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lemonlover1110 · 6 months

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𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄!

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Warnings: Pure Fluff, Razors, Shaving

Summary: Toji refuses to shave, and his girlfriend refuses to kiss him. She takes matters into her own hands to kiss her boyfriend's beautiful face again.

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji has to shave at least once per week, or else kissing him becomes a hassle. Toji’s problem is that he’s lazy, and he doesn’t like to shave. He claims it’s a waste of time and energy, and you argue about it because it prickles on your skin when you kiss… Or do anything else.

Yet, Toji complains when you refuse to kiss him. Throughout the day you randomly kiss him, something that the man has grown accustomed to, but when you notice a stubble, you avoid it. Toji notices the lack of love, and he hates it. He isn’t the tender one in your relationship, but during the sudden decline of affection, he tries to be. However, when Toji tries to kiss you, you put your hand over his mouth.

“You need to shave.” You tell him, and he frowns. You have no idea what you’ve done by declining his kiss– Oh, you’ve started a battle that you cannot end.

Rejecting his kiss is a sin in his eyes, and he’ll make sure you repent. He’ll let his facial hair grow, and you assure him that you won’t kiss him until he shaves. One of you will give up after some time without kissing, and he’s sure that it’ll be you. He won’t kiss you until you agree to kiss him with a beard (a stubble since at the bare minimum he trims it, he isn’t sure that a beard is the look for him).

He’s right, you’re a weak weak woman. By the second week, you want to jump on him and give him all your love. But he won’t listen to your pleads of shaving. You take matters into your own hands after a month.

“What’s that?” Toji asks, eyes looking up from his phone to find you holding a white plastic bag. Maybe he wouldn’t ask if you weren’t dangling it in front of him. You grab his hand and attempt to pull him up from the couch, and he stands up, a bit reluctantly. He smirks as you lead him to the bedroom, commenting, “I like where this is going.”

But then you take him to the bathroom, and force him to sit on the toilet. You get two things out of the plastic bag: shaving cream and a razor. He furrows his eyebrows before shaking his head, “I’m not doing it.”

“But I am.” There’s a certain look on your face, and he doesn’t dare challenge you because he knows that if he does, your relationship might come to an end.

You open the faucet, and you splash cold water on his skin, causing him to jump up a little. You get shaving cream all over his beard, before you grab the razor. You swipe the razor in an upward movement on his skin, and he whines, “If you’re going to do this, at least be careful and don’t cut me.”

You cut him again, and he whines again. It takes a couple more cuts before he grabs the razor from you, and goes to the mirror to do it himself. You smile at him through the mirror, and he swears it’s a demonic smile. You got what you wanted in the end.

You watch every movement through the mirror, and when Toji is finished, you squish his face. Toji scowls, and you peck his lips. You kiss him over and over again, and his face softens. You kiss his cheeks and all over his face. He would almost hate that you’ve won, if you weren’t so loving.

“I love kissing your little face.” You take a break between kisses before continuing, and Toji smiles. He has to push you off, although he’s a bit disappointed at his own actions. He wants to let you kiss him all day long, but he can’t. He has to interrupt you.

He says, “I have to grab some bandaids.”

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delusionsofgrandeur13 · 1 month

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ex boyfriend!dick grayson is distraught.

it’s been two weeks, three days, ten hours, and seven minutes since the two of you broke up. not that anyone is counting.

his days are spent with him walking around like a zombie.

batman has to practically yell into the comms link to even get a reply during patrol. dick’s not even sure he’s been putting his suit on properly. two nights ago he only went out with one escrima stick. he almost lost a fight with some goons, and one of them asked him if he had a death wish. he went home bruised, his lip bloodied, wondering if maybe he did have a death wish.

he tried going out to the store. he was out of shaving cream and eggs. dick made it as far as the produce section. he had a staring contest with the apples for ten minutes, and left without buying anything.

the first week he kept wearing hats. seeing his hair in the mirror practically made his eye twitch with the memory of you running your hands through it. he could almost hear you cooing over how nice it looks long.

“dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick you look so—”

he cuts it a week later, sick of his brothers making fun of him for the hats and sick of your voice in his ear.

he barely touches his hair now, his hands nothing compared to the way yours felt on his scalp. almost every other night he cries in the shower, thinking about the way your eyes would flash when you’d offer to wash his hair for him. you’d always bite your lip in this cute way when you slicked all his hair back, the soap fluffy in your hands. you’d wiggle your eyebrows and call him distinguished, and then pull it up into a mohawk and tell him to call up jason and ask to join the outlaws. a few nights ago he made the mistake of looking at your razor, still on the shower caddy. he cried so hard his head hurt the next morning like he’d had a hangover.

his family stops whispering when he enters rooms, their worry and concern growing more obvious by the day. alfred won’t stop feeding him. bruce keeps looking him over, his eyebrows furrowed. jason left at least four self help books on his coffee table and in his cubby in the batcave. tim took over all of the video surveillance batman had assigned him, waving him away when dick tried to insist it was okay, and that he could do it. steph wouldn’t stop high fiving him? cass hugged him, at least three times. wally tried to get him to go out, but dick drank one beer and left, walking home in the pouring rain like he was in a music video. wally took the hint, but started texting him good morning, every day. even damian stopped picking on him, instead asking to spar just so dick would have something else to think about. it didn’t work, obviously, but he’d mussed damian’s hair, giving him a wan smile on the way out of the practice room. he’d left immediately after.

he spent the rest of the day at home thinking about how he’d always let you win when the two of you would play wrestle. you had this expression you’d make right before, where your eyes would squint a little and the corner of your mouth would turn up. the whole time you’d dated, dick was never able to figure out if it was because you were about to play fight or fuck. he loved it.

his nights are full of tossing and turning.

he spent the first week not washing his sheets, sleeping face down on your side of the bed. the second week he washed his sheets every night, trying to rid his nose of the phantom smell of you. the pillowcase you used is shoved deep into his linen cabinet. he now sleeps on the couch. he had to wash all of his t shirts too, the ones you’d steal to wear to bed with nothing under. he rummaged through his dresser in his old room in Wayne Manor hoping to find ones to wear that didn’t smell like you. ones that didn’t make him think of you pulling them off in the middle of the night, to then sink down onto his cock. you’d toss it onto the ground while you straddled him, smiling down at him.

he couldn’t sit and watch tv without thinking of all the times he’d gone down on you on the couch.

couldn’t brush his teeth without seeing the last time he’d bent you over the sink, thrusting into you while your breath fogged the bathroom mirror.

he couldn’t go out to eat at any of the restaurants by his apartment without seeing the two of you at a table, you stealing one of his fries or swapping sandwiches to try the other’s order.

he still couldn’t go to the little family-owned grocery store, not when the old couple that ran it knew both of you by name.

couldn’t look at his keys without seeing the keychains you’d bought him.

his every waking moment was spent with thinking of you, all you, always you.

you were everywhere,

he thought about how you’d beamed when he’d first asked you out, your eyes shining when you’d nodded yes.

how surprised you’d looked when he finally told you he was nightwing, and how you made him pinky swear to be careful.

he couldn’t appreciate enough how you had always been gracious when he’d show up late to dates, bruce always needing his help with something or other.

he thought of the way you’d looked washing the dishes, up to your elbows in suds when he’d roll in from the window, coming up behind you to kiss you and push you over to the couch while he’d finished the dishes, still in his nightwing suit.

what you’d looked like when you opened the promise ring he got you, and showed you his matching one. you’d both gotten teary eyed then.

the way you tried to hide the fact you’d been crying when he came home from patrol one night.

when your expression would change after he’d tell you he had to miss a family dinner at your mom’s house. you thought he wouldn’t notice but c’mon, he was trained by batman.

how your face had crumpled like his heart did when he had realized what he needed to do. when he had said he loved you more than anything, but knew that you deserved to be treated better, and that he couldn’t give you that right now. couldn’t give you all of his time like he wanted to.

you’d accepted it, nodding while tears slipped down your cheeks silently, walking out of his apartment to go stay at your mom’s house.

it’d been two weeks, three days, ten hours, and seven minutes, yet dick hadn’t accepted it. and your toothbrush was still next to his. so he didn’t think you’d really accepted it either.

but yet, you were now nowhere.

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sinsandsweetness · 10 months

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something about hyperfeminine reader x rick.... another anon said he'd adore pink nail polish & i so totally agree. maybe cause he's so rough and sharp edged? and it's the very opposite of him? so the pretty pink skirts & sweet perfume you always wear would make his brain fuzzy in the best way !! 🤧

using this as an excuse to write something extremely self indulgent 🤍 obsessed with this sweet, girly, almost bimbo reader that Rick can’t help but be a little extra soft with… <3

When he steps out of the shower and onto the bathmat, he can’t help but smile at the sight of you sitting on the sink, one foot up and crouched over, focused intently on the toenail you’re currently painting. And he can’t help but notice how cute it is that your tongue is poking out the side of your mouth.

Rick rubs a towel on his hair and then wraps it around his waist, walking over to the dresser in the bedroom and grabbing some boxers. You’re a little too immersed in perfecting the pale pink pedicure to notice that he even finished his shower.

“Need some help?” He asks, coming up to the sink and reaching into a drawer. Grabbing some shaving cream and a safety razor.

You look up at the sound of his husky voice. Taking in the sight of his wet hair. Curls forming and dripping onto his shoulders. His torso, glistening with little beads of water that are racing to meet the waist band of his plaid boxer shorts.

“Hm?” You say. The sight of him went straight between your legs, making you almost immediately forget his question.

“D’you need some help there, sweetie?” He nods towards the hand gripping at Essie’s ballet slippers.

“Oh. No, I just finished. Thank you though,” you smile up at him sweetly, screwing the cap back on the bottle and turning to let your legs dangle off the marble countertop.

He positions himself in between your legs and against the vanity, while you lean back on your hands. Watching his brows draw together in focus as he rubs shaving cream along his jaw, his chin and the bottom half of his face. Grabbing the razor, he starts to make long, languid strokes down his face and neck. The blade moving with ever curve of his jaw, so smooth and intentional. But he can feel you staring. Glancing from the mirror to your gaze and then back. Trying to fight the smirk from forming on his face.

“Is it hard?” You ask, oblivious to the teasing grin on his face.

“Shaving?”

“Yeah. Aren’t you scared you’re gonna cut yourself, or somethin’?” You ask, doe eyes wide and curious. And the sight makes him think about you on your knees, having looked up at him in nearly the exact same way, all sweet and eager and so fucking perfect.

Rick shakes his head, at both the intrusive thought and your question, “Not really. Don’t you shave your legs? It’s the same thing, sweetheart.”

“But this is on your face. And you’ve seen how many times I end up nicking myself.”

He smiles, knowing that it’s true. Watching you sit on the side of the tub, silky robe leaving very little to the imagination as you glide a razor up your legs, trying to go nice and slow and get every little hair. Turning sharply to look at him with wide eyes and a hand on your mouth when you both notice a crimson droplet, trickling all the way down to your ankle.

