5sos interracial preferences & Imagines

He does your hair

Happy 20th Birthday to my hubby.

Damn, ur kinda old now.

Ik, Ik. I'm late.

Wait on me Calum.

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.

Okay, I know it's been a long time but

Let's just enjoy imagine the boys styling your hair

Calum:

As apart of your everyday routine, you're seated in your chair in the bathroom trying to get your hair fixed. Your hair being coily frustrates you because you could never get it to obey.

"Can I do it?" Calum asks, watching you in the mirror.

"Do what?" You attempt to comb out your tangles.

"Style your hair," He says. "I never get to do it and I think it'll be...cute."

You raise a brow at him in confusion. "You want to fix...my hair?"

"Yeah," He says. "How hard can it be? I mean... it's just hair."

Your laughter starts off as a low chuckle and evolves into breathless laughter. After wiping away your tears you look up to Calum's serious face.

"Oh, you were serious."

He rolls his eyes. "Yes, I am serious. I can handle your hair." He scoffs. He plays with it a bit, stretching your partly matted hair.

You hand him the comb. "Okay, stylist. Have fun with this."

He spins your chair the other way, your back facing the large mirror. He takes the comb then rakes it against your scalp causing you to wince.

"Jesus, Cal. What the hell?"

"Sorry." He mumbles. "This isn't as easy as you make it look."

"Start at the ends genius,"

He mimics you behind your back but does as you say.

After a few minutes of yanking your hair, he's done.

"Tah-da!" He practically shouts in excitement. He spins you around to reveal yourself.

Your hair is set into a rudely fixed bun.

"This actually doesn't look that bad. At least you got it to stay in..." Before you complete your sentence, the elastic snaps, causing your hair to set in the same position as before.

"Sh*t," He pouts sadly. "I thought I did well."

You smile at him sweetly. "You did. Maybe... you could try a different style."

He smiles widely and begins combing your hair once again.

Michael

After your long day of shopping with a few friends, you finally go home to Michael. He was continuously texting you to come home because he was bored and the dog's company wasn't nearly as good as yours.

You rest some of your bags in the front room and go back to your car to retrieve the rest of your shopping bags. Michael being nosey is going through your bags when you return, of course.

"Babe, what's this?" He pulls out the teal hair dye.

"Seriously, you dyed your hair millions of times and don't know what it is?" You joke.