Jason Momoa'sCharacters Imagines

Phillip

You came home to find your husband Phillip sitting on the couch in a very tense position; elbows on his knees and looking to make a big decision. Though you dont notice right away, his hands nervously run over his stubbly chin again and again, as if it were a new face. Where his long beard once lived, was now a barren wasteland of chin and stubble.

Hunny, you start, but he leaps from the couch and quickly tries to cover his face from you.

Babe! Youre home early! He babbles, running for the door.

What happened to your beard? You ask, giving him a little smile. Stopping in his tracks, he turns slowly to face you, hands still covering his naked chin.

What do you mean? He asks, voice partially muffled by a hand.

I mean, why is your chin bald? You laugh, pointing to his hand. He slowly drops his digits away from his face to reveal the whole mess. His chin showed proudly, no longer hidden by a forest of dark, course hair.

You hate it. He grumbles, looking to the side to keep from making eye contact. As you approach, his shoulders stiffen. You reach up, gingerly brushing your fingertips across the delectably scruffy shadow across his chin.

I love it. You assure, running the back of your hand across the prickly stubble.

Thank god. I got my beard in some hot ass tar and it wouldnt come out. So I decided to just shave. Its not too shocking, is it? He asks, slinging an arm over your shoulders and tugging you against him, both letting out a laugh as you tumble towards him.

Aw, babe. Im sorry, Im glad youre okay. You babble, hugging his chest tightly.

Im fine, not even a red mark. He boasts, heading you towards the couch to watch your favorite late night crime show and snack on something sugary.