✰crush imagines✰

~makeover~

"Please, C/n! It'll only be twenty-five—thirty minutes, tops!" You plead, eyes gazing up into your boyfriend's with desperation. His eyes flick down to the bag of freshly packaged beauty products, pondering your ask for a moment. They glance back up at you again seconds following, still tinted with perplexity by your ask.

"Why can't you just do it? This is your sponsorship." He refutes, earning an aggravated sigh in response.

"I told you, I just got this facial and need to let my skin breathe. Applying makeup will just clog the pores and ruin it." This specific beauty company stumbled upon your Tik Tok account not too long ago offering to sponsor you and test out their new line of products after seeing how vastly popular you were growing on the app. This company, however, shipped their products over at an expedient rate, and at poor timing. Both you and C/n were still wary of having people over due to the rampant contagion outside of your front door, which left you two (for the most part) locked indoors also. Now post-DIY-facial and with a lack of volunteers, your only choice was to ask the man for help.

"It doesn't have to be elaborate, either! I can just do a natural—" The frantic bargains rolling off of your tongue are silenced by a single mutter from C/n.

"What was that?" You ask again, the excitement building sporadically within you.

"I said 'fine'." He repeats quietly. The squeal you elicited after, as much as he did not want to, made an unstoppable grin break out onto C/n's face. Your arms tugged his frame closer to yours by the back of his neck into an appreciative hug, alongside a quick round of cheers and "thank you" into his naked chest. The feeling of the rumpled bundle of hairs on his torso made you visibly stiffen at a thought that came to mind.

"Uh, there is another thing..." you said, quietly.

"What now?" You could tell he wasn't super happy

"You're gonna have to get rid of some facial hairs, sorry bubba"

C/n held the clean blade in front of him, catching a glimpse of his bearded reflection for a final time as you dug around the bathroom cabinets for a bottle of shaving cream.

"You so owe me for this babe," he scoffs, asking himself how easy you had his willpower wound around your finger. When he first allowed the facial hair to spring up and remain, C/n never found it just to fully rid of it. He and others around him, you included, came to the consensus that it made him appear more mature. It showed growth in him, furthermore.

"Look, I am as disappointed as you are." You reply, jumping up into C/n's frame of view with the bottle of white foam. "But it's what needs to be done."

"Help me?" Dumbfounded for a few moments, your feet stay planted on the bathroom tile as you process C/n's quiet plea. "You never cut your legs or anything...and you owe me." He argues with a small pout upon handing you the razor without hesitation. And who were you to deny these facts? When you first moved in with C/n and became accustomed to his hygienic routines, it too became a tradition of sorts for you to kiss the occasional cut he would splay upon his skin by accident. You choke down a giggle at his adorable request and waste no time making the sink's counter a temporary seat.

"Stay still for me." You advise, spraying a considerable handful of foam into your hands. C/n hums and lets his hands fly to your hips on reflex as you begin smothering his cheeks and chin with the substance. "Cold," he explains his outburst.

You chuckle, leaning down to place a kiss on the tip of his nose. "I think you'll live."

C/n cries again seconds later, asking for music to fill the comfortable silence when you finish applying the foam to his beloved facial hair. You roll your eyes and reach over to rinse your hands in the sink, muttering to yourself. "So needy."

"You wanted to give me a makeover." C/n reminds with a pointed look towards you.

"You wanted to give me a makeover." You mock him in a deeper, accented tone that put his real voice to shame. His hands reach out once more to grab your sides, fingers twitching to jab at your hips as you turn and lift the razor upwards.

"Watch it, hot stuff. I'm not afraid to use this." You tease with a mischievous glare. He only smirks, eyeing your concentrated expression as it turns down to your phone and flicks through your selection of music. After finally hitting shuffle on a playlist you and C/n had been worshipping consistently in the most recent days, the two of you finally return to the task at hand. He hums along to the familiar, mellow tunes while you glide the blade across his face with an attentive grip and unhurried pace. The reverberations from his buzzing lit up the nerves in your fingertips and awakened the butterflies residing in your stomach. A small smile graces your lips without your permission or notice, and when C/n points it out with a smirk of his own, all you could muster was a shrug.

"There you go," you wipe away the excess shaving cream with a damp rag beside you, announcing his shave's completion.

"Wait! You missed a step." The man mutters, crouching down to search the cabinets guarded by your swinging legs. He returns to you with a bottle of aftershave not too long after, eliciting a hum from you.

"How could I forget?" You ask jokingly, pouring a scant amount of the liquid into your hands. When you reached up to pat C/n's cheeks gently, his hands reached to coddle yours and embraced the stinging sensation against his bare cheeks. No time was wasted as he brought his face closer to yours for a loving collision of lips. It was short, sweet, and pure. When you broke away and removed your hands from his cheeks, a small smooching noise echoed amongst the bathroom walls and the two of you chuckled.

"Alright, babe, ready for the next part of your makeover?"

(1052 Words)