#i fucking love neon colours

[gerards-little-killj0y]

angels made from neon and fucking garbage

art by me :D

[scorpiusmalfoylovesoscarwilde]

al would totally wear all black, except ridiculous bright and colourful patterned socks that scorpius buys him on every occasion possible

[lenientravesty]

DO YOU LIKE THE WAY YOUR SKIN FEELS ON YOUR BODY? YOU DON'T? WHY DON'T YOU PULL IT OFF?

----

FUCK YOU TUMBLR IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE TRANSPARENT >:(

i made it black instead to match the vibe better lol

[commander-gloryforge]

BIG NEWS CAT OUTFIT MAKES YOUR EYES GLOW AT NIGHT!!!!

[dove-da-birb]

My Makeup

People seemed interested, so this is a post of my makeup. I didn't include everything I have, as I have more moisturizers, setting powder, setting spray, and brushes. So yeah.

My favs will be bolded.

I use makeup for expression purposes; makeup has no gender babes.

People who seemed interested; @eynnwwyjth, @krenenbaker, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @silvers-numberonefan

Eyeshadow Palettes

Palette; Fierce by Nature from Morphe (I think it's out of circulation now)

1st Row; Trance, Consume, Frenzy, Power Play, Savage, The OG, Disrupt

2nd Row; Temptin', Flame Game, Ferocious, Come Alive, Major Hottie, Stun Wild, Embers

3rd Row; New Flame, Ball of Fire, Red Alert, Make Believe, Unstoppable, Explode, Hot Contents

4th Row; Domination, Full Blast, Ignition, Mesmerize, Inferno, In Command, Hypnotic

5th Row; Stamina, Warning Label, Combust, Outta Control, Smolder, Jolt, Smoked Out

Palette; Oh Boy by Morphe (out of circulation too I think)

1st Row; Hendrix, Derick, Benji, Maddox, Alexander

2nd Row; Jacob, Wyatt, Timmy, Carter, Liam

3rd Row; Max, Kai, Austin, Mace, Blake

4th Row; Bentley, Jax, Chris, Jonah, Oliver

5th Row; Paxton, Knox, Eli, Jace, Daniel

I only really have it to have a neutral palette just in case I need to do something more business or formal.

Palette; 18 Hit Wonder by e.l.f

1st Row; Supreme, Vibrant, Moss, Peachy, Quartz, Pave

2nd Row; Velvet, Electric, Evergreen, Solar, Heat, Candy

3rd Row; Royal, Shade, Element, Summer, Penny, Danger

I also use this to do some dorm-inspired makeup; plus look at that rainbow.

Single Eyeshadows (also blush and highlighters but I use them as eyeshadow too)

Starting at the top left;

Dito Galaxy Shade in Mars

Autobalm Day2Night in Lombard ST

Wander Beauty in Bouquet

Kaleido Cosmetics Skin Blush in Primadonna

Bottom row, left to right;

Nomad Cosmetics Desert Sands

Araceli Jalisco Eyes in Tequila

Estate Dew Me Baked Highlighter Powder in Lit

inmo cosmetics velveteen dream shadow in Kween Bee

Ciate London blush highlighter in Pinch Me

All from IPSY; why did they keep on sending me gold eyeshadows?

Foundations & Moisturizers

Left to right;

Camelina + Strobe Luminizing Primer (I use it as a highlighter)

tarte Maracuja Tinted Hydrator in 10N Fair Neutral

ColourPop Pretty Fresh Foundation in Light 40N

Formula 10.0.6 Thirst No More! Moisturizer

I mix the two shades together, but it also depends on the season. I don't wear foundation very often, so yeah.

Clear Lip Stuff

Left to right;

Bath & Body Works Pumpkin Cupcake

(Malin + Gotez) mojito lip balm

Ciate London Watermelon Burst Hydrating Lip Oil

Jersey Shore Cosmetics Watermelon Moisture Rich Hydrating Balm

Bath & Body Works Champagne Toast Lip Gloss

Lipsticks

Left to right;

e.l.f Sheer Matte Liquid Lipstick in Bright Poppy

Lottie London Slay All Day in Fleek

melt in rebound

Burt's Bees Tinted Lip Balm in Sienna Rose

e.l.f. Sheer Slick in Dragonfruit

bellapierre cosmetics Mineral Lipstick in Envy

Liquid Eyestuff

Left to right;

L.A. Colors Eye Marker in Blue

Covergirl Exhibitionist Lash Enhancing Liquid Eyeliner in Matte Black

Wet n Wild Mega Volume Mascara

item Lid Glaze in Lunar Drop

Kokie Profesional Crystal Fusion Liquid Eyeshadow in Polaris

[britcision]

I count the colourful suits I see in stores even now and there are some colours in the men’s section these days… and every single one stands out and is all the brighter for how recent that change is

We can get there

We can get men some colour back, and it’s starting

I’m not sure how well that translates to the body language though, so I hope that’s gotten better too

still so fucking weird to go from real life, where a cis man being flamboyant/effeminate/camp is judged like 70+% by how he speaks and carries himself, to online queer communities, which often seem to have no concept of male gender non-conformity that doesn’t involve wearing a skirt

[gtgbabie0]

-Sevika x Reader

Synopsis: {Sevika has some trouble with her mechanical arm, you offer her help}

For my other works my Masterlist is here <3

softSevika,softSevika,softSevika! Enjoy my lovelies <3 💕

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The pale light of the moon was drowned out by the neon signs that flicker soft colours of pink and blue which bleed through your small apartment, it was the only source of light guiding Sevika through the room before she finds the light switch, clumsily flicking it on.

It had all gone so horribly wrong so quickly, what was meant to be a simple drop off and pick up turned into a violent mess— fucking useless, she thought bitterly. It’d be the last time she would work with some newbies who couldn’t tell their left from their right.

Her frustrations were bubbling over, that much was clear when she slams the front door shut, immediately wincing at the loud noise and once again she silently curses, this time at herself.

It was well past midnight and you were definitely knocked out like a light, it was endearing how quickly you fell asleep, one moment the pair of you would be talking then the very next you were snoring your head off. The thought of you curled up in your shared bed with your face smushed against the soft pillows makes her smile— the type that softens her hardened features.

