Trap House Imagines

Eyebrows - Colby Brock

I am NOT taking requests on Wattpad, if you want to have a request done, you'll have to go to my Tumblr; LightenUpBrock. This is just so I keep my priorities straight.
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Summary; "Can you do one where Colby just asks you to do his eyebrows since your both bored and he finished editing?"

Warnings; swearing

Word Count; 900 words

Pronouns; Female

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"I'm done!" Colby cheers, throwing his earbuds onto his computer keyboard.

The sound of rolling wheels makes you open your eyes and look at your boyfriend, who's pushed himself away from his desk entirely, and he's by his couch instead.

Colby stretches, letting out a small groan as he slowly relaxes into his chair, slumping into it entirely. To the point where he's almost slipped out of it.

"Nice," you smile at him, giving him a thumbs up, before closing your eyes again, "I'm going back to my nap."

"No," he drags out the word, and the chair starts rolling again, but you can tell that he's standing up now.

A second later, he's jumped onto the bed next to you, disrupting your comfortable state, and forcing your heartbeat to pick up. Opening your eyes, you turn to give him a look of death, telling him that he'll regret doing that later tonight. When he's trying to sleep and you're jumping onto the bed next to him.

Colby shrugs, before crossing his arms underneath him slightly, and pressing his face into his pillow. He then starts to fake snore, and you roll your eyes as you turn over.

"Jackass," you mutter, and Colby shifts beside you.

"Come on," Colby says, throwing his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him, "You love me."

"I'm trying to nap," you sigh dramatically, leaning against him slightly, "And you're making it difficult."

"I know you're not tired," Colby says, kissing your cheek. When you don't say or do anything back, he starts to kiss you again, trying to make you laugh.

"Get off of me," you push him away from you, but his grip on you just turns you on top of him.

"Do my eyebrows." He says, and you look at him funny.

"What?"

"I said, do my eyebrows," he smiles, and then he reaches up and straightens them out, "Make them pretty again."

"You complained last time," you set your head against his chest, closing your eyes, "And you screamed like a little bitch."

"You thought it was funny," Colby defends, "And who cares? I know you want a little bit of payback."

"You're right," you roll off of him, catching yourself on the floor and stretching yourself, "I'll get my stuff from the bathroom. Sit on the couch or something."

"Alrighty." Colby says, and he gets up as you leave the room.

Just in time for Sam to come out of his room, and you two are at a standstill for the bathroom.

"I need my tweezers." You tell him.

"Go ahead, then." Sam motions towards the bathroom, and you smile at him kindly as you head in and grab the tweezers really quick, "What are they for?"

"Colby's eyebrows." You grab your mirror while you're at it, before leaving the bathroom and heading into the bedroom again, "Why do you think his eyebrows look good all the time?"

"Natural," he muses, following you in and sticking in his head, "Wanna do mine next?"

"You won't like it," You laugh at Sam, "Colby doesn't even really like it, but he wants to be in tip-top shape for the eyebrow game."

"Damn right." Colby says, smiling at Sam, "I'm sure Katrina would like to do it anyway. For all the times that you don't spend time with her."

Sam deadpans, flipping off Colby as he leaves the room, "Goodbye."

He shuts the door, while you and Colby start laughing. Colby settles on the couch, and you plop down next to him.

"Swear to god, one word of complaint—"

"I won't," Colby says, but the second the first one is pulled, there's a string of profanity out of his mouth, followed by a complaint.

"You're such a liar," you laugh, pulling another.

"Give me a warning!" he yells, wincing slightly.

You laugh to yourself as you pull one, and then before he can say anything; "I'm doing it."

He laughs, closing his eyes and you can see a tear roll down his cheek, "You're such a bitch sometimes."

"Are those tears of pain?" You laugh, and he nods.

"I'm not crying, I promise. It's literally my eyes watering. I can handle tattoos—I can handle this." He says, "Go again."

You do what he says, and he continues to tell you to keep going. That the faster is the better.

"Here—take the mirror. Tell me when to stop," you laugh, "I think I might leave the monobrow."

He snorts, and then chokes on his own spit. And before he can take the mirror, his head smacks into it. And suddenly you're both laughing at his small mistake.

"This was a bad idea," you laugh, wiping your own tears from laughing so hard.

"Keep going," Colby wheezes, "We can't stop now."

"Are you sure?" You ask him.

"Yes, now go!"

You start laughing in the middle of pulling one, making it a little more painful than you'd originally intended it to be.

"I'm suing."

"When I'm done—on your insta you should go; 'new eyebrows who dis'." You laugh, placing your head against his arm and he starts to laugh too when you won't stop.

"You have the worst ideas."

"I know." You push off of him again, and before you go back to what you were doing, he kisses you.

"To many more times of plucking my eyebrows."