

  Serial killer much?

  “That’s part of your problem, Y/N,” Jules had chastised me a few day prior.

 “What do you mean by ‘part’?” I’d replied.

 “Well, for one, you barely leave the house anymore unless I drag you out,” Jules argued.

  “I’m busy,” I’d defended. 

  “Rewatching Breaking Bad for the eighth time does not count as being busy. Plus, you’re so picky.”

  “Am not!” 

  “You said you’d only do DiCaprio in his Great Gatsby days,” Rue had added.

  “Did you see him in that suit?” 

  Jules then shrugged. “All I’m saying is if you aren’t careful, you will end up all alone.”

  “That’s not true, Y/N might get cats.” 

  That conversation had haunted me since and had driven me to making a dating profile after the required Saturday night family dinner. While my parents and brother were downstairs watching a movie, I was holed up in my room, cringing and regretting accepting any chat requests. 

   Half an hour on the app caused the images of various male genitalia to be burned into my mind. I would need my brain soaked in holy water for it to be erased. I huffed and kept scrolling, vainly hoping and wishing for a decent guy to pop up on my radar.

  Maybe Jules and Rue were wrong. Maybe I had all the right in the world to be picky, I thought harshly to myself. 

  I dropped my phone on my nightstand and flopped against my pillows as Me and Mr. Jones began playing. I sighed and felt myself being lulled into the comforting abyss Amy created. 

   Ding!

   I jumped out and glared at the source of the noise. Another chat request, another picture to ruin my young brain? 

  “Be positive, Y/N, this might be good,” I stated as I grabbed the phone. 

  Tyler wants to chat!

   I frowned and opened up the app, only to be met with the most sculpted six-pack I had ever seen. My heart began banging against my chest and my thumbs fumbled for a moment to answer the chat request. 

  Whoosh. 

  My stomach dropped as I stared at my first chat to Tyler: Shg.ismtle

  I’m. Going. To. Die. Alone.

  I quickly typed: Please ignore that, I’m so sorry!

  Seconds later, my phone dinged.

  Tyler: Really? I thought you were trying to send me a secret code and I liked that we were that cool already.

  This was not real, this could not be happening. Tyler had to be a bot, that was why he didn’t show his face in his profile. Bots were supposed to have a hard time recognizing and creating faces, right? 

   But, on the off chance Tyler was real, it would have been rude to leave the conversation so abruptly? 

   Y/N: Who knows? Maybe it was a secret code and I’m just testing you.

   Tyler: Ok, let me guess what it means.

   Tyler: Hi? 

   Y/N: Haha, you really thought I’d use such a simple code as a first message?

   Tyler: It’s my bad for underestimating u. I should have known u were smarter since you read Maya Angelou.

  Y/N: U a fan? 

  Tyler: “You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.” 

  He knows Angelou? He could have Googled a quote though. Still, it’s a good quote to use if he had Googled it.

   Y/N: Nice, but, doesn’t get u out of the guessing game.

   As Tyler helplessly guessed wrong for several minutes, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I used to think online dating was a last resort or a breeding ground for predators. But, maybe there were decent people looking for something (or someone) meaningful after all. 

  Tyler: I give up, you’re really good. 

  Y/N: Thx. But, I can tell you what I meant to say. 

  Tyler: The suspense is srsly kiilling me. 

  Y/N: I meant 2 say hey.

  Tyler: I guessed that!

   Y/N: No, u guessed ‘hi’, there’s a difference.

  Tyler: C’mon, barely.

   For the rest of the night, Tyler and I chatted. He told me that he plays baseball at a school across town and he doesn’t like anyone around there. He liked John Mulaney stand-up, lemon bars, going to the gym, hanging out with his friends, and reading good books. He was an only child and his parents tended to spoil him. I told him about my friends and how I liked being on the swim team at my school as well as the different YouTubers and books I enjoyed. When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed of talking to him. 

   On Monday, Jules and Rue were hanging out outside the school as other people either headed to class or relaxed on the lawn. I could not stop my feet from bouncing as I walked up to them.

   “...and that is why Sailor Mercury is the most underrated character of the whole show,” Jules affrimed. 

   Rue seemed halfway interested as her head nodded slowly underneath the hood of her burgundy hoodie. “Cool, all I asked was who’s your favorite but, cool.” 

   Jules rolled her eyes playfully and straightened up when she saw me. “Hey, Y/N, nice shirt.” 

  “Thanks.” I wore a sky blue tie dye shirt with ripped jeans and white Converse.

  Rue leaned forward and squinted at me. “You’re not wearing black, something’s wrong.” 

  “Nothing’s wrong, she’s obviously been influenced by me!” Jules teased as she wrapped a slim arm around my shoulders.

  “Yeah, you can only hang out with this literal rainbow human so long before she starts influencing your outfit choices.”

  We started heading inside, which was really just Jules and me dragging Rue into the building.

   “But I don’t wanna be here. It’s so stupid that I have to wait six more months before I can legally decide where I spend my time,” Rue muttered.

  “It’s fine, you have us!” Jules insisted.

   “Yup!” I agreed.

  “Hey, Y/N, Rue, Jules!” Cassie greeted as she sidled up next to me. 

  We all greeted her.

  “Have a good weekend?” Rue asked. 

  “Yeah, there was this great party that Nick Davis threw. I swear, everyone there was on acid.” Cassie stopped herself and bit her bottom lip. “Sorry---” 

   Rue shook her head. “It’s fine.”

  “How were yours?” Cassie asked as we continued to our lockers. 

  “Fine,” Jules said.

  Rue shrugged in response.

  I opened my mouth to reply when my phone beeped and I wrestled it out of my pocket. 

  Tyler: Is it 2 late 4 a good morning text? 

  I smiled. 

  “You’re so cheesy,” I muttered under my breath. 

  “Who’s that?” Cassie asked, peeking over my shoulder.

   I jumped and cradled my phone to my chest like it was my child. “No one.” 

   Jules pulled open her locker and cocked a bleached eyebrow. “‘No one’ does not cause huge smiles like that!” She jabbed a sparkly-manicured finger at me. 

  “Yeah, show us,” Rue said. “We are your friends.” 

  “It’s nothing,” I insisted as I weaved around them. 

  I pushed myself against my locker and managed to open it with my free hand. Rue was on one side of me and Cassie was on the other. 

  “Is it a boy?” Cassie sang.

  “Or a girl?” Rue questioned.

  “It’s none of your business,” I gritted out as I grabbed my necessary books. 

  As I shuffled the books in my arms, Jules came from behind and slipped my phone away from me. I gasped, whirled around, and watched as Rue tried to look at the phone while Cassie playfully blocked me.

  “Guys, this is not cool! This is such a serious invasion of privacy,” I argued as I tried to move around Cassie.

  “We’re besties, there’s no such thing as privacy!” Jules retorted. 

  “Wow, Y/N, these are so----” Jules cut Rue off.

  “Adorable!” Jules squealed and turned to face me.

  Cassie took the opportunity to glance at my phone and she smiled. “Aw, this Tyler guy sounds so sweet.” 

  I snatched my phone from Jules. “Well, now you know. Can we please go to class now?” 

  As the other girls grabbed their things from their lockers, I got out my phone to reply to Tyler.

  Y/N: It’s never too late...until noon technically.

   Somehow, I started wandering away from the girls until I ran into someone. I tried to jump away, but they grabbed me by the forearms.

  “I am so sorry, I should have looked where I was going---” I stopped speaking when I recognized Nate’s direct gaze on me. I was pretty tall but I always felt like he could throw me into the lockers if he wanted to.

  “Watch it, Y/N,” he muttered. 

  “Nate, let go of them,” Maddy chided, her hand resting against one of his arms. 

  She seemed to have the magic touch because he relaxed and I joined my friends. As the couple continued down the hallway, I couldn’t help but admire them. In a very messed up way, they worked. Kat had told me only a little about what Nate would do whenever Maddy upset him and I felt so bad for her, angry at him, and then conflicted. Nate just had to have that stereotypical amazing all-American look.

  “You okay, Y/N?” Cassie asked.

  “Yeah, is it weird that I can still feel his eyes on me even when he’s not looking?” I asked. 

  “No, his need for dominance permeates everyone’s sense of autonomy,” Rue assured.

  “Nice,” Jules said. 

  “And scary accurate,” Cassie added. 

  Jule looped her arm with mine and steered us in the direction of our first classes. “Anyway, if he tries anything, I’m sure Tyler would gladly kick his butt for you.” 

   Throughout the day, Tyler and I chatted and I even had to get creative with responding. In English, I kept my head down during quiet reading time and made sure my phone was positioned just right in my lap. During geometry, I told Mrs. Packer that I was having some digestive issues and spent most of the class outside the bathroom, texting Tyler. At lunch, I could barely focus on my friends’ conversation.

   “Hello, Earth to Y/N?” Lexi waved her hand in front of my face and I blinked.

   “Sorry, I was----”

   “Texting her boooyfriiiend,” Jules sang.

   “He’s not my boyfriend, we’re just talking.” I started poking at my sandwich. “What did I miss?” 

  “Oh, nothing, just the fact that I nearly blew up the school during chem,” Cassie said. 

  “Magnesium chloride isn’t an explosive,” Lexi argued. 

  “Well, the tube overflowed and everyone was freaking out,” Cassie argued.

  “Yeah, because magnesium chloride can have bad side effects,” Lexi continued.

   “I wonder what would happen if the school exploded and we weren’t all here? Would they have to give us our diplomas?” I thought outloud.

  “Ooh, and I could go to fashion school early!” Jules cheered. 

  “I’d be happy not coming here anymore,” Rue admitted. 

  It was quiet for a moment as we all ate but that quiet was broken when Maddy yelled.

  “WHO ARE YOU TEXTING?”

  I couldn’t help myself but look. Maddy was standing behind Nate, who was sitting with his teammates at the center table. Bebe and Kat flanked Maddy a little behind. Everyone stared at them. Nate’s jaw tightened. 

  “Maddy, calm down,” his relaxed, controlled voice nearly echoed in the silent cafeteria. 

  “DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN! YOU’VE BEEN ON YOUR PHONE ALL DAY!” she snapped. 

  “Maddy---” 

  “ARE YOU TEXTING OTHER GIRLS?” Maddy shouted.

  “Can we talk about this somewhere else?” Nate asked. 

  Maddy sighed. “Are you gonna let me see your phone?”

  “Maddy, we need to talk.” 

  “Don’t talk to me again.” 

  Before Nate could respond, Maddy dumped the contents of her lunch tray over his head and threw the tray aside. Kat and Bebe followed her as she strutted out of the cafeteria amid the shocked gasps. 

   “I’m gonna go check on her,” Cassie whispered.

  We all nodded and she quietly exited the room. As I stared at Nate, the supposed king of the school, drenched in soggy salad and fat-free milk, I wondered why he could never stay broken up with Maddy. Their relationship was not just toxic, it was volatile. Their breakups were always public and outrageous, but they always ended up back together. No one questioned it either. I never understood why people could continue to choose relationship they knew was bad over pursuing something new. I told Tyler as much that night. 

   Y/N: It’s like those dogs that get killed by electric fences because they keep walking into them.

  Tyler: U have a good point, but, that couple’s relationship is more complicated than u think. 

  Y/N: Probably, but, it doesn’t look that way. They hurt each other a lot.

  Tyler: How do u know? 

   Y/N: Bc I’ve seen it. I don’t mean 2 b judgy, but, I could never be in a relationship like that. 

  Tyler: Well, I don’t think anyone would b if they knew it would b bad. 

  Y/N: Good point. But, why would they get back together so much? 

  Tyler: Idk them, but, it could b bc it’s familiar and it’s what they know.

  Y/N: Still, it’s messed up.

 Tyler: Yeah, but I don’t wanna talk abt them anymore.

 Y/N: K, what do u wanna talk abt? 

  A few seconds later, Tyler sent me a picture so graphically beautiful that I was convinced I passed out.

 The next day, I showed Rue and Jules the picture during break time.

 “Holy crap!” Jules took my phone and leaned into it for closer inspection. 

 “Tyler is packing,” Rue agreed. 

  Jules slid my phone back to me. “You haven’t replied to him?”    “No, and he hasn’t talked to me at all today.”

  “He’s probably expecting a reply that’s similar to what he sent,” Rue said.

  My face warmed up. “I can’t send him nudes,” I hissed.

  “Why not? It’s like the greeting cards of our generation,” Jules stated.

  “Really? You’d send your grandparents a greeting card of your naked body?” I replied sarcastically.

  “Relax, if you’re uncomfortable, we can help you,” Jules assured.

  “We can?” Rue asked.

  “We can.” Jules gave her a look and Rue relaxed. 

  “It’s still weird, but, I guess you guys can come over after school.”