“Yeah. You aren’t so good at that are you?” He chuckles, pressing a quick peck to your mouth which you immediately wipe off because now there’s shaving cream on your nose.

It takes everything in his power not to kiss you again.

“So how do you always get it so good?” Your honeyed voice brings him back.

“Practice I guess. You wanna try?”

“And leave you with any more scars? No thank you.” You joke.

“C’mon. Give it a try.”

“You sure?”

He nods, urging the razor into your hand and leaning in for you, “Mhm. I trust you.”

You gulp at that comment. Hoping he can still keep that trust in a few minutes when you’re all done.

You try to copy what he was doing, going extra slow over the ridge of his jaw and the bump of his adam’s apple. He hums in approval and you take it as some kind of praise. Sitting up straight and a little more confident now that his hands have moved to your hips, pulling you to the edge of the counter. Panties now flush with his groin.

“I did it.” You say triumphantly, handing him back the razor and letting your hands slide around his waist, fingers interlocking on top of his tailbone. Cheek pressed to his chest as he leans forward to rinse the razor under the faucet beside you. Tapping the metal on the counter twice. The sound echoing through the room, before he places it on a folded towel on the other side of the sink.

He leans back up to look at you. Pretty eyes and pouty lips. Hair all soft and natural, and tucked behind the dainty gold jewelry dangling from your ears.

“Y’look so pretty.” You marvel, one hand coming up to his jaw. Freshly shaved, so smooth and warm. With just the tiniest strip of leftover shaving cream that needed to be washed off.

You are so much prettier, sweet girl, he thinks to himself. Unable to form a verbal answer now that you’re touching his face. His heart doing somersaults like it was the first time. It isn’t. But he loves feeling like it is.

Being with you in this moment makes him forget what was stressing him out before his shower. Completely unbothered by the tedious week he’d had helping the Tobin with the walls.

Now, all he can even think about is you. Your face. Your voice. Your long legs and the holy temple in between them.

He closes his eyes at your touch, soft and delicately tracing your way down his jaw. The attention sending a tingly, serene feeling up his neck and down his spine.

He can’t even help what he does next. Not that he really needed to. And definitely not that he wanted to. He pulls you in, tangling his fingers into the locks at the nape of your neck. Kissing your soft, plush lips and tracing a tongue over your bottom one.

You taste like candy. And you smell like a vanilla cupcake. And the combination of the two makes him want nothing more than to take a damn bite.

Gosh, you couldn’t be more different from him. So pure and soft and sweet. So fucking kind and perfect. And though he may be a bit biased given your relationship and all, he’s positive that not a soul in Alexandria would disagree.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he pulls your legs around his waist, and he can’t help but smile against your lips and think to himself how fucking lucky he is that he found someone who can be his escape. Who can make his brain feel all fuzzy and his heart feel way too full. Who effortlessly distracts him from everything that’s wrong with in the world, just by being your beautiful self.

#rick grimes smut #rick grimes x y/n #Rick fluff #Rick grimes fluff #Rick grimes suggestive #rick grimes fanfiction #twd fanfiction #rick grimes #rick grimes x female reader #rick grimes imagine #Rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #Rick daydream #t’s daydreams <3 #hyperfeminine reader #hyperfeminine reader x Rick

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bandgie · 1 month

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stray kids as tattoo artists? I read a fic on AO3 once where Jisung Chan and Felix all owned a tattoo parlour (called Red Lights hehe) and reader worked there and got brought into their OT8 poly relationship and it lives rent free in my brain.

But anyway, what do you think they would be like as tattoo artists? Who would tattoo what body parts? Who would fuck you in the chair, who would give you head/let you suck them off, and who would force themselves to remain professional even though you can see they're hard?

wait I so need the fic if you have it plzzz

MDNI 18+ under the cut

fucking you

lee know - you have such a shy yet aroused look the moment you're in the chair. he'd touch you lightly at first, knuckles bumping against your breasts to clean the skin for the tattoo. your breath would hitch, your eyes would stare into his and you'd bite your lip. all it takes is a little nod from your end and he's undoing his belt

hyunjin - no because he never really does this. he's usually so professional, even with the hungry eyes staring at him, but there's just something so sexy about you. maybe it's the tattoos you already have, slightly faded and in need of a touch up. once he establishes that you are, in fact, wanting him the same way he wants you, he'd go to the front door of his shop and flip the sign to 'closed'

Seungmin - you'd have to beg him for it ngl. you're a regular at his parlor and he just loves how flustered you get. Seungmin doesn't mind teasing you for your session, but you just cant take it anymore. you'd make him move the stencil over and over again just under your boobs because 'its just not right' and you'd offer to take off your shirt so it's easier for him. that's the last straw for him and he'd waste no time in getting you on his cock

oral sex

changbin - he's giving you head, no questions asked. he's shaving the inner part of your thigh and your legs just look so good in shorts. he's gulping, eyes wide and briefly looking at your crotch. you notice though, and you'd gently place your hand over his and push the razor away, opening your legs so he can get a better look. he might panic at first, claiming he didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, but you shush him and grab the back of his head to guide him to your cunt.

han - you're on your tummy, feeling han prep you for a back tattoo. honestly, if he wasn't so nervous he'd fuck you just like that, but you start giving him innocent compliments that lead to you not-so-innocently sitting him on the laid out chair and getting on your knees. he's just so cute whimpering and biting into his hand while his thighs tremble around your face

professional

chan - this honestly shouldn't be a surprise. he takes his job very seriously, and no matter how many times your hand accidentally brushes against his cock or how prettily you bat your eyelashes, he will not do anything out of line. but ofc you can see the strain, and tent in his jeans that must be so uncomfortable. he's got a red blush on his ears, but he's so keen on making sure he's professional throughout the session. maybe you just need to make another appointment

felix - I think he likes knowing that you know he's horny, if that makes sense. it's the yearning that really turns him on, the longing stares, the lip bite he does when his touches linger. even if it makes his cock throb, he just loves teasing you too much to do anything. still, I do think he'd grind his front against your body 'accidentally' and he wouldn't say no if you start palming him while he shaves your arm to clean to area

jeongin - is just nervous. he really isn't sure if you're flirting with him or not. a lot of girls try to do favors in getting out of paying, but you're just so persistent you tip very good after each session. he's thought about taking things a step further, but he really isn't sure how to. if he's doing a chest tattoo, his hand will find purchase on your tit, a small blush on his face saying it helps in keeping him anchored. you don't push him, a sweet smile on your face as you tell him you don't mind, that it feels good. he gulps, cock hardening in his sweats and he prays he doesn't have to stand for a while

not proofread lmao

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emmyrosee · 4 months

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'Samu thoughts you say? (๑˘︶˘๑)

Bf! Osamu is the type of man that arrives home and searches for you just to kiss your forehead and ask about your day

The type to ask everytime you come back home from anywhere if you're hungry so you both can buy or make something

Bf! Osamu who has a stubble after a rough week in the restaurant and asks you to help him shave it since you didn't have time to share at all

Osamu who has a picture of you in his wallet AND his office at Onigiri Miya, maybe even one in the kitchen

The type to be subtle with the PDA but when you're both alone he's the biggest cat you've ever seen, noms on your cheeks or shoulders for no reason

Finally the type that knows you're the one when you spend the whole night with him with preparations for a big event on the restaurant

(I'm an avid Tsumu lover, but Osamu is just so boyfriend and husband material I can't ignore it)

OSAMU GOING OUT OF HIS WAY TO FIND YOU AND KISS YOU IS SO GOOD IM GONNA DIE

Bc he’s been so excited to kiss you all day, since this morning when he kissed you last, he just wants to run and pick you up and spin you around and pull you into this insane kiss because you make him feel on top of the world. He settles for an excited flurry of kisses from both of you, giggles and smiles and happy, easy breaths.

OSAMU WHO ASKS IF YOURE HUNGRY BECAUSE HE GETS TO DO HIS FAVORITE ACTIVITY FOR HIS FAVORITE PERSON AND WHO WOULDN'T LOVE DOING THAT???

who jumps up onto his feet and takes your jacket and kisses you with a quick flurry of "you hungry?" "did you eat?" "want to have a snack with me?"

OSAMU!!!!! WITH STUBBLE!!!! IM GONNA CHOKE-

who loves the way you shrink up your shoulders from the tickly feeling of him kissing your cheeks and neck, but loves the way you focus on shaving him even more, the tip of your tongue poking out as you draw the razor over his cheeks and jawline- you nicked him once on the neck, so now you force him to do it himself; but he still trusts you implicitly.

OSAMU WHO KEEPS PICTURES OF YOU EVERYWHERE IM-

he's got you in his wallet, his phone screen, there's one of you in his office and one of you in the inside of his onigiri miya cap. there's one of you in the restaurant, one facing out to the people, and one resting on the register. when someone asks who you are, he gets this wide, proud smile and confidently gives them an excited "my fiancé!"

OSAMU MIYA IS A BITER AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

hes the clingy one, the one who dangles off of you, the one who leaves playful bites and curls on your lap and falls asleep with your hand in his fluffy hair.

AND HIM SETTING UP THE RESTURANT FOR A JACKALS AFTER PARTY OR SOMETHING, KNOWING YOURE RIGHT THERE WITH HIM TO SUPPORT HIS DREAMS AND GIVE HIM A PROUD LOOK AT THE BEGINNING AND END OF EVERY DAY 🥺❤️❤️

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cameronspecial · 5 months

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Teach Me To Shave, Daddy

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Summary: Tristan shows interest in shaving.

Masterlist

Drew stands in front of the mirror with his razor in his hand. The shaving cream slides off as the blades cut through the tiny strands of hair. He places the head of the razor into the water to shake off the puffy white foam. He thinks nothing of the footsteps approaching the bathroom, thinking his wife is just coming to get something. Maybe she is getting the dirty laundry from the hamper. “What are you doing, Daddy?” a tiny voice calls out. The razor lowers from his face and he looks over to see Tristan. The boy’s shirt is slightly big and stained with red blotches from breakfast. His hair is brushed downwards by his mother. His eyes are wide with curiosity. Drew sets the shaving tool down on the counter, “I’m shaving, Tris.” “Why?” the inquisitive boy asks.

“It’s what daddies do to get rid of their beards.”

“Can you teach me to shave, Daddy? Please.”

Drew smiles at his son and nods. He picks up his son, placing him on the counter beside the sink. He holds up the can of shaving cream and a razor, “This is a razor. It has little knives at the top to cut the hair. This is shaving cream. It helps stop the small knives from cutting your skin. I’m going to put some cream on your face, but I’m not giving you a razor. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. Okay?” The young dirty blond nods. Drew looks around the room to see what they can use as a fake razor. His eyes land on Y/N’s jade roller and goes to get it. Once he hands it to his son, he squirts some foam into his hand and gives his son a little beard. He points to the little boy’s reflection in the mirror, causing Tristan to giggle at the sight. “I look like you now, Daddy!” he exclaims. Drew’s head bobs, “You do and a little like Santa.” The father turns toward the mirror again. He brings the razor back to his face, “Daddy is going to start at the top of the foam and slowly go down. Now, you try with your razor.” Drew watches as Tristan sets the roller on his face and rolls it down to his chin, bringing the white puff with it. “Like that Daddy?” Tristan seeks approval. “Yep and then you wash the razor off in the water and do it again,” he explains, demonstrating what he said.

