Hey... can i make request with you sweetheart? I was thinking.... Since i want dreads but everyone hates themmmm... Coming home with dreads and Dewey lovin them? Comforting you cause he knows a lot of people dont like them? Thanx love 🧡
love love love this request so much🥺 I hope this is okay my lovely, never let anyone change who you are! And Dewey Finn would 100% say to do whatever the hell you want and to stick it to the man if they don’t agree🤘🏻
Also, your aesthetics never fail to amaze me @thewolfisapartofmysoul 🧡
You were high on life when you drove your car home from the hairdressers. You had actually done it. You had been talking about it and thinking about it for so long, but so many people had put you off with their negative comments.
Dewey had told you to fuck em. They mean nothing to you and do it for you and you only. So there you were. Driving to meet Dewey back at the house. With a whole new style.
You had finally went and got dreadlocks.
You did have a little anxiety about it. You knew some of your family and friends wouldn’t be best pleased, and what if Dewey secretly hated them?
No, no Dewey loves me for me. Not for what I look like. He’s not shallow. He’s not.
You convinced yourself as you walked into your shared house.
Dewey was already home. It was Saturday and he didn’t work Saturdays. You told him you had an early shift today so he wouldn’t know and it would be a surprise.
You tried to be as quiet as possible, but that damn musician heard everything.
“honey? Is that you?” he called from the back of the house.
You silently cursed your clumsy self for dropping the keys. “yeah babe it’s me”.
“you’re early! I’m in the conservatory – come join me for snuggles when your comfortable baby!” he enthused.
You smiled at how cute your fluffy rock star was. He loved it when you got away early. “I’ll be two mins dew!” you replied as you rushed to the bedroom.
You quickly changed into some joggers and one of Dewey’s band tees, running your hand through your new hair before you left the room, making sure it was sitting alright. It felt so different. You loved it.
You skipped through to the conservatory, with a bag of sour patch kids you picked up from the store (they were Dewey’s favourite), excited and a little anxious to see what Dewey would say.
You appeared in the doorway, you crossed your feet and held the sweets behind your back. Acting all cute.
“hey baby..” you started.
Dewey looked over at you from the couch. He sat up, ready for you to join him.
“hey sweetheart how was- oh. My. Gosh.” His eyes widened when he noticed your hair, and a smile creeped onto his face and ended in a little blush. He liked it a lot.
“watcha gawking at handsome?” you joked, swaying side to side.
Dewey could not take his eyes off of you, he was practically drooling.
“oh, you know, only my smoking hot, dread-head girlfriend.. come plant that sexy lil ass over here please” he tapped his hands on his thighs, practically begging you to join him.
You held up the sour patch kids in front of him before you went over, shaking them lightly, teasingly.
Dewey raised his eyebrows.
“oh? And she comes bearing treats?” he smacked his lips and chuckled a little.
You walked over to him, and sat on his lap, your legs straddling his thighs. Dewey’s hands instantly went to your hair, the sweets being disregarded in his mind. You put them on the couch next to you.
His fingers ran through your locks, studying them. “did they hurt?” he quizzed.
“nah not really, it wasn’t too bad – she tugged it a little now and then which kinda hurt but apart from that it was fine!” you replied, putting your hands up to his face, scratching his scruff lightly. “do you like em’?” you said anxiously.
“like em?!?!” he said dramatically. “babe.. I freaking love em’! I mean you were hot without them but, my god… do you like em’?” he asked lovingly. His hands moved down to your waist, rubbing circles on the skin underneath your (his) t-shirt.
“I love em!” you gleamed. “but… I’m just not sure what my friends and family will think..” your excited face fell a little.
One of Dewey’s hands shot up to your face and smoothed it with his thumb.
“who cares what they think lovebug… you like it and that’s all that matters! And if they don’t like it? Fuck em’, shouldn’t matter to them anyway.. and besides… stick it to the man, right?” he smiled into your eyes. He brought your head forwards and kissed your hairline.
“your right Dew, stick it to the man..” you grinned as you looked up at him and smiled.
“and, to me, dreadlocks are a sign of strength – almost like a lions mane.. your hair doesn’t need to be fixed, no matter what anyone says! It’s societies narrow fucking minded view that needs to be fixed! Don’t let them change you.. or rearrange you, promise? My little dread-head rebel?”.
You grinned at him, “I promise, my handsome Rockstar”.
He kissed you lovingly. Again, and again, and again.
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