1D and 5SOS Dirty and Clean Imagines

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10. Shari & Michael

"Why does it burn?" You hissed, bringing your hands up to scratch your scalp. Michael caught both of your wrists, forcing them back in to your lap. He began to massage your head; It didn’t ease the pain but it was enough for you to calm down. "Is it supposed to hurt like that?"

"It’s bleach, Shari. Man up," he chuckled as his fingers working into your head. Despite how good it felt, you couldn’t help but squirm. The bleach really stung… And Michael was hot. You didn’t have much experience with guys—your heart raced any time one so much as brushed your hand while walking past—now you had one with his hands tangled in your hair.

"How long does it need to stay on?"

"Ah fuck," he muttered, not bothering to reply.

You began to panic, worried that your hair had started to fall out. “Michael? Michael? Oh my god is it falling out? I knew it, I knew I’d lose my hair! Oh my god this is why I wasn’t allowed to dye it and now I’m gonna be bald and—”

"Shari shut up. It’s not falling out! It just about hit your shirt because you won’t sit still. I don’t want to get blamed when it gets wrecked," you felt his hands scoop up some of the paste from your neck, "I’m going to help you take it off and give you one of my tanks, okay?"

"Uh, no."


You frowned at him in the mirror, “I’m not taking my shirt off.”

"You’re wearing a bra, right? What does it matter? That’s basically a fucking bikini top. You’ve gotta wear one of those when swimming," he scoffed as he left the room and came back with a black, cut off Doors t-shirt.

You shook you head and gripped your sides. It’d never been a secret that you were self-conscious about your stomach. You weren’t thin by any means. Yeah, you wore a bikini top, but there was always a cover up or a towel waiting for you the second you got out of the water, and that was the procedure when you were in front of family and friends. You barely dared taking the cover up off if you were at a real beach.

"Shari, your shirt is way too nice," he said as he put his hand on your shoulders and tugged lightly.

"I can get it off myself, thanks. Just go into the other room."

"Jesus you’re stubborn. You’ll actually ruin it if you do that. Just let me help."

"No Michael," venom dripped from your words.

All of a sudden he spun you around in the chair, strong hands white knuckled against the arm rests. His eyes searched yours for some hint of what was going on in your head. Slowly, the defensive snarl his lips turned to melted away into an easy going, comforting, smile. “You’re self-conscious, aren’t you? If it helps, I’ll take off my shirt.”

"Oh Jesus fucking Christ. That’d make me even more embarrassed," you blurted bluntly, and he began to roar.

"You know, I’m not trying to get in your pants or cop a feel, Shari, as much as I’d like to. Seriously, there’s no judgement," he grinned at you, and you sighed, lifting your arms above your head. He passed you his shirt and told you, "I’ll close my eyes once your shirt is safe. I don’t care if this one gets bleach on it, alright?"

You thanked him, heart racing at how gentle he was. You didn’t expect it, especially coming from a guy with spiked hair and combat boots.

Tentatively, he lifted off your shirt, hands extra careful not to touch your skin. As soon as it was off, he twirled around, folding your shirt as he hummed along to Greenday’s ‘Holiday’ that’d started to play on the radio.

Even though he’d said it didn’t matter, you were still somewhat careful while putting his shirt over your head. “I’m dressed,” you mumbled, looking down at yourself. You hadn’t really expected the shirt to fit. Michael was a hell of a lot thinner than you, but maybe it was just the height that made it seen that way, because the t-shirt fit, with extra room to spare.

"Hmmm," he winked and licked his lips as he looked you over, "They weren’t joking."

"Uh… Who?"

"People. When they said cute girls look even hotter in a guy’s tee." You let out a long whine and giggled involuntarily as you hid your head in the neck of his tank top. He was cheesy as hell. Michael rolled his eyes, beaming at you, and announced, "It’s time to take out the bleach, babe."

"Finally!" You jumped up in excitement. With haste, you knelt down and stuck your head over the bath tub. You reached for the tap, but Michael beat you to it. He curled himself around you from behind and shoved your head under the tap, making quick work of rinsing out the dye. You silently prayed that your face was going to be red from bending over, because if it wasn’t, there would be no way to hide the blush that would be on your face when you got up. You could feel every little muscle in his stomach pressed against your back. It didn’t help that he was basically straddling you… Dirty thoughts. There was no way to not let the dirty thoughts about the position you two were in, in.

