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astarioffsimpmain · 6 months

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Astarion Headcanons

Because Astarion consumes nearly every braincell I own, here's some headcanons on how Stari finds comfort in your boobs.

Warnings: Nudity; mentions of trauma; nightmares; unintentional puncture wounds

He loves to use them as his pillows; your bedroll is never your own again after Astarion discovers that you don't mind welcoming him in during the night when he's feeling exceptionally lonely and vulnerable. Not that you mind, what with how he nuzzles his face between your breasts, breathing in your familiar scent and wrapping his arms tightly around your middle. You melt a little inside when the vampire spawn fully relaxes into you after a few deep breaths, and you start running your fingers through his silver curls, always surprised at how downy they are, despite how much they'd been through. A contented shudder goes through his body and he sighs into your skin, his breath the only thing that runs hot about him, sending a shiver through you as well. You can't help but let the corners of your mouth curl upwards and your eyes fall closed at the sensations encircling you. Being entangled in him is just as comforting to you as it is to him, and you know that if you didn't have to arise the next morning in order to continue your journey, you'd be fully satisfied with not knowing where you ended and he began for as long as he allowed.

He uses them as stress balls (and you cannot convince me otherwise); you've awoken in the middle of the night with a yelp of pain in your chest. There's several seconds of panic before you realize that the source of the pain is Astarion's sharp fingernails digging into your ample breast. He's still asleep, but he's writhing, his brow furrowed and eyes clamped shut. 'Nightmare,' you think to yourself as you gently try to pry his five tiny daggers from your flesh. But he must have felt safety slipping away in his sleep, for his grip only tightened and you had to bite the inside of your mouth as his nails punctured your skin and tiny streams of blood appeared around your areola. "Stari," you mutter, your fingers finding his hair and massaging his scalp gently as you crane your neck down to kiss his damp forehead. The pain is bringing tears to your eyes, but you know trying to toss him off is no good: his grip is like iron on you. So you shush him quietly and tenderly run your warm palms along every bit of skin you can reach, trying to soothe his subconscious horrors from your helpless place beside him. Eventually his hold on you went slack, and you were able to pull his nails from your skin, shuddering in pain as each jagged edge flayed your skin on its way out. 'We're going to have to discuss nail trimmers' you thought humorlessly as you wiped the blood away with your tunic that lay close by. "Mmm, love?" His sleepy voice froze you in your movements, head turning to find him blinking slowly, prying his eyelids open as he returned to consciousness. He reaches for you, hardly even awake enough to know where he is, but still the first thing he wants is you. You can't deny him, so you reach back for him, pulling his face to your bosom and planting kisses in his curls. But he stiffens, and you cringe, realizing that he must have smelled your blood. "Darling, did I-?" He whispers, ghosting his thumb over the clotting nail marks. "You were having a nightmare, my love." You murmur between kisses to the crown of his head, the tips of his ears, his forehead, nose, and cheeks. He tries to pull away, ashamed of hurting you, but you hold him fast, your arms circling his shaking shoulders as you pull him back to you. "I knew what I was signing up for, my darling." You thumb the skin of his shoulders where you hold him and he releases a soft sob into the valley of your breasts. "I hurt you. The one person who's never hurt me." He wails. "My dear heart, I will suffer that and much more to see you smile again. You will never suffer alone again." Gently, you tilt his chin up and wipe the tear streaks from his beautiful face. "I love you," You whisper to him. "I love all of you." Another whimper left his lips and he nodded, burying his head in the crook of your neck and wrapping his arms around you. 'One day,' you thought. 'One day he won't have to hurt like this anymore, and I'll be there to see him smile again.'

Fin

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unibono · 1 year

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📦💙Artikelname:Unibono All-in-One Wiederaufladbarer Nasenhaarschneider und Ohrenhaartrimmer, Nasenhaartrimmer für Herren Bart & Augenbrauen Rasur, Wasserdichte Gesichtshaarentferner Ohne Zupfen, Gold

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pritom-karmokar · 2 years

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Best 5 All-in-One Trimmer | Which One You'll Choose?