The boys repeat the task until all the bubbly substance is off their faces. Drew pats a little aftershave on the boy’s cheeks and chuckles at the look of satisfaction on his face. “Let’s go show, Mommy,” Drew suggests. He picks his son up and carries him to the living room where Y/N and Millie are watching TV. “Look, Mommy. I shaved,” Tristan cries for attention. “Wow, you look amazing. I have to say, your moustache was driving me crazy,” she jokes. Millie examines both their faces and untangles herself from he mother’s hold to run to her father. “I want to shave too!” she informs, reaching her arms up to be picked up. He takes her into his arms with her brother, “Of course, you can learn. To the bathroom.” He turns to head back to the bathroom with both of his children. A grin crosses his face when he hears his wife’s footsteps follow. “Don’t leave Mommy behind.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @victory-in-the-llama @starkowswife @drewsmusee

#daddy drew #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fanfiction #dad!drew #dad!drew starkey #dad! drew #dad! drew starkey #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey fic #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey oneshot

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mitsies · 6 months

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SWEET NOTHINGS - gojo satoru . . this love, he thinks, might just be limitless.

some days are harder than others. today is particularly hard.

it's a cold tuesday night. the sky outside is bluer than blue, like the ocean on a television screen. it's easy for gojo satoru to lose himself on occasions like this.

it's not quiet, but sound is dulled. he hears the traffic outside his all-too-big apartment's window, and he hears the cat next door on the balcony meowing to be let in. but it's all so muffled, like there's water in his ears. the blue skies are suffocating, muting everything that falls under them. the world is underwater. his head feels all wrong.

there's nothing to be done now. he's finished at work, and everything else is covered, too. there is nothing left to distract him from his thoughts tonight. tonight, there are a million things happening in his head, drowning everything else out. tonight, while he is safe at home, he has never felt more at risk. tonight, he is truly, horribly alone.

satoru doesn't remember stepping into the shower. he doesn't remember polishing off the bottle of alcohol that's sitting on the bathroom counter, and thank god he doesn't remember its bitter taste. he doesn't remember the showerhead turning on, either. but at some point, his eyes refocus, and he's sitting on the cold, wet tile of his guest bathroom's shower. it's undecorated. there are no traces of life. not a shampoo bottle or stray hair, or a shaving razor or soap stains. the shower water is freezing. it stings and nips at his skin, a sharp-toothed animal, biting and chilling. if he could focus enough, satoru is sure he'd feel the ice building on his bones, as the water pelts his bareness like a knife into skin.

there are certain things that haunt him. that will always haunt him, it seems. that will be at the back of his mind until he is alone, like they are waiting to catch him. satoru is a man made of sin. he's the epitome of a system made to kill the only people who could even begin to try and understand him. he is the crown jewel of an empire built on blood. and he has seen dozens of people he's loved slip out of his grasp, just like that. oh, of course it's the nights, the nights just like these, where they come back to whisper in his ear. to tell him it's his fault— he already knows. this is redundant. he knows it's all his fault. he can smell the blood on his hands; coppery, metallic, and staining his skin. of course he knows.

satoru, for all his hypervigilance, doesn't notice the footsteps approaching, gently sounding on the bathroom tile. no, he doesn't know you're there until you call his name.

he'd know your voice anywhere. it's a part of him. your voice, saying his name. he likes it when you say it. it makes him feel better, somehow. he thinks you know this too, which is why you say it again. it's less of a question and more of a quiet exclamation. he wonders how this looks to you. a grown man, sitting on the shower floor, trapped in his own head. probably as pathetic as he feels. he should be better. he's 22, and acting like a teenager. he needs to be better. so he plasters on a typical, brazen smile and tips his head to see you. you're difficult to make out through the running water, which runs down the glass. he hopes you don't hear the rasp in his voice when he greets you, "hey."

it's out of character. you know him well enough to know that. maybe satoru would be more embarrassed, and maybe he'd try harder to act like nothing was wrong. but again— you know him. better than anyone else, anymore. you know him and you love him regardless. this much he knows is true, although he questions how much he deserves it. you've seen him through it all before. his good days, his bad ones, too.

his mind is still fuzzy, but you're opening the shower door and turning the water off. you comment about how cold it is, before kneeling down in front of him. your shoes are still on, so he tells you: "your shoes are on."

you give him a look. he knows that look. it's the 'don't question me right now' look. you're so pretty, satoru thinks. you wrinkle your nose when he exhales— he wonders if you smell the drink on his breath. "i was worried."

your hands are warm, so warm, against his cold, damp skin. a gentle touch travels from his shoulder down his arm. you treat him like he's made of glass. it's nice, for a change. he leans into your touch. you frown. "are you drunk?"

"uh.. a few sips."

he likes that you smile. it's a sad smile, but it's still a smile. "such a lightweight, satoru."

there you go, saying his name again. he hopes you touch his arm some more; your hands are so warm. and his wishes are granted, when your gentle touch moves to lift him up off the floor of the shower. he lets himself lean on you, and his face falls to your hair. it still smells the same as it did back in school. kind of floral. he likes your shampoo. maybe he'd steal it later.

you guide him out the shower and he realises just how cold he was. so it's a good thing that you bring him to his bedroom. the pillows smell like your hair. the sheets are soft and warm.

it's by memory, how you navigate his bedroom with ease. you know it like it's your own home. and he supposes that much might be true— you sleep here more than you do your own place. satoru had known you for years now. and he'd loved you years, too. but a couple of years after school, you'd been stationed off in another country to help a struggling community. you were time zones away for far too long. only recently had you returned— half a year ago, now. he hadn't moved house since you left so you'd always have somewhere familiar. he didn't touch the things you'd left, either, anticipating the day you'd come back.

satoru wonders if this is what you'd expected going into a relationship with him. he seems confident, he seems vibrant. you fell in love with his good days. you fell in love with that 99%, who he was 364 days out of the year. did you see the 1%, the 1 day, the bad day, coming? regardless of if you did, you stayed. he feels fuzzy.

you're back by his side now. a towel in hand, you dry his hair with nimble, careful fingers. you treat him like something delicate. like he's important. like he's broken, and like he's allowed to be. you press a kiss to his scalp and say something he doesn't really hear.

"you're so pretty," he mumbles as you pull away. you give him a little smile, and suddenly, satoru is jealous of your bedsheets, and how they can cradle you whilst you sleep. he’s jealous of your nails that get to cling to your fingers. he’s jealous of the scar on your left shoulder, because he wasn’t the one who gave it to you. he is so in love with you it aches. he is so empty, and so full of this love. the paradox makes him sick.

so when your hand trails across his jaw and pulls away, he holds it in place, so you're cradling his face. the pressure of your hand feels nice— he is so drawn to your touch.

"so pretty," he mumbles again, and this time you laugh. with your free hand, you card through his hair, water droplets making your fingers come away wet. "thank you, satoru. thank you."

deftly, you pry his hand off yours so you're free, much to his grumbled protests. you bite your lip to hide the size of the grin that cuts across your cheeks. your lover has always been a funny drunk, when he's not a sad one. usually, the two go hand-in-hand. it makes you sad, seeing him like this. you want nothing but happiness for him forever. you suppose it comes with the territory. you have bad days too. but you're allowed to feel. satoru is the strongest. he's meant to be good always, to protect, to serve, to be everything but not okay forever and ever. so you've come to think of yourself as lucky, to be able to have and hold him through both the good, and the bad.

among the practices you'd picked up in your time abroad, you've learned how to put your love in your touch. grabbing a small jar from the bedside table, a palmful of oil finds itself in your palm. when you'd first shown this to satoru, he'd been delighted— he'd said something along the lines of you being his personal spa treatment, with a gauchely suggestive look. you'd rolled your eyes then. but now, you take your place sitting behind him by the pillows, and he clambers in front of you by instinct. he doesn't move in a straight line and you try not to laugh. his head and shoulders fall into your lap and his eyes flutter up to gaze at you. they're half-lidded, and exhausted. there's a weight behind them that is not visible most days.

hands beginning in his hair, you watch those eyes flutter shut. they squeeze closed for a moment before he lets himself relax into your touch. deftly, with ease, you work through his hair. it's made easy by how much he maintains it— satoru is relentless about his beauty regiments— so it doesn't take long before you shift to his shoulders and upper arms.

his skin is still cold, but you feel it grow warmer beneath your touch. he's tense and rigid, and you take immense pleasure in the way his body loosens like a wire uncoiling. eyes following your hands, you observe him. the freckles on his back and upper arms are like splatters of paint in a canvas. intentionally unintentional, like the speckled on a fawn’s flank. a scar decorates his shoulder blade, from a time before infinity. he is so beautiful, even when he isn't trying. you're sick and full of love.

at some point, his breathing grows even. he's asleep in your lap. you keep rotating between carding through his hair and running your palms across his upper body with the tenderness only a lover could hold. satoru looks peaceful when he sleeps. you wonder what he might be dreaming of. bad dreams, perhaps? you don't think so. not tonight. his brow remains still, and his eyes are shut lightly, not pulled together. you lean down and plant a kiss to his temple.

gojo satoru was only human. and just like any other human, he had his ups and he had his downs. there would always be bad days to chase the good. but he knows, and you know, that there will always be you, too, to help the bad days feel a little better. you are always there to understand, to hold him and help him up, to make everything a little more okay again.

you let him know that it's alright. that tomorrow is a new day. that tomorrow, he can try again. yes, tomorrow will be better, satoru believes, so long as he has you.

this fic is rough, to say the least, but i wanted to celebrate the loml's bday so!! hi!! alternative title: gojo oiled up butt booty naked like the 4th of july

#gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru gojou #jjk imagines #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojou #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #reader insert

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

Text

𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑯

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, comfort

word count: 2.5k

summary: joel brings you a care pack Maria gave him and you find a razor inside but when you confess your insecurities around the topic, Joel offers to help you out.

warnings: oral (receiving), reader having body hair and mentions of people nagging her about it pre-outbreak, joel trimming and shaving you, very domestic and soft joel

a/n: this is very self-indulgent babes, very soft joel, very domestic joel. I just want that big gruff man to take care of me thank you very much.

You still love the rain.

It didn’t matter if you were out under a tent, didn’t matter if you were huddled with Joel in a cave—you still loved it all the same. The sound of thunder, the cold water drops against your skin, the smell.