It almost made her forget about the dull ache that seized her muscles, almost. She needed a drink.

So with a bottle of whiskey and her toolbox, you had so kindly brought for her spread out on the coffee table she sat down on the couch trying to fix the mess that had become of her mechanical arm— which was so much more harder to do by herself, without you there to unscrew the screws she couldn’t reach or to hand her the right tools… or to caress her cheek with those soft hands of yours, fuck, she had missed you more then she’d like to admit.

Sevika had been at it for hours, fumbling with one stubborn screw that had been lodged stuck. It refused to come loose for love nor money and it was driving her up the damn wall that she throws the stupid screwdriver across the room, watching it bounce across the wooden floorboards with a loud clang and a thud.

She stares down at it with a small scowl, scoffing before reaching for the bottle of whiskey.

“Sev?— what’re you doing?” Your soft voice, heavy with sleep ripples through the silence, breaking down the spell of anger that seemed ever present.

“Nothing, go back to bed, I’ll be there in a minute.” She mumbles the reply, ducking her head down to look at the floor beneath her, it was almost ridiculous how fast the guilt hit her. She’d woken you up at god knows what time with her banging around.

You shake your head at her dismissal, padding your way over to her with a small frown— your hands tightening the silk robe you had wrapped around your body. Without a word she moves her legs so you can perch yourself on the edge of the coffee table, sitting in front of her.

“You won’t be able to fix it if you’re drunk.” You tell her, a small smirk ghosting over your lips as you watch her put the bottle of whiskey down on the table with a small huff.

“It’s not the alcohol—” Sevika replies gruffly, her heart skipping a few beats at the feeling of your hand against her knee as you rummage through her toolbox. “It needs a specific part.” Gods, you made her feel like a lovesick fool sometimes but damn if she didn’t absolutely adore the feeling.

With a soft hum, you let your fingertips graze along the metal fixings of her prosthetic arm, the joints were all broken and a couple of cogs were missing— it’d be easier to fix if it was detached and by the look on Sevika’s face she knew this… but it was a pain to do.

“I could-” you go to offer her an alternative, eyes skimming across the mechanical arm as your tired mind runs a mile a minute.

“Just help me take it off,” She concedes with a weary sigh, nodding over to the screwdriver which you’re quick to pick up.

She didn’t like having it off, to feel so vulnerable and defenceless. In a strange way, it scared her. Sure she could probably knock a guy or two out with one hand but it was still daunting to feel so stripped in such a way.

You stand up from the coffee table, situating yourself in between her legs as you begin to gently unscrew the bolts, handing them over to her one after another as she puts them safely into a bag. Then with a soft hiss of air, the arm comes loose, the weight falling from Sevika’s shoulder and down on the sofa beside her.

“We’ll fix it tomorrow… get that specific piece.” You promise her with a tender smile, looking down at her from where you stand with her rough hand resting over the curve of your hips from between the opening of your silken robe— caressing up to your waist slowly.

“Mmhm.” She hums in agreement, leaning forwards to bury her face into your soft tummy with a heavy sigh that borders on a groan as you skim your fingertips along her cheek and through her hair ever so slowly that it has her nuzzling into you like a damn cat.

Gods, you knew just how to dismantle her… you were a dangerous woman— her kryptonite.

“C’mere.” She mutters, pulling you down onto her lap without a single second thought. Her strong arm wraps around your waist, holding you against her as you melt into her body— her fingers brushing along your hip.

“Come to bed Sev— you look like you’re about to pass out.” You whisper, turning your head to get a good look at her with those soft eyes of yours… so tired and sweet.

“I will just let me hold you like this for a minute.” She replies back, bumping her forehead against your own— pressing a kiss to your cheek then burying her face into the crook of your shoulder, a muffled ‘I love you’ spoken into your skin.

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[vinvantae]

Could you write the f1 grid reactions to their girlfriend enjoying privacy and not wanting to be in the spotlight at gps? Like for example choosing to go to the regular audience instead of the garage to watch races etc to avoid excessive cameras? If you don't want to do all could you do either Charles, Lewis, or Lando?

I won’t do all the drivers because I think there’s only so many reactions but I will do the three you’ve requested ��� sorry for the delay I’ve had a lot of stuff on recently!

***

Charles

Charles watched from across the room as you pulled your Ferrari cap over your head, adjusting it so you could slip your sunglasses on and off with ease. The two of you had been together for nearly two years now, but you had still never set foot inside the paddock - and whilst he understood your reasons, the selfish part of him really wanted you there this weekend. He was starting his home race from P1 and he was positive he had a real shot this year.

He cautiously stepped towards you, taking your hips in his hands so he could press a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to join me in the garage, mon ange?” He hummed, resting his cheek against yours as you met his eyes in the mirror.

“Mhmm, I quite like being surrounded by your adoring fans.” You giggled, tilting your head so he could press kisses to your neck. “The roars of Monegasque feel all the more thrilling when you’re a part of it. Their home hero starting on pole? No way I’m missing out on that.”

Charles let you turn in his arms, your arms coming up to loop around his neck - you couldn’t help but smile at the fond look in his eyes as he looked at you. He really wished you were going to be at the barriers, so he could wrap you up in his arms when he finally won, but he knew all the cameras in your face would be too much for you.

“I’ll always respect your decision to enjoy the race from the grandstands, as long as you know if you ever change your mind, there’s a special spot in the back of my garage just for you.” His voice was soft as he nudged his nose against yours. “If they get too rowdy-”

“Charles, I’ll be okay… now, go win for me.”

Lewis

Being a 7 time world champion definitely came with its privileges - but privacy was not one of them. So keeping his relationship close to his chest was not only important to him but to you. You loved him more than words could ever describe, but the idea of walking through all of the press holding his hand was still daunting to you - so you preferred to support him nestled away in the crowds. In your 5 years together, somehow, you’d never been “exposed”, so blending in was easy.

Lewis was by no means ashamed of you, in fact, he was filled with nothing but pride when he spoke of you - but being able to keep his personal life private, out of the grasps of the greedy, was important to him as well. He spent his days with every movement, every word being picked apart by the media and he wanted to be able to protect you from it all.

“You could at least wear my merch, babe.” He laughed softly, as you emerged from the bathroom, donned in another team’s merchandise, holding his hands out for you to take. “How am I gonna do well knowing you’re in the crowd wearing that?”

