#k00kied0practices because k00kied0 needs work

[ongfreestyle]

Hair

[Warnings: It’s fluffy, which is new for me so excuse the mess. Also I’m a black girl and this is about hair, so I wrote this from experience. If you think you won’t be able to relate, and that bothers you, then you might wanna skip this. Also I only proofread this once sry.]

It was late at night and you were cooped up in your bathroom, practically choking on the smell of your own burnt hair. Yes, you hated doing your hair because it was thick, relatively long, and curly and sometimes matted, when wet. You preferred to let it hang out in it’s natural state for as long as possible, which was why you were in this situation now, locked away in your small bathroom, slowly, but surely, pressing out your hair.

If it were any other day, you would have let it hang out in all of its puffy glory for all to see, but tomorrow you had a job interview. Sure, you had a decent job, but your current boss was a bit of an asshole and a new job with higher pay wouldn’t hurt you. Hell, your man had a great job, but you were the more independent type, so you had to keep working not just for your money, but for your sanity as well.

This was the final interview with the boss of the company you planned to work at and you had to look presentable. While to you, thick, curly hair, styled right, looked great, so did the dreads you once had, but according to corporate standards, it was “ugly"and "unprofessional” and while you could rant about that for ages, you opted not to, but instead to fix yourself to your new bosses liking, which meant laying your edges down and getting your​ hair as flat as you could.

By now, your arms were aching and your scalp was protesting too. The iron was much too hot, but you knew this was the only way it would get done before 1am.

With a sigh, you began playing some gentle music to calm you as you continued to attack your hair with heat, grease, and some oil to keep thing under control.

The music helped you some, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you were down right miserable and would rather meet your new boss with your half-done hair than to finish it all.

Still, with achy feet from standing, you went on.

Things went smoothly from there, that is until you saw a spider, or what looked like a spider from the corner of your eye.

Immediately you dropped the flat iron on the counter and hopped backwards, hitting the wall, all to avoid the bug. After a sharp gasp you realized there was nothing to fear. In the end, it was just a tiny wad of your hair that had come out as you tried to comb through it earlier.

You​ were glad to know that it was only your hair, and not a spider bothering you, but now what was bothering you was your throat. With all the smoke you had inhaled from the fearful gasp, you had begun to cough like a madman.

It got louder and louder until you had to open the door to let in some fresh air and get some water, but your once sleeping boyfriend beat you to it. Hoseok, also known as Wonho, had opened the bathroom door and was looking at you through tired, squinted eyes.

“Babe…” He started when he saw you pathetically attempting to quiet your​ coughs. He signed and left the room then brought you some water.

“Sorry for waking you up.” You said half-heartedly because honestly it wasn’t fair that he got to rest well and you didn’t, considering this was your apartment. Sure, the whole point of him being here was so he that he could rest, because his band mates had gotten in to Overwatch and were being loud and obnoxious all night. It was fine at first, but after a week, Hoseok grew tired of the buzz and opted to sleep at your​ place.

“It’s fine.” He muttered as he took the glass of water from you and had a sip for himself. “But why are you up at this hour? Don’t you have an interview tomorrow morning?”

You pointed at your​ messy, half-done hair in annoyance.

“I have to do my hair.” You whined. “Do you?” “I do! And now I have to finish because it’s already halfway done!”

Hoseok sent a smile your way and shook his head. “Baby, you look fine with your wavy hair.”

“Of course you’d say that, I’m letting you sleep here.” “No. I mean it. Being up this late to look cute for tomorrow is-” “Extra. I know, but I can’t lose a job just because I look ‘bad’. People judge books by their covers, Hoseok.”

“Don’t I know it. All my fans think I’m a sex God.” He said with a sly smirk.

“Speaking from experience, you are a sex God, but that’s besides the point. I need to finish this. I’m nearly done.” You said as you grabbed your tools again and got back to work. You left the door open and Hoseok watched you from bed once he got there and you felt weird about it. He was staring so intently you almost wanted to shut the door so he couldn’t gaze at you anymore. This was the only down side to having him in your master bedroom. Him looking at you like you were something to explore, it almost made you nervous, but at the same time, you felt loved and like he would never grow tired of you.