God, the smell of wet soil, the freshness of it swirling in your lungs. Observing the gray sky, the moving clouds, and the peaks of the mountains hidden beneath them, you’re in love with it all. Even on days when you were frustrated, angry, bloody, and bruised, the rain seemed to wash that all away without even touching your skin.

You smile underneath the heavy downpour of the steaming shower. Your bones ache tenderly, muscles turning to shapable clay underneath waterdrops. It’s heavenly. You don’t even remember the last time you felt warm water sliding down your body. Even after giving Tommy an earful about not letting Joel know he was alright, you have to give him kudos for building a life for himself. Jackson seems like the perfect community; there was food, hot water, homes—and most importantly, safety.

Turning off the water, you step outside. It almost feels like the old days. Your mirror is fogged up, the steam clinging to your softened skin. Wrapping a towel snugly around your body, you wonder what Joel is up to.

Tommy and Maria had prepared you two separate rooms. It wasn’t needed, but you kept your mouth shut at the time. It’s still hard to know what Joel would be comfortable with. Maybe he preferred to sleep alone, you didn’t want to force him into anything he didn’t want to. He hadn’t said anything to that, he just placed a hand over your thigh, squeezing it tenderly from underneath the table. His gaze never left Tommy’s when he did, the conversation still flowing effortlessly.

When you step out of the bathroom, the steam shadowing your steps, you’re surprised to find Joel on the bed.

His gaze slowly moves up, a smile blossoming on his lips. You had dubbed that smile of his his “half-smile”. Happy but unsure if he should be.

“Lookin’ good,” he murmurs, soft browns raking up and down your body. “Fresh as a daisy.”

You grin and, lifting the bottom of your towel slightly, give him an unbalanced bow. “Why thank you, kind sir.”

His smile widens and you practically melt under his gaze. Without saying another word, he throws a small bag toward you. Nearly falling, you catch it and peek inside. It’s a menstrual cup, a half-decent razor, and a small pair of scissors. You shoot him a quizzical look.

“From Maria,” he says. “I have no idea what’s in it.”

“Nothing important. A menstrual cup and a razor.” you exhale.

“Then why are you actin’ as if she gave you a severed finger? Aren’t those…good things?”

“It is. Just, I don’t know. It’s good.”

He raises to his feet and a second later two strong arms wrap themselves around you. You lean into him without a second thought, if water is seeping through his shirt, he doesn’t say a word. Joel’s thumbs move in circles above the towel. You let out a sigh.

“I’m not good at it,” you say hoping that he’ll just understand.

He doesn’t.

“Not good at what?”

You really hate this. It’s a stupid thing to worry about but your inability to properly shave had always proven to be an issue before the outbreak. Men scrunching up their noses, friends commenting you should get it removed, professionals claiming it’s “dirty” when realistically speaking it wasn't.

Then the outbreak happened, and even though it was the end of the world, at least you didn’t need to worry about body hair. A bit of a heartless thought, you realize, but your brain still whispers gratitude from time to time.

Joel didn’t mind, or just didn’t say anything. He held you all the same, fucking himself deeper with every thrust, holding you tight enough that you were convinced he’d never let you go. He starved for you. Some days he tasted you until you felt raw and overwhelmed. He never said anything. Why would he when the both of you were just trying to survive?

But now that was different. You had a temporary home, warm water.

A bed.

It just feels silly to admit this insecurity now. He’s already seen it all, felt it all, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to tidy yourself up a bit. You have the time after all. God knows when you’ll get a chance like this again.

Joel’s arms tighten around you and you feel his chapped lips against your neck. You’ve been silent for too long.

“Tell me.”

You swallow. “Shaving.” you answer. “I’m not…I’m not good at it. Always miss a spot especially—”

“Especially?”

You hear the blood rush in your ears, your heart beats in your throat. Your lips are sealed shut, a thin line refusing to break. When his hand slides down your stomach you look down, your legs already shaking. His lips touch your ear.

“Show me.”

Covering his hand with your own, you guide him down until it’s resting on your mound. His fingers gently press down, he feels the fabric of the towel and his lips brush the side of your chin.

“Do you want me to help?” his breath feels heavy and warm against your skin.

“You’d…” you lick your lips. “You’d want to do that?”

“Only if you want me to,” he answers, large hands gripping your hips. “You don’t have to do it, of course. I mean, you don’t have to shave if that’s not your thing.”

You turn within his arms and cradle his face with both hands. You feel light as a feather, soft tears building in your eyes as you smile. Joel must’ve seen the extra shine because he leans in to kiss you. It’s not a consuming kiss but a comforting one. You take deep breaths as those same pair of lips travel down the column of your throat, his kisses wet when he reaches your shoulder. He gently nudges you towards the bed.

“Lay down the towel, get comfortable.” you feel his lips one more time before he parts away. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

You do as you’re told. Laying down the towel, you swallow how nervous you are. The coolness of the room chills your skin but your insides are boiling hot. You feel like you should do more than just laying down on a towel, like you should prepare more thoroughly. But you’ve already taken a shower. Not really much else you can do but that right?

Your fingers twitch over the bed sheets and stare blankly at the ceiling. This is awkward. You should’ve said no, you should’ve—

“Breath in, sweetheart,” Joel says standing at the door with a small bucket and another towel. He sighs when you give him a look of—what you assume—absolute horror.

The bed dips as he takes a seat at the end. Placing the bucket full of water down, he skims your leg with the tips of his fingers.

“We can stop whenever you want to,” he reminds you. “I promise to be careful.”

You mutter alright and as soon as you do his hand moves to the inner section of your leg, heat gathers at the base of your spine, you let out a breath.

“Part you legs for me, honey.”

The pose alone feels uncomfortably familiar. You remember the days you would have to get waxed, how it would hurt and how you would just stare at the ceiling thinking that it’d be over soon. You press your sweaty hands into the sheets, a slight termble to your thighs as Joel comes closer. His hand finds the dip of your waist, his touch feather light, moving up your body and resting right under the swell of your breast. The gesture sooths you like it would a wounded animal. You let out a breath.

Your gaze drops to look at him and he holds your gaze, squeezing your flesh tenderly before pulling back his hand. He raises his brows and you nod at his silent question. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. And when your head falls back into the pillows you’re smiling, the tension drained away from your muscles.

You never thought that this would be the type of comfort you would be receiving during the ends of the earth. Joel is gentle, precise. He’s a man that’s good with his hands and it shows. His thumb moves between your folds, when you let out a sharp sigh, he repeats the movement and his lips curl with amusement.

“You like that?”

You hum. “It feels good.”

“I’ll make you feel even better in a bit.”

First he trims down the hairs, then he dabs your mound with the water he brought and begins shaving you. It doesn’t hurt, and it’s oddly soothing. His fingers move over the places that are freshly shaved, a soft hum echoing from his throat at a job well done. He takes his time. And whenever you look down you notice the swirl of emotion in his eyes that he’s enjoying doing this for you. The crease between his brows softens, the tip of his tongue snug between his lips as he continues. It’s nice.

“You enjoy this?” you ask, it sounds louder in the silence of the room.

Joel takes a moment to wet the razor again, cleaning the access. When he looks up to you, you can’t help but press your knee into his cheek. He leans into the contact, lips finding the slope and leaving a tender kiss.

“I enjoy that you trust me,” he murmurs. “I enjoy takin’ care of you.”

“That’s a relief,” you answer, your head falling back down. You shudder as you feel his lips once more, then he spreads your legs again. “And for the record I do like…being taken care of.”

“You don’t need to be shy about it,” he drawls. “I know.”

Your heart skips a beat, blood pools under your nails. “You do?”

“I mean…yeah?” he chuckles. “We’ve been together for a while, you and I, and I think by now I know a thing or two of what you like. I love it when you cling to me when I’m inside you, the way you mutter for me to hold you and go harder,” his voice drops a beat, his breath hot and heavy as it fans over your sex. Slick pools between your legs. “I know it wasn’t always good with me but I’m glad to be the person you turn to.”

“Joel…”

Before you can say anything, he presses a towel against your core and wipes you down. He doesn’t look back at you as he does so. You know that it’s hard for him to say that. To confess something he hadn’t even confessed to himself for years.

“All done.” he says, throwing the razor into the bucket and the towel to the floor. Joel doesn’t move away, and neither do you. Your breathing grows heavy, your chest stuttering with every exhale. He comes closer and guides your legs above his shoulder. You feel his breath, his heat, his gaze.

He kisses the skin right under your pubic bone, he holds your gaze as he moves up, his lips tender against your folds.

“Can I?” he whispers, the need of his tone sending shudders up your spine.

“Go ahead.”

Joel’s tongue dips between the lips of your cunt, his lips moving the same way it does when he presses them onto your mouth. His fingers bite into your skin, the movement of his tongue more eager as he tugs you further down and into his mouth. Joel savors the taste as moves he long and slow. You feel the flat of his tongue, the trembling of his chest as he groans into you. Without thinking you jerk towards his mouth, his lips too sinful, too good for you to stay still. You thread your fingers into his hair and pull him closer.

A moan part your lips as he parts your folds and flicks his tongue over your clit. A sharp feeling of pelasure courses through you, too sudden to be described as a wave, too overwhelming and lingering to be described as a jolt of electricity. He’s the only one to make you feel like this. He laves at the sensitive bundle fo nerves, pursing his lips around the nub and swirling his tongue around it. You chase the feeling, grinding up into him until he pins your hips down and inhales you.

“Stay still,” he groans. “You taste so good, honey. Could live out the rest of my days spoilin’ this perfect cunt.”

He sloopily laps at your cunt and sucks at the clit, the pads of his fingers draw circles over your aching hole before sliding two in. Your eyes snap open, your jaw dropping nearly all the way to your chest.

“Shit—” you choke out, your hips trembling. “Shit, shit, shit. Joel, please—”

“Love it when you get all needy for me,” he says, licking a stripe up between your folds as he rocks his fingers deeper into you. “My sweet girl, can’t even as what she wants. You want me to make you come, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you cry out. “Yes, yes, please make me come. Please—you feel so good, Joel.”

He nips at the inside of your thigh before coming back to your sex, his fingers are knuckle deep and you see white when he curls them. Every nerve is burning with want, with need. Your stomach tightens, your skin prickling with everything he does. You can barely breathe, suffocating and swallowing down your bated breaths.

He takes his time, pulling his fingers out before plunging them back in, pushing you to the very brink. You shudder, your body trembling with pleasure as he laps and suckles at your sweetest spots. His tongue moves in circles and swirls, flicking and rubbing against your clit as he increases the tempo. His fingers work in tandem, thrusting deep inside you, his other hand holding you firmly in place.

Your body is consumed by him, your mind spinning from the intensity of it. Joel doesn't let up, his movements becoming more and more frenzied as he brings you to the edge of oblivion. You can feel your orgasm building inside you, and as it reaches its peak you break down, letting out a cry as you gush around his fingers and drench his lips. You grip at Joel's hair as your body is rocked by wave after wave of pleasure, your hips bucking wildly against his face as your orgasm takes full control.