Introduction: Best 5 All-in-One Trimmer

Hi dear, welcome you to the new blog of Best 5 All-in-One Trimmer.

It is a daily task for men to go to salons to size or cut their beards and hair. As a result, they can keep their manhood looking neat and clean. But sometimes, you have to wait for hours of times.

But it’s very boring or time-waste for all men. Of this, they face problems with their task or other. But this problem will be solved if you have a trimmer.

If you have a trimmer then you can keep yourself neat and clean at home and get rid of this pain. But for this, you need a trimmer first. Are you looking for a trimmer? But don’t know which one will be better for you?

Now, complete this blog. In this blog, I’ll share with you the best 5 trimmers in the market. Most importantly, every trimmer price is under 25 dollars

These Trimmers are:

1. Remington PG6856 All-in-One Trimmer

2. Braun MGK3220 6-in-1 Trimmer

3. Wahl Clipper 5622 All-in-One Trimmer

4. Wahl Clipper 9918-6171 All-in-One Trimmer

5. Philips Norelco MG3750/60 All-in-One Trimmer

1. Remington PG6856 All-in-One Trimmer

Remington PG6856 Trimmer Features:

All-in-One Versatility – Remington is an all-in-one versatility trimmer. It is a full-size trimmer including a nose, ear, and detail trimmer. After that, it comes with 5 beards and stubble combs. So, it provides your face, head, and detail trimming.

Heavy Duty Polycarbonate Shell – This groomer is virtually indestructible. The heavy-duty polycarbonate shell protects the high-performance interior.

Advanced Cordless Power – Remington includes advanced cordless power technology in this trimmer. So, this will provide up to 90 minutes of cordless runtime.

Stainless Steel Blades – The self-sharpening blades are engineered for long-lasting precision and premium cutting performance.

Read The Full Blog Here >>

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icallhimjoey · 9 months

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you wanna try to get back into writing? Say no more! The other day I saw a insta reel (it was in Spanish) but it was about a couple and the guy had asked his gf to shave his beard for him and that was the cutest thing ever. The delicacy of it all. So I was thinking, possibly write something like that but with joe? He needs to shave for an upcoming movie role and he asks if reader wants to do it, and it’s the most intimate thing ever!

girl... just, fuck all the way off, jesus christ Wordcount: 2.9K

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Love You A Twelve

"So, good news and bad news,"

"Uh oh," you'd only just gotten in and toed off your shoes by the front door as Joe appeared in the hallway to welcome you home.

You narrowed your eyes to gather how serious Joe was being.

Sometimes, the bad news was hardly bad news, but just some stupid silly shit like, "You've got to hang out with me all night." and you'd pretend to be so disappointed for a second.

Other times, it was the good news that was hardly good and didn't make up for the bad news at all.

Unfortunately, going by Joe's apologetic eyes, it was probably the latter.

"Bad first," you winced as you said it.

"They need me clean-shaven tomorrow,"

Your stomach dropped.

"What? But– noo," you whined, eyebrows immediately knitting, mouth pulling into a pout.

Joe copied your face and revealed he was holding a trimmer.

"Yea, sorry... it's got to go,"

"Is the good news that you're joking?"

Out of your coat, with your shoes neatly placed to the side, you didn't waste time to get your hands on his scruff.

"No, the good news is, I thought it'd be nice to let you do it," Joe said, sticking out his chin a little as your fingers curled to scratch him underneath.

You gasped a little gasp, eyes immediately twinkling.

"Yea?" Joe asked for confirmation on your sudden excitement.

"I mean, no," you let your eyes roam his jawline. "But, yes."

You loved your boyfriend either way, but there was something about Joe with a little facial hair. Made him look extra relaxed. Extra soft. And it helped that you got to see his hands more when he had a little scruff going. Joe was a fidgeter, and when there was a little bit of beard to touch, that's just what he would do.