You scoffed playfully, taking his hands, looking down at him from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. “I am wearing something for you… just for your eyes though.”

He quirked a brow, removing his hands from yours to hook his fingers into your waistband, pulling it away just enough to see his trademark colour against your skin hidden underneath. A groan left his lips and he lent his forehead against your middle.

“So…” you purred. “You gonna race well knowing what your prize is?”

“Fuck yes.”

Lando

Neon yellow was not your colour. When Lando first showed it to you, you weren’t sure it was anyone’s colour, but as you strolled through Silverstone - it seemed that it was everyone’s. You smiled softly to yourself as you adjusted your own hat, sidling up the grandstands to find your seat - nestled in between a group of Lando’s fans, who very quickly pulled you into the fray once they realised you were alone.

You’d ended up getting a seat at Luffield corner, not expecting your boyfriend’s car during the parade to pull up to be interviewed by Natalie. There was no way he’d ever know you were here - you told him you couldn’t make it, but in reality you wanted to enjoy it from the crowds.

The giggles that escaped you as his t-shirt cannon failed dramatically, made your heart swell. He’d come so far in the years you’d known him and to see him so adored was really special. You fished your phone out of your pocket when it buzzed, his name lighting up your screen, just moments before you knew he had to get into the car.

Miss u x

You smiled softly, turning as you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. The girl smiled gently albeit a little awkwardly at you. “Hi, sorry, you’re y/n, Lando’s girlfriend, right?”

“That’s me.” You chuckled.

“How come you’re out here instead of in there?” She asked, her voice laced with curiosity, not judgement.

You turned a little in your chair to face her better. “Wanted to enjoy the race from the grandstands, I’ve always loved the atmosphere and just because I’m dating him I didn’t want to stop.”

She gave you a knowing nod. “That’s absolutely fair. Well, when you see him, can you tell him I said hi?”

“Hey, how about we all send him a good luck selfie? He’s probably not got his phone anymore but he’ll see it after the race.” You beamed.

Everyone crowded around you and you took a photo - their smiles practically lighting up the screen. You knew Lando would love it, so you sent it back.

We’re all rooting for you <3 You’ve got this!x

Lando was a little disappointed not to win the race, especially at home - he’d managed to hang on to the lead just for a little while, but it just wasn’t enough. All he wanted was to wrap himself up in your arms and feel sorry for himself for not being able to hold onto the lead, but you weren’t here. When he finally got a moment of peace, he checked his phone - eyes widening at the selfie.

You were here, nestled amongst the floods of neon - your smile somehow brighter. He tapped on your name to call you, tapping his foot against the floor - biting at the skin around his fingernails.

“Hi Lando.” Your voice sounded like a dream.

“How come you didn’t tell me you were here.” He knew he sounded whiny but he didn’t care, he needed you with him ASAP. “Could’ve watched from the garage… given me a good luck kiss.”

“Well, looks like you didn’t need it. You raced amazingly today, baby, I’m so proud of you… maybe I’ll meet you back at your hotel, show you how proud I am?”

Lando couldn’t help but jut his bottom lip out a little. “Sure I can’t tempt you to come to the garage?”

“I’m sure. Too flashy for me. I love you, see you in a little while.”

“I love you too. Bye babe.” He smiled to himself, hanging up the phone - holding it to his chest.

As much as he’d wished you were in the garage, he loved the part of you that wanted to enjoy races from the grandstands - experience the race how you wanted, not just using your relationship to waltz around the paddock.

Now… he just had to find the quickest way back to the hotel.

[melliemell]

Pairing: Dazai x reader

Contents: NSFW, public masturbation, Christmas choco crawl gone wrong due to horny boyfriend who has no sense of shame, ahh dazai, the man that you are, Approx. 1k. words

Dazai’s gaze lingered on you, the playful tilt of his lips obscured by his warm cup of cocoa. 

You studied him in return, the festive atmosphere of the Christmas market barely of importance. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when you felt the change of mood between you, but the cheerfulness and easy smiles of your date had turned into heated stares and prolonged caresses; a sly hand around your waist, a lingering kiss by your ear now and then. As much physical contact Dazai could sneak around you without crossing the line of innocent teasing.

But you knew better. 

He was becoming predictable, thinking less with his brain in favour of other parts. And he knew that you knew that.

You sipped from your cup, ignoring the hand innocently rested at your hip. “We still have two more stalls to go.” 

“Come now, a deal’s a deal. Were you expecting me to cave under pressure?” Dazai fluttered his lashes, coming dangerously close to spilling his drink as he pulled you closer to him. 

“More like “collapse from chocolate poisoning”, or something,” you said, pulling quickly down the beanie over his eyes before stifling a laugh as Dazai batted your hand away, the hideous garment back in its place over his curls.

Neon green. It was neon. Green.

Oh God.

It was you who suggested doing a choco crawl around the market, the idea too cute to pass on. Only, the weather had its own plans. Forced to deck out in whatever you could find in the closet, you were a sight to behold indeed; Dazai and his barely existent winter clothes combined with an obvious lack of colour coordination, and you trying to salvage the situation and failing miserably at it. Oh well.

Embarrassed? Yes. But drinking hot chocolate with Christmas lights all around you? Worth it.

“I’ll make sure to swoon very prettily for you, don’t worry,” Dazai said.

“Really? You strike me more as a fold-like-a-chair type of person.”

Dazai gasped, eyes offended. “Cruel. A cruel thing to say, and to your lover of all. The light of your life. Unforgivable.”

“Specialty treatment just for you.” You patted him on the cheek.

Dazai pouted. But it didn’t seem to stop him from pressing you against one of the secluded barracks an hour later, his kiss hungry and tasting sweet against your lips. Dazai never had much patience for anything, grabbing at opportunities as they appeared with not the slightest guilt. 

You were no exception; letting him drape himself all over you all evening, stealing chaste kisses wherever he could–only to sneakily build up to this. His hands were cold against your cheeks, but the leg he nestled between your thighs sent enough heat through your body to compensate.

“Couldn’t you wait till we got home?” you breathed against him, pulling at his scarf until it fell loose around his shoulders. He shuddered as your lips found warm skin, teasing a trail of open-mouthed kisses up his neck and jaw. 

