NOTICE: Ok, so, this one is a GD one. And, before you all start whining and about it, I know it's not a fluffy, lovey dovey one, but I've already stated that this fic would be different. In this chap, GD and OCs relationship is kind of different to what everyone expects/wants a relationship to be, but I think it's cute, and I'd love a relationship as laid back as this, so it up and just enjoy it. Also, naughty words and naughty themes in this, I warned you. And, another also, no, it's not an abusive relationship, it's called banter. One final also, try to imagine GD in his Crayon era with this chap.

When he Dyes your Hair

All excitement that you were once experiencing just minutes ago had plunged into oblivion, now allowing doubt to explode from your heart. You were scared, no, scratch that; you were ting yourself. About 20 minutes ago, you had a crazy, spontaneous urge to bleach your hair, and then dye it a whacky colour... But of course, you didn't know the first thing about hair colour, so you called for the help of your trusty boyfriend, the only person you know who has managed to dye his hair 20 different colours in one year. Most people prepare for when they colour their hair, but you know that wasn't necessary in the slightest; Jiyong's collection was vast. Extremely vast.

"Yah, sit still you little ." Jiyong's whining tore through your busied mind as his hand held the top of your head, keeping you from fidgeting any more.

But you couldn't help it, you were so nervous, and although you were probably in the best hands for this job, you needed reassuring, just anything to make you feel better.

"Jiyong-ah..." You started, dropping your gaze to your crossed legs, the black swivel chair shaking with your trembles.

"Mm, what's up, baby girl?" He replied with a clear lack of interest as he brushed and parted your hair, tying it into sections.

"Whenever you do your hair, it always turns out the way you expect it to, right?" You asked with uncertainty, turning your head around to face him.

"Yah, what are you doing?! I said stay still!" He yelled, grabbing your head with two firm hands and turning it to face the front. "And to answer your question, no. I just do it and hope for the best."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, you whipped your head around to face Jiyong again, your heart palpitating with panic and your breathing shallow.

"W-what?" You stammered breathlessly.

Jiyong's eyes narrowed into tiny slits and angrily, he launched the brush across the open-plan kitchen, it landing somewhere in the living room. He slowly circled your chair, glaring at you with impatient eyes. He then stopped in front of you and dropped to his knees, his gaze leveled with yours.

"Do you want me to do this, or not?" He pressed, his voice sharp, obviously holding back the raging curses he wanted to release.

You nodded quickly, and leaned forward to press a quick kiss on the tip of his nose. Immediately, his stern exterior melted and he returned the gesture with a peck on your forehead.

"Now be a good and fetch me that hairbrush." He demanded with a flick on the nose.

"How about you go yourself." You retorted and poked your tongue out.

He just stared at you with no expression, his arm held out and his middle finger slowly saluting as he backed away towards the living room, his gaze never leaving yours. Even when he bent down to get the brush, his middle finger was still standing tall, his glare still piercing you with hatred.

"Stop being a little and get the damn brush!" You scolded, growing impatient with his stupid act.

"How about you go yourself." He imitated you with a squeaky, high-pitched voice and exaggerated facial expressions.

You then copied him, and it turned into an all out imitation war, the pitches get squeakier each time until his voice finally cracked. You let out a triumphant "Ha!" and beckoned him over with your index finger, to which he obediently followed and returned to his previous position behind you, brushing the final section into place.

"Right," he started, walking round the chair to look you in the eye. "I'm gunna start mixing the bleach in a sec, when it's on your head, it'll hurt like a , and the smell is ing nasty, but you'll get over it. And I'll be fine too, I mean, I've had to share a bed with you after eating Indian so..."

Your western eyes narrowed to impossibly tiny slits, making Jiyong his pants as he quickly darted behind you and mixed up the bleach. You grinned in triumph and made a whipping sound along with raising your arm up, pretending you had an imaginary whip, to which he just snorted at.

"I hope this ing burns." Jiyong half-whined as he slapped the mixture onto the back of your head, making you jump, the coldness of the bleach seeping into your scalp.

"If you this up I'm filing for a divorce." You seethed through your chattering teeth.

"I guess we better get married first, then?" He quipped, still slapping the mixture onto your head.

"I would never marry you. You're repulsive." You argued back, wrinkling your nose as the smell of bleach and cat piss invaded your nostrils.

"Watch what you say, missy. I have the power to destroy your hair if you're not careful." He scolded, hints of playfulness strung in his words.