Smooth bare-cheeked Joe was cute.

But ungroomed bristle-cheeked Joe was just... better.

Joe moved the trimmer he was holding until it hovered right in front of your face. You used your forehead to push against it, scrunching up your nose as you did. Made Joe laugh.

"Later, let me... I want to enjoy this for a bit first," you let your fingers comb through the hair underneath his chin, backcombing it and then smoothing it back down again.

"Will have to be before dinner, though," Joe said, struggling to get the words out because your thumbs were pushing his top lip down as you stroked his little moustache.

So shiny.

The light caught it just right.

"Why?"

"You'll have wine,"

That made you huff out a laugh.

Yea, all right. You understood wanting to avoid putting a double edge safety razor into your hands when there was alcohol in your system.

You suggested sitting down to watch a new episode of the show you were watching together, then shave Joe after, and then have dinner together. That would give you at least forty minutes to touch his face.

"It's just hair," Joe said, pretending for a second that he didn't like how dramatic you were about it. "Grows back."

"If they want you clean-shaven, they're not just going to want it for tomorrow, are they?" you reasoned, plopping down onto the sofa, reaching for him with grabby hands until he sat down next to you.

"You're judging me for loving you," you cradled his full head in your arms.

"Not judging," Joe mumbled, unable to hide his grin. "But on a scale of one to ten of loving me, right now? Ten."

"Always a ten," you argued, using both hands to scratch at his cheeks, careful to not hurt him with your nails.

"No," Joe laughed, turning his head a little to look at you. "Without this?" he pointed at his own face, looked up at the ceiling to think for a second, and then concluded, "Like a six, maybe."

You gasped through a shocked laugh and bumped your shoulder into his. "Piss off, it's always a ten, you idiot,"

Joe scrunched his nose up at you through a smile and used the remote to find the right show and right episode to turn on.

You took a moment to look at him a second.

"Maybe right now it's just a little more. Like, a twelve," you leant over to press a kiss to his cheek that Joe accepted easily. "Just a little extra."

"You love me a twelve?" Joe pretended like the extra numbers added made his heart explode in his chest as the TV launched itself into a short recap from last week's episode.

"So healthy," you mused, "For us to measure love in numbers."

It prompted Joe to whisper numbers at you all throughout the forty minutes of jaw touches and chin scratches as you stared at the TV.

"Seventeen,"

"Twenty-one,"

"Twenty-eight,"

You had your full attention with what was happening on the screen, but then Joe breathed, "Ooh, fifty-four," and you looked to see him with his eyes closed, relishing under your touch. You'd just started circling a fingertip in the little area underneath his ear, sort of on the edge of his hair growth.

"That's a big jump,"

"Mhmm," Joe hummed, leaning into you a little more. When you moved fingers to rake through the hair just below his jaw, where it was longest and thickest, Joe protested, said, "No, fifty-three," and used his own hand to place yours back where he wanted it. "Fifty-four."

It was so stupidly cute, it made you break into a slow smile because you just adored him so fucking much. Made you snuggle up a little more, thinking Joe's a dork and you just wanted to eat him up.

Just when Joe started considering not shaving at all, and letting hair and make-up deal with it tomorrow morning, the episode ended and you smacked his leg as you got up.

"Okay, let's do this,"

You weren't the biggest fan of Joe's bare face, not compared to what you were looking at right now, but you were the biggest fan of getting to groom him.

You loved it when Joe let you scrunch mouse into his curls. Or when you'd get to cut a weird eyebrow hair that stuck out. The big task of shaving the beard off had you excited. Nervous, but excited.

Stood in front of the mirror, Joe got all the things out that you needed and you squealed as you gripped tightly onto the trimmer you were holding. You made eye-contact with Joe in the mirror, and your wild eyes made Joe pause a second.

"Your nerves are making me nervous,"

You gasped dramatically. "You don't trust me?"