“Pshh, we can do seconds there if you’re offering?” He smiled cheekily, eyes hooded in an all too familiar expression. 

You levelled him with a stare. “Dazai.”

“Mmyes?”

“We. Are not. Having sex in the middle of a fucking market.”

“What? Who said that?” Dazai stretched up, looking around you both. “I definitely didn’t say that. Weird.”

You were off to the side, far away to have some privacy, yes. But not sex. You could practically see pedestrians walking about in the distance. Dazai loved being a tease, and the acquired years of practice in dealing with him prepared you for almost anything that spilled from his mouth.

Almost.

Dazai was being dramatic, is all. So long as you pampered him in enough attention he’d be back to a more tolerable state sooner or later. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t pull at his strings from time to time either…

“Insufferable,” you said, pulling all your annoyance in that one word. And just when the corner of Dazai’s lip pulled, a grin at the ready, your hand grabbed at his trousers, freezing his expression in place as you cupped his half-hard cock in your palm. 

“Oh-ohh,” he said, blinking. “That took a turn.”

You moved closer, shielding the view of his torse with your body. You squeezed experimentally, giving yourself a bit of time before you made your decision. Dazai’s hips bucked against you almost involuntarily.

You unzipped his trousers, no hesitation in your movement. Dazai’s forehead fell on your shoulder the moment you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock. You barely gave him time to gather himself as you moved, stroking him fast as he filled quickly in your palm. 

“Don’t move,” you whispered, holding him around the torso. No good in him swooning on you now, pretty or not.

If he answered, you didn’t hear; his lips were already on yours. 

He was all want now, maybe the shock of you actually doing this sending even more pleasure down his cock. There was certainly an argument for it there; you could practically feel him throbbing against your touch.

You smiled, biting at Dazai’s lower lip before pulling back completely. You didn’t give him time to react, zipping him back up snugly in his all-too-tight clothes now. “Well, chop chop.”

And you walked off, leaving a panting Dazai behind you, mouth hanging open as his hand flew to his crotch. 

“What. What–” he scrambled after you, cheeks dusted so prettily by his flush.

“The quicker we get home, the better. Right?” you said, looking straight ahead as you fought to keep a neutral face. “Unless you don’t want my help with that anymore.”

Dazai let out a groan, burying his face in his hands. It was unlikely he’d survive that long, not unless you found a car. But watching him be in torment was part of the fun. 

“And I am the insufferable one,” Dazai murmured under his breath, grabbing you by the hand before he practically hauled you towards the sidewalk, eyes boring into the streets like a hawk before he lunged at the first taxi he found.

Okay, maybe you felt a bit bad. A teeny tiny bit. 

You’d make sure to make up for it real good though.

[bunny-jpeg]

hi my love! love your works. can i have a slice of carrot cake with some tiramisu with a side of a vodka shot for carlos sainz? thanks so much

bakery menu

want to order your own treat? then check out the menu! we're always baking up smiles and accept orders from fandoms other than f1 (like call of duty, bg3, or you can suggest one of your own)! the bakery is for your enjoyment, so please check out the menu! as for this one, i thought it was interesting because i feel like this alluded to oral sex, which i don't get a lot of. so this was fun to write! so thank you for the order and enjoy! <3

carrot cake ("swallow it. all of it.") + tiramisu (“my little slut to ruin.”) + shot of vodka (rough sex) served by carlos sainz jr (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, (rough) oral sex (carlos receiving), dirty talk, degrading language, dom!carlos

when asked the question, tits or ass, carlos would always respond with, "mouth." now mouth wasn't one of the options, but he picked it anyway. he could go without tits and ass if it meant having a pair of pretty lips around his achy cock.

sure pillow-y tits were nice to fuck and it was a sight to see a pretty ass bounce on his cock. but to see his beloved girlfriend on her knees, those pretty eyes gleaming up at him as you took his entire length in your mouth. now, that was better than any tits or ass!

when carlos got your mouth on him, he loved it rough. he loved when his sweet little girlfriend took his cock so pretty. it made something surge in him as he held onto your head and thrust his cock into your mouth.

your pretty lips around the length, sometimes hitting right to the base. your nose in his pubic hair as you drooled all over yourself. he always tried to get a photo of you in that position, but always ended up so lost in the pleasure that he never did.

maybe carlos did have a fetish for your lips. even went as far as to help put on your lipstick for an event with ferrari. your chin in one hand while his other hand worked to get the make up on.

you looked angelic. like a gift from the heavens to him. it made his heart leapt and it lingered on his mind for the rest of the event. at one point he saw you sip a coke zero through a straw and it made him almost bite his first in frustration.

he liked long lasting wear, in dark colours. nothing too unnatural, but in all fairness you could choose how you wanted to look. if you wanted neon pink lipstick, then by all means go at it. but when wrapped around his cock, he liked a good plum colour.

at the event you were wearing a dark red, which he thought you looked beautiful in. even more beautiful when you got home and undressed.

you got on your knees in front of the bed you shared almost every night and kissed at his cock. a few lipstick marks got onto his erection, which made his stomach twist into knots as he held your hair and guided your mouth onto his cock.

“my little slut to ruin.” he said lowly, "my beautiful, beautiful little slut, you knew what you were doing when you chose that colour." he sank his cock into your throat and rocked against you.

you felt like a dream around his cock, as you gazed up at him as you took it almost to the root. you were painfully beautiful, the woman he wanted to be with forever.

you rocked your head against him and felt a bead of sweat down your neck. the room felt hotter as your cheeks heated up. you took him like a champ.

"so beautiful, my beautiful little slut. i love the sight of you on your knees. you are so painfully pretty on your knees." he groaned as he continued to move your head up and down his cock.

you whimpered around his cock and it made his heart flutter.

"i love you so much. i wonder how the others would feel if they saw you like this. on your knees for me, letting me fuck that sweet throat of yours." he groaned as he moved your head faster.

his cock hit the back of your throat and it made your head swim. you were just so painfully adorable. he sang dirty praises as he bulled his cock into your throat.

you whined and whimpers as your nose buried into his pubic hair, you felt the heat in your body. you clawed at his thighs and felt the heart flutter in your chest.