Joel holds you close, his fingers still inside you as your orgasm slowly subsides. He kisses your stomach, and you feel a warmth spread through you.

He pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean before moving up your body and pulling you into a tight embrace. There’s something incredibly vulnerable about you being completely in the nude while he’s compeltly clothed. You curl into a ball, he pulls you closer.

“I think I need another shower,” you grin, looking up. “You made a mess of me, Joel Miller.”

“Up to you,” he murmurs and presses his lips to your forehead. “But this time I’m joining you.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #hbo the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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argreion · 4 months

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Cuts and Band-aids

Val Here — So, uh, stupid self-indulgent fluff? I really badly just want to have a domestic life with Leon, you don't understand. I need to be stupid and laugh at his shitty dad jokes. Then play with his hair and fall asleep with cuddles. I am a simple woman, am sorry guys… Also going off Google with this.

(Also Tumblr decided to hide this for an hour so uh... Yeah, that happened. 😭 Am I making a big deal out of it? Yes. That shit literally scared me.)

Warnings — None, just fluff. And slightly OOC Leon, cause I like goofy Leon. Ok, maybe pretty OOC Leon but I think Domestic Leon and Mission Leon are pretty different ngl… Also, shit writing too, dialogue isn't my strong suit. 😭

All this started with was cuddling in bed one night, being curious about one simple thing…

“Could I possibly shave your stubble, Leon?” An innocent question, as a gesture of affection towards him; something small and sweet.

Surprising him, as he proceeded to check his phone. Looking over his shoulder with shocked eyes, nodding in response.

“Sure.”

“Am I doing this right?” You asked as you applied shaving cream to the lower half of his face. Sitting up on the bathroom counter, with Leon leaning into you slightly. Watching him appear like a cat, scratched under the chin with a shit-eating grin.

“Mhm, I hope you know the basics of shaving. Do you need some private lessons on this, hm? Do I have to be Mr. Kennedy? Private shaving tutoring with Mr. Kennedy?” Leon purred, allowing you to maneuver his face in whatever way you wished. Feels like a model with a brush on his face, beauty at its finest.

“Uh, I know the thing about the grain. Against the grain?” Ok, maybe you didn't exactly know how to shave. It seemed harder to shave a face, rather than arm hair or leg hair. You didn't even have facial hair, so you had no room to talk in such a department. “How do you do against the grain?”

Aw, you poor, poor thing…

Leon sighed, explaining as you continued to cover his face in shaving cream; with the brush he provided ever so courteously, “'Ight, so, it ain't like shaving an arm. At least in my opinion, 'cause my opinion is absolutely amazing, and you shouldn't put cereal before milk.”

Ok, smart ass, maybe you'll be a lunatic and do milk before cereal… Sike.

“That opinion is shit, and you know it.” You laughed, putting the shaving brush away on the bathroom counter. Watching as Leon proceeded to ready the razor, like a jeweler appraising a diamond. Leon often looked this way when he cleaned his gun.

“Maybe you're the one with a shit opinion, ion know.” He chuckled, sliding the razor into your hand. “There, now it's time for Mr. Kennedy to work his charm and school you on shaving.”

Leon coughed, his face taking on a 'dignified' look as he raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. Taking your hand in his, and giving you a hands-on approach toward his shaving.

Gently guiding your hand in a way that went against the way his facial hair grew. A slight sound came from it, and bits of hair following the trail.

“So, miss, what do you notice?” This 'teacher' asked, letting you do the second swipe yourself. Arms crossed over his chest, seemingly pleased with his shit attempt at teaching you.

“That you look very stupid? Or the fact that you missed a spot?” You answered, taking his jaw in your hands to move his face in an appropriate direction. He did, in fact, miss a spot. Poor man's ego probably took a hit.

“Damn it.” Leon sighed, his expression falling as he let his face rest. Letting out a faint hum as he watched your face focus; such care in doing something so simple.

“Seeing you focus is adorable, y'know?” He now said, was he attempting to woo you further? As if cheesy jokes, blanket hogging, and a breakfast lover weren't already enough. Focusing was his new target?

“I'm charmed, but I have a man at home.”

Shaving his face was a little over halfway done, having to do underneath his jaw and possibly his mustache. Seeing Leon raise an eyebrow at you as you began to do underneath his jaw. Oh really, a man at home? Oh my, what could ever be his name?

“I bet I could be better than that man.” Of course, you could be, dumbass. It's literally you.

“I dunno, he's definitely charming, but he's a bit of a... What's the best word? Clod? Dolt? Dumbass?” There were multiple words to describe Leon at points. The way he would burn his mouth when eating, knock things over, clearly need glasses, and proceed to not wear a damned motorcycle helmet. How many times did you yell at him? Then he would proceed to give a sheepish smile, runoff, and come back saying, “So, uh, honey! My motorcycle crashed on the freeway!” Absolute dumbass, but it was sweet. He was sweet.

He was sweeter than honey, almost too sweet. Seeing as he always kissed your knuckles or palms. An aged cat that just wanted to be loved, and love back.

“I bet he's delighted you call him such wonderful names. I'll call you... Amore mio bellissimo.” Leon purred, looking up to catch himself in the mirror. A smile graced his face, alongside a cut. The sudden movement of him moving his face caused the blade of the razor to cut him. Seeing a now thin, bright red mark on his jaw.

Oof, you did a little fuck-up. “Err... Band-aid?” You suggested, face a little uncertain as he brushed a finger over it. “Kind of moved your face, should've learned this now.”

“I know.” It was all he responded with, letting himself stare into his soul. A little creepy, but he often dazed off into his own world. Doing paperwork, before bed, coming from a mission, and when you showered together, too.

“Stop looking gloomy, gumdrop.” Gum drop? That just randomly popped out of your mouth. Ew, you're starting to sound like Leon when he's drunk. Clinging to you like a child, crying that you're so good to him. Delighted and honored, he held you in such a high regard.

“Gumdrop? I've rubbed off on you, honeybun.” He teased, that signature Kennedy toothy smile appearing. Cute little dimples on his face. Damn you.

Why did your face feel warm? A groan came from your lips as he had successfully wooed you in the stupidest ways. Reaching behind you into the band-aid box, feeling around for at least one normal-sized band-aid. Leon, why'd you always buy the big ass ones?

While you did that, Leon finished the rest of his face, splashing water all over his face as he finished. Rubbing underneath his eyes, muttering to himself that he needed to do something with his eye bags. Good, he's distracted...

Maybe you did like to fuck around and find out. Being able to fish out a Hello Kitty band-aid. Heh, you can play the small stupid game of pranks as well. Well, this wasn't exactly a prank. But it usually got a rise out of him in small ways. Pulling the back off and sticking it quickly on his face.

Was he appalled? Possibly, seeing as he stood there for a second. Maybe multiple seconds? Why did a small cold sweat break down your neck as he glanced towards you? Lips pursed as he judged the 'fashion choice' of such a band-aid.

“What's this dog again?” Leon asked, squinting as he turned his face to get a better look. That's right, he didn't even know what Hello Kitty was, did he? It was basically something for girls, and judging by the way he would watch raunchy cartoons. Yeah, he wouldn't know it's Pompompurin. It was too out of his league.

“That, my friend, is Pompompurin. Big name, I know. I botched it, so many times, till a little teenager screamed at me for it.” You laughed, recalling the small memory of it. Pausing as Leon gave a kiss to your cheek. More red blooming on your cheeks. Quick and sly, always the way he was.

“Well, guess I get to have a pee-colored band-aid on my face now, huh? Multiple kinds of hydrated, too.” Duly noted, never introduce you to a dog or Sanrio ever again. Only took ten seconds in, and you had to say something flavorful. No, something you want to slap him respectfully for.

“You always ruin cute things, God damn.” Never got old, you respectfully ruined the other. He got pee-colored band-aids, and you got a drive-by ass-wise. The equal playing field in this relationship.

“You just can't appreciate my art, can you?” He questioned, giving another kiss on your cheek before proceeding with his normal morning routine.

“You can't appreciate the art of me learning to shave your stubble? Not even a thank you?” Reusing his words in a way against him, watching him roll his eyes and meet your gaze.

“Thank you, babe.” Was all he said to make a small smile appear on your face. Earning a kiss on his lips.

“Love you.”

“Love you too, maybe pee colored band-aids are go—”

“Oh, shut the actual fuck up.”

#resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy

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joshslater · 19 days

Text

Emergency Model

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"Excuse me, what's your shoe size?"

Bewildered I looked around to find the man who asked the random question, like out of that old episode of Monty Python. Off to the side, almost behind me, was a thirty-ish man in polo shirt, jeans, and glasses with plastic rims that looked purposefully selected to make him look like a film director or architect. He looked unsure or stressed. "Eight, eight and a half. Who's asking?"

Immediately he brightened up. "Hello. I'm Ben Atkinson, " he said and extended his hand. "We're making a photo shoot of the supplemental collection of sporting clothes," he continued without waiting for me to shake it. "It's all for the online shop, so simple stuff. White background, a few poses." Tentatively I shook his hand. "Pretty fast rotation of models. Unfortunately one of them has called in sick. You have the right look, but more importantly the right build and size."

"Uhum," I answered, sensing where this was going. It was a Saturday morning, and I was on my way to meet up with some friends at Wayland's Deli.

"This is quite sudden, but we are on a tight deadline. If you're willing to model for us I'll give you twice the normal rate."

"Ok," I said, not waiting to hear what the normal rate was. I'm sure Stuart would not stop giving me grief about it for the rest of the year, but I would technically be a photo model which wouldn't be a negative in Sarah's eyes. Turned out that it would also be double my monthly earnings as well, so maybe I could shut Stuart up as well.

We entered the building, which apparently was an office space that had been taken over for the day for the shoot. There were racks of clothes everywhere, lots of people with iPads tracking what item was where, who should wear it, and in what conference room they should shoot it. It was bustling with activity. After some exchange of information with Ben, and signing papers, I was handed over to a conference room turned makeup and styling studio. Most of the furniture was stacked in one corner and the floor was covered by transparent plastic that had been rolled out. To one side was a table with lots of makeup tools and bottles and stuff I wouldn't know how to use, except maybe the hand mirror and the scissors, and even that I'm not confident with. A pair of strong LED lamps on stands lit a chair placed at the center of the plastic.

"I'm Julia, pleased to meet you. So you are the last one," said the stylist, carefully surveying me and in particular my face and hair. "We're short on time, so we have to work quickly. Are you ok with a buzz cut and tight fade?" Not what I would have chosen, but it's starting to get warm outside and it's only hair. I'd be back to my current length after the summer. "Sure."

She seated me in the chair and began the work with a corded trimmer, and soon a flurry of detail work with smaller trimmers and some of her tools from the table. Probably took her about ten minutes for the haircut. Then some time with a straight razor blade and a tweezer to pluck and shave all over my face and then arms. I told her that this was all new to me, having literally just been picked from the street. She reassured me that there wasn't much to it. Just be no-nonsense about it. Take whatever the stylist decides, change clothes quickly, do the poses the photographer asks for, and repeat.