Joe carried on, found the shaving cream to place down next to the sink.

"No, I trust you. I don't trust that you trust you,"

Okay, fair. Maybe you didn't need to look at Joe's trimmer like it was a weapon of mass destruction, and maybe you didn't need to hold it like it was one either.

You placed it down next to the tub of moisturizer that Joe placed down as the last thing that was needed.

"All right," Joe turned, ready to give instructions. You directed all your attention towards him, back straight, expression open, ready to convince Joe you were an excellent student. Valedictorian top of the class sort of thing. Joe put his hands on your shoulders and smiled through a shaky exhale which told you you were overdoing it.

You softened your face and turned actual serious for a moment. You saw how it immediately relaxed Joe a little more.

"So," Joe pointed, turning your attention to the counter. "Trimmer first. We're going to get it as short as possible before we go in with the real scary stuff," his fingers moved from the trimmer to the razor.

You nodded. Sounded easy enough.

You looked up and saw Joe looking at you in the mirror, finger still pointing at the razor, and fuck, you loved this man with a beard. Just the look of him made you scrunch your features and reach for his face to hold for one last time.

"You're so cute, are you scared?"

"I'm not scared if you're not scared," Joe cooed.

You let your eyes twinkle, fingers curling to scratch, "Can I play?"

Joe's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Play?!"

You shrugged through a smile, petting his beard then, soft touches.

"Yea, cut you all up, slit your throat,"

Joe grabbed onto your wrists in a faux panic, making you laugh.

"No, like, give you a stupid moustache first, like, full Hulk Hogan, and like– no, what if... so, no moustache, get rid of that, and then leave a stupid thin line along your jaw," as you said it, you let your fingers draw a line from his chin up to his ears.

Joe pursed his lips into a smile and slow blinked at you.

"Fifty-five."

Sap.

You made Joe sit on the edge of the bath and stood between his legs, trimmer in hand. You turned it on, the buzz of it strong in your palm, and were about to move it over when you suddenly pulled your hand back, like you'd forgotten something.

"Sorry, sorry, bye, bye babes," you leant in and kissed Joe on each cheek a couple of times, quick little pecks. "So sorry, you've got to go or he won't make any money and we won't be able to go out to nice restaurants again,"

"Stop," Joe laughed, squeezing your sides.

"Do you need to take your T-shirt off?"

"Oh, you want it off, do you?" Joe wiggled his eyebrows, nearly making you roll your eyes.

"Because we'll get hair everywhere, won't we?"

Before you'd even been able to finish the sentence, Joe'd already pulled his T-shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor right next to you.

Clicking the trimmer back on, you got to work.

Your tactic was, clean him up first. Get the neckbeard gone and get the stray hairs up higher on his cheeks. You were concentrated on your task, brow furrowed and bottom lip bitten into your mouth, and Joe loved that he just got to look at you up close for a little while. You had him stand up to be able to get underneath his chin easier, and then sat him back down when you needed to get his sideburns. Careful fingers placed his head in the position you needed it for the easiest access.

Joe thought of flinching and scream ow really loudly to scare you, but how could he? You looked fucking precious all focussed, so close to his face. Made him think of higher numbers as his scalp tingled with the attention.

When you thought you'd cleaned Joe up enough, made him look as symmetrical as you could, you stepped back and smiled.

"Look," you said, stepping back to make room for him to stand up and see himself in the mirror. "This is what you'd look like if you put effort in," it was a half-joke, commenting on Joe's laziness in beard upkeep.

Joe smiled, turned his head to view it from all angles and then asked, "Do you think it looks better like this? Or like before?"

"Before, this is awful, sit back down," you pushed him back as Joe laughed loudly, holding onto you for leverage as he got sat back down onto the bath ledge.

Time to get most of it off.

With a little less precision, you got back to work and with a little more confidence now, you trimmed all that needed trimming and let Joe hold you by the hips.