  “Sweet! Your mom still bakes cookies for you after school, right?” Jules asked.

  I nodded.

  “She might stop once she learns her darling favorite older child is sending nudes,” Rue snorted as she spoke.

  I recoiled in my seat, taking a second to bask in the sun’s warmth. “Don’t remind me.” 

  After swim practice, once my teammates left the locker room, I eyed my naked form in the mirror. I had nothing to be ashamed of, really, thanks to all the swimming, but, I just felt weird being naked in front of people. There was something so vulnerable about it, like, being on display in a museum or lying on a cold surgery table. But, online dating was supposed to get me out of my comfort zone and I’d found someone who’d made me feel comfortable enough to do it. With this resolve, I changed into a hoodie and some sweatpants and left the school. It was dusk and I typically walked home after practice since it wasn’t far. Plus, I’d told Jules and Rue to just go to my house after school. 

  The late breeze rippled past me and I dug my hands into my pants’ pockets as I started walking towards the parking lot. There was barely anyone around, except stoners hotboxing their cars, some couples making out, and dance team members and football players getting out of practice.

  I kept my head down as I maneuvered around the few cars and people around. It felt like someone could spot what I was about to do once I got home and it was nervewracking. All I had to do was get home, let Jules make me look even better, take these pictures, and never thinking of it again.

   “Something on your mind, Y/N?” Nate called.

   I froze and snapped my head up to look at him. He was leaning against his truck, looking like a model for Ford in only a tshirt and jeans. Ford should hire him. 

   “No, not really,” I said. 

   I started to side step the truck, eyeing the sidewalk that was only a few yards away as though it was a lifeline. 

  “Get in,” Nate ordered.

  I paused and looked at him. “Excuse me?” 

  “I see you walking home all the time, let me do you a favor, one athlete to another.” Nate was about halfway in the driver’s seat of the car and all I could do was stare.

  “We’ve...never really talked before,” I stated. 

  “We can talk during the drive.” 

   I stepped back and my eyes flittered around, like the best decision would hit me in the face. Then, I saw Maddy across the lot. She was standing with a couple of dance team girls, including Cassie. She stared me down as though daring me to do it. I glanced from her to Nate, who started the engine loudly. 

   I quickly climbed into the passenger’s seat and stared into Maddy’s reflection in the rearview mirror as he pulled out of the parking lot. 

  “How do you know where I live?” I asked.

  “You forgot that I gave you a ride before?” Nate asked.

  “When?” 

  “After Cassie’s sweet sixteen. You blacked out, your friends were panicking, and I offered to take you home. For some reason, you remembered your address,” Nate recalled.

  “Oh, thanks?” 

  “Sure.” 

  We pulled up to my house a few minutes later, Lil Wayne bragging about his conquests filling the quiet. I hopped out of the truck and grabbed my bag. 

  “Thanks for the ride, this one, I mean, I owe you,” I said.

  “Yeah, see you around, Y/N.” 

  I closed the door and headed inside.

  “I’m home!” I called.

  My mom poked her head out from the kitchen. “Y/N, how was school and practice?” 

  “Fine.” 

  “Was that Nate Jacobs outside?” 

  I hesitated. 

  How did she know what Nate’s truck looked like?  “Yeah, he gave me a ride today.” 

  “Aw, isn’t that sweet? Rue and Jules are waiting for you in your room. They took the cookies with them.”  

  I nodded and went to my room. As soon as I walked in, they bombarded me with questions.

  “Why did Nate give you a ride?” Rue asked.

  “What did you guys talk about?” Jules inquired. 

  “Don’t you hate him?” 

  “He’s kind of a dick, but, unfortunately, super good looking.”

  “Did Maddy see?” 

  “Do you think she’s gonna kill you?” 

  “Guys, I don’t know but I do know that if you do not take amazing pictures of me with no clothes on soon, I will delete my entire profile,” I interrupted. 

  They both nodded. 

  “But, we will ask for details later,” Jules insisted.

  “Okay, but, please give me a cookie, I’ll need it to get through this.” 

  Rue extended the plate towards me and I bit into the melty goodness as Jules began doing my makeup. It was simple, only bringing out my best features. I made them both turn around as I undressed. Once I had, Jules encouraged me.

  “You look amazing, I would be shocked if he didn’t jizz in his pants,” Jules said.

  “Lower your voice, Y/B/N can only play Five Nights at Freddy’s so loud,” I hissed.

  Jules held her hands up and Rue direct me to lay on the bed, my phone held up in front of her.

  “Okay, look sexy,” Rue said.

  I tried to smolder, but, by their expressions, I did not achieve it.

  “No, like, pout your lips, like, you just heard that TheOdd1sOut is not uploading for a month,” Jules directed.

  “And give the camera bedroom eyes, you know, as though it’s Tyler.”

  “Okay.”    After a few pictures, I slowly got the hang of it and even started posing a little naturally.

  “Oh my gosh, Tyra is shook!” Jules cheered. 

 “Yeah, these are pretty good if I do say so myself.” Rue handed me my phone and I flipped through the pictures. 

  She was a talented photogrpaher and I joked that maybe she should go professional.

  “Yeah, I’m sure I’d have a nice clientele.” 

  I laughed as I changed back into my hoodie and sweatpants. “Okay, help me pick one to send.” 

  Jules took my phone and she and Rue began scrolling.

  “No, the lighting’s off in this one,” Jules muttered.

  “No, it’s never off in any of these,” Rue argued. 

  “I’m not shading your talent, I’m just trying to find the best thing for Y/N to send Tyler.” 

  After a little more bickering, we all agreed on the picture and I sent it to Tyler.

  “Should I follow it up with something?” I asked.

  “Maybe say ‘Wrong person’? Guys want what other guys want,” Jules suggested.

  “Or say ‘Sorry for the late reply’,” Rue added.

  “I’ll go with Rue’s, sorry, Jules.” 

  Jules shrugged. 

  I sent everything off and my friends and I watched as Tyler typed a response.

  Tyler: It was worth the wait ;).

  We squealed so loud that my mom yelled for us to keep it down. We apologized as we descended into a fit of giggles. Through it all, I could not help but feel so bouncy and light all over. Was I...falling for this total stranger? 

  “What do you think he looks like?” Jules asked during lunch later that week.

  I shrugged. “It’s different every day, if that makes sense.” 

  “I guess that’s the nice thing about interacting with someone who doesn’t show their face,” Jules thought outloud. 

  “How do you see him now?” Lexi asked. 

  I sighed. “Right now, I think he’s tall, six feet at least. He’s got a mix of blonde and brown hair like a surfer because it’s lightened from all the time he’s spent in the sun. He has green eyes, freckles, and he dresses well.” 

  “Sounds amazing,” Jules said as she rest her chin in her hand. 

  Rue nodded slowly. “You’re not nervous or anything?” 

  “No, this is so cheesy, but, I feel like I know him, you know? He’s so easy to talk to and has so much to say.”

  “Y/N’s blushing,” Jules teased. “Do you love him?” 

  “I really, really, really, like him.” 

  “Do you think you’ll meet soon?” Lexi asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, neither of us has brought it up.”

  “Well, it just matters that you’re comfortable, okay?” Rue said.

  “Okay.” 

  If I was honest, I did not know if I wanted to meet Tyler. I knew that I liked him more than I liked anyone before, but, there was something strange about breaking this wall the internet provided us. It was freer to talk on the internet than it was in person. What if I said something stupid in front of him? What if he thought that I looked different in person? What if he looked different in person? 

  I managed to keep these thoughts at bay for the rest of the day until I got home. Post-dinner had been officially declared Talk to Tyler Time. None of my family knew what I was doing besides blasting Amy Winehouse in my room for about an hour. My laugh nearly overpowered her high note in “Best Friends, Right?”. I had to blink away my happy tears as I replied to him. 

  Y/N: That did not happen!  Tyler: Yes it did! Do u want 2 c the scar????

 Y/N: No, I think I’m good.

 I wiped away my tears and settled under the covers. I wondered if his friends would agree that Tyler gets into some weird situations as well. Just as I started typing, Tyler beat me.

 Tyler: I want 2 meet u.

 The speed that I launched my phone away from me almost shocked me more than the text.

  Almost.

  My heartbeat thrummed in my ears. This was it, I knew I couldn’t avoid him much longer, but, I felt like I couldn’t move. All I could do was stare at my phone like it was the most offensive object in the world. Slowly, I regained mobility and grabbed my phone. I took a deep breath.

  “Take a chance, Y/L/N,” I whispered.

  Y/N: When and where?

    “You’re meeting him tonight?” Jules squealed the next day.

  I hushed her as people in the hallway paused to look at us. “Not so loud.”   “But this is so exciting. Please let me help you decide what to wear,” Jules pleaded with a pout. 

  “Sure,” I said. 

  Jules hugged me. “This is going to be so fun. I won’t go crazy with glitter since this is the first time you’re meeting this guy.” 

 “Thanks?” 

 “Do your parents know?” Rue asked.

 “No,” I replied as I slowly pulled away from Jules. “They’re coming Senior Night tonight, though. and I’m going to meet him at Mercy Park an hour before it ends.” 

 “Are you sure you even want to do this? I know that Jules and I tease you about your love life, but, this is risky,” Rue said. 

 “You weren’t saying that when you were helping me with those pictures the other day,” I shot back.

  “That was different. You’re...you’re actually meeting him now and he could be a psychopath or a sociopath or, just, a creepy old guy who likes to look at teenagers!” Rue insisted.

  “Rue, relax, everything’s going to be fine.”

  “You don’t know that!” She turned on her heel and hurried into the bathroom with Jules and I on her tail. 

  When we entered, Rue was leaning against the wall, panting and staring up at the ceiling. Jules and I approached her slowly as the girls who were in the bathroom quickly filed out. 

  “Rue, slow down your breathing,” I said slowly.

  “I...I can’t. You-you could get hurt or something and-and I would know about it an-and I-I couldn’t live with that!” Tears burst from her eyes as Rue began pacing and Jules and I were close but gave her room. 

  “Rue, Y/N is going to be okay, we both know what time she’ll be at the park. If anything happens, we’ll know the area she could be in,” Jules assured her.

  Rue shook her head and stopped in her tracks. Then, she looked between us helplessly before bowing her head and sobbing. Jules and I carefully hugged her and let her cry.

  “I’m sorry that I’m scared and I care about you and I don’t want you to get hurt,” Rue mumbled into my shirt.

  “It’s okay, I appreciate it. I really want to meet Tyler, though, and, I promise I will let you know if something happens, okay?” 

  Rue nodded and sniffled.

   It took Jules about an hour to make me look amazing. I had no idea my hair could be so fluffy and put together until she was done with it. She used eyeliner to make eyes look bigger and rounder and added sparkly lip gloss to make my lips look plumper. After she contoured and highlighted the best places she deemed that her work was done. My outfit, a fitted forest green long-sleeve shirt and fitted black pants with Jadons, was also approved by her.

  “Tell me everything later!” she insisted.

  Rue couldn’t join us since she had “prior commitments” but I texted her that I would let her know when I head to the park and when I leave. My nerves didn’t let me focus on the soccer game my parents insisted I joined them and my brother at. I couldn’t care less that the forward on one team got a yellow card or that the goalie on the other team made illegal blocks. I was practically buzzing with excitement and fear so much that I had to give my pretzel to Y/B/N. Finally, the third quarter arrived and I told my parents that I would meet them at home since I’d promised Lexi that I would help her with some homework. 

  Lexi wouldn’t mind being used for a lie this one time; it was an emergency.

  I tried to practice some calming deep breaths as I walked over to the park. The dark night sky provided a little bit of comfort to my walk. I wondered how different Tyler would look from the picture in my mind. I wondered if he thought I would look any different. Maybe (hopefully) it wouldn’t matter to either of us.

  Finally, I reached the park. It was empty, save for the oak trees scattered throughout the lush green scenery that seemed mysterious under the mooonlight. A few benches and wooden tables were around as well, but, Tyler and I had agreed to meet at the fountain which was further in the park. The breathing exercises had to have helped because I felt much more relaxed and I hoped that everything would go all right. 

   When I got to the fountain, there was a tall person facing it. All I could make out were dark clothes and broad shoulders. I took another deep breath and kept walking.

  “This is a nice spot, you have good taste,” I commented. 

  “I could say the same for you.” I stopped in my tracks as Nate slowly turned to face me. His face was unreadable but his eyes stayed on me. 

  “What? Wh-where’s Tyler?” I asked, my voice already hoarse. 

  Nate glanced down at his shoes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know how else to talk to you.” 

  I shook my head. “No.” My vision got blurry but I could tell that Nate was looking up at me now. 

  “Just let me explain,” he requested softly. 

