Long hair (no bra) It's my type (that's right) Dina Woodward x fem!reader
summary: Dina was your best friend and the only person who could ever make you laugh until you couldn’t breathe. Your friendship was simple and full of life. You two saw every part of each other. The good, the bad, and the ugly. The only part of Dina you hadn’t seen before was her with her hair down. She seemed to always have her hair up 24/7. You didn’t mind it, you barely even noticed it until now.
basically I thought it'd be fun to write a short drabble about seeing Dina with her hair down for the first time since we never get to in the game
trigger warning for the beatles but thats all
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You two were in your room enjoying a typical Tuesday night as your music blasted at medium volume. You sat on your bed eating potato chips, watching Dina as she danced around. A light smile graced your face as you watched her shimmy her body and sing along to the upbeat music of The Beatles. She’d been doing this for an hour straight and you had no idea how she had so much energy.
Your hand was deep into the chip bag when her hair tie came loose, causing her ponytail to sag. She stops dancing, breathless and sweaty as she takes the tie out and rakes her fingers through her dark hair. You froze. Your eyes widened and lips parted slightly as you stared at her. Her hair reached down just past her shoulders and framed her face so beautifully. The black hair contrasting so well with her brown skin. You almost gulp. She gave you a confused, funny face.
“What?” She smiles and raises her eyebrows at you. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, heat rising to your cheeks.
“Nothing-I uh…just never seen you with your hair down before.” You manage to smile and hope to God that your cheeks aren’t rosy. She gives you an incredulous look before smiling again.
“I guess you’re right huh?” She flops down onto the bed and snags the potato chip bag away. Leaving your hand with chip crumbs and salt.
“Well, what do you think?” She asks, wiggling her eyebrows. “Do I look good?” You almost choke.
“yes, yeah, yes you look beautiful uh I mean yknow pretty yeah you look great.” You stumble over your words, obviously flustered, but if she notices she says nothing about it.
“Why thank you.” She pretends to be bashful, putting her hand lightly over her heart. You just nod and try to focus on anything but her. For some reason you were incredibly aware of her presence, the smell of her sweat and natural scent, the heat radiating off her.
She gets up again to dance, getting ready to sing I Want To Hold Your Hand and you just stare at her like she’s the only thing on earth. And you realize, maybe this once simple friendship was about to get a little complicated.
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