You stopped when there were just two really long weird sideburns left, the rest all gone. You clicked the trimmer off and kissed the tips of your fingers, exclaimed, "I'm an artist," pronouncing artist the French way.

Joe touched his cheeks and grimaced. "I don't even want to see this,"

"Can I take a picture?"

"Absolutely not,"

"I'm going to take a picture," you reached for your phone in your pocket.

"No you're fucking not, give me that," a little wrestle broke out where Joe grabbed onto your arm before trying to take your phone from you. It had you shouting, "The artist's canvas isn't meant to talk back!" and "It looks so good, babe!" which was so obviously a lie, you weren't able to say that without giggling.

In the end, you didn't take a picture. Instead trimmed the sideburns down too, and then it was time to get your hands dirty.

Whilst shaking the loose hair from his body, Joe instructed you on how to apply shaving cream, gave you tips on how to hold the razor, which direction to go, how hard to press down...

"You're talking to me like I've never shaved before,"

You'd argue that you'd put far more time into shaving various body parts than he had.

"Not around an Adam's apple, no, so be careful,"

"Listen," you started, slapping shaving cream to Joe's face, slightly offended now because trimming his beard had been so easy. "This isn't a vicious attack, this is a loving shave. If I can shave around my own ankle bones and– my vagina, my literal vagina, my labia, my–"

"All right, all right, all right," Joe held onto both your wrists because you were getting shaving cream a little too close to his eyes. "Just, be careful, is all I'm asking."

He straightened his back and got a quick kiss in before you could move back, getting the white foam onto your face as well.

All right.

Time to get serious now. You wiped your own face down, made sure you had all of Joe's beard covered, left some water in the sink so you could rinse the razor in between strokes and got into the right position.

Joe wrapped his arms around you this time and you felt his thighs squeeze together on either side of your legs.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

You honestly didn't understand what Joe seemed so nervous for. You had this. Joe helped by moving his mouth to the side and sticking his chin out to pull the skin tight, and it was easy. So easy. You didn't like how scratchy all of it sounded, and how Joe's arms tensed around you when you moved around his throat, but the double edge razor worked like a charm.

You were definitely going to use it on your legs in the shower later.

You spent way longer than you needed to on him. The fact that the hair wasn't very dark and a little difficult to see in some areas was a good excuse, but you didn't need it. Joe just let you work until you declared it finished and enjoyed the time it granted him to stare at your features. At everything that made you you.

He'd be unaware how he'd slowly move his face to look at you, and you had to move it back to face the side several times. He tried to hide his smile every time you did that, but it was pointless. You witnessed every single little muscle twitch in his face and loved him more for every single one of them.

"There," you finally said, patting his face with a towel and admiring your work as you moved around him to see him from all angles. "Done."

Joe smiled into the towel and before going in to touch it himself, or getting up to look at the results in the mirror, he cupped your face with both his hands and pulled you into a kiss.

"Does it look good?" Joe asked in between kisses.

"Looks amazing," you answered. "I did a great job." Joe saw how you eyed the bare skin.

"Yea? Not a six, but a ten like you said?"

You grinned and leant back down for another kiss.

"Not a ten." you whispered, fingers now sliding down the new smooth softness of his face. Not as satisfying as freshly shaved dolphin legs, but still nice. "A twelve still."

Joe was expecting you to tease and give him a stupid number, like a negative four, or whatever. Going up more made his stomach flutter. Made him pull you into him even more. Made him kiss you stupid, which was extra enjoyable, because Joe was all soft and smelled all fresh now.

"Love you a twelve too."

"Just a twelve? Was a fifty-five before..."

Joe tilted his head, squeezed an eye shut as he looked up at you and he just felt drunk with love, it was a little ridiculous.

"Fifty-six, then."

"No, I think twelve is the highest number you're allowed to love someone."

Joe let out a frustrated sigh, clearly joking. A what-the-fuck-do-you-want sort of thing that made you laugh loudly.

"All right, a twelve then." Joe stood up, kissed you once more before taking a look at himself in the mirror.