"pretty girl."

you closed your eyes and let him move you to his liking. you took in the sounds of his praise as you rubbed your thighs together.

"swallow it. all of it. you'll be good for me and take it all?" he said, his voice steady but had a bit of gentleness to it, "i know you can, my love." he continued to thrust into your mouth a few more times before he finished down your throat.

he held your head for a few moments, letting your feeling his softening cock in your mouth then pulled out of your mouth and looked down at you. he licked his lips and ran his fingers through your hair.

"beautiful."

you wiped your chin and got up on shaky legs. you were naked in bed with him and you tried not to get your face onto the pillow in fear of getting your make up all over the the pillows. and while carlos could be a 'mean' dom sometimes, that didn't mean that he was a horrible partner.

"you lay on your back, my love. i'll get you some make up wipes." and just as he applied the lipstick onto you, he was just are careful taking it all off of you.

he whispered praises to you as he got all of it off of you. he threw out the wipes then got back into bed with you. he stripped down as well to his underwear and curled up next to you. his arms around you and his lips at your cheek.

when carlos was asked if he was a tits or ass man, he'd respond with 'lips', but not just anyone's lips. your lips. <3

[thalwhore]

Thank you for the lesson mothermara

(pulls out an infographic of a colour wheel) every colour category can be made appealing depending on the context and presentation and due to the way we perceive colour and light, hues that look garish or bad in isolation- where are you going come back

[luveline]

Hiiii sugarplum. I would absolutely adore some stripper reader x Hotch maybe like some of him comforting her or just coming to visit like outside of the case and some fluff 🥰🥰

ty for requesting!! fem

You’re texting on the wall outside of work when a shadow cuts across the streetlight illuminating your lap. Your head flinches up, phone to your chest, but the man standing in front of you isn’t one you’ve ever been scared of. “Fuck, Aaron, you scared me,” you say with a nervous laugh. 

He smiles at you in his gentle, unassuming way. “Sorry. I took care to scuff my shoes as I walked.”

“Oh, you took care,” you say. Your smile is far less gentle than his; your cheeks apple, your words coloured with it. “I was in my own world.” 

“I thought we talked about you coming outside alone.”

“Did we?” you ask, the short wall you’re sitting on biting into your hands and thighs as you tip back to grin at him teasingly. “Gosh, I’m sorry, Mr. Hotchner, I can’t seem to remember any such talk.” 

“Mm.” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t remember that?” 

“Don’t recall, no.”

“So you also won’t remember the conversation we had about flowers.” 

Your first date, your only date, and your first bouquet. He’d given you flowers and read the embarrassment on your face immediately. You aren’t the kind of girl who gets flowers. 

What’s wrong? he’d asked. 

You’d held the flowers to your chest, something in you worried he’d take them away, though you’re almost positive he’s incapable of being cruel like that. Do I look stupid? 

Of course you don’t. 

There hadn’t been much else to say about the flowers, until after the evening had gone well, and he’d asked you for another date. High with the delight of knowing Spencer’s nice, handsome boss doesn’t just think you’re pretty, he likes you, you’d said Sure, if you bring me another lovely bouquet, we can go on as many dates as you like. 

Aaron pulls the bouquet from behind his back. Petals bounce off of his tie, pinks and whites and baby blues against his black blazer and pristine white shirt as he taps his chest. They’re beautiful, and far too many. 

“Are they really for me?” you ask. You’ve never seen such a big bouquet in your life. It’s a wonder they fit behind his back. 

The strangest thing about dating him has been his sudden propensity for moments of shyness. “That depends,” he says, the slightest hint of nerves in his otherwise dulcet tone, “are they nice enough?” 

“They’re the prettiest flowers I’ve ever seen.” You stand up and hold out your hands, pull them back to your chest, and then hold them back out again. You can’t not want them. 

He hands them off to you. 

It must be weird for him to meet you like this. He’s very high up the ladder of his career, and it doesn’t make much sense for him to fall for you. You’re younger, less educated, less prestigiously employed. You hadn’t understood what it was about you that pulled him in, but you can remember how clearly he told you he was interested in you. No shame. Not a hint of reluctance. He’s bringing you flowers outside of the stripclub, ignoring the fact that you’re in sweatpants and a tight corset-type bra, and he hasn’t looked at your body once. 

“I was just texting you,” you say, opening your phone to press send on the text waiting in the hot bar. 

Aaron’s phone immediately pings. 

He reads it quickly. It isn’t a long message. Hi, handsome. Want to pick me up tonight? 

If he’d said yes or no didn’t matter, because you’d just wanted to talk to him, and here he is. 

He finally ducks in. A half side step into your reach, his face angled down, he kisses you chastely on the lips and everything fades away. The neon pink at your feet, the buzzing streetlights and the passing cars, the steady thump of music from three different buildings, it all disappears under his warm hand. He kisses you, and he hugs you to his chest, careful not to crush your flowers. You could glow from the inside out. 

He’s still smiling as he pulls away. “Are you hungry?” he asks softly. 

“So hungry.” 

“We can get anything you want.” 

“Really? What if I want the same as last time?” 

It had been expensive and you’d felt vaguely underdressed. Aaron doesn’t baulk. “Anything you want… You may need to wear my jacket, though. I don’t think your current outfit adheres to their dress code.” 

You push the flowers just under his nose. “Funny.”

[chaotic-orphan]

Intoxicating Fear (XVII)

Unforeseen Side-effect

Part One // Masterpost // Continued from here

~*~*~*~*~*~

Kit sat up with an effort, his entire body tensing as he moved. Aftershocks still singed his nerves as he moved, eliciting sharp hisses of pain.

What the hell was that thing, that red lightning? And why did he only get it around Ambrose?

“I assume that it’s a wild manifestation of your abilities,” Ambrose said from the kitchen. Kit rolled his eyes, about to curse the villain out if a sudden wave of nausea didn’t hit him and stop him in his tracks.

The world was spinning, lethargically slow, and closing his eyes didn’t exactly help matters. What the fuck was that red lightning? Why did it leave him so… weak?

Kit stopped beside the couch, pressing his back against it while he caught his breath and stifled the whine that threatened to spill from the back of his throat.

“You are as pale as a ghost,” Ambrose told Kit with a smirk. “Except for those eyes of course. And your veins.”