You shut up, deciding not to risk your precious hair by being obnoxious.

"Of course, oppa. I love you very, very much." You tried your best at a sickly sweet voice.

"Oppa loves you too," he returned, leaning over you to plant a kiss on your forehead. "Ah, son of a !"

You jumped at his sharp swearing, suddenly panicked that he messed up your hair.

"What? What did you do?" You asked, almost hyperventilating.

But when you turned around, Jiyong was no longer behind you.

"." You swore under your breath, not knowing whether to go after the runaway Jiyong or to just stay put.

Panicking over your half finished hair, you got up and went on a mission to find him.

"Jiyong you better get the back here and finish my hair before I ruin any chance of you reproducing!!!" You called through the hallways as you checked each room.

You now actually started to hyperventilate, the bleach was now singing your scalp, and what about your hair?! It'll ing snap off if this isn't rinsed soon. You rushed down the hallway, finally stopping in the bedroom.

"Jiyong-ah?" You called again, popping your head round the door to be met with his .

"Mm?" He turned to face you, cradling the shirt he was wearing just minutes ago in his arms.

"What are you doing? My scalp is about to melt off! Come and ing rinse this !" You scolded, jumping up and down to emphasise your point.

"How could you be thinking about your hair at a time like this?!" He retorted, to which you just cocked your head at, not understanding what he meant. "There is bleach on my one of a kind Giyongchy shirt!!!"

Wow.

Is he ing serious?

You glared at him for a good thirty seconds before lunging at him and grabbing his earlobe, dragging the kicking and screaming Jiyong down the hallway and back into the kitchen, almost throwing him towards the abandoned bleach.

"Finish my hair! Now!!" You screamed, not caring that you sound like a four-year-old who didn't get their ice-cream.

"Okay, okay! Christ..." He breathed, shoving you back into the chair and slapping more of the bleach onto your hair.

After spending the next 20 minutes with a topless Jiyong burning your scalp with that toxic clay mixture. Finally he had coated all four sections and now had you bent over the sink, rinsing the first two sections under the cold tap, his crotch pressed awkwardly against your behind. Every now and then, he'd pretend to be taking you doggy style, to which you just kicked him in the shin for.

"Yah, you wouldn't be complaining if this was for real." The pout was evident in his whining voice.

"Yah, you wouldn't be complaining if this was for real." You imitated, and just like that you were in another imitation war, you of course, out-squeaking him.

And him, being the sore loser he was, decided to spray you in the face with the tap. The cold water hitting you hard, stinging your skin and causing your mascara to stream down your cheeks.

"I hate you." You growled, your bottom lip jutting out so far you could trip on it.

"Love you too, baby girl." He cooed, earning him another growl.

Finally, the water was turned off and Jiyong was now toweling the wet section of your hair dry. Almost immediately after, he applied toner to that section, and rinsed the other half off.

Half an hour later, Jiyong had finished rinsing the last section of hair and was now blow drying it in your shared bedroom.

"Want to take a look, jagiya?" He asked you with excitement as he turned off the roaring device.

You nodded eagerly, half excited, half scared to death. To your sudden surprise, he scooped you up off the bed and ran across the room to the full length mirror.

Gently propping you on your feet, his arms s around your waist and his head was resting on your shoulder.

"What do you think?" He asked, clearly smug over the results.

Your hair was white, with purple and blue tones running through it where the toner had pigmented it more in those certain areas. A grin crept over your lips. You were shocked, but felt so free. You loved it. The way it complimented your light eyes and pale skin. You ran your fingers through the lengths of it, jumping up and down as you burst with excitement.

"Oh, Jiyongie, Jiyongie, Jiyongie! I love it!" You half-squealed.

Jiyong suddenly spun you around in his hold and faced you with a huge, arrogant grin.

"You look unbelievable." He whispered breathlessly, showering your face with kisses.

Your heart thundered in your chest at his words and you swivelled back around to admire his work of art.

"You know, we kind of look like twins." You pointed out, observing his similar coloured, but much, much shorter hair.

He cocked his head, flicking his eyes from you to himself, contemplating.

"Mm," he started, nodding his head with a brow raised. "If only was legal..."

Immediately, you broke out of his hold, glaring at him with utter disgust, to which he just chuckled and pulled you to the bed, his lips now locked with yours in a soft, loving kiss.