"All done," she said and handed me the hand mirror as if I had any say in this. I looked so different than just moments before. The hair was shorter than I've ever had it, with a razor sharp fringe line. The fade on the sides was basically just an inch tall from the head and down the temple, then skin tight down, and presumably the same around the back of the head as well. The total amount of hair I was left with could fit a shot glass. "If you go down the corridor to the break room there is a shower in the bathroom there. Ask Andy outside to let you in. Take a quick rinse to get rid of stray hairs, change into these, put your stuff in one of the plastic boxes there, and come back to me for a final touch-up." She handed me a pair of white briefs and white socks. I hesitated a bit, and she was quick to jump ahead of my thoughts. "Everyone around here are used to see gorgeous bodies without clothes. Act as if it is normal, because to us it is. You can't be self-conscious. Oh, and Andy is the only one with a key, so your valuables are safe." Another boy showed up at the door saying he needed a new application. I told Julia thanks and went to look for Andy.

Andy unlocked the door to the office lunch room for me and I did as Julia had told me. I stripped naked and put everyting, clothes, wallet, phone, keys, shoes, into one of the plastic boxes, wrote my name on it with a whiteboard marker and placed it next to all the other boxes. Eight boxes in total. I went into the bathroom, took a 90 seconds shower, and dried myself off with one of the towels from the pile. I put on the briefs and socks, had Julia apply her things to me, and within ten minutes I was dressed in Nike shoes, joggers, and a fleece hoodie, being ordered by a photographer who didn't have time to introduce himself to look left, turn around, put my hands in my pockets, pull up the hood, sit down on the floor, and on and on. Then out change, and back with the next item.

It was going non-stop since they were behind on my stuff, so I had barely time to talk to anyone. There wasn't any proper lunch break either, just a protein bar together with two of the other models, Mark and Andrew. At first they thought it was funny that I had just been snatched off the street for the shoot, but when I told them how much more money I got they were like "fuck you, go back to work". Well the break was over anyway, so I don't know how serious they were.

It continued with item after item, until I realized I was the only model left. The others had taken off without saying goodbye, not that we had any relation. People were moving things out of the office, and when I asked about the hurry they said there was a firm deadline when they had to be out so the cleaning crew could put everything back to a working office again. I could feel the pressure as it was my item changes that held up everyone. I swapped into a pair of MRKNTN underwear that probably was like half a size too small but decided to just power through with the shoot. As soon as the last photo had been taken, they started to dismantle the light rigs. As I walked back to the lunch room I could see that most of the clothes racks were gone. The makeup room was back to looking like a conference room. I couldn't find Andy anywhere though, and the lunch room with my stuff was still locked. I wanted my stuff for sure, but more importantly I wanted to get out of the underwear that kept squeezing and chafing. I couldn't go more than 30 seconds without having my hands down the joggers to adjust them.

Ben wasn't anywhere to be seen either. I asked one of the remaining people and he said they had all left, working on getting all the stuff back and preparing the "delivery pipeline" for the photos. Probably Andy had checked off everyone from his list, and it was printed before I was recruited. "Just keep the clothes you have on and you can come back here Monday and pick up your stuff," he said.

Fuck.

No point in hanging around any longer. Everyone wanted to leave as soon as possible, so I just left and headed towards the bus stop. It was getting late and with no phone on me I couldn't call home and say what was going on.

Fuck.

I didn't have anything to pay the bus fare with. I could perhaps go back to the office building and see if I could catch anyone exiting, use their phone, and call for someone to pick me up. But there was no telling if and when I would get hold of anyone. Just walking back there would make me miss the next bus, so that would set me back at least an hour. I could just as well ask someone else to use their phone. Or perhaps ask them to cover the bus fare.

That's when I saw them, a little bit further down the street, past the bus stop. Six boys huddled at the corner, talking and messing around as if no one else was around. One had a bike. All of them dressed in the kind of clothes I had spent all day modeling in, track suits, hoodies, trainers. All of them were smoking. I figured I'd have as good a chance with them as with anyone else now, looking the way I looked.

As I was getting closer one of them alerted the others and they had some kind of conversation about me. "Hello, excuse me. Could I borrow money for the bus fare from any of you?" There was a second of silence before a mixed snicker erupted, and one of them answered "No, bruv. I don't think so."

I don't know why, but for some reason I was mortified by how I had been dismissed. I could feel my face turning red, so I quickly turned away from them to make my way back to the bus stop, without any plan of what to do next.

"Oi, bruv!" I heard from behind me. Looking back at them I could see three boys had gotten up and were heading my way. "Callum's grafting down at the barber's for some extra quid and need someone to practice on. What if he can do some practice while we cover the fare and take you home safely? Fair, innit?"

"I barely have any hair," I said and let my hand touch my fresh skin fade, almost shocking myself with how radically different it felt.

"Won't be much of a nick then, bruv."

He was right. There wasn't much he could ruin. I had only a few millimeters of hair so in the worst case scenario I could shave completely and it would be back within the week.

"Good lad. A deal innit."

"Yes," I said, unsure if it was expected. The guy who had spoken and Callum flanked me while the third lad walked behind me, enveloping me with the scent of smoke and body spray. After a silent moment the guy spoke again, introducing himself as Iwan and the third guy as Rob, and asked where I lived. I gave him the bus stop, Hillside Garden North, about 18 minutes ride. Would have been busy during the week, but at weekends there wouldn't be many on the bus.

We didn't have to wait long for the bus to arrive, but instead of entering by the driver they all bunched up again with me in the middle and entered through the exit doors as a single unit. Then they quickly moved to the back of the bus and pushed me into a seat next to Callum, facing Iwan and Rob in the furthest back seat. I half expected the driver to say something over the speakers, but there was barely a delay, if any, before the bus was moving as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I looked at Iwan with perhaps a bit of surprise and he just shrugged as if to say "what did you expect? That the driver would confront us?"

Then he nodded at Callum next to me, backpack in his lap, who answered "Aye" and got up. He placed the bag on the seat and positioned himself right in front of me, one leg on either side of mine, his knees hitting the edge of the seat, and his left hand grabbing the rail behind me. It felt both imposing and intimate. He opened the backpack and rummaged around with his right hand until he found a small trimmer in a zip-lock bag.

He opened it with both hands and threw the plastic bag into the backpack. Then he looked out and waited for the bus to drive on straight and even road before he turned the trimmer on. Then slowly he moved it in an arched line from my temple and along the side of my head until he reached the neck. Then he studied for a few seconds before he made a few additional buzzes along the same line.

"Not bad, innit?" he said while shifting his body so Iwan and Rob could see. "Fucking mint, mate," Iwan answered.

Then he turned on the trimmer again and unexpectedly extended the line by buzzing my eyebrow for a few seconds. I hadn't even considered my eyebrows. Callum reached into his backpack again to put the trimmer in the zip-lock, but without moving his feet so his body pressed even closer to me. While I couldn't see much, I could certainly feel his body spray filling my nostrils while I felt my eyebrows with my fingers. I guess there would be a lot to explain to mother anyway, so this would just be yet another detail.

I could just see it for a fraction of a second. It looked like a small glue gun in off-white plastic. Then before I could realize what it was it was pressed against my ear, it made a snapping sound, and I felt a sharp pain. "What the!" I said, more in surprise than pain.

"18G piercing. Hurts more, heals slower, but much better," Callum offered, as if it was the type of piercing that was in question, not that he had done it at all. He reloaded the piercing gun and I struggled with what to do. Just take it like the first one? Why should I? But then one piercing was the real threshold. Once you pass that, two is if anything better than one. This would soon be over anyway.

He was just as quick with the second one as the first one. "These need to stay in 30 days, you hear me?" he said, still standing essentially on top of me. "Yes, I understand," I said with a sinking feeling of all the implications. He put the gun back into the bag and went searching for something again. Finally he pulled out some sort of pliers, then held my earlobe with one hand while doing something with the pliers with the other. "Making sure they don't fall off," he explained before sitting down again on his seat. I could see Iwan and Rob again, and booth looked pleased. Iwan looked absolutely chuffed. "Fucking proper, innit" he said and pat me hard on the shoulder. "Fucking proper."

After than Iwan opened up and started to ask me all kinds of questions, starting with my name, which I realized I hadn't given him when he presented everyone. I was soon giving the highlights of the day as a photo model until we arrived my stop. To my surprise everyone got off with me. "Said we would take you home safe." We continued to chat all the way home and it turned out me Iwan and Rob had the same taste in electronic music while Callum was more of a rock guy.

"Ok, this is my stop," I said once we reached my house. "Meet us Monday, same time and place," Iwan said. "What?" "You owe us £2 for the bus, bruv." "But..." "You going back on our deal?" "No, I'll come by." "And wear the same clothes. Underwear too." "No! I have classes." "You'll figure it out, bruv." Callum opened his backpack again and tossed something to Iwan. "And use this," he said and handed over a can of Lynx Jungle body spray. "What if I don't? What if I don't do any of that?" "Where you live isn't a secret, innit? See you Monday, bruv."

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bratphilia · 6 months

Text

— burn (w. afton)

note ✧.*‎ part two of the self indulgent william fics!! think of this as a double feature. anyways this is my first time writing william and the reader as a married couple even though its barely glossed over, and not some taboo/scandalous relationship!! so enjoy :3

pairing ✧.*‎‎ steve raglan / william afton x reader

cw ✧.*‎‎ oral sex (f receiving), face sitting, bondage, squirting

taglist ✧.*‎‎ @dilfity, @iikyutee, @kissingrhi, @jen-parker, @kathxstuff, @papyrus-the-poet, @lowballbread, @cecelovesbooks, @bluebearieally, @cybunii, @van-van, @iamunabletothinkofablogname, @1ncidentdropout, @ice-echo26@, officially-a-simp13, @all4kura, @el-sol-sale-de-nuevo, @littlexstarlightx, @samlow23

synopsis ✧.*‎ you convince your husband not to shave quite yet.

"ah, shit," comes william's voice from the bathroom in your shared room. you perk your head up and peer over to see him standing in front of the mirror with a small amount of shaving cream spilled on the counter.

you slide off the bed and walk his direction, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on the side of his torso. he remains unmoving, stoic as the humming of an electric razor comes to life. "maintenance time?"

"absolutely," he sighs, checking his beard out in the mirror. he let it grow too far, in his opinion, but you on the other hand craved it. was it weird? possibly, to someone outside of your relationship, but who cares. every time he kissed you lately, his beard scratched your cheek and chin, making you grow so weak in the knees you could only stand with his support holding you up.