He looked normal.

Like he'd just shaved himself.

Except when he shaved himself, he didn't have a beaming girlfriend stood next to him, giddily awaiting his reaction and approval of her work.

"Looks amazing,"

"Yea?"

"Absolutely." Joe curled an arm around your shoulder to hook your neck and pull you in to kiss you on the cheek as you each looked at each other in the mirror.

"Twelve out of ten."

---

The Taglisted

@a-time-for-wolvess, @adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddie-joe-munson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frogers, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @ohmeg, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thefemininemystiquee, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @yelyahcardella

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #rpf #icallhimjoey #love you a twelve

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sofasoap · 3 months

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At the barbers

Pairing: John Price x F!Medic! Reader (call sign : Chameleon)

Summary: Part of @glitterypirateduck's John Price "O, Captain! Challenge" prompt used : 92: Giving Price a haircut and/or shave

Warning: T-M rating.

A/N: as mention previously in my Little secret series, Reader is from immigrant/non-Caucasian background. I know nothing about military. Thank you @mini-metal for giving me few suggestions and few ideas! *hugs*

Part of the Memory in a Fragrance series Part of Little secret series

Master list

“Love.”

“Hmmm?”

“Would you mind giving me a hand here please?” John struggled as he tried to lift his injured arm to trim his beard.

You sighed. “I am only good with surgical knives and scissors.” You took the trimmer off his hand and gently pushed his arm down. “Why not go to a barber?”

“.... I am not quite comfortable with someone holding a blade to my neck.”

“And you are comfortable with ME doing it?” you cocked an eyebrow.

He hummed. “That’s because you are my wife. I trust you with all my life.” he pressed a kiss into your forehead. Wrapping his good arm around you as you sink into his embrace.

“Well I am flattered by the great Captain Price trusting me with a knife to his throat.” you giggled, “But I really wouldn’t trust myself to trim my own dead ends off, let alone take a risk of destroying your luscious mutton chop.” You could almost feel him rolling his eyes as he mumbled something incoherent.

“How about one of the boys helping you?”

“I don’t trust them either.” he rumbled. “I trust them with my life.. But I wouldn’t trust them NOT destroying my beard. I already heard them plotting to shave my beard off in my sleep a few times.”

You couldn't help but laugh. “ Well… We gotta think of something. Can’t let you leave your hair and beard go until your arms heal….”

The strong leathery, lavender and cedarwood, faint hint of cigar smell hits you as soon as the two of you walk into the shop. The old radio playing some jazz music in the background, the old barber sitting on the wooden stool, reading the newspaper. It brings you distant memories. One of those rare happier moments when you were younger….

John finally agreed after a bit of coaxing from you to get his hair and beard done by the professional instead of you trying your luck.

“I will go with you, how about that? And maybe I can learn a few tricks and tips from the professional?” you suggested.

The barber waved to your husband to sit down on the chair after you explained to him what needs to be done. He was more than happy to teach you how to help John to maintain his pride and joy.

Price couldn’t hold back his smile as he saw how focused and concentrated you are, pouting and wrinkling your nose as you listened to the barber explaining each step and how to use the tools. It helps to distract him from some strangers working so closely to him with sharp apparatus. The barber even handed over the scissors a few times for you to try out.

“Stop moving, you are laughing too much.” you mumbled as you tried to trim the extra long strains around the edge of his jaw. “I don’t think you want me to accidentally take a chunk out of your beard, and have the boys laugh at you at work.” “I could always shave all my beard off.” “Oh so you changed your mind? You're definitely going to give them a heart attack and give me a heart break if you do that. So… Never.” you laughed as you handed the scissors back to the barber.

“You get to see Lieutenant John Price?”

“As much as you were a handsome young man back then,I would rather keep that memory in the photos.” You pointed out as you sat back down, letting the professional get back to work.