"Now, you probably don’t want to look in the mirror. It’ll be a shock. Sooo I want you to close your eyes while I bring you to the kitchen and I’ll put the colour in, yeah?" Michael flattened both hands on your spine to let the hair drip dry before he wrapped it up in a towel. You nodded, closed your eyes, and stood up, letting him manoeuvre you around with his hands at your hips. He plunked you down in another computer chair and ran back to the bathroom to grab the dyes. "Get ready to fall in love. With your new hair, of course," he mused as he cracked open the purple dye.


"Michael, it’s perfect!" You squealed when he finally allowed you to look I the mirror. Your large curls were pitch black, but when you moved, hints of purple poked through.

It was better than you’d ever imagined. You felt completely at home in your body for the first time in your life.

"I know I am," he smirked. You rolled your eyes and launched yourself at him, hugging him tightly. Surprised, Michael fell backwards onto the couch, tightening his grip on your hips, "Wow, I didn’t know you liked it that much, Shari."

You tilted your head to the side and slapped both hands onto his face, pinching his cheeks. You bit your lip and stared at him after a few giggles and pathetic attempts to dislodge your hands.

Breathing felt like a chore as you sat there, intently focused on his eyes. Your chest felt like it was constricting…

You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning forward and softly pressing your lips to his forehead.

"Wanna know what else you could do to show me how much you like your new hair?" Michael nuzzled his nose against your chin, "Go a little lower."

"Fine," you smirked. Michael closed his eyes and puckered his lips. Instead of going for the mouth, you kissed the tip of his nose and began to giggle, "Sorry bub, don’t kiss before the first date."

"Well then, looks like I’ll have to take you out, won’t I? What’s your number?"

"Wait, you’re serious?" You sat back on his knees. Yeah, you’d begun to like the guy, but he was famous, apparently. It’s not as if you’d expected this to be anything but a one time deal.

"Does that surprise you, Shari?"

"Actually it does. This can’t be the first time you’ve picked up a girl in a random pit stop." And again, you mentally punched yourself for being too blunt. "Wait, I didn’t mean…" you squirmed out of his grip and fell backwards on to the floor, feet caught under his thighs.

Michael began to roar and opened his mouth to respond, but the bus door burst open and three rowdy boys tumbled into the room.

"Fucking hell, Mikey! If you’ve got a bird you’re supposed to tie a sock on the door, mate!" A guy with the deepest dimples you’d seen stood over top of you, "She’s a beaut, Mikey. Team cock block is here to save her from you. I’m Ashton, by the way." Ashton sat beside you and threw his legs up into Michael’s lap, groaning wantonly and winking at you.

"Oh for Christ sake, Ashton, leave them alone," a blonde guy with a lip ring grabbed Ashton’s arms and tried to drag him away.

"Luuuuke," Ashton whined, "I just wanna playyyyy. Calum, help me out here."

The last guy, Calum, flung himself at Luke and the two of them toppled across both you and Ashton. You lit up and wrestled with the boys. It was like being at home with your brothers again.

"Can we keep her? It’s kinda fun having a girl around," Calum yelled out as he tackled you to the ground.

Michael’s face appeared in your vision, “Still think I do this all the time? Boys don’t even know how to act around a lady.”

"Here," you pulled you phone from your pocket and threw it at him, "I don’t know how much longer you’re in town… but it doesn’t matter really. I can always use another friend… Or four."

Ashton pushed Calum off you and began to lick your face, “We live here! By the way, what’s your name?”

"It’s Shari. How did I not know who you guys were if you went to school here…?"

Ashton shrugged, “Did you live under a rock?”

You thought back to your past and nodded, “Basically…”

"Well," Michael interjected and pulled you out from under the pile of boys, "Now that that’s out of the way, I have to steal Shari so she can dye my hair."

"Oh yeah," Calum threw his dirty socks at Michael, "Good excuse. Steal the cutie so she can’t fall for one of us."

"Damn straight, Calum," Michael chuckled as he pulled you towards the bathroom. When you turned the corner, he stopped, bending slightly to look into your eyes, "You are still up for dying my hair, aren’t you Shari?"

You rolled your eyes and playfully tugged at his hair. “If you trust me with it.”

Michael clunked your foreheads together and whispered, “As long as you tug it like that, I’d let you do anything…”

"I KNEW IT!" Calum’s muffled voice came from the TV room, "Mikey’s a kinky fucker!"

"Fuck you guys!" Michael laughed, grabbed your hand, and led you the rest of the way to the bathroom. He plunked down in the computer chair you’d used and tore off his shirt, crossing his arms expectantly, "Show me what you’ve got, babe."
Hey Shari I'm gonna make u anoder 1 cuz im too damn tired and my ovaries exploded on that last imagine :(...sorry little potato
potato's gonna potate so keep potateing


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