  He took a step towards me and I took two steps back .

 “I don’t wanna hear it. This....this is some sick joke to you or something?” 

 “No, never, Y/N, just listen to me.” 

 “I don’t want to!” The tears rolled down my cheeks and I swiped at them so hard that I thought I scratched myself. At least I could feel something because my heart felt numb. “You catfished me!” 

  “I just wanted to talk to you, I really do like you, Y/N. Tyler and I are the same, just different names,” Nate insisted, coming closer.

  For some reason, I didn’t move. I didn’t know if it was from emotional exhaustion or stress, but, I let him approach me. I kept shaking my head. 

  “No,” I hiccuped. 

  “I wanted to meet you tonight because I was tired of lying. I want to figure this, us, out,” Nate said.

  I sniffed. “Us?” 

  At that moment, I could actually see his face and Nate seemed so hopeful. There was a slight smile on his lips and his eyes seemed light for once. Maybe he wanted there to be an “us”. Maybe, despite all logic, he wanted to talk to me seriously and could not do it offline because of his reputation. Maybe, he was over the on-again-off-again situation with Maddy. Maybe, this was my chance, our chance.

  I wiped my face again, mentally cringing at how upset Jules would be for my ruining her masterpiece. 

  “Yeah, us.” Nate stepped closer to me, gently wrapped his arms around my waist, and pulled me into his chest.

  Gradually, my muscles relaxed and I relished in the feeling of his strong upper body and his warmth. Then, I began to feel pressure on my waist and gasped as it intensified. 

  “Nate, you’re...squeezing...too hard,” I rasped out. 

  And he started laughing, no, cackling. As he laughed, his grip tightened and I continued gasping and clawing at everything I could. 

  “Nate...stop!” 

  But he kept laughing and squeezing. When he finally released me, I looked up and saw nothing behind his eyes. Everything in me told me to run, but, I knew he could have easily caught up to me.

  “I really thought you were smarter than that, Y/N. C’mon, you couldn’t honestly think that I would do all this to be with you,” he sneered.

  “So why do it then?” I asked, my voice so small that I could have kicked myself for it. 

  Nate sighed and folded his arms. “Because you made it so easy and, to ask for a favor.” 

  “What? That makes no sense,” I argued. “I told you I owed you one that day you gave me a ride!” 

  “Yeah, well, I needed to make sure that you were available when I needed you.” 

  “Whatever, screw you,” I hissed as I pivoted on my heel. 

  “Too late for you, you’re already screwed.” Nate pulled out a folder from inside his jacket pocket. “Remember those special pictures you sent to Tyler? Well, they count as distribution of child pornography, which has a hefty fine and sentence.” 

   My mouth opened and closed several times before I faced him and responded. “But...but you held them, doesn’t that count towards possession? And, you’re extorting me!” 

  Nate glowered at me and stormed over. “Heresay, no solid evidence for your case. Plus, I’m a Jacobs, so, who are you kidding?” 

   I felt so sick to my stomach that I could have thrown up, fainted, or cried at that moment. This was not real, this could not be real.

   “What do you want?” I asked.

   “Like I said, just be available when I need you.” 

  “Fine.” 

  “Sorry, what was that?” He gripped my chin his hand and forced me to look up at him.

  “Okay,” I said softly.

  “Hmm.” His eyes scanned my face before he released me. “And if I ever hear you judging my relationship with Maddy again, these pictures are going to be the least of your concern.” 

  I nodded weakly, regretting every single thing I ever told him. Nate Jacobs was truly the devil. He wandered off into the night like a centurion leaving a victorious battle. It seemed like he always won. 

  I managed not to start crying until I was on the empty sidewalk. No, I sobbed so bad that my throat went dry. 

  How could I have been so stupid? I should have known it was him that day Maddy yelled at him for texting all day. 

  Stupid, stupid, stupid!

  My sobs continued as I grabbed my phone and texted Rue. 

  Y/N: U were right. 

[caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma]

Map of the Soul Drabble #3

Drabble #3 - One Potato, Two Potato

Pairing: Seokjin x reader (platonic)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 6.5K+

Warning: Death of a family member (cancer), cursing, bad jokes/puns, funerals, family drama

-----------------

Even though the sky was clear and sunny, your body felt cold and cloudy. Warm rays of sunlight streamed through stained glass across the collection of potted plants and floral arrangements in the room, all of it surrounding the varnished black walnut casket which sat center stage at the front. After a long 7 years of fighting against an invisible enemy, your grandmother finally succumbed to cancer, taking part of your heart to the heavens with her. You gathered together with your family to say your final goodbyes, and not a soul in the funeral home could get your tears to stop falling.

“I’m worried about her,” you heard your father whisper behind you. “She hasn’t stopped crying since last night.”

“I know, honey,” your mother responded. “But you know how close they were. You can’t just expect her to be okay overnight. It will take some time for her to heal.”

“If only Seokjin would get here sooner,” your father grumbled. “He always knows how to cheer her up.”

There was truth behind your father’s grumbles. Your favorite cousin, Seokjin, never failed to bring a smile to your face with his clever quips and his never-ending assault of cheesy jokes. In the midst of your current despair, however, you doubted whether he would be able to pull you out of the pit of misery in which you were currently drowning.

You pulled yet another tissue from the box in your hands and swiped at the ceaseless drops spilling past your eyelashes. You frowned slightly at the darkened wet spots dappled across the fabric of your pink floral romper.

Ugh, I knew I shouldn’t have worn mascara.

“Oh, look, honey,” your mother whispered while tapping your shoulder. “I think the Kims just arrived.”

You sniffled and wiped at your nose before turning toward the entrance, and sure enough, the entire Kim clan was filtering into the funeral home. Your aunt waved in your direction, and your mother sent back an equally enthusiastic wave in response. In mere moments, the two of them were embracing and chattering away in hushed voices about incoming relatives, friends, and the big dinner taking place after the funeral. Your father patted your shoulder, encouraging you to keep out of their gossipy affairs.

You sighed heavily and scanned the room, looking for Seokjin’s broad shoulders and tousled chestnut locks, but he was nowhere to be seen. Discouraged, you turned back to gaze at the myriad floral arrangements landscaping the front of the room. As luck would have it, everyone knew your grandmother remarkably well. Every bouquet was in a shade of pink and the delightful rosy hues transformed the dreary box into a chest containing a precious treasure. It was soothing to look upon the roses, carnations, lilies, and other flowers all lending their delicate fragrance and beauty to the somber scene before you.

A side door creaked open to reveal two funeral home workers carrying in two more large floral arrangements. One was decked out in the signature pink motif, but the other was a ghastly collection of yellow and purple blooms with a hideous printed bow and gold foil wrapping around the bottom of the pot.

“Where did that monstrosity come from?” uttered a voice from your left. “It’s an eyesore.”

You turned just in time to raise your eyebrows as a newly bleached blonde Seokjin slid into the seat next to you with a scowl on his face. His rosy button up shirt was accented with a fuchsia pocket square and tie combo, and you smiled at his strict adherence to your grandmother’s signature color. Pink just accentuated Seokjin’s personality perfectly; it was light, comforting, and full of life. The horrid yellow and purple creation invading the flower arrangements was an affront to Seokjin’s very nature, and you could tell he was not having it.

“Help me hide that hideous thing in the back,” Seokjin requested with a pat to your knee. “Before anyone sees it.”

The urgency in his voice drew a small smile on your lips and you readily followed him to the front of the room. You both made a big show of rearranging the flowers and potted plants, and through a little misdirection, you hid the sore thumb behind a mountain of pink roses and lilies. With the funeral faux pas handled, you and Seokjin meandered back to your seats and sighed with relief.

“Glad that’s done,” Seokjin smirked. “High five for teamwork!”

With his large hand lifted just above your head, you grinned and gladly granted him the high five. Seokjin’s comforting presence seemed to have cleared some of the gloomy rain clouds which refused to dissipate in the wake of your grandmother’s death. More people began filing into the funeral home and Seokjin placed his arm around you and drew you close.

“I still can’t believe she’s gone,” he whispered. “It doesn’t feel real.”

“My heartbreak feels real,” you countered. “I was just talking to her the other day, Jinnie.”

“I know,” he pouted. “I called her a few days ago too. I was still missing a few of her recipes for the family cookbook. We’re going to have to dig through her stuff at the house to figure out the rest on our own.”

“Whatever you need, Jinnie,” you promised. “I’m just glad she was able to share some of those things with us. Don’t worry. We will find the rest. I don’t know what I would do if we could never taste those things again.”

“It’ll take some practice to get them just right,” Seokjin sighed. “But we really need to find the rest. Between you and me, I think we can handle it. Right, goguma?”

“Awwww, goguma,” you sniffled. “Grandma won’t ever be able to call me a sweet potato again.”

“I know,” Seokjin said comfortingly. “But I’m still here, and I will continue to call you goguma from now on.”

“Thank you, Jinnie,” you smiled. “Does that mean I get to call you gamja?”

“But of course,” Seokjin chuckled. “What good is a sweet potato without her savory counterpart? Together, we can find those last remaining secret recipes.”

“Typical Grandma,” you mused. “Never wanting to give away the best recipes. Not even the secret things she would do aside from the written recipe!”

“I know,” Seokjin huffed. “Remember what she would tell us instead?”

Seokjin rearranged his face to take on the look of an old lady with a smirk.

“And that’s all,” Seokjin creaked out in a faux granny voice. “Unless you want to get a little fancy.”

“And of course, she always got fancy,” you seethed. “Sneaky old lady.”

“The sneakiest,” Seokjin agreed. “I guess I have to take over that position now.”

“I’ll fight you for it,” you challenged with a smile and you both put up your dukes.

Your quiet giggles were interrupted by a grim faced man in a gray suit tapping the podium microphone. A cacophony of feedback and groans from the guests erupted across the room, culminating in a clearing of the throat and a somber “Pardon me.”

“Pardon me,” the somber man repeated. “Will everyone please take their seats? We will begin the service in a few minutes.”

Everyone crowded into the long pews, and soon, only standing room was available. The beloved matriarch of your family certainly touched an abundance of lives in her time on Earth, and that sentiment carried you forth as the service began. Family members and friends took turns reading words of comfort and praise, and you and Seokjin even contributed a reading of your grandmother’s favorite poem. When all was said and done, the service continued on to the cemetery where your grandmother was finally laid to rest beside your already departed grandfather.

----------------------------

“Kim Seokjin, I’m warning you!” you growled. “If you fuck up my hair, I will literally murder you.”

Seokjin’s barely contained guffaws spilled out as squeaks and squawks as he continued to apply pink dye to the bleached sections of your hair before folding them up with foil.

“Relax,” Seokjin chuckled as he continued working. “This isn’t my first time doing someone’s hair. You’re in good hands.”

You grumbled slightly as Seokjin continued to foil wrap more blonde sections of hair around your face, but you relaxed when you realized how focused Seokjin was. After questioning his new blonde look, he explained his clever scheme to pay tribute to your grandmother by dying his treasured brown tresses to a brilliant pink color. After expressing your desire to do the same, you were now sitting in her bathroom with foil sheets, bowls of bleach and dye on the counter and one of your grandmother’s favorite dressing gowns covering your clothes.

“That should do it,” Seokjin announced as he stepped back to admire his handiwork. “Now, we just wait for the dye to set.”

“How many foils did you use?” you questioned while lifting a few covered sections. “I look like an aluminum pinecone over here.”

“Not that many,” he admitted while adjusting the plastic shower cap on his head. “I think I bleached about 13 different sections. Maybe a bit more? You should’ve just done your whole head like me.”

“I don’t want to be twinsies, Seokjinnie,” you replied. “I just want a little pop of pink.”

“Hey,” Seokjin smirked. “What do you call a country with only pink cars?”

You perked up and grinned at your smug cousin, noting that he was desperately trying to hold the punchline in.

“What,” you relented.

“A Pink Car-nation!” Seokjin sputtered.

You both gave in to the absurdity of the cheesy joke and you wandered into your grandmother’s room to sit on her small pink loveseat.

“I always loved this little nook in her room,” you sighed wistfully. “Remember when we’d watch cooking shows with her in here?”

“Yup, every Thursday night,” Seokjin beamed. “I purposely avoided school activities that met on Thursdays so that I never missed an evening with her.”

“She loved those shows,” you reminisced. “Remember when we found all those old Iron Chef episodes on YouTube? She loved it!”

“Not as much as she loved watching Iron Chef America,” Seokjin reminded you. “She had a crush on both Alton Brown and the Chairman.”

“No way,” you argued. “She wanted Morimoto and Michael Symon! She always loved their dishes the best.”

“I think we can agree that she just loved food,” Seokjin chuckled. “The woman had a passion for feeding us delicious things.”