"well, i like it. maybe you should keep it a little while longer," you suggest hopefully.

william simply gives a short laugh. "i know that you like it. you have that cute little look in your eyes again."

you self-consciously look in the mirror, searching for whatever "cute look" he was implying you had, only to find your reflection staring back at you, most noticeably your pupils dilated in desire. fuck, you needed him. you decide to make it a game. "you won't do anything, though, so it doesn't matter. go on, shave," you say with a dismissive wave of your hand and turn your heel to walk away.

"oh, i won't do anything?" he challenges. you give a noncommittal "mm-mm" in response as you climb back on the bed.

a beat passes. "get back over here and give me your wrists."

that immediately grabs your attention. you try not to jump and spring forward, but nonchalantly approach him with a blank face, wrists held out for him. the shaving cream and now turned off razor is left abandoned somewhere on the counter. he undoes his belt and wraps it around your wrists, securing the clasp tightly. he pulls you closely so he can practically growl in your ear, "i'm going to go lay down on the bed then you're going to come over and sit on my face, got that?"

you inhale deeply, suddenly finding yourself short of air. "yes."

william situates himself on the bed, casually rest his hands behind his head. he turns his head towards you; your move. you pad over and climb on the bed, straddling him and shimmying your way forward on your knees. he decides to help you out and quicken the process by grasping your hips and practically lifting you onto his face.

you try to reach forward onto the bedframe, only for your hands to meet a defeating tug against his belt. you were completely at his disposal. he dives in, smothering his face in between your thighs. he doesn't even use his mouth at first, just teasing you with his facial hair alone. it leaves a burning sensation in its wake and you moan desperately, fingers flexing against the leather bounding you.

"fuck!" you cry once his tongue enters your weeping hole. he pulls it out and relentlessly laps up and down your slit. his finger tips dig into your hips in a death grip, almost totally halting any bucking motions you could try to make. he just holds you against his face, expecting you to take what he gives you.

william groans against you in unison with your sinfully loud moans. the vibrations only add to the stimulation he gives you. he sucks your clit into his mouth and you swear you see stars. he pulls it with his lips so that your hood drags out ever so slightly and you're almost close.

before you can react, he pulls you off his face. you groan, disappointed in the loss of stimulation. "don't be so sad, baby," he says. "lay on the bed, yeah? can you do that for me, sweet thing?"

"mhm," you mumble, shakily resting on the spot next to him and he repositions himself on his knees on the bed. your own knees are tilted upwards expectantly.

he instantly takes matters into his own hands and lifts your legs up to your stomach. "keep them there," he tells you in a commanding tone.

you feel your core pulse at his words and throw your head back when his mouth returns. without warning, he sucked your clit without remorse. unrelentlessly flicking your pearl with the tip of his tongue with a method only he understands.

you cry out helplessly once more once his impossibly long tongue slips inside of you once more. he thrusts it in and out, fucking you with it while you shake in his grasp. your curses and begging comes out as incoherent babbles as his mouth works its magic on you, effectively rendering you weak.

he releases your legs from his hold and tries to spread your lips apart to give him more, but stops when you try to close your legs. "do i need to bind your legs together too?" you shake your head no and incessantly apologize, wanting nothing more but for his mouth back on you. "keep being good for me and you'll get to come."

"okay," you whisper.

you wish he would talk to you more in that gruff voice of his, but this treatment is more than enough. plus, his mouth is a bit too preoccupied right now so you'll take what you can get.

"feel that honey?" he emphasizes by shaking his head, knowing damn well you can barely speak. "thighs all red from my beard. poor baby."

when he sucks his clit into his mouth again, suctioning it earnestly is when you're tipped over the edge before you can realize it. william, who usually makes you ask to come before doing so, isn't complaining, though. your orgasm has his face dripping. he looks up at you, eyebrow quirked.

"'m sorry, daddy," you say in a small voice. "couldn't help it." he simply leans up to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself on his face.

#fnaf #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's #william afton #fnaf smut #steve raglan #william afton x reader #william afton smut

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russellsppttemplates · 6 months

Note

Dad!driver looking after mom!reader whe she's feeling overwhelmed with the baby.

Driver of your choice.

Tw: postpartum, breastfeeding

"Hey, little one, aren't you fussy today?", Daniel cooed at your daughter as he picked her up from her cot, holding her against his chest. Sophia seemed to be going through a rough patch in her sleep, or maybe you had said 'she's a very good baby, sleeps very well', outloud too many times and the universe ought to test you.

Like clockwork, you were up as soon as you heard her cries, shifting your position against the pillows so you could get her, "I have her", your husband said in a low voice, not wanting to disturb your sleepy state. Because Sophia had been struggling with sleep, you and Daniel hadn't been sleeping much either, the only difference being that he wasn't recovering from giving birth to a baby, so between you two, he was the one dealing better with the sleep deprivation.

"Come here, babygirl, I have just what you want", you stretched your arms, holding her and helping her approach her mouth to your nipple, "there we go, my love, it's all good", you smoothed put her head. Daniel excused himself, saying he was going to the kitchen to get something.

You had finished feeding Sophia and gotten up to burp her when Daniel got back, "I was on the phone with my parents, and grandpa Joe and grandma Grace are more than happy to take over and be with Sophia for the afternoon", he offered as he walked closer to you, "you've been stretching yourself thin, and I figured it would do you, and us, some good to have some help. Besides, mum and dad were excited for some cuddles", he attempted, checking any signs of you not agreeing to the idea, "they really don't mind?", you asked, "they don't", Daniel said as he kissed your forehead, "they'll be here in fifteen minutes".

When Joe and Grace arrived, your mother in-law kissed your cheek sweetly before whispering, "go and rest, darling. Don't listen to the voice in your head saying you're a bad mother because you'd like some hours away from her, it's completely okay. She loves you so much, and she wants you, and needs you, to be happy, too", she smiled, rubbing your shoulder as you and Daniel went upstairs while they stayed in the dowstairs area of the house.

"I was thinking we could go and have a shower, those 'everything showers' people talk about", Daniel suggested as he walked you inside your shared bedroom, "I got that set from the laundry room earlier this morning", he said as he kissed your shoulder as you looked at your favourite lounge wear set laying on top of your bed. It was soft and stretchy, so, really, it was the perfect fit for the time being.

"You really are the best, Danny", you whispered, turning around and kissing his lips, "I always try to make sure you know why you keep me around", he joked, picking you up and taking you to the bathroom.

Like he promised, Daniel turned the shower and walked in with you, helping you wash your body and grabbing the razor from your hands, helping you shave your legs before you did the rest, kissing his tanned skin afterwards as you both lathered shampoo in eachother's hair, "I love you so much, Y/N", he would whisper every time he felt like it, "you're the most gorgeous woman", another kiss was pressed on your skin, "the best mummy for Sophia, and the best partner in life".

"My sister said I should get this body oil and make sure you used it, so I think giving you a massage is the best way to guarantee that", he winked once you got out of the shower and wrapped yourselves up in towells, "just be careful around my chest, please", you said as you lied down, seeing Daniel's beaming smile. You had been slowly learning to love your body after having a baby, and seeing you grow so comfortable and proud of your body made him smile as he felt that in a way his words of encouragement and actions had been fruitful.

The massage was blissful and playful, too, giggles flying around in the room as you grabbed some of the oil and rubbed it on Daniel's skin, "thank you, for this, I wouldn't have admitted it, but I needed this", you mumbled, "Soph is downstairs, if they need anything, they'll call, and besides, they raised kids and grandkids of their own. Soph, even with her sleep all messed up, is still the quietest of the grandchildren", he chuckled.

Once your hair was dry, Daniel laid next to you in the bed as you fell asleep, hoping to sleep properly now that you knew your daughter was fine too.

You wake up from the nap to smell some delicious food, heading downstairs to see the table set up, Joe playing with Sophia on her tummy time and Grace taking a tray out of the oven, "I made roast chicken, that recipe you really like", she smiled sweetly before you walked closer to your daughter, "and for her, we took one of the frozen bags in the freezer", she said as she rubbed your back, "you're doing great, darling, she's such a happy baby", she comforted.

"Daniel is a great man", you began, "I know I keep telling you this, but it's true. You raised a great son, both of you did", you told Grace and Joe once Daniel grabbed Sophia and took her to her nursery to change her nappy and put her pyjamas on her, "you are both a great team, dear", Joe added.

(Thank you for submitting an ask 🤍)

#daniel ricciardo blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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scribbledghost · 5 months

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I don’t know if it would be suitable for neighbour!simon… maybe in their soon future🤍 but! how about shaving Simon’s face? For the first time? You know that in his work he goes around hided behind the mask but now, he’s finally in your safe space, after long time of being away, and he needs to shave so.. would you do the honor? Gently keeping his face still, your delicate fingers on his a bit rosy cheeks, you’re very very concentrated so you don’t notice how heavy with emotions are his eyes?🩷

AKDSHFKHSAD YES??? The soft intimacy!!!! The trust!!!! I am Compromised!!!

I headcanon this comes once you've been formally together for a while. At first, you're hesitant. Because what if you cut him? It's easy enough to shave your own skin, but it feels like shaving someone else's might be a bit daunting.

He's... adamant though. Softly explaining that he really wants you to do this for him, knowing you won't hurt him. If you really refuse, he won't push, but he wants to drive home just how much he trusts you. And there is an element of trust there - even though most of today's razors aren't exactly the "Sweeney Todd" type from days past, you can still nick or cut someone if you're not careful. But he knows you're careful, and knows you'll do your best not to do that.

You gently hold him still, turn his head when you need, and check in every so often to make sure he's still good (mostly cause he just. Closes his eyes half the time). But on the off-chance that his eyes are open, he's very grateful that you're so focused on doing a good job and not giving him razor burn to notice how he's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

#yall have such good ideas i love u #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #neighbor ghost #ghost scribbles

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chlorinecake · 9 months

Text

“I cherish you” | N.RK ff ༄

༄ Last year’s Valentine’s Day marked the day you and your boyfriend Riki first starting dating. Ever since then, he spoils you on the 14th day of every month in honor of your love story…

🍒 pairing bf!nishimura riki x fem!reader genre romance, fluff 🍒

༄ wc 1.1k ~ written with black reader in mind ~ requested !

You found your boyfriend in your shared apartment bathroom doing his typical morning routine. You walked up behind him, snaking your hands beneath his shirt to pull him closer. Pressing your cheek against his back, you could smell a new body wash he must’ve used. Or maybe it was cologne?

“Morning,” Riki mumbled through a mouthful of minty foam, wiping his mouth before turning to kiss the top of your head.

“Good morning,” you returned warmly.

He ran a clawed hand through your hair before his fingers got caught in your curls. You winced at the sudden tug before giggling at the worried expression that waved over Riki’s face.

“Sorry, baby! Did I hurt you?”

“No, Riki, but you did remind me that I need to comb my hair,” you smiled, freeing him from your clingy grasp.

You searched through the bathroom drawer for a few products to style your hair. In the meantime, your boyfriend was busy lathering his face with shaving cream.

“Uh,” you started confused, “what’re you doing?”

