Homestuck X Reader PART 2

Hair (Jade X Troll!Reader)

I used to hate my hair.

It would get tangled in the branches of the island's forests, and Grandpa would have to comb it out with sharp jabs to my head. He would curse and I would cry, the knots getting too tight to do anything more than cut them out. I never liked my hair being up, so that's the consequence of having it free. 

I still hated my hair when we finally played that SBURB game. Hairbands became a rare commodity, not that my tender scalp liked the pull and tug a ponytail demanded. I asked several times for Roseto to help me put my hair into a plait, but it never stuck, despite the thickness being able to keep other things in my hair. I used Dave's sword several times to chop it off jaggedly, instead of a beautifully impossible straight cut like Mulan in that one scene. 

My hair was a nuisance even after I met the trolls, including Y/n. She seemed fascinated with how much hair I had, always trying to touch it. Her hair would grow, she would tell me, but nothing as soft or as wild as mine. It was flattering to have someone looking at me, but I still disliked having to attempt to brush it day by day.

I hated it until she offered to brush it out one night. I was sitting in front of her, only the three of us on the ship soaring through the timelines. John was able to show moves on his computer that he still miraculously had, and while I'm not a huge fan of Nic Cage, Y/n hadn't seen any of the movies featuring him. She grew bored rather quickly. 

"Jade, can I brush your hair?" She asked, and it had me startled at first, but I let her. I took out a brush from my capthalogue and she went at it. Her claws were heaven, screatching at my scalp and lightly taking apart knots scattered through my hair. She used water to wet down my hair and brushed it until the movie was completed. I've never had it softer or silkier.

She would always ask from then on. I made an extra brush for her in her favorite color, and she would take a seat on a stool while. I sit between her legs, either reading or watching a movie. She would so neatly take apart a knot and always whisper an apology if she was particularly rough in a spot. I would melt with each touch, the feeling making my face flush and a dopey smile was on my face, every time without fail. John would sneak photos of us, and he sent a few of them to me. It was so domestic, so soft. It's my lock screen now.

One day, she placed a kiss on the top of my head after finishing her daily brushing. My face had never felt warmer. I looked up at her, and her b/c was so evident on her face, spreading along her cheeks and even on the tips of her ears. 

"Was that alright?" She had asked, her voice wavering with uncertainty. I had smiled and sat up to kiss her properly. She made a little chirping sound, something I've learned trolls do when they get startled, but she quickly sunk into the warm feeling, her eyes closing. We parted and her grin was ferocious with her gleaming fangs, but so sweet and beautiful as well.

I love my hair now, and I love her hands weaving through it.