You both sighed and nodded your head, your thoughts replaying touching memories of your grandmother in an attempt to summon her spirit into the room.

“What are we gonna do without her, gamja?” you sniffled. “Things are never going to be the same around here.”

“I don’t know,” Jin huffed. “I’m sure we’ll think of something, goguma.”

A gentle knock pulled you both out of your reverie and your aunt appeared at the doorway with a pink plastic tote in her hands. Her eyebrows rose comically when she peeped the hair accessories you were both rocking, but she shook her head and decided that silence was best in this situation.

“I figured you two would be in here,” she smiled softly. “This was always your place with her.”

“Yeah, we just feel closer to her in here,” you replied.

“What’s that, eomma?” Seokjin gestured at the tote in his mother’s hands. “More of Grandma’s stuff for the closet?”

“Actually, it was on one of the chairs in the dining room,” she explained. “We saw it when we were clearing places for dinner. There’s a note inside. It’s addressed to the two of you...from her.”

Both you and Seokjin bolted off the couch, arms ready to receive this newfound treasure. The glossy opaque exterior did nothing to offer any explanation as to the contents of the container. Noting the intimate nature of this discovery, your aunt stepped forward and gingerly placed the container on the coffee table. After giving your hand a gentle squeeze and offering a kiss to Seokjin’s cheek, she offered a small smile and left without another word.

You and Seokjin sank back into the couch cushions and stared at the pink plastic taunting you from the coffee table. After a moment, you glanced at Seokjin and realized that he was too dumbstruck to do anything.

“I’m going to open it, Jinnie,” you announced. “Is that ok?”

Seokjin could only nod with furrowed brows and his breath caught as you lifted the lid to reveal a pile of multicolored pieces of paper stacked inside topped with a folded sheet of pink lined paper. The box released the scent of coriander, bergamot, lavender, and peppercorns and your eyes watered at the nostalgic scent of your grandmother. You took the folded note into your hand and began to unfold it as Seokjin sat forward to hear you read what was inside. Tears sprang to your eyes as you quickly scanned the page and began to read.

My Dearest Gamja & Sweetest Goguma,

I know that I will not be able to help you finish the cookbook that you’ve been working so hard on, and I apologize for that. I know that whatever you two “cook up” will be amazing, with or without my help. You two will always be my favorites, but don’t ever tell anyone that, not even your parents. They’ll just be jealous, or “jelly” as you kids like to say. I know this isn’t much of a gift, but it’s my most precious possession in the world besides my family. Inside this box, you’ll find the last of my secret recipes. (Yes, the ones you’ve been bugging me about for months now. I also threw in a few extra things just for you two.) Please take this knowledge and put it to good use. Remember that whenever you get stuck in a recipe that it’s ok to improvise. Always trust your instincts and believe in your skills (because I taught you most of them), and if all else fails, just know that I will be proud of you no matter what you do. I love you both more than you will ever know. Please take care of each other and don’t forget that it’s always a good idea to get a little fancy in the kitchen.

Always your little kitchen fairy,

Grandma

P.S. Don’t you dare get rid of my aprons! I worked very hard on those. They belong in the kitchen.

You sniffled as you took in the elegant swirls of her handwriting and the esoteric scribbles in the margins. You were about to comment about one particular doodle to Seokjin, but then you looked up and noticed his reddened ears, his tear streaked cheeks, and his trembling lips.

“Oh, gamja,” you cried out. “What’s wrong?”

“I just-,” Seokjin tried to speak, but failed. “I just miss her so much, goguma. She just got us, you know? No one else really gets us. She always did, and now, she’s gone.”

His last word died on his lips and he could no longer hold back the choking sob clawing at his throat. You quickly placed the letter back on the table and threw your arms around your cousin’s quaking shoulders. The two of you held onto each other, sobbing in your shared grief and comforting each other as best you could.

“We knew this was going to happen at some point, Jinnie,” you muttered into his shoulder. “She couldn’t keep fighting forever. At least we know that she’s not in pain anymore.”

“I know,” he pouted petulantly. “Doesn’t mean I wanted her to leave us.”

“She didn’t completely leave us,” you assured him. “She left us this. Now, we can finish putting together this cookbook. It will be her family legacy.”

That thought seemed to sit well with Seokjin because he released a shaky exhale and straightened up. He leaned over to pull a few tissues out of the crocheted tissue box on the coffee table and he handed you one while he dabbed at the wetness on his flushed cheeks. After you’d both composed yourselves, you began digging through the items in the pink container.

“Oh my God!” Seokjin exclaimed while lifting several pieces of paper. “She finally gave up those last few gems that we kept asking her about.”

“You got her cookie recipe?!” you gasped. “And what about that soup she always makes when we’re sick?”

“It’s all here!” Seokjin confirmed. “The cookies, the soup, and even that chicken dish she only made for special occasions. She even gave us some cooking tips. You know, the stuff she would always do that wasn’t in the recipes? She wrote it all down here in the margins. This is fantastic! You just need to help me put it together.”

You continued perusing the contents of the container and noticed some irregularities in the organization. Your grandmother was a culinary genius, but keeping things neat and in order was not one of her strong suits.

“I think we’re missing a page, Jinnie,” you pouted. “I can’t find the second half of this cookie recipe. I wanted to make some for dessert tonight. Help me find it.”

You both began digging through the dozens of pages of notes in the container, and it was proving to be quite the task. Seokjin frantically filtered through several sheets of paper seeking the page in question. With the copious collection of Post-it notes, sticky flags, and impromptu bookmarks, the coffee table was an absolute disaster area within minutes.

“I swear I just saw that page,” Seokjin grumbled. “It had a blue tab on it and it had a little whale scribbled in the corner of the page.”

“Is the one that you’re holding in your hand?” you quipped with a smile.

Seokjin examined the paper in his hand and his head fell back in defeat. You could barely control the giggle that was threatening to escape from your lips.

“Seriously?” Seokjin groaned. “We’ve been looking for this for like five minutes already.”

“It’s fine, gamja,” you assured him. “You know what they say, if you’re searching for something, take an apple with you.”

You gestured at yourself and Seokjin smiled.

“And why is that?” Seokjin mused.

“So that your search will be fruitful,” you grinned.

You both chuckled at your lame pun, and you could see Seokjin gearing up for one of his infamous cheesy jokes.

“We should’ve called you sagwa instead of goguma, y’know?” Seokjin suggested. “But grandma always said you were too soft and sweet to be an apple, even if your middle name is Eris.”

“I yam what I yam,” you gloated. “There’s no arguing with her logic.”

“Hey,” Seokjin chuckled. “Why do sweet potatoes make good detectives?”

“Why?” you smiled.

“Because they keep their eyes peeled,” Seokjin responded before exploding into a fit of squeaky laughter.

The two of you collected yourselves after the giggles calmed down and stacked the handwritten notes back into the pink container for safekeeping. Once you got the chance, you were going to begin typing everything up and creating a digital template for the cookbook. Your best friend/soulmate, Taehyung, was creating some dazzling layouts and original artwork that would be used to decorate the cookbook and commemorate your grandmother.

After rinsing the pink dye out of each other’s hair in the shower with your grandmother’s removable shower head, you and Seokjin dried your hair and styled it the best you could with your grandmother’s limited styling products. You wove your hair into a pair of French braid pigtails and the brilliant hues of pink peeking through your dark hair filled you with glee.

Perfect.

You turned to see Seokjin arranging his rosy bangs so that his forehead was still exposed when you had a brilliant idea.

“Want to help me make some of Grandma’s cookies, gamja?” you chirped. “We should make a double batch for everyone that’s coming.”

“I’m down,” Seokjin replied with a grin. “As long as we have this recipe, what could go wrong?”

30 MINUTES LATER

“This doesn’t look right, gamja,” you huffed while scanning the recipe ingredients on the page again. “The dough feels too wet. I think we did something wrong.”

Seokjin walked over and looked at the sticky mess coating your hands and then glanced back at the page you were still decoding.

“You’re right,” Seokjin agreed. “Something isn’t right.”

You wiped as much of the greasy dough back into the bowl as you could before walking over to the sink to wash your hands of the sticky substance. Whatever it was, it was definitely not cookies. You dried your hands on the flamingo print towel hanging from your pink ruffled apron and groaned at the unchanging list of ingredients on the page. You didn’t even notice when your cousin Sana wandered in and peeked over your shoulder.

“What is this?” she asked abruptly, nearly giving you a heart attack.

“Holy shit, Sana,” you gasped while clutching your chest. “Where the hell did you come from, you little ninja?”

“Your mom sent me inside to get tablecloths,” she griped. “Where are they, anyway?”

Seokjin opened a cabinet and pulled out a pile of folded pink patterned tablecloths and handed them to Sana. She gazed at his hair for a second too long and Seokjin took that as an invitation to strike a pose.

“You like it?” Seokjin prompted. “Looks good, huh?”

Sana’s sharp gaze cut across to your braids and she raised a judgmental eyebrow at the pink threaded in your dark hair.

“We did it for Grandma,” you explained. “Something to pay tribute to her memory.”

Sana’s countenance relaxed and she nodded with a smirk.

“Well, that’s ok then,” Sana murmured. “If you’re going to look ridiculous, at least it’s for a good cause.”

Both you and Seokjin gaped at her snarky remark and your eyes followed her as she made her way to the hallway. She paused for a moment and turned back with a huff.

“By the way,” Sana grumbled. “One of your friends is here.”

“Oh, is it Tae?” you hoped. “He’s supposed to be getting here today. His parents couldn’t drive him yesterday so he missed the funeral.”

“Ugh, no,” Sana snapped. “It’s not your idiot best friend. It’s some girl.”

“Soulmate, Sana, not idiot best friend,” you admonished playfully. “They may mean the same thing, but Tae is big on labels.”

“Whatever,” Sana rolled her eyes. “It’s not him. Just come outside and get your friend. I don’t know who she is, but she’s kinda annoying.”

“I’ll go out in a minute,” you replied while studying the recipe once again. “Jin-Jin and I are working on the cookies right now. We need to figure out what’s wrong with the recipe.”

Sana leaned in and looked at the dough in the mixing bowl and scowled.

“That dough looks like shit,” she growled. “What did you do to it?”

“Sana!” you exclaimed with a start. “Rude much?”

“What?” Sana argued. “It does! My dog’s shit looks like that if she eats too much fried food.”

“You know, she’s got a point, goguma,” Seokjin commented lightly. “Maybe we missed something in the recipe?”

“Just dry it out,” Sana suggested. “It looks too wet to be cookie dough.”

“Huh?” you recoiled. “How would you know that?”

“Trust me,” Sana smirked. “I’ve stolen a lot of cookie dough out of Grandma’s freezer. I know what it should look like.”

With the mischievous smirk still pulling her lips into a sneer, Sana turned and left the kitchen with a little hitch in her step.

“That little hellion,” Seokjin mused. “Should we tell her that Grandma knew about her thievery all along?”

“And ruin the illusion that she’s a sneaky little thief?” you giggled. “Nah, maybe later. I’m just surprised she paid so much attention to the texture of the dough. She’s one smart cookie after all.”

“I guess she’s a cookie dough expert,” Seokjin chuckled. “Do you know what they call a smart cookie?”

“What?” you smirked with anticipation.

“Academia nut,” Seokjin replied, then immediately fell into squeaky giggles.

You both enjoyed the lame pun and joke combo for a moment before looking back into the mixing bowl with frustration. You grabbed the ingredients page again and tried to puzzle out the mystery of the cookie recipe once again.

“Are you sure this is the right page to the cookie recipe, Jinnie?” you queried. “Maybe it was a different page.”

“Maybe?” Seokjin hummed. “Can you check the pink container again? Maybe we missed something.”

You took off your apron and placed it on a hook before walking back into the hall. You raced back to your grandmother’s room past the living room and shuffled through the box looking for the long lost cookie ingredient list. After flipping through a few pages, a loose piece of heavy cardstock fluttered to the ground. Upon further inspection, you immediately realized the problem with the recipe and you groaned loudly.

Grandma, you sneaky old lady!

You quickly headed back to the kitchen, but unfortunately, you didn’t get very far.

When you got back into the living room, a high pitched squeal assaulted your ears.

“HEY!” the voice bellowed. “THERE YOU ARE!”

Before you could trace the origin of the voice, a pair of arms enveloped you in a bear hug. You look past the wisps of caramel hair flapping in your eyes at your confused younger cousin Sana.

“She said she was here to see you,” Sana scowled. “I told her you were busy in the kitchen, but she wouldn’t listen. Friend of yours?”

“Well, of course she’s my friend,” the strange voice insisted. “We’ve been in the same class since second grade, haven’t we?”