“Prepping to shave my beard.”

You snorted, “Your what?”

“I’m not as young as I was when we first met, y’know? This is what men do.”

“Mhm, and who told you that?”

“Heeseung-hyung. He’s one of the best people I can go to for advice. Especially with girls.”

“Oh, so you’re a man and I’m just a girl?”

“For now, yes. Though, maybe in a few years I’ll make you my woman if you stick around long enough,” he winked, making you cringe but in a loving way.

“Hey, I wanna try,” you chirped, snatching the razor from his hand.

“Woah, ____! Did you forget there’s a sharp blade on that thing?”

“Oh, c’mon! You’re a man now, remember? Don’t tell me you’re scared of your girlfriend.”

He shook his head at your teasing, “only when she’s on her period… that’s when she get's really crazy.”

You nudged him in the shoulder, making him giggle.

“Okay, now hold still,” you said, guiding him by his chin as you slid the razor against his face, checking after each stroke for any access hair. “Riki, there’s nothing on here!”

“Gimme that,” he said, taking the razor from your hand to examine it for himself. And to no one’s surprise, there wasn’t any hair on it.

“Ugh, this is useless,” he whined, wiping his face before leaving the bathroom.

You followed after him, “Riki, is everything okay? Why’re you putting so much stress into getting ready today?”

He looked at you with offended eyes, “Don’t tell me you forgot today marks our 14th month anniversary.”

Suddenly, everything started to make sense.

“Riki, you don’t have to try and impress me. I love you just the way you are like I always have,” you smiled, holding his hands in yours.

“I love you too, ____, but that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna spoil you on our anniversary.”

Riki was never one to consider gift-giving to be one of his love languages. Not until he asked you to be his girlfriend on Valentine's Day over a year ago.

The day started with him showering you with gifts and praise as an attempt to earn your love which he already had. These days, your romantic boyfriend can't help but to celebrate the day he won you, even though his friends call him a simp for it.

And in perfect cliche fashion, your anniversary happens to fall on the 14th day of every month, which is what brings you here today.

“Spoil me, huh?” You grinned, “so what do you have planned? I mean, sometimes I feel like we’ve done everything already.”

“You know I'll always think of something new. But for now, it's a surprise. You’ll find out after we finished getting ready.”

You and your boyfriend shared the bathroom for the next 25 minutes as you two got dressed together, wearing the cutest matching red outfits that he picked out a whole week prior to today.

“You look absolutely stunning, ____,” he marveled, taking in your frame like a work of art.

Your stomach fluttered at his remark, “Oh please, you’re just proud of your work.”

“Maybe,” he smirked, pulling a large bouquet of red roses from behind his back.

“Riki,” you began before he took your hand, interlacing your fingers around the flower stems.

“I wanna get a picture of you like this,” he smiled, counting down from three before snapping a quick picture, “Don’t worry, I won’t post it anywhere,” he said, noticing that you seemed a bit awkward.

You walked outside with his arm linked in yours, still holding the rose bouquet. You two made your way past the familiar shops that lined the city streets beyond your apartment, taking in the beautiful early morning scenery.

That’s when you two spotted a band of instrumentalists, harmonizing to a romantic tune. You looked up at Riki with playful eyes, communicating to him that you wanted to dance.

Knowing your boyfriend, he would happily oblige to any opportunity to dance, especially with the love of his life.

“May I,” he asked cornily, bowing before you.

“Yes, Riki, you may.”

He took the bouquet from your grasp, placing it on a nearby coffee table before tucking a rose behind your ear.

“And for you,” you smiled, placing one of the roses between his teeth.

He took your hand in his, pulling you close before guiding you across the floor along with the music, bracing your lower back.

Your hands sat at his shoulders before getting lost in his hair, staring into his piercing eyes as the heart-warming melody came to a sudden stop.

It was starting to rain.

The band busied themselves with packing up their instruments before fleeing the moist environment.

"Welp, that was fun while it lasted," Riki chimed, grabbing the bouquet before walking back in the direction of your apartment.

"Hey, I thought we were gonna spend the day out," you pouted confused.

"I know, but I had a picnic date planned in the park, which I doubt would be much fun in this weather."

He held the flowers over your two heads as a way to shield yourselves from the down pour.

"Sooo, what do we do, now?"

"Hmm," he hummed in thought, "we could always just run around the city and hope we don't get struck by lightening. Orrrrr, we could have a dance off in the rain! First one to slip loses."

"Riki!"

"What? That's better than me sulking over how a few grey clouds ruined our anniversary."

You looked at his face which fell from its original enthusiasm, trying to think of something to cheer him up.

You smacked the bouquet out of his hand, running ahead of him.

"Yah, ____! I paid good money for these!"

"Last one to the apartment's a rotten egg," you giggled, hardly getting far with your high heels against the rain.

Riki counted from five, giving you a few more seconds to get ahead before sprinting ahead of you, laughing as you pouted in defeat.

Fin.

🌹 Special thanks to @microwvdstrawb3rri3s for requesting this piece! This was my first time writing an established relationship fic so I hope you guys enjoyed it!

🌹 Taglist (open) — @fanficfactoryfoxxx @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @kaykay11sworld @rickysblkgf @4imhry @yngwife @bambangan @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @nikipedia07 @naddii @beomgyusonlywife @rickysblkgf @nikiiitties @03sunoos

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cod-dump · 2 months

Note

This could very much be an odd idea but thoughts on Nik not trusting barbers to get his hair or beard right (the word "beard" is used loosely) so he just does it himself, straight razor and all. Eventually Price finds out about this and, being a man of duty, takes it upon himself to take care of his partner. This ends up with Price sitting on Nik's lap with all of Nik's shaving tools laid out and Price sternly telling him to "shut up and sit still" everytime he tries to make a joke about their proximity

Date Night

PriceNik

———

Nik won’t cut his hair or shave until he considers it bothersome. And when he does it’s all coming off. And Price hates it. Nik would just take it all off at once and Price wouldn’t even recognize him. They made their current arrangement years ago after Price finally had enough.

Now they had a system. Nik would tell Price when his hair and scruff would be bothering him and Price would quickly arrange a time they could sit down and he would take care of it. Nik liked to consider it date night for them because it was always so tender. The way Price would hold his face and get close? He looked forward to it ever since the first time.

He would get drinks for them (afterwards on Price’s insistence) and order in food. He would have some music lined up that would be soft, something Price liked and enjoys. Nik took date night seriously, especially since it was an opportunity to get Price to relax.

“What did you order this time? Smells amazing,” Food had gotten here sooner than expected, an error on Nik’s part. So now the delicious aroma was haunting them before Price had even started trimming his hair.

“Indian, your favorite.”

Nik made sure to go the extra mile to get food from Price’s favorite place, a whole country away. But nothing was too much for him to get something that’ll make Price’s night. Nik had one of his men go out and get it for him with the promise of giving him enough money to get himself something extra (be it food or something else entirely).

“We’re already married, you don’t have to keep trying to impressing me,” Price joked as he made sure he had everything he needed before he started on Nik’s hair.

“Nonsense, have to make sure you know you made the right choice.”

“Again with the charming.”

Price had turned away, confirming that Nik had him blushing. It was one of Nik’s favorite hobbies and one that he’s only allowed to do behind closed doors. He made Price blush once in front of the boys and that’s all they needed to torment the man for weeks on end. Price hasn’t forgiven him and sworn him from flirting in public. Nik had to play nice to get back the right to be affectionate in the common area again.

“Seeing some silver here.”

Nik almost melted when he felt his husband’s fingers touch his hair, his nails light scraping his scalp as he combed through with his fingers. Nik easily could fall asleep with Price petting his hair, but Price wasn’t allowing him and tugged a strand harshly.

“Sit up straight.”

“Bossy,” Nik teased which immediately earned him another tug. Nik sat up straight and allowed Price to comb through his hair before he started trimming.

Price was surprisingly very good with hair. Nik suspected he started when Ghost was brought home, very traumatized and unable to look himself in the mirror or go out in public. Price had taken it upon himself to help the man keep up with his appearance. Once Ghost gotten better, Price seemed to turn his new skill onto Nik.

“You would make a good living in a hair salon. Just need to get practice with color.”

Price hummed as he cut Nik’s hair, “You offering?”

“Hm, no. I might just keep the grey, remind myself how far I’ve survived.”

Price finished with his hair, now just under his ears. Price gently fluffed his hair, perhaps admiring his work or being affectionate.

“Could get some orange in there.”

Nik snorts, “Orange?”

“Maybe some purple, too.”

“I like Halloween but not that much,” Nik laughed, once again melting against Price’s touch. Price’s laugh was heavenly and Nik couldn’t stop grinning.

Price deemed Nik’s hair acceptable before he went to prepare to shave and trim the scruff on his face. Nik wasn’t as gifted in growing facial hair as Price but it still needed to be maintained to look presentable. Nik was just shaving it all off but Price had mentioned he liked it on him, so it stayed. And now Price tended to it, Nik happily letting him do whatever he wished.

Price used to stand over him to shave and trim the scruff, but they both found that the process was much easier and faster with Price on Nik’s lap.

“Keep your hands to yourself.”

Nik grinned at the warning, “I’m used to you not having so much clothing when you’re like this.”

Price smacked his head with a glare, Nik continuing to grin. Price being so close to his face, holding it and using sharp objects — It was safe to say that he was the only person Nik had ever let get this close. He was one of the only people Nik would ever trust to do this. Price knew that, Nik could tell with how he touched him. How his fingers stroked his cheek, how soft his eyes were.

Price knew how much Nik trusted him, how much he loved him. Moments like this meant so much to them. These moments allowed them to demonstrated how much they meant to the other, how much trust and love they had. Nik had closed his eyes, the ultimate sign of him allowing himself to be completely vulnerable and open to Price. It was a gift, something Price returns fully.

“There,” Price leaned back on Nik’s lap, hands on the man’s shoulders. The movement caused Nik to open his eyes, greeted by Price’s eyes which were full of love, “Much better.”

“Still has handsome as the day we met?” Nik asked, completely at Price’s mercy.

“No. Much more now than ever.”

Nik couldn’t help but laugh, quickly silenced by a kiss to his lips. The kiss was short, Price pulling away and pressing a kiss to his nose before moving up and kissing his forehead. The sweet, simple act made Nik shudder, he had never expected himself to fall so deep for someone.

“Я тебя люблю,” Nik said without thinking, a phrase he has said countless times in his life, and the majority of it was for the man currently on his lap and destroying every wall he has ever built.

“I love you, too.”

There was moment of silence, of them staring into each other’s eyes, before Price pulled away and got off Nik’s lap.

“Go clean up so we can eat. I’m starving.”

Nik laughed and did as he was told. As he strip himself of his clothes and went to shower, he couldn’t help but smile and think about how much he adores these moments.

#call of duty #modern warfare #cod nikolai #john price #ficlet #drabble #pricenik #ask #thanks for the ask <3

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