Genre: Fluff/Angst Warnings: Angst, bashing SM (sorrynotsorry), probably wrong representation of photography industry don’t bash me. Insinuations of sex, but no actual smut. Pairing: Reader x Yixing/Lay Wordcount: 2648 A/N: This is my goodbye to this series, the first series I finished on this blog. I hope you guys enjoyed it and enjoy this part. Send me some feedback!
With Yixing you had definitely gotten so much more than you bargained for. So much more, and only in a good way. Especially when you found yourself panting in his arms, heart hammering in your chest as he chuckled against your ear. He was drawing soft shapes on you bare hip under the covers, propped up on one arm to look at you. The look of love and desire in his eyes made you shiver, and you pulled him down for a kiss. Capturing his lips with yours, and he growled softly as you bit his lip. He deepened the kiss, rolling over you. The delicious feeling of his skin on yours rose goosebumps on your arms, and still sent sparks down your spine. Where he was so sweet and gentle, his tongue was devilish, and he could make you moan by just kissing you. And right now that was just what he was doing as he massaged your tongue with his, hands finding the place on your hips where his fingers left bruises earlier.
if they could change one thing about their bodies, what would it be
like to have blue eyes! Or green… anything but boring old brown eyes.”
(a playful pout)
hesitation) “Taller than Oikawa.”
Hanamaki: (a wry
laugh) “What, just one thing?
Ha, that was a little too self-deprecating,
huh? I was just joking…” (seriously now) “Um, I’d like Oikawa’s
eyes. Geez, that sounds like a horror movie. I mean, nice big eyes like his. I
don’t want to literally take his
eyes. Ugh.” (he shivers and makes a disgusted face, having grossed himself
wish my hair was easier to manage. Not such a mess all the time, y'know?”
“Strong enough to beat Iwaizumi-senpai.”
at his hands in mild irritation) “I’d like to not have to moisturize my
hands. If they could just stay…well, not moist, yuck. Just, well, not dry out
and get all sandpapery and awful.”
I wish I was taller, I suppose. But other times I like being short… I’d like
to have dimples, I think! Yes, that’s much better.”
perseverance? I guess that’s not really a body thing. More stamina then.”
Kunimi: “I wish I could not have to, like,
sustain my body. I mean eating and going to the bathroom and showering and
stuff. Waste of my time, really.”
I stood nervously in front of the mirror, combing my fingers through my newly dyed hair strands for the hundredth time today. I took a strand roughly between my fingers before tossing it back. I huffed a deep sigh and frowned to myself.
I was the type to make decisions on a whim. If I wanted to hop in my car and take a two hour drive to nowhere, I had no problem doing that at the drop of a dime. Granit liked to call me spontaneous and most importantly, crazy. I simply laughed every time he insisted such.
But now I could see what he meant as I stared at myself in the mirror, observing my very new and very different appearance.
I had been surfing the internet randomly last night and somehow found myself looking at different hair colors, styles, and cuts. I was so used to my boring, long brown hair that seeing anyone with anything remotely different made me anxious to change my own hair strands.
And so I did.
I settled on a dramatic blonde color that, to be fair, seemed to contrast beautifully with my skin tone. It was just now I didn’t have my long locks to hide behind. Instead my hair now stopped above my shoulders in a bob style I was not used to.
I had long hair for practically all of my life. I couldn’t remember a time where I wasn’t fussing with my strands as I tried to wash them in the shower. There were times it aggravated me and all I wanted to do was take a dull pair of scissors and snap away those ends but somehow I had avoided such dramatics.
I scheduled an ‘emergency’ appointment with my hair stylist and rather than getting my usual wash and trim, my brown locks went blonde and the hair that stopped down my back was now inches shorter. What was the scariest thought was I hadn’t even told my boyfriend my plans. It would truly be a surprise when he walked in the door and that scary moment was probably only a few minutes away as he had text me 30 minutes ago to tell me he was on his way to my place.
His approval meant a lot to me and if he dare even flinched, I’d probably end up in a puddle of tears. He had a fascination with my hair, always complimenting me on how the long strands fell down around my face and how he loved the deep brown color that only seemed to lighten in the summer. Even when he was sleeping or close to sleep, he’d pull me close and run his hands through my hair.
Now he barely had anything to run his fingers through.
I turned from my own stare in the mirror as I heard my living room door shut which let me know he was here. A dramatic gulp ran down my throat as I heard his steps nearing and I simply stood still where I was staring at the door he would enter.
“Did you already—“ His statement ended abruptly and his steps fell to a halt as soon as he reached my bedroom doorway and was able to see me.
That was not the reaction I wanted. At all.
I gave a meek smile. “Did I already what?” I figured it best to maybe deflect for a moment but Granit wasn’t much up for that idea.
“Your hair…” He now began to move closer to me, his eyes not giving me a specific emotion to let me know whether he was horrified or delighted.
I’d go with horrified.
Self-consciously, my hands went up to where his eyes drifted. “Is it that bad?”
It seemed at that moment he caught himself and realized how his reaction had probably come off. “No, no. It’s not bad at all. Just…different.”
“Different is usually code for bad.”
He cracked a smile and shook his head. “Not this time. You look fucking stunning. Wow.”
I felt a little more relaxed with that reaction as I blushed in response. He simply took my chin into his hand and lifted my chin to look directly at him, his lips meeting mine for a few passionate pecks.
Well sheesh, he seemed happy.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. Wow.” He stepped back for a moment to look me up and down, though aside from my hair the rest of me was casual as I wore a pair of jeans and a fitted t-shirt of his.
“Am I stunning enough to maaaybe get you to take me out for dinner tonight?” I playfully batted my eyelashes and giggled, causing him to laugh along. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around my waist, peering down at me.
“With that hair, you can get everything you want.”
Fancy parties with the obscenely rich and her hovering parents are a part of her life Pacifica’s come to expect by now. Fancy parties with her now 6-foot-tall boyfriend in a tux? Not so much. Dancing would be so much easier if she didn’t have to look up at him now.
Or Dipper and Pacifica go to a ball, and it goes about as well as everyone’s expecting.