As she pulled away to reveal her face, you nearly growled at the pair of pleading eyes belonging to the one and only Aeri. The same Aeri who once poured glitter glue into your pencil case, who was the sweetheart of your school, and who was infamous for going after all the popular, rich boys in town just to reap the benefits.

“I’m so sorry to hear about your grandmother,” Aeri squealed sadly. “I just wanted to come over and make sure you were doing ok.”

“I’m fine,” you said, suspicion etching little wrinkles around your eyes. “How did you know I was here?”

“Just a lucky guess,” she shrugged. “Your aunt said I could stay and help set up for the party as a sign of my condolences to your family. Isn’t that great?”

“Yeah, sure,” you commented, still unsure of her intentions. “Thank you.”

“Oh, you dyed your hair?” Aeri noted. “That’s an interesting color choice.”

“Grandma loved pink,” Sana explained. “Her and Seokjin decided to play salon together. It’s a tribute.”

You glared at the air quotes Sana was making when she said “tribute,” but you also noticed that Aeri’s eyes lit up with Sana said Seokjin’s name.

“Oh well, that’s wonderful,” Aeri cooed. “It looks great. I bet your cousin’s hair looks just as good. That’s so sweet that you guys did that for your grandmother.”

The air in the living room shifted uncomfortably with Aeri’s words and you cleared your throat before the moment got any more awkward.

“Well, I’d love to stay and chat,” you muttered. “But I’m a little busy right now getting the dessert ready for tonight. Have fun setting up.”

You turned towards the kitchen, but not before hearing the beginning of Aeri and Sana’s conversation.

“Oh, I wonder if I should go help her in the kitchen,” Aeri proclaimed sweetly. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

“No, she’s fine.” Sana grumbled. “She’s got Jin in there. We need your help outside setting up tables. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Aeri’s protests faded out the door and you scowled as you heard the screen door fall shut.

What is this bitch up to?

You didn’t have time to play detective, so you shelved those thoughts until after dessert was finished.

Seokjin was pulling out more ingredients from the cupboard as you entered and you noticed that the spices were piling up on the counter.

“What are you doing, gamja?” you asked. “What with the spices?”

“Just thinking of getting a little fancy,” he quipped playfully. “Grandma liked to play mad scientist in here. Why shouldn’t I?”

“If this is for the cookies, hold that thought,” you said while handing him the cardstock. “We need to fix the recipe before you do that.”

Seokjin took the card from your hand and tilted his head in confusion. After flipping the card over and then back, he looked at you with questions in his eyes.

“What am I supposed to be looking at, gamja?” Seokjin asked

“That is a label for a box of butter sticks,” you explained. “Actually, it’s for a box of half sticks.”

“Ok, but why am I looking at it?” Seokjin persisted. “What does this mean?”

“This is Grandma’s butter package,” you continued. “This is the only butter she buys. But they sell it in half sticks...they only sell it in half-sticks.”

Seokjin pondered that statement and then the light bulb flickered mockingly above his head.

“She only used half-sticks!” Seokjin exclaimed loudly. “We have to go in and adjust all her recipes now.”

“Yup,” you sighed. “Leave it to Grandma to write her recipes in code.”

“So, we just need to double all the ingredients and we should be good,” Seokjin concluded. “That’s why the dough feels so weird.”

“You grab the wet ingredients,” you commanded. “I’ll gather the dry and meet you at the mixer.”

You both high-fived and pounced into action. With a little teamwork, you managed to pull together a decent cookie dough out of the mess you’d made. Seokjin even took a little time to mix some freshly ground ginger to the mix for a little fresh and spicy kick.

“It will be like gingerbread,” Seokjin promised. “But without the dark flavor of the molasses.”

Once the cookies were done, you both filled a few platters and carried them out to the table that was set up in the backyard patio. People were just starting to arrive, and the two of you mingled around and welcomed everyone to the memorial dinner. Once or twice, you caught sight of Aeri mixed into the group talking to Seokjin, but you couldn’t get away to confront her. The way she was batting her eyelashes at him and touching his arm was making you bristle.

I don’t know what she’s playing at, but whatever it is, it can’t be good.

Once the dinner was over, the clean up crew was hustling and bustling inside to get your grandmother’s house cleaned before everyone left for the night.

You were just putting the vacuum back into the closet when a loud argument erupted from inside the kitchen. You and Seokjin rushed into the kitchen to see what all the fuss was about.

“That glassware set is mine and I’m taking it,” cried your aunt. “Mom always said that I was going to be the one to inherit it after she passed.”

“You can’t just start taking things out of the house,” cried your other aunt. “We should give everyone a chance to claim something of their own. You weren’t the only one who was promised something, you know. Give the kids a chance to get something as well. Don’t be so selfish.”

The word “selfish” triggered another round of yelling and you and Seokjin decided to step in before things got out of hand. In the end, a running tab of claimed items was created and everyone settled down once the matter was put into writing. The emotional aunts wandered back into the living room, while you, Seokjin, and your mother stayed behind to finalize the list.

“Did you two already pick out something?” your mother asked. “I know a lot has already been claimed, but I’m sure there must be something you would want.”

“Not really, mom,” you sighed. “Seokjin and I already have the best part of Grandma: her recipes. I don’t think there is anything else that would rival that.”

Your mother nodded and then abruptly perked up. She walked over to one of the drawers and began digging through the silverware inside, seemingly searching for something specific. She pulled out a spoon and a fork and smiled widely when she held them in her hands. You and Seokjin were puzzled over her actions and your confusion increased when she placed the utensils on the countertop between you.

“This design was from Grandma and Grandpa’s wedding set,” she explained. “They received a full place setting, but these are the only two items left from the original set. The others were either damaged or lost along the way. I think you two should have them. That way you can always be connected to your grandparents and to each other. You two were the roses of your grandmother’s garden. She always held a special affection for you two that was different from your other cousins.”

With tears brimming in your eyes, you looked up at Seokjin and saw he wasn’t faring much better. Your mom sensed that this needed to be a private moment, so she placed her hand on both your cheeks for a moment and then gracefully exited the kitchen, leaving the two of you staring at the elaborate spoon and fork on the counter.

“So how do we decide who gets what?” you probed with a sniffle. “I don’t want to fight like our crazy aunts did. We’re way more civilized than that.”

“There’s only one answer to that question,” Seokjin said while wiping a tear from his eye. “Why did the sweet potato cross the road?”

“I don’t know, Jinnie,” you hiccuped. “Why?”

Seokjin slid the fork over to you and placed his hand on your shoulder. This was a bittersweet moment for the two of you and you knew that his joke was the only thing keeping the two of you from breaking down into yet another round of tears.

“She saw a fork up ahead,” Seokjin croaked. “That’s why you should get the fork, goguma. I’ll take the spoon, yeah?”

“Makes sense, gamja,” you agreed. “You are always the one to scoop me up when I’m down. You’re always such a sweetheart, and I love you for that.”

“I love you too,” Seokjin mumbled while pulling you into a crushing hug. “Hey, speaking of sweetness, if you put sugar in tea, what do you put in sugar?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed into his shoulder. “What?”

“A spoon,” he chuckled while grabbing his spoon from the counter. “See, my jokes always make sense of everything.”

“I promise to keep this with me always,” you swore while holding your fork. “This random utensil will forever be my connection to you, gamja.”

“And this spoon is never leaving my sight, goguma,” Seokjin promised. “It will be a constant reminder that I have you and you have me.”

You embraced once again and a sharp throat clearing interrupted your heartfelt moment. You both turned to see your younger cousin Sana just inside the kitchen doorway, wearing her signature scowl and a bright blue Transformers T-shirt.

“Hey, Sana,” you called out while wiping away your tears yet again. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Sana sighed. “We just finished cleaning up. Your friend Aeri just left. It took a while to get rid of her.”

“Oh, is she your friend, goguma?” Seokjin probed. “She mentioned something like that earlier.”

“No, not really,” you scowled. “She’s just a girl from school.”

“I think she liked me,” Seokjin bragged. “She said my hair reminded her of her favorite bubblegum.”

“It looks more like Pepto Bismol, if you ask me,” Sana interjected.

You released a loud cackle as Seokjin’s ego deflated slightly at Sana’s words, but he shook it off quickly and smiled.

“So how did you like the cookies after all, Sana?” Seokjin asked. “As good as Grandma’s?”

“They were pretty good,” Sana admitted. “A little different, but still good.”

“It’s too bad we didn’t have any left,” you sighed. “I wanted to take some home, but they were gone before I could.”

“So no cookie dough left either?” Sana hoped. “Maybe in the freezer?”

“No, you rascal,” Seokjin chuckled while rumpling her hair. “Nothing left for you to steal this time.”

"What makes you think I don't already have cookie dough at home?" Sana challenged.

"What cookie dough?" you asked. “What are you talking about?”

"Grandma's last bag,” Sana stated with a grin of Cheshire proportions. “I found it in the freezer the other day and took it."

"Sana!” you reprimanded. “You should share that with the family."

"Nope,” Sana boasted. “Mine now. But I might be willing to share if you can do me a favor."

“What kind of favor?” Seokjin wondered aloud. “Whatever it is, we’ll do it. We need an original sample to make sure we get the next batch of dough right.”

Sana shuffled forward and glanced between you and Seokjin. She was one of your stranger cousins, always dabbling in odd hobbies and adopting a style that was all her own. Both you and Seokjin felt protective of her unconventional personality, and despite her surly demeanor, Sana gravitated to the two of you more than any of your other relatives.

“I was wondering,” Sana began softly. “If maybe you could teach me how to cook. I want to learn how to make cookies.”

“I think you mean bake,” Seokjin corrected her gently. “And we’d love to teach you how to make cookies. We have grandma’s cookie recipe now. Want to help us make some?”

“No,” Sana replied. “I want those peanut butter cookies that you guys made for Halloween. Those are my favorite.”

“We can do that,” you beamed. “Let’s get our aprons on and then we can show you how to make those cookies.”

Once you all had on aprons, with Sana opting for a plain white apron while you and Seokjin donned frilly pink ones, you all started pulling out ingredients for the cookies. As you waited for the butter to soften, you started regaling Sana with recipes from your grandmother’s cookbook.

“So there’s also candy recipes?” Sana asked. “Are you going to share those with everybody?”

“Absolutely,” you replied. “It’s a family cookbook. It wouldn’t be fair if we kept it all to ourselves.”

“I didn’t know you were so interested in cooking, Sana,” Seokjin commented while showing her how to mix the dry ingredients. “It’s a valuable skill to have, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Sana smirked. “I’m sure I can put those recipes to good use.”

The three of you continued to work on the cookies while you and Seokjin gave Sana instructions on each step of the recipe. A comforting air settled in the kitchen and you couldn’t help but wonder if your grandmother’s spirit was sitting in the corner on her stool, fondly watching as her kitchen was brought to life once again.

Author's Note: I finally got around to finishing this drabble. Work is really putting me through the ringer. I hope you all enjoy this little slice of family time with the one and only Kim Seokjin. These potato heads are so lovable and it did make sad to put them through such an angsty memory, but it all worked out in the end. Thank you to my Beta @xxxille-girlxxx for being an amazing soulmate and reading my drafts. Your suggestions brought this whole drabble to a whole other level. I'm going to be working on my collab fic that is due next month, so I will return to these drabbles and my other fic Peripheral after I finish that. Stay safe, everyone!

MAP OF THE SOUL MASTERLIST

@caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma's MASTERLIST

[bubmyg]

something new - jjk

pairing: jeongguk x reader

genre/warnings: youtuber!au, established relationship, fluff, minor mentions of insecurity and anxiety

word count: 1,821

summary: you’re gone for the evening and jeongguk has a video idea or the one where he’s ten levels of shy when your hands are on his cheeks (alternately, loosely based off that one jenna marbles video)

There was an ambient huff that succeeded the flicker of red snug next to the lens of Jeongguk’s camera, one that landed his hands on his hips, gathering the baggy material of his jacket around his lean waist. He sighed, still bent forward over the sink where the camera rested idle on the lip between the wall and the mirror, sweeping gaze studying a particularly concerning stain centered on the plastic covering layered inside the shower curtain. 

After a good ten seconds of silent filming, he reached for the dye kit curled next to the facet, lifting it up to the camera where he got impossibly close, wrinkling his nose and speaking to what would eventually be his audience. 

“Is this a bad idea?”

Jeongguk pulled back to inspect the cardboard in his hands, flashy advertisements and chemical formulas that essentially translated to bleach, something that would ombre out the shaggy ends of stark brown hair that messily brushed at his flushed cheeks. He half expected you to answer his question spoken into the empty apartment, your figure to materialize hours early from the party you were attending on some hunch that he was doing something ridiculous. 