You observe your husband’s side profile with a faint smile on your face as the barber finishes off the rest of the trimming and hair cut. Even after years of marriage, you still have a hard time believing, this handsome man is your husband.

The moment you set your eyes on him, you didn’t think you had much of a chance. The ranks, the personality, the background…. Everything.

But he chose you.

“I choose you? I should be thankful you chose me, my love.” he whispered into your ear one night after you confessed your insecurity. Nuzzling his face into your neck. “For bearing my temper…my imperfections.”

“What do you think?” he looked at your eyes through the mirror as the barber dust the rest of the beard and hair off his shoulder, seeking for approval.

Moving yourself to stand in front of him, you gently lay your hand on his face, tilting it to the left, and to the right, and finally, giving him a kiss on the lip, enjoying the smell of the aftershave.

“Handsome. And the best mutton chop I have ever seen.”

“You sound like you have seen quite a few in your life.” he chuckled as thank and paid the barber for his service.

“Maybe, maybe not.” you teased him as you wrap your arm around him. “But it’s definitely the mutton chop that always gives me a good time.” you could see his cheek redden under the beard. “Now, it’s not so scary is it? Having someone else to trim your beard for you.”

“If you come with me again next time.” he squeezed your hand fondly.

“Gladly.”

“Oh what, you mean we missed out a chance of trying to shave his beard off?” “And You will get your mohawk shaved off too if you do that, MacTavish.”

Thank you @glitterypirateduck for hosting another wonderful event!!!! *hug*

Tag list: @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

@homicidal-slvt @mini-metal

@okayyadriana @deadbranch @cumikering @siilvan

@random-thot-generator @random0lover @devcica @nrdmssgs @glitterypirateduck @mmyrrhh

@mistydeyes, @groguspicklejar @roosterr

@gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot, @writeforfandoms @whydoilikewhump @tapioca-marzipan @alypink, @liyanahelena, @phoenixhalliwell

#ocaptainchallenge #call of duty #john price #captain john price #captain price #john price x reader #john price x f!reader #john price x you #sofasoap writes

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littleadaline · 3 months

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Broken Record [P.G6]

Tous les mêmes by Stromae

Warnings: Angst 🤭?????

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: In my anti-Cupid era. COPE.

Part II

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First occurrence:

“Pablo Páez Gavira! Your socks are on the stairs again!” You yelled out, picking up Pablo’s sweaty training socks. A few weeks after moving in together, Pablo’s habits started to worsen. Socks left and right. Shirts left and right. Unkept personal space, hair from his beard trimmer sprinkled in the bathroom sink. Every single time, an argument erupted.

“Pablo, your socks are still on the stairs. I asked you to put them away hours ago. I’ve already done laundry, I’m not doing a load just for your socks.” Your words echoed against the four walls of your room, Gavi’s focus being solely on his phone. “Oye, I’m talking to you!” You snapped your fingers at him.

“Mh, yeah. Thanks for the laundry, amor.” He said, barely looking up from his phone.

You sighed, exhausted from picking up after him. “Why do I stay?” You asked yourself.

Calling Aurora, you sobbed as you explained her brother’s behaviour.

“I don’t know what to do anymore. He’s just… a slob. Dirty dishes everywhere, dirty clothes. Tissues and towels randomly discarded. I don’t recognize the state of our home anymore. And I can’t keep cleaning for the both of us anymore, not as he undoes everything the second I’m done.”

But Aurora’s words were only excuses. She made you feel hysterical; unreasonable for feeling the way you did. She idolized Pablo’s actions, refusing to see the emotional and physical strain his behaviour had on you. Sobbing in bed, you turn away from Gavi, refusing to sleep face to face anymore.

Second occurrence:

The house was a mess. With his injury Gavi was always home. You, on the other hand, were juggling between your university classes and your internship, leading to an easier than normal exhaustion rate. Finally pulling up to your street, you prayed that Gavi had remembered to call the plumber. Opening the door, your face fell as you saw the state of the kitchen.

“Pablo…?” You called out for him.