Kit’s eyes widened. His veins? What was Ambrose talking about now? Kit brought his hands in front of his eyes, any colour left in him draining as he saw the same angry, neon red colour had permeated all of his veins. Kit rolled up his sleeves, and there they were. Then the cuffs of his jeans, and the veins were there too.

“You’re like a walking glow-stick.”

“For fuck’s sake, just shut up.” Kit said with a groan, gfalling to his hands and knees and pushing himself to get up. He froze, hitting an invisible wall and plopped back down to his arse again. Red eyes met Ambrose’s black ones. “Can you let me stand up?”

I thought you told me to shut up, Ambrose’s voice sounded in Kit’s mind, the same stupid smirk on his same stupid face.

Kit banged his head against the couch with a groan. “You’re such a dickhead! You can give commands through thoughts! Why are you even here?! Why do you love to torture me?” Kit demanded, his voice turning hysterical. “Is this all part of Supervillain’s plan? To drive me mad too?”

The humour vanished from Ambrose’s face in the blink of an eye. “Do I look like I work well with others, Mallory?”

Kit blinked, his eyebrows pinching together, forming a furrow between. “What?”

Ambrose walked forward, closing the distance between them, stopping in front of Kit’s outstretched legs. “Do I look like I take orders from people?”

“No?”

“Then why,” Ambrose began, his voice darkening. “Would you think that I would throw my lot in with Supervillain of all people?”

Kit bent his knee and pushed himself into a straighter sitting position. He threw his hands up in a helpless gesture. “Then what the fuck were you doing on the docks that night?”

Ambrose’s features hardened. “The night I met you?”

“No, the other night on the docks.” Kit deadpanned.

“That wasn’t my fault,” Ambrose said with a shrug. “You can blame that preppy little water hero, what was her name again?”

“Tides.”

“That’s it,” Ambrose said with a click of his fingers. “Tides. The perfect foil to your electricity, Kit. Maybe I should bring her over someti—”

“If you touch her, I’ll fucking kill you.” Ambrose raised his brows, slightly taken aback. Maybe it was the vibrant crackle in his eyes or the echo in his voice, but something about him at that moment didn’t feel like Kit. It felt like something else. Something… wild.

“Promises, promises,” Ambrose said with a wave. “You can stand, Mallory. Clearly, we need to have a long overdue conversation.”

Ambrose walked back to the kitchenette, and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet preparing their coffee and tea. Kit slowly, achingly slow, got to his feet, his entire body zapped of energy. He dragged himself to his table and settled heavy into the chair, ignoring how breathless he was from such a light movement.

Ambrose joined him a few minutes later, neither of them speaking to each other. Ambrose set the coffee in front of Kit, and Kit said: “thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Ambrose told him lightly. Ambrose stood again and walked towards Kit, reaching out.

Kit flinched back, throwing his hands up, red eyes pleading. “No, Ambrose no more, please.”

“Relax, Mallory. I’m just undoing the tie.” Ambrose told him. He waited until Kit relaxed, his hands lowering, a wary glint in his eyes as Ambrose started forward again. He quickly undid the knot in the tie, Kit refusing to look at him, instead focusing on the wall behind him. He could smell Ambrose’s expensive cologne from the space between them. It smelled nice, but it was deathly silent.

It was awkward, to say the least.

Ambrose finished with a flourish, gently pulling the fabric from Kit’s throat, sending shivers down his spine. Ambrose folded the tie neatly as he sat down again opposite Kit. When his black eyes flicked up to Kit’s he let out a low whistle, his eyes going to the red bruise around Kit’s throat. It would fade in an hour or two.

“What?” Kit snapped.

A ghost of a smirk flashed over Ambrose’s lips as he picked up his steaming mug. “Let’s just say you have a necktie of your own, now.”

Kit rolled his eyes. “Oh fuck right off, Rosey.” Kit took his own mug and took a sip of the steaming black coffee. His arm spasmed as the liquid met his tongue and spilled coffee all over his arm. Kit hissed, cursing as he wiped the liquid off, humming the pain away.

Ambrose’s dark eyes narrowed over his cup. “Aftershock?”

Kit shook his head. “I don’t know what this is,” he said weakly.

“Hmm.” Ambrose set his mug down on the table, clasping his hands on the table in front of him. “In any case, we need to discuss your theory on Supervillain.”

“You said you’re not working for him.”

Ambrose didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely not, but I am interested to hear your theory.”

“That night on the docks,” Kit repeated.

“I didn’t start a fight with Tides on the dock, Kit. She started a fight with me. I was simply defending myself.”

“And I’m sure you forced her to radio for help, right?”

Ambrose blinked. “No.”

Kit scoffed. “Sure you didn’t.”

“No,” Ambrose said again, straightening his spine. “I didn’t. If I did, I would tell you, Mallory. I’m an honest man.”

“She radioed Superhero and I while we were fighting a fire Villain that was threatening to burn down the residential area in seventh.”

“I never told her to do anything like that, Mallory. I wanted a quiet night. Tides somehow recognised me, and then I had my fun with her.” A shadow of a smirk passed over Ambrose’s face. “Though she wasn’t half as fun as you were.”

Kit frowned. “But that night there was— it felt like there were a series of co-ordinated attacks across the city.”

“Except I didn’t attack your water hero. How many times must I repeat myself?”

“Sorry if you’re a little hard for me to trust right now, Rosey!” Kit growled, slamming his hand on the table. The red in his veins pulsed and burned brighter. Even the blood vessels inside his mouth were emitting light, as if he had just swallowed the sun. “All you’ve done since I’ve met you is torture me, use my own powers against me, broke into my apartment—”

“Kit—” Ambrose said, but sparks flew from Kit’s body as he continued, getting angrier and angrier. Burning hotter and hotter, the light getting brighter and brighter.

“Laughed at me while you beat me, terrorised my every waking moment, kidnapped me and tied me up so you could hurt me some more, or shall I go on?!” His voice crackling at the end like static over an old radio that had lost signal.

“Kit, you need to calm down.” Ambrose said softly, eyes weary at the sparks and heat that was coming off the hero in front of him.

“Wow, look at you, Rosey. How far we’ve come. You’re scared of me for once,” Kit said, planting his hands on the table and rising to his feet. “Good.”