After you had almost one third of your hair done, your arms were tired again and your scalp and feet were begging for a break. You weren’t willing to stop now, but Hoseok was willing to stop you.

He came over to the bathroom and looked at you as you finished up another section of hair.

“What?” “Let me.” “Huh?” “Let me finish it for you. I’ll bring you a chair and everything.” He said louder.

“Boy, you can’t-” “I can. And I will. If you let me. I’ve been watching you for a while now, I think I get it. Let me give you a break.”

You sighed and that’s how he knew he won, so he left to get a chair for you to sit in while he did the rest of your hair.

You were extremely sceptical and one hundred percent sure that you would have to micro manage him, as he began, you could tell that he had really be paying attention to the tedious steps you did to each chunk of hair. He was careful and slow and much more thorough than you expected.

Piece by piece, combing out the small sections and crushing them between two plates of heat as softly as he could. You had to admit, this wasn’t that bad, and even if his sections weren’t as flat as yours, you’d make it work in the morning. Call it volume or something.

“Am I hurting you?” He asked “No. This has never been so painless, as a matter of fact.” You replied, eyes closed as you relaxed and let him do whatever, your mind and body were tired from a long day and you were more than ready to submit, not just to life or sleep, but to Hoseok too. You were putting your hair in his hands and you trusted him, probably with more than just your hair.

After a few moments, he saw you dozing.

“Are you sleeping?” “Mmhmm.” “Why?” He wondered how anyone could sleep with a hot flat iron to their head. “I don’t know. I think it’s because I trust you.”

Hoseok probably didn’t get what you meant by that, but he took it in stride as he finished you hair.

You on the other hand knew what this meant to you. It was just hair, but it was your hair and it meant a lot to you and you took very good care of it and you hardly let anyone touch it, but here you were, nearly asleep as Hoseok combed through it and styled it. It was little things like this that made you realize how much you really loved Hoseok. How much you trusted him with your mind and body. It was a beautiful thing, really.

In your daze, Hoseok announced that he was done and that he would just carry you to try bed, since you were being mostly unresponsive at the moment. You complied and let him carry you to the unmade bed. When he set you down you opened your eyes and looked into his own deep brown irises. With a smile you confessed your love to him suddenly and he shook it off with a quiet giggle.

“You’re just saying that now.” He replied as he made his way to the bathroom​ to turn the light off and unplug the flat iron.

“Yeah, I’m saying it now and forever. I love you.”

He smiled so big when you said that.

“Then, I love you too.”

You waited until he cuddled next to you to kiss him gently and tell him goodnight. After, you two feel asleep thinking about things just as sweet as your love.

{A/N: late nights doing my hair…this happens a lot tbh and I wish I had a cutie pie like Hoseok to do it for me 😭 so that’s where this mess came from. Thanks for reading.}

[ongfreestyle]

💋💋💋

(A/N: Imagine any bias + my practice writing kiss scenes + give me feedback + I suck at writing these) Warnings: Questionable writing skills and a half-assed proofread There was a kind of fear that pooled in my stomach. It was making me nervous. It made me shake, my five foot nothing frame was swaying like palm tree in the breeze and only he could hold me steady. Only he could look at me at tell me everything he had ever wanted to say to me, just with his eyes. He was the only one I could think of kissing, the only one I had ever hoped to kiss. I wasn't let down. His hands flew to my hips and pulled me into his warmth where I lost all ability to think and breathe​ properly. His eyes asked me if I was afraid, and I was, but not of him. I was more afraid of losing him, of missing out on this moment. I was begging him not​ to let that happen. He turned his head and leaned foward, pressing his pink lips on mine in the softest way possible, all while he held me tighter so that even if my knees failed me, he wouldn't. I felt lightheaded and the pressure on my lips turned me from shocked to pleased in a matter of seconds. He pulled away ever so slowly, his lips just hovering over mine, and smiled. "You suck at kissing." He said with a small laugh.