“Gaming room.” His eyes were glued to the screen, barely greeting you as you came into the room.

“What happened in the kitchen?” You asked, a twinge of exhaustion in your voice. You were bracing yourself for one of Pablo’s nonchalant answers.

“Wanted to cook, but the dishwasher was broken. And I was too tired to do the dishes by hand. Why didn’t you tell me the dishwasher was broken?”

“Please tell me this is a joke…Pablo I told you to call the plumber, because the dishwasher is broken. The plumber goes on vacation for the next 3 weeks. That’s 3 more weeks with a broken dishwasher.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Dunno what the big deal is… You can just wash them by hand. Besides, how was I supposed to know to call him?”

“I left you a reminder on your phone, a voicemail and a handwritten note in the kitchen.” You said, slamming the door close.

Instead of catching up on the reports for your internship, you spent that night cleaning up Gavi’s culinary mess. You were finally putting away the final dishes when Hurricane Páez Gavira came and undid everything, leaving you in a state of emotional distress. “Why do I still do this?” You asked yourself.

Third occurrence:

Pablo Gavi. That was the name everyone in the media was talking about.

Gavi, rising midfielder, caught going out with a social media influencer.

Pablo Páez Gavira is simply a man.

Y/N Y/LN unable to keep her man away from other women.

Is infidelity a requirement to being a football player?

Headlines had your head spinning. Yes, Gavi has been caught going out with an influencer notorious for breaking couples. But you weren’t worried, not anymore. Your relationship was barely functioning at this point, with you and Gavi sleeping in separate rooms. In the eyes of the media, you and Gavi were still dating. But in private, you had gone from lovers to strangers in the span of a few months. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, the news stung, but something inside of your soul burst. A feeling of hope overtook you. You started packing your bags, leaving behind anything that reminded you of Gavi. After everything you had put yourself through in order to save the sinking ship that was your relationship; after the nights spent praying for a better partner, you finally had your way out. Gavi would forever be painted as the villain in your relationship, the reason why you had split, the reason why you had changed. And you didn’t mind, not one bit.

“Where are you going?” Pablo’s voice interrupted you.

“Away.” You coldly answered. He shuffled closer, picking up the hoodie he had given you for your 2nd anniversary.

“You forgot to pack this.” He handed it to you. It took a lot of self control to not smack it out of his hands.

“Keep it. I have no use for it anymore.” You lifted your suitcase from the floor, bringing it to the hallway.

“What if you get cold?”

“Why do you care, mh? Why do you suddenly care? Is it because you were caught with that influencer? Was it worth it? Was she worth it? I loved you, Pablo. I really did. But you proved yourself to be a selfish person, and an ever more selfish lover. I’m leaving,” you held back tears. “ I’m leaving this city, you, this house. Whatever happens to you in life, good luck. Maybe we weren’t meant to workout, but I would have loved to be treated with some much deserved respect in this relationship. I hope this failure serves as a lesson for your future relationship.”

“Respect? I respected you-” Pablo started arguing, but was cut off by your voice toppling his.

“You never respected me. I was left to pick up the slack, rain or shine; tired or not; I was the sole caretaker for this house. I cooked for us, I not only cleaned up after myself, but after you! For things I shouldn’t even have to remind you! Like your fucking socks, or the goddam dishes, or to call the fucking plumber. You couldn’t even bother Pablo. And I grew tired. So maybe you cheating off with this influencer isn’t that bad of a thing, because now I have an excuse to say to your face as to why I’m leaving you. Have fun being the villain in this story, Pablo, because I’m done.” You picked up your remaining bags and loaded them off in the trunk of your car.

Pablo was still standing in the doorway, his face closed off. He couldn’t do anything besides watch your car leave the driveway, the portal closing behind you for the last time.

#gavi x yn #fc barcelona #pablo gavi #gavi #barca #barcelona #gavi imagine #gavi one shot #gavi x reader #ferran torres #pedri #fermin lopez

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