Kit raised his hand, pointing his index finger at Ambrose and raising his thumb, curling his hand into a finger gun. Then he lowered his thumb with a soft: “pew.”

Ambrose went hurtling back against the wall to Kit’s room, cracking the plaster on impact. Ambrose groaned as he fell to the ground, forcing his eyes to focus, but his brain was fried. Everything was coming too slowly for him to react.

Kit stepped around the table, following the telepath. Each step sent jolts of energy through his limbs but Kit couldn’t help it. He kind of liked it. This raw power coursing through him. It made him feel in control.

He ignored the voice in the back of his head telling him to stop. That this was wrong, that this wasn’t him. Oh this was Kit alright. This was all of Kit’s bottled up emotions, finally breaking free and showing Ambrose who really had the power in their relationship.

Kit stopped in front of Ambrose, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him to his feet. He shoved him against the wall, not shocking him, not yet. He just wanted to savour the look of fear in the villain’s face for once. The villain’s disheveled state, where strands of his perfect hair fell over his face, out of his control.

“Mallory, this isn’t you,” Ambrose told him.

Kit tilted his head. “Aww, is that really all you can think of in your defence, Rosey? It’s hard to think with electricity shocking your nervous system, isn’t it?”

“Kit—”

“Kit’s not home right now,” Kit cut in, chuckling darkly. The sound echoing in static across the apartment. “Or, well, he is. He’s me, I’m him. Let’s just say, his compassionate, heroic side isn’t steering the ship at the moment.”

Ambrose clenched his jaw. “Then which part am I speaking to?”

“The one that you created, Rosey.” Kit told him with a threatening purr. His smile widened as Ambrose paled. “The beaten, pathetic, powerless one that gathered every time you told us — not to use our powers. Every time Kit reached for them and couldn’t find them, guess what happened? I was born. A well of kinetic and potential energy, bubbling under the surface, safe in Kit’s subconscious.” Kit laughed and Ambrose flinched. “I liked you, Rosey. You just kept building, and building, and building me up until I spilled over. But y’know what? I like being in the driver seat. It’s fun being conscious.”

Ambrose didn’t know what to do as he stared at the monster in front of him. The monster that he created? Nobody had ever had side effects like this before, well, none that he of. Certainly not enough to make another personality emerge in the subconscious, but then again…

Ambrose set his mouth into a thin line. Kit was top of his class for a reason. Mentor chose him for a reason, and if Kit wasn’t lethal enough with just his skills his ability — electricity — was pure energy, pure force. It would take a lot for Kit to be able to control it, let alone suppress it. Ambrose vaguely recalled studying electricity in school, and all the different types of it.

No, that’s not what he should focus on.

His mind quickly poured over Kit’s words again until he found it, the important information. “Kit’s not home right now. Or well, he is. He’s me, I’m him. Let’s just say, his compassionate, heroic side isn’t steering the ship at the moment.”

Perfect. That meant all Ambrose had to do was reach in and pull the real Kit out to the forefront of his mind. Put him back in control.

Ambrose reached into Kit’s mind, quickly searching the strange cavern until he saw him. Not Kit, but a pulsing ball of blue electricity buried deep in the darkness.

“Mallory!” Ambrose called, his voice echoing in Kit’s mind. “Mallory wake—”

Ambrose screamed as he was pulled out of Kit’s head. It felt as if his body was burning under a stream of molten lava, singeing every nerve and fibre of his being. Every muscle seized and contracted, robbing every thought from his brain before eventually it stopped and he fell forward. His head fell onto Kit’s shoulder, his body riding out the aftershocks with a cry.

“Naughty, naughty Rosey. It’s rude to ask for someone else to join us when the fun’s only beginning! You get to play with Kit all the time, I never get to play with you.”

“Kit—” Ambrose said with a breath, his voice coming out weaker than he had ever heard it.

“Don’t worry. I know how much volts it takes to kill a human, and I only used a fraction of that on you, Rosey. See? We’re still friends! I would be nothing without you.” Kit grabbed Ambrose’s head and straightened him back against the wall. “So, how about we make this party really fun and use half the amount it takes to kill—“”

Kit shut up suddenly, stepping back. Ambrose slid heavy down the wall, mind racing. He had the right mind to glance up at Kit to see a resolute expression grace his lips.

“Ambrose, put me to sleep. Now! Fucking—” Kit dropped to his knees, screaming as red and blue sparks erupted around him. No, not around him. From him. Ambrose looked away, throwing his elbow up to shield his eyes. “AGGGGHHH! NOW! DON’T—”

Ambrose took a sharp breath and slammed his hand out. He reached into Kit’s mind and pulled the plug. Kit’s muscles went rigid, his arms dropping to his sides before he fell to the ground. Ambrose let out a gasp, falling forward to his hands and knees.

Ambrose sucked in a breath, his muscles trembling to keep him up. Fuck.

He pushed himself back onto his arse, eyes locked on the unconscious hero in front of him. His body still pulsed with energy, but at least he was out cold. Ambrose pressed a hand against his chest, still feeling the burn from Kit’s hand on his chest.

He glanced down, brows pinching together when he saw the char mark in the shape of a handprint on his shirt. Ambrose scoffed. “You little shit,” he said to Kit. “This shirt costs more than your apartment.”

Ambrose got to his feet with a groan. It has been a long time since somebody hurt him like that. Well, not counting all the times when Kit had surprised him. He let out a breath, that sounded eerily similar to a laugh, when he remembered Kit knocking him out and waking up tied up and gagged. Oh, those were the days.

He walked over to Kit’s coatrack by the door and rooted around in his overcoat pockets until his fingers touched the metal rings. He pulled them out and released them with a dull thunk.

He personally preferred not having to use Kit’s power dampeners. They weren’t exactly a tool that Ambrose needed. Besides, it was much more fun to force Kit to inhibit his own ability, but Ambrose had told him not to use his powers. He had done that, and somehow, the other Kit somehow managed to access his electricity to overpower Ambrose.

Ambrose walked over to the Hero, staring down at him with something unreadable crossing his expression. This was the kid that Mentor took under his wing, huh? He could see why Mentor would choose him, of all the heroes in the world, never mind the city, he’s the Hero Ambrose chose too, coincidentally.