But you didn’t appear, not even through a text on the phone in his pocket, and he was still alone with a box of hair dye in his grasp and his camera capturing the comedown of what had been a previously eureka moment for a video idea when you’d kissed him goodbye and evaded the third ass slap of the night. 

Another silent breath and he shrugged, pointedly dropping the hair dye box to the edge of the sink, the slam a little too directed and the cardboard fumbled into the sink basin. Jeongguk didn’t falter aside from wide eyes, shrugging as he sliced a fingernail under the seal and began to unpack the contents. 

One plastic glove was slid across inked knuckles, leaning toward his lens again, “Something new, right guys?—” He paused long enough to slice his gaze to the mysterious shower curtain stain before winking, lowering his voice a half octave, “Right, baby girl?”

“I…” Jeongguk trailed off, ruffled crooked fingertips into the locks partially damp and parted across the center of his head, “I think I like it?”

His nose wrinkled at his reflection first and then at the camera he pointed toward the mirror, “I mean it’s definitely different, and my hair doesn’t feel too disgusting….”

He went about cleaning up the evidence, lugging his camera along with his as he did so, capturing angles of his puffed cheek and the disgruntled noises he groaned in tandem with his aching joints. In sliding his hair brush back into its proper drawer, he dislodged a pair of old scissors, chipped blue handle and slightly rusted metal ends and all. 

The scissors snapped once over Jeongguk’s reflection in the mirror until he pulled the camera aside to stare at his reflection, speaking for the camera’s benefit, “I shouldn’t trim it...should I?” and then once for his own conscious to get the hint, “We are not cutting our own hair.”

Jeongguk’s adventure lasted barely an hour into the at least three you promised to be gone, wallowing him deeper into the mountain of unmade sheets on your bed. He tried to preoccupy himself with phone games, only to distract when drying waves of half blonde would flit into long eyelashes. He tried to catch up on Jimin and Taehyung’s newest gaming series, only for his thumb to itch over one of his various camera applications to stare at his reflection, grappling with the faded hue of colors across his locks. He tried to edit a different video, only to catch his reflection in his laptop screen and wish you were home right now. 

He fell back into the cycle of phone games, something concentration consuming that managed to pull his conscious out of his muddled excitement and anxiety even for a span of ten minute intervals. The mundane, repeated actions of the character on the screen managed to lull out his concerns, positive or otherwise, in those time frames as well. 

So much so that when he registered the sound of your key in the front door, he nearly bashed his nose off the edge of your dresser in route to snatch one of his bucket hats off its hook to smash over freshly dyed tendrils. 

Jeongguk heard your call of greeting but missed the stride of your figure immediately to the bathroom, giving him some time to, conspicuously, situate himself on the couch in the living room. Except the lean of his stature to the corner of decorative pillows and folded throw blankets was anything but conspicuous, knees stiff underneath himself, shoulders square to a television that wasn’t on, phone forgotten somewhere in his rush to hide but also seek. He folded his fingers together, shoving them between his thighs and effectively making himself seem that much smaller as he squirmed upon hearing the bathroom door open. 

You didn’t notice anything odd about his behaviour at first, and if you did, you didn’t let it show. Softly, you pushed down on his knees, standard procedure to clamber across his lap as you looped tired arms around his shoulders and pressed your nose into his neck. He froze only long enough to untangle his fingers from each other and stutter warm palms across the small of your back. 

“Did you have fun?” Jeongguk nosed into your hair, conscious of the way the baggy front flap of his hat settled across the bridge of his nose. He was more conscious of that then the way his voice caught on certain syllables and ended in one hard swallow that elongated down the length of his throat.

“Mhm, just tired.” You lifted from the crook of his shoulder to slide your hands to his neck, staring at him with a cocked chin, “How was your night?”

For a half second, he thought somehow, somehow, you’d caught him. The very fear that iced through his veins contributed to the harsh stutter that laced further into his words, not smooth at all as he shrugged, “Fine, you know, nothing too exciting.”

The smile curled to each corner of your mouth was gentle, thumbing underneath Jeongguk’s jaw, “What’s wrong? And don’t tell me nothing.”

The cocky expression paired to the appearance of his teeth was wholly genuine, “Nothing.”

You pinched the skin directly underneath his ear, fond grin growing when he yelped and glowered out from the shadow of his bucket hat. You hummed, musing as your thumb soothed over the skin you irritated, “Right…”

Jeongguk whined when your lips touched his cheek, an involuntary reaction that paired with his hands flexing at your back. It happened again and again, a series of your kisses covering his face while he tried to mewl out protests in between, feathery light brushes of your pursed mouth until it tickled at the tip of his nose and the corners of his mouth to have him giggling, effectively scrunching and stretching the very skin you were trying to shower in adoration. 

It was a similar daze that mediated the zombie like throng of actions in his various mobile games, one that had him lazily beaming at you when you pulled away to look at him, so similar that he barely blinked until the shadow hanging in a neat circle around his head was gone, his bucket hat now forgotten on the adjacent couch cushion. 

You said his name with an exclamation point, aweing at the dyed strands with an excited glint in your irises. You fretted over him while his skin slowly crawled into a different dye of its own, one of a blotched red variety that gathered in the highest volumes around the various moles and freckles on his features. 

Crooked fingertips brushing through Jeongguk’s scalp became gentle palms on his warmed cheeks, tilting his gaze firmly to yours as you landed a soft peck to his bottom lip. 

“Is this what you were doing while I was gone?”

“Yeah, I wanted to do it anyway but thought it might be a good video too…” He shrugged when your lips bloomed into a lingering kiss on the right corner of his mouth, “You know, come dye my hair with me but also surprise my girlfriend who left me unattended for a few hours.”

You sensed the but in his voice so you kept quiet, kissing his eyebrow in route to brush your fingers through his hair again. 

Softly, Jeongguk inquired, “...do you like it?”

You responded by wrapping your arms around his neck, nuzzling into his skin. “Hmm...do you?”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk leaned his cheek against you, “Yeah, I think so.”

“Of course I like it, Guk,” You kissed the spot below his ear, “You look hot.” 

The assurance was the spur of confidence he needed, or at least enough to mask any remaining insecurity, quick in wrestling your squealing figure underneath his to busy his lips at the base of your throat. “Hot, huh?” He nipped underneath your jaw, gaze flicking up at you under dyed fringe that had flicked across his long eyelashes. 

“Where’s your camera?” You countered, managing to wrestle an arm out to press the heel of your palm into his forehead. 

“Don’t worry, I forgot it in the bathroom. Maybe instead of this video I’ll just post a picture out of the blue,” He nudged your hand down by your wrist to kiss the center of your palm before pinning your hand above your head. Teasingly, he pressed you further into the dislodged decorative pillows, dangling his fringe above your face, “If it’s as hot as you say...it’ll probably garner a good reaction.”

Your eye roll earned Jeongguk’s mouth back on your neck, teasing out more laughter in gentle nips underneath your jaw bone until you managed to wriggle from his gasp, curling soft hands around his cheeks again to hold him in place. 

“A big head doesn’t suit you, babe.”

He heated in your grasp, faltering in the way his thigh shifted between your parted legs and the dangle of his freshly dyed hair was on accident when his chin hinged shyly. “Okay but seriously…” Dark cocoa irises brewed in question, “Do you like it?”

“I love it because it’s you and I love you.” You let the words sink in by feeling his skin heat considerably against the soft grip of your palms while his gaze flicked to the corner of shyly crinkled eyelids. Eventually, you coaxed him closer to brush your lips against his, “But seriously? You look hot.”

“...how hot?”

You groaned, hooking an arm around his neck, “Come here, you big dork.”

He took your request literally, collapsing his arms to fit them behind your shoulder blades. 

“Jeon Jeongguk you’re crushing me—” 

“But you said to come here—” 

[asphalt-cocktail]

For the Sake of Content- Chapter 6

Chapter 6: $2 Beers and Ghosts

Summary: After walking in on your long-term boyfriend, Harrison, cheating on you and then losing your job the following day; your find yourself broke, jobless, and single for the first time in a long while. In order to make ends meet, your best friend since college, Freddie, suggests you start soliciting explicit photos of yourself, not only to help boost your confidence but to help pay the rent for his band mate’s apartment you just moved into.

A/N: Welcome to the chapter that has finally forced me to change the warnings. I hope you all enjoy it; it’s super long and a I’m pretty proud of the chapter overall! Thank you for all of your kind words and messages, asks, likes, reblogs, everything because I seriously love seeing all of those things in my notifications they all make me super happy! I haven’t started the next chapter so I am super behind but I am hopefully going to get started sometime this weekend. Since school started back up I will go back down to a once a week posting schedule unless I can squeeze in more!

Pairing: Roger Taylor x F!Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex work, smut, angst, fluff, some friendly banter between roger and reader, alcohol, cigarettes i think?, not proof read

Word Count: 6.2k back on my bullshit

18+ if you are a minor do NOT interact with this post. This is fictitious content and I own nothing.

A week had passed, and you and Roger still hadn’t had sex, but you did note that he was still actively watching your premium snapchat story which was an interesting observation.

Today, like most days, was spent lounging in your room while mindlessly scrolling through your social media feed with Netflix just making noise in the background.

“[Y/N]!” Roger’s distant and muffled voice almost blended in with the episode of Bob’s Burgers you had playing in the background.

“What!” You called back hopefully loud enough for him to hear.

Your call either went unheard or he chose to ignore it to get you out of the confines of your room. You groaned and pulled yourself from your bed, clad in only a pair of panties and an old faded tee-shirt and made your way down the hall.

You stopped mid step and noted the bathroom door ajar, “[Y/N]!” Roger’s call rang against your ears and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m right here, you daft asshole.” You snapped, pushing the bathroom door open and taking in the scene.

Roger was very obviously dying his hair, you didn’t know why but decided to not ask questions. Pieces of Roger’s hair were clipped and tied up, he had around half of his hair dyed, “Can you help me with the back?” His voice sounded close to a pleading whine, but you found that that was just how he asked for things.

You looked at the bottle in his gloved hands and frowned, “Don’t I get a pair of gloves?” you asked, your eyes narrowing and arms crossing over your chest.

Roger let out a soft sigh from his pouty mouth and rolled his eyes, “It’s just bleach.” He mumbled.

You scoffed, “Just bleach! You trying to have my skin melt off?” You grabbed the box of hair dye and tipped it upside down, directions and the packets of shampoo and conditioner tumbled out onto the counter, “Give me your gloves, why do you even need to bleach your hair? Aren’t you blond enough?” You frowned taking Roger’s wrist in your own and slipped his glove off before putting it on your hand and frowning at the residual moisture that coated the inside before Roger handed you the second one.

Once your hands were properly covered you grabbed the bottle and started squirting the liquid into his hair, saturating his natural dirty blonde roots. “You never answered my question.” You pressed, kneading your fingers into his scalp.

“What? Oh, about the bleaching?” Roger asked, his wide blue eyes peering at you through the mirror. He shrugged absent mindedly and licked his lips, “Dunno, I just like it better.”

You hummed in response, the answer didn’t satisfy you at all but you pushed the gnawing feeling in your gut aside and focused on coating Roger’s darker locks with the pungent smelling liquid, “You should really get ammonia free stuff,” You mumbled scraping your fingers lightly against his scalp. You couldn’t ignore the visible shutter that ran through Roger as he reacted to the pressure your fingers provided.

There was a moment of tension filled silence in the room before Roger broke it, slicing through it with a knife “So, why were you kicked out your old place?” He asked, suddenly the room was filled with more tension, welding it back up tight.

You swallowed thickly and let out a sigh “Well, I was sort of… I mean I offered to leave, I wasn’t kicked out.” You mumbled trying to find your words to best explain the situation, “I… uh… I walked in on my ex cheating on me.” You felt a sudden surge of suppressed emotions threaten to break through the wall you had built up. You let out a bitter laugh at the memory if it, “He told me I was boring,” the cursed word dripped off your tongue like poison.

Roger could sense the resentment, “Sorry,” He said softly, avoiding your gaze in the mirror “I shouldn’t have asked.”

You shrugged, “It’s fine, bound to come up.” Your melancholy hung in the air uncomfortably, “I’m finished.” You said giving his head a light pat before tossing the gloves and bottle of bleach onto the counter, “If you need me, you know where to find me.” You said throwing him a quick smile and slinking back into your room.

Between the time you entered your room and now, you ended up falling asleep. The pounding on your bedroom door woke you up, your throat and sinuses felt gummy from the dry air that consumed your apartment; Jesus, you and Roger really needed to invest in a humidifier. “What!” You croaked, pulling your blanket like a hood around your ears to shield yourself from the intruder.

Roger barged in “Put your boots on, we’re going out!” He said throwing the blanket off your sleepy form, “You know, those heeled ones that Freddie likes.”

You groaned, “I don’t wanna go out, Rog, I want to sleep.” You protested, curling into your body and shielding your eyes from the light he turned on.

“Shut up, you’re just sulking.” Roger said bluntly while throwing your closet open and looking through your clothes, “Christ, Fred was right, you have a drab wardrobe.” He frowned before he pulled out several articles of clothing and threw them on your tee shirt clad body, “Come on, I told you we’re going out.”

You sat up and frowned at Roger, “I don’t want to go out,” You protested, looking down at what you assumed would be a tacky outfit he picked out for you. You couldn’t help but allow a smile to creep along your features while watching him frantically buzzing around your room.

Roger sat on the bed, forcing himself next to you and playfully leaned into you, knocking your shoulder with his, “Come on, I want to show off my touch up.” Roger said running his hand through his freshly dyed and washed locks.

A laugh bubbled out of you and you flopped back onto the bed with your arms spread out like a starfish, “Fine, I’ll go out.” You said, “Get out so I can change.” You said playfully shoving him.

Within the hour you found yourself with Roger in the back of a too crowded bar clutching $2 beers. You were pressed uncomfortably close to each other and breathing recycled sweaty air, but Roger was in his element. He mingled with the other patrons that frequented the dingey space while you hovered close behind him, averting your gaze from the strangers because you simply did not want to put forward the effort that was required for meet new people.

It wasn’t a surprise when you noticed several girls approaching Roger, hooking their arms around his waist, and whispering suggestive comments into his ear. But, to your surprise he politely put his hand up and rejected their advances, which in turn earned you a glare from the women.

“Roger if one more woman looks at me like that, I’m going to throw hands.” You muttered, crossing your arms over your chest.

Roger grinned at you, “Feeling jealous?” He asked quirking his head at you with a boyish grin plastered on his face.

You grinned, “No, you didn’t pay those girls $65 to see their nudes.”

Roger gaped at you, his face flushing to the tips of his ears before he broke out into a fit of laughter that you couldn’t help but join.

Your fleet of laughter was cut short when your stomach knotted up and a feeling of nausea washed over you. “Rog,” You whispered digging your elbow into his side.

“Ow,” He mumbled, still trying to curb the little chuckles that left his mouth, “What?” He asked following your gaze.

You reached down and gripped his hand tightly in your own, your palms were coated with a layer of nervous sweat “That’s him.” You whispered nudging your head towards your infamous ex, Harrison.

Roger scoffed, “Him?” he shook his head, shaking his hand from yours and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you flush against him, “That’s the guy that said YOU were boring?” You shivered feeling Roger’s thumb rubbing at the small sliver of exposed skin, “He looks like a bloody accountant. Should we go over?”

The devilish glint in his eye should have made you uneasy; however, much to your surprise you found it had the exact opposite effect, but stilled allowed your intrusive thoughts get the best of you. “I don’t know Rog,” You shifted, looking down at your feet.

Roger’s face softened, “Come on, it’ll be fun, we can make fun of him.” Roger said in a sing-song tone and leaning into you.

Your face flushed with heat and you averted his gaze to try and hide the smile that was threatening to crack the surface, “Fine.” You mumbled.

Roger grinned and pulled you by your waist through the crowd in the direction of Harrison, but suddenly stopped, “Go over there, I’m going to get a refill,” He said pulling away, letting his hand drag across the swell of your ass, “Just follow my lead.”

You don’t know why, but for some wild reason you trusted what Roger said, giving him a curt not before watching him leave for the bar. You approached your ex and your stomach began knotting up with nerves. Maybe trusting Roger and following his lead was a mistake?

You inhaled deeply before tapping his shoulder lightly, “Harrison!” You said greeting the man with a fake smile once he turned and faced you.

Harrison’s eyes locked at you, wide with shock and he drank in your figure “[Y/N] …” He said trailing off, “Wow, you- you look great.” A small smile played on his lips, “How have you been?”

You felt your stomach clench both with sentimentality and a weird tinge of nausea, “I’ve been fine, how have you been?” You asked, suddenly very focused on your can of beer

“Oh well, you know,” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“No, I don’t know,” You answered, clenching your jaw after you spoke from pure frustration, the nerve of this asshole.

Harrison let out a deep sigh, “It’s been okay, I miss you around the house.” He sounded… sad, you almost caught yourself caring for a brief moment.

That moment left your head as soon as Roger walked up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and quickly butted into the conversation, “Who is this, love?” he asked, his hands firmly gripping you  as he buried his face into your neck. Humming affectionately, Roger buried his face into the crook of your neck and smirked before he began to lick and suck on your soft skin.

You clutched Roger’s wrist tightly, “Rog, this is-uh,” Your mind was nearly wiped blank when you felt his hands begin rubbing up and down your sides and inching forward, threatening to caress the underside of your breasts. Your eyes fluttered and you fought to keep them open, “Oh right- sorry,” you said, suddenly remembering Harrison standing right in front of you. You tapped Roger’s wrist lightly and he pulled away from your neck for a moment, “Rog this is my ex; Harrison, you know the one I walked in on cheating on me.” You added the last bit and secretly hoped it hurt him as much as it hurt you.

Harrison pursed his lips and reached his hand out for Roger to shake, but was ignored, “Is this your…?” He trailed off, leaving the question open for you to answer.

“Roger?” You purposefully ignored finishing his sentence with a fulfilling answer, “He’s in Fred’s band.”

Harrison scrunched his nose up, he never liked Freddie and therefore didn’t like anyone he associated with, “Right, well I’m hope whatever this is goes well.” He said motioning between you and Roger.

Roger grinned up at Harrison, flashing his dazzlingly straight teeth “It’s going great, mate.” He answered, “I don’t know why you’d ever call her boring, you ever feel that little thing she does with her tongue where she- ow!” You quickly pinched Roger’s forearm, causing him to jump.

“Are you still with that girl you fucked in our bed?” You didn’t know why you asked, you really didn’t want to hear the answer to the question.

Harrison was uncomfortable; Good, you thought, Fucking prick. “Yeah, actually I am. She’s in the toilet right now.” He said nodding his head towards the bathroom.

You glanced over at Roger and noticed the frown on his face, “Right,” Roger mumbled, abruptly nuzzling his nose into the side of your cheek, his skin was soft, and he smelled like high end cologne and beer. The scent was surprisingly comforting, and you felt yourself relax into the grip he firmly held. You turned your head to face him and made eye contact. You locked eyes with his, despite the dimly lit bar Roger’s eyes seemed brighter than ever and they darted from your eyes, to your lips, and back up to your eyes before he leaned in.

Your lips touched and you let out a sigh, feeling his soft lips against yours. Your hands came up and lightly rested on his cheek. His mouth molded against yours and it was as if every movement he made was well thought out and had a purpose. Roger’s tongue swiped across your bottom lip and you sighed, opening your mouth and allowing his tongue to rub against yours, he tasted like cheap beer and Marlboro Red cigarettes; a taste that was somehow only unique to Roger.

Roger pulled back and he smirked at you with kiss swollen lips when he heard Harrison clearing his throat, reminding the two of you that he was still present, “We’ll we’re going to leave and have hot passionate sex back at our apartment, so have a good night I suppose.” He flashed a cheeky grin and waved at Harrison before pulling you through the crowd with him.

When you arrived at the apartment you crossed your arms over your chest, flicking the light on and looked at your neck in the hallway mirror “What the fuck, Rog,” You hissed, craning your neck to get a view of the big obvious mark he left on your neck.

Roger grinned, approaching you from behind and wrapping his arms around your waist, just like he did in the bar, “What? Think it made him jealous?” He asked, his hands rubbing against your sides and tummy caused you to shiver.

You turned, looking over at him and hummed, “What you mean you hanging all over me like a horny teenager?” You couldn’t help but laugh, “I don’t know, but I thought it was funny.”

And I want you to kiss me again

You silently cursed your intrusive though and the throbbing between your legs you had been able to ignore since your brief kiss at the bar. Roger’s eyes looked hazy and glazed over, “Yeah?” He asked, his voice slightly breathy. It made your stomach clench and suddenly the air felt hot and you tugged at the collar of your shirt and shifted your stance, trying to do anything to prevent you from being awkward in this situation.

When you shifted you felt Roger’s body go ridged while his light breaths hitched in his throat, “What did you think was funny?” His voice was unsteady and soft, almost like he didn’t trust how his tone would hold in your shared apartment.

You looked at him in the hallway mirror, “Did you see his face after we kissed?” You couldn’t help but bring it up, the memory playing in your brain while you turned around to face Roger, your hands resting lightly on his hips.

A small laugh bubbled out from him and he looked down at you through his thick eyelashes, “What if… What if we did it again?” he asked with a boyish grin splayed across his face.

You felt heat crawling up the back of your neck and spreading across your cheeks and the tips of your ears, “Like kiss again?” you swallowed thickly and found yourself breathing heavier, “Yeah, that… that would be alright.”

Roger inhaled deeply “I’m going to kiss you, okay?” He asked, cupping your face softly in one hand and keeping the other firmly planted on your hips. You nodded, your eyes searching his face for any sign of emotion; for once he wasn’t the smooth rumored philanderer that ate your Golden Grahams and changed his outfit three times a day; he was just Roger, a nervous and wide-eyed man about to kiss his roommate in their dark apartment.

He slowly tipped your chin up and licked his lips nervously before he finally closed the gap. It was even more electrifying than the first kiss you shared in the bar. The darkness of your apartment swallowed the two of you whole like an abyss and the impossible silence caused your light pants and gasps to hammer against your ears. Your hands reached up and you ran your fingers through Roger’s messy long hair and let out a soft moan as he sucked on your lower lip, dragging his teeth across it as he pulled away.

Roger stepped back, lightly pushing you by your hips against the wall and rested one of his hands by the side of your head while he began to kiss along your jaw and trailed down to your neck, lightly sucking and biting at the mark he left earlier and leaving a trail of new ones in his wake. His knee pushed itself between your thighs and you jumped at the sudden pressure between your legs before you pressed down, grinding hard against him.

Your head tilted back against the wall and gripped Roger’s shoulder tightly while he gripped your hips and held you firmly against his leg, smirking against your neck when he felt you wantonly moving your hips against him. Roger’s hands rubbed along your sides, tugging on your shirt and sliding it up with his hands. His fingers felt cold and rough against the smooth skin of your stomach and the two of you briefly pulled away for him to pull your shirt over your head and toss it to the floor. Thankfully, Roger’s shirt already had most of the buttons undone, so your fingers fumbled with the remaining three and slid them down his shoulders.

You pulled away for a moment and rested your hands on his chest feeling his heart hammering against your fingers. Roger’s lips were red and swollen and his eyes were glazed over and held a dark glint behind them, “Are…um… are we going to fuck?” You asked, bashfully averting your gaze.

Roger’s thumb caressed your cheek and then traced over your bottom lip while his other held the small of your back, “If you want to, we can.” He had a small, soft smile spread across his soft features.

You couldn’t stifle the surge of deviant energy that bubbled through you, “You did say you wanted to see me bouncing on your cock.” You walked your fingers up his chest as you spoke before you traced your finger along his collarbone causing him to shiver.

Roger hummed, the rumble of his chest lightly vibrating against your fingers, “True,” He pointed out, “But, I have a feeling, Harrison wasn’t a very skilled lover” His tone was playful and light, but his words sent a contrasting shiver down your spine.

Your fingers couldn’t help but trace the top of his jeans with light feathery touches. You smiled feeling his stomach twitch against your touch before you let out a small huff of laughter, “What gave that away?” You quipped.

Roger leaned down, trailing wet mouthy kissed along your jaw and neck, sucking and dragging his teeth along the sensitive parts, “Could tell just by seeing that starched white shirt and shoes.”  

“A starched white shirt told you all that?” You mumbled, leaning your head back against the wall and fumbling with the buttons on his pants.

You felt Roger swallowing thickly as you let out a breathy sigh and ground against his leg once again. Roger’s hands ran over your clothed breasts, his thumbs flicking over the hardness of your nipples before he kneaded them in his hands, “Bet he was one of those guys who could only get you off with his mouth.” He huffed out, “I’m not though, so good thing for you.” His confidence resurfacing once again.

You shifted and palmed him toughly through the tightness of his jeans and he hissed in response before he continued kissing down your neck and buried his face between the valley of your breasts, “Prove it then.” You tried to sound intimidating, but your words morphed into a breathy sigh.

You could feel Roger smirking against the skin of your breasts before he sank down to his knees, tugging on your pants and sliding them down your legs, “I’m going to make you come with my mouth and then after I’m going to take you to my room and make you come again from my cock.” His tone was matter of fact as he nuzzled his face against your cotton panties, inhaling the natural scent of your arousal.

You looked down between your legs at Roger and your hips bucked, feeling his fingers pushing your thighs apart, he kissed along the plush skin, sucking and lightly biting as he trailed his way back up to your core. He rubbed you through your panties and you swallowed thickly, closing your eyes and resting your head back. You felt your heart hammering against your chest with anticipation and Roger’s hands tugged your panties down your legs and helped you step out of them before lifting on of your legs over his shoulder.

Roger’s finger swiped between your folds and you sharply inhaled at the feeling; Christ, it’s been way too long since someone has touched you. “Jesus, [Y/N] you’re already soaked.” Roger grinned and used his thumb to rub harsh circles around your clit before inserting two long fingers into your core. He pumped them in and out at a deliberately slow pace while his thumb worked against your clit at an equally agonizing rhythm. His mouth continued to lick and kiss your thighs, each time getting dangerously to your core and then trailing back down. Your legs practically trembled as you laced your fingers in his hair, desperately searching for something to anchor yourself onto.

“Rog, please,” You whined, dragging your bottom lip through your teeth and lightly bucking your hips against his hand.

He didn’t respond but answered by moving his fingers ever so slightly fasts and hooking them against your tight walls, “You hear that,” Roger’s voice sounded rough and your lust foggy brain could barely make out the lewd squelching noises that came between your legs, “You’re so wet for me, love.” He practically panted his words out.

You clenched around his fingers; your mind going blank from his fingers scissoring against your velvety walls and let out a breathy sigh while lacing your fingers through his hair. It was soft, but still stiff from the product he put in and the recent bleaching, but you didn’t care. “Please,” You whined.

Roger looked up at you and smirked, “Please what, love?” He teased.

You eyebrows furrowed and you nearly sobbed in frustration, “Touch me more,” You said wiggling your hips in hopes for him to finally burry his face between your thighs. Roger grinned triumphantly, you could feel it against the soft skin of your thighs as he once again began to kiss and lick the skin at the sides.

With each kiss he inched closer and closer to your dripping core, still moving his fingers deliberately slow. When he finally reached your core you gasped, feeling his hot breath against your entrance. “Roger,” You let your head fall back against the wall, eyes deliriously looking up at the ceiling.

He finally buried his face between your legs and flatly laid his tongue against you, dragging it across. Your knees would have buckled if it weren’t for Roger holding you tightly by the outside of your thighs and pressing hard against you.

Your skin felt like it was on fire and your chest heaved as Roger’s tongue expertly explored every sweet inch your body had to offer. Your soft breathy moans echoed off the dark apartment walls. They provided to the ever-burning fire between you and Roger.

You roughly gripped a fist full of Roger’s hair and your back arched. His tongue flicked against your swollen clit. Harrison had never made you feel like this and he would have never though of taking you in the hallway. But you couldn’t focus on Harrison right now, your mind was only filled with thoughts of pleasure from Roger harshly sucking on your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of your wet hold.

“Fuck, Roger” You rolled your hips against his face and peaked down just in time to see his cheeks hollow as he sucked particularly hard, relishing the taste of your juices. Roger’s eyes locked with yours. They were dilated and uncharacteristically dark. Your forehead had little speckles of sweat that began to paste your hair to your skin and your mouth hung slightly ajar.

Your head rolled back, and your eyebrows scrunched together before groaning. Roger flatly licked at your cunt and you ground against his tongue, applying just the right amount of pressure. He gripped your hips tightly to still your movements. You lost yourself. Digging one hand into your hair while keeping the other’s in Roger’s, you clenched around his fingers and let out a loud sob.

His pulled his mouth away and began to move his fingers excruciatingly slow, curving and brushing against your walls as they pulsated around his fingers. He watched your chest heave and your legs began to shake as he prolonged and teased you through your climax.

Your head laid slack, tilted against your shoulder, and your eyes struggled to focus as they opened. Roger was still kneeling on the floor, looking up at you with a smug smile on his face “Should we move this to the bedroom then?” He asked, there was something about Roger’s confidence that made your skin feel hotter than it already did.

You nodded your head before you spoke, “Yeah,” Your voice was hoarse

Roger slowly stood up and laced his fingers with your own. They were still damp from your moisture, but you didn’t mind, “My room,” He said squeezing your hand in his own before pulling you to his room.

He shut the door out of habit. The two of you stood facing each other in silence, your eyes locked in a sexually charged stare off before you wrapped your arms around his hips, pulled him flush against you, locking his lips with yours once more for a needy kiss. His hands cupped your face and he began to push you back until your knees hit the back of his bed. You sat down facing, your eyes parallel with his belt buckle and boldly palmed the straining bulge in his jeans. Roger’s sharply inhaled and watched you as you tugged at his belt loop and opened it, tracing his erection.

Roger grunted and his hips lightly bucked against your hand before you finally reached up and unzipped his jeans, sliding them down his legs and watching them pool around his ankles. You kissed at his exposed chest and left little kitten licks near where the band of his briefs and his skin met. You liked feeling his stomach twitch against your mouth and hearing his shaky breaths.

Your mouth finally traveled over his briefs, licking and mouthing him through the cotton before you pulled them down and helped him out of them. You tightly gripped him in your hand, feeling the heat and weight as you gave him a few strokes and went in, licking him from base to tip.

A shiver ran through Roger’s body and he ran a hand through his hair “Fuck” He grunted feeling your wet tongue swirling around his head.

You wrapped your mouth around his cock, taking him in and bobbing your head, the whiney moan that left Roger’s mouth rang like bells in your ears and you hummed against him.

His hands buried themselves in your hair and tugged at your roots as he began to push your head down. He wanted to see how far you could go. To his surprise you made it far before you gagged, “Fuck, you look so good like this,” Roger mumbled and his mouth hung open when he felt himself probing and rubbing against the inside your cheek, “Oh, shit, we got to stop.” He sounded lightly panicked and pulled away from you.

You looked up at him, your face adorned with a coy smile. Roger gripped your hands in his. His grip was shaky, and his palms were sweaty. He pulled you up and his hand came up and rested itself on your cheek, lightly rubbing under your eye and he pulled you softly against his lips. His mouth moved against yours and his tongue traced your bottom lip.  You opened it and moaned feeling his tongue rubbing against yours and began to play with the short hairs at the back of Roger neck, “Bed?” Roger asked pulling away from you.

You swallowed thickly and nodded your head, crawling on the bed and laying against Roger’s plush pillows. Your level of nakedness suddenly flooded your brain. You felt self-conscious. Nervous even. Your hands came up and covered your expose chest while you pressed your leg’s together.

You looked at Roger, your face flushed. The camera you saw him on previously did not do him justice. His skin was stained with splotches of red and his lips were slightly swollen from kissing.

“You’re staring.” Roger smirked and straddled your body.

You spread your legs, allowing him to settle between them, “Sorry.” You mumbled feeling your face begin to heat up with embarrassment. Roger reached over to his nightstand and pulled out a bottle of lube and a condom, “Lube?” You questioned.

Roger looked at your curious gaze, “Lube makes everything better, trust me.” He said carefully tearing the foil package and preparing himself.

He looked up at you, “Ready?” He asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

You inhaled deeply and nodded your head, “Yeah,” You answered.

Roger’s slick fingers easily glided between your wet folds and he stuck his fingers into you briefly, lubing your entrance for good measure. Roger knelt between your legs and rubbed his painfully hard cock between your folds, teasing you, and hissing at the warmth. He pushed in, securely holding his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyebrows furrowed with concentration.

It was truly a sight to behold.

You stared at him your mouth hanging ever so slightly ajar, letting out a shaky breath as he stretched you.

Whatever thoughts you had about Harrison at this moment were now gone. Your mind quickly replaced them with fuzzy TV static and a feeling of bliss spread from your ears to the tips of your toes.

Roger let out a strained groan as he bottomed out into your wet cunt. He sat for a moment, allowing the two of you to gather yourselves. His stagnant body caused a knot of frustration to twist itself in your gut, “Fuck, Roger, please move.” You whined wiggling your hips.

He swallowed thickly and gripped your hips in his hands, pulling out until just the tip remained inside you and then thrusting back in forcefully. Roger’s eyes didn’t leave your body. Every snap of his hips had you twisting and contorting, tugging at the bedsheets, and filling the room with sinful sounds. It caused every nerve of his to stand on end.

“Ah,” You gasped, arching your back, “Fuck, Roger.” You practically purred his name before hooking your arms under his and pulling him forcefully against you. You sighed, feeling your bodies stick together, slick with sweat and frantically kissed along Roger’s jaw.

His scruff tickled against your mouth and cheek. Roger’s hips slapped against yours rhythmically and he buried your face into your shoulder. His soft breathy moans and whines filled your ears. They were sounds you wouldn’t soon forget. “Harder” Your whispered into his ear, dragging your tongue along the shell.

He shuttered and sat back up, pulling out for a brief moment and flipping you onto your stomach. You let out a surprised yelp when you felt him pull your hips up, so your ass was in the air. He quickly stuffed himself back inside you and pulled your hips against his, meeting his thrusts.

Roger’s hand slipped into your hair, holding your face sideways and pushing it into the mattress while his hands griped the soft skin of your thighs and hips impossibly hard.

Christ, was he trying to fuck you through his bed?

The way you bounced and jerked up Roger’s mattress was enough of an answer. Roger leaned over, pressing his back against you and moving his arm around your body to fondle your breasts. You sharply inhaled, feeling his calloused fingers pinching and twisting your nipples between his fingers. Your back arched into his touch and against his chest. “That feel good, baby?” He growled into your ear/

You looked up at him, your eyes hooded and heavy with lust. You brain couldn’t form words.

His hand harshly gripped your ass before winding up and smacking it, “I said, does it feel good?” He said thrusting and emphasizing his words.

The stinging on your hind end cleared the fog for a moment, “Fuck, yes.” You hissed, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he angled his hips just perfect, hitting the spot inside you that made your toes curl.

Roger’s hand lifted your head up, forcing your back to arch as he continued to drill into you, hitting your spot several times. Your legs shook and you cried out. Your throat was sore. “Please, please, please.” You chanted in rhythm with his movements.

Roger let go of your head, and let it slump down to the mattress, “Please what?” He asked, kneading your ass in his hands. His hips staggered, he was beginning to lose rhythm.

“P-please, I…” you let out a harsh gasp when Roger’s pace slowed and his hand reached around, slowly grinding his fingers on your clit. The knot in your stomach was beginning to tighten “I… can I come, please?” Your words fell out like a prayer.

Roger smirked and began to pick up his pace once again, “Louder,” he ordered, his tone sending shivers down your spine.

“I wanna come so bad, p-please?” You sobbed out, feeling tears beginning to prick the edges of your eyes. Your stomach clenched and you squeezed your eyes shut.

Roger’s fingers messily moved back and forth on your clit, flicking the swollen nub, “I don’t know,” He purred into your ear, “It doesn’t sound like you want it bad enough.”

You could feel him grinning against your skin and your walls fluttered hesitantly around him, “Fucking Christ, Roger,” you practically yelled, “I want to come so fucking bad, please let me come.” You begged.

Roger cursed feeling your walls threatening to clench around him, “Fuck,” He cursed, digging his fingers into your hips, “Come on, baby, come for me.” He said thrusting into you and groaning as your walls pulsated around him, clenching his cock as he came.

The whine that left his lips as he slowly worked you through your climax was simply sinful.

You let your body go slack, muscles feeling tense and weak, as though you just had your very life force fucked out of you.

Roger laid on top of you, the weight of his body making you feel warm and secure as his arms surrounded you. You laid like that for a moment, listening to the sound of your breathing before Roger pulled out, tied the condom, and tossed it into the garbage can.

The side of the bed dipped as Roger climbed back onto it. You didn’t turn to look at him, you were simply too exhausted.

His hands came up, rubbing your shoulders and arms, soothing the ache that had begin to settle in them. “You good, love?” He asked, laying on his side and facing you. His fingers now traced aimlessly soft patterns on your back.

You let out a deep sigh, “Yeah,” You sounded drunk with left over pleasure as you turned and gave him a sleepy smile, “Great”

Roger couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh seeing your lazy smile. His hand brushed some of your damp hair from your face. The lull in silence wasn’t awkward, but it also wasn’t comfortable. You brain ran through a series of questions, unable to think of what to say or do next. You slid out of Roger’s bed and glanced on the floor, noting how your clothes became lost and mixed in his. That was a problem for later.

Roger sat up and looked at you with a confused expression, “Where are you going?” He quipped.

You stopped and turned towards your roommate, “I’m- uh- I’m going to clean up.” You said and pointed at your legs, “I’m covered in lube.” You tried to bite back a smile.

Roger watched you leave his bedroom and couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride seeing your legs wobble as you walked.