Entirely coincidental.

It was strange.

There was something about Kit, something about him that drew people in like moths to a flame, but looking down at him now, Ambrose took in how young Mallory looked.

He was everything Ambrose wasn’t; where Ambrose was pale, Kit had a honeyed tan to his skin, and where Ambrose was dark haired, Kit’s hair was light brown. Not to mention the differences between Kit’s ridiculous haircut and Ambrose’s. Honestly, would it kill him to run a comb through his hair every once in a while?

Then again Mentor always had a soft spot for broken things, and who could ever compete with some scrappy orphan?

Ambrose sighed as he crouched in front of Kit, reaching forward to grab the boy’s wrists. A jolt of electricity passed through Ambrose’s arm and he cursed, yanking his hand back and shaking it.

“Even unconscious you’re still a pain in the ass,” Ambrose muttered, carefully reaching forward again and snapping the cuff around Kit’s wrist without touching him. The brightness in his veins dimmed and went out completely after Ambrose snapped the cuff on other his wrist.

He touched Kit’s hand again, testing the waters, and there was no shock or jolt that ran through him. Good. Ambrose got to his feet, satisfied that Kit wasn’t a live wire anymore and walked towards Kit’s bedroom. He opened the wardrobe and grabbed one of Kit’s sweaters, then paused, stretching the fabric.

God. The boy didn’t look this skinny. Ambrose had broad shoulders, something he was proud of, but at the moment he wished he was the same build as the young hero. He put the sweater back in and pulled out a larger hoodie. It was ugly but it’d do.

All of his insulators were back at his house, which meant he’d have to take Kit back too. He needed answers. He needed to understand why Mentor chose Kit, why he took him, why he raised him to follow in his footsteps.

He needed to know why Kit thought Ambrose was working with Supervillain. Too many unanswered questions for his liking, too many variables, and all of them hinged on the volatile hero in front of him. Well, Ambrose never got to where he was today without a little hard work.

At least, he noted, it was dark outside, so he could throw the unconscious hero into the backseat without too many questions.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

Orphanage roll-call (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @beatenbruisedandbloody @404lunar1216 @whumpyworld @nameless-beanie e @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations @acer-gaysimpstuff @m3rakii @xxgalgurlxx @princess-bubble-blossom @blood-enthusiast @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @andtheysaidspeaknoww @dutifullykrispyland @mononeigbour @tippytappytyping @stefaniesblogs @shinokoro @bedtimescenarios @whatwhump

[yourjughead]

Boyfriend Part 2

Sweet Pea X Reader

-----------------------------------------

Sweet Pea pov

I made the short walk, well in my rage, the short run to Jugheads trailer. Lights out no body's home. Hm. Where would the usual spot for him and yn be, the thought making me feel sick. Whyte Wyrm? Nah Jughead was rarely there. If I was a horrible human being where would I go hmmmmm. Ah that diner on the Northside!

3rd Person 

You crossed the threshold of the Whyte Wyrm as quickly as you could, still processing what just happened to you. Arriving at the bar top, Toni sailed over to you smiling. 

"Hey YN, How'd the rekindling of the romance go?"

"It didn't, pass me one of the spare burners would ya". Toni reached into a large ceramic jar on one of the top shelves of the bar, retrieved a phone with a sim taped to back and tossed it to you. You gave a small smile in thanks and began to set it up. 

"Am I allowed to ask what happened or...."

"Ugh Toni what a mess, he thinks I'm dating Jughead" 

"Well aren't you?" 

"Yeah aren't you?" The sound of your father's voice joinging the conversation startled the two of you. Toni took a rag from the bar top and quickly exited the conversation to grab your father a replacement drink.

"Yeah Dad, of course" you tried to give a smile, barely convincing him. 

"Right well the two of you together is the Serpent dream. Me and FP are delighted, you settled with one person who's right for you and Jones kept away from that busybody blonde girl" your father gave you a wink before taking his drink from Toni.

"Speaking of which, I gotta go meet him" you nodded to the both as your new phone lit up to life. 

~ Simultaneously across town Sweet Pea POV

I raced across the old bridge on my motorbike, not fully knowing where I was going but closely following the trail of picket fences. What a sad existence this truly is. I finally came across the neon sign of Pop's Dinner through the torrential rain. 

From outside I could see Jughead and the outline of the back of her, seeminly wearing a hat. He looked so happy. Fuck him. I could see the two shake with laughter. I really messed up. I mean sure it hurts but we were never really exclusive and besides we could never be public like this. She deserves someone she can publicly love. I should just disappear. 

I went to push off again but then stopped as watch Jones lean across the table to kiss her. This is really the end. Her hat fell to the floor as he moved from her. Then it caught my eye. A long slicked back almost glowing blonde ponytail. That's not YN. I couldn't help but smile so wide. Thank God it's not YN! Wait.....thats not YN. Holy shit that's not YN! He's cheating on YN! 

3rd person 

Sweet Pea leapt from the bike so fast it nearly came crashing to the soaked gravel. Launching himself through the doors of the almost deserted diner has the few eyes that were there lock onto him. Including Jugheads. 

Jughead leapt from his chair, immediately putting his hands up in truce but it was too late. Sweet Pea had moved quickly across the diner to catch Jughead by the collar and push him into the back wall, all while leaving the blonde screaming. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you Jones?! You're gonna chest on YN?! I swear I'm gonna kill you?!" Sweet Pea barked as Jughead was losing colour in his face, the blonde girl trying as she best she could to seperate the two, failing greatly.

"You-dont-under-stand" Jughead choked out. Pop's ran for the phone to call the police as Sweet Pea glared deep within Jugheads eyes, overcome with grief and anger. 

From outside you could see what was happening, bolting in off your own bike and straight down to the bottom of the diner. 

"Sweet Pea stop!" You screamed, managing to wiggle between the two. Sweet Peas grip completly released from Jughead, sending him to the ground, Betty quickly tending to him.

"YN he's cheating on you with her!" 

"YN I thought you were gonna tell him?" Betty looked up at you both with pleading eyes. 

"Tell me what?" Confusion painted Sweet Peas face. "Tell me what?!" He tried again, banging his hand off the wall he just had Jughead against. 

"Me and Jughead -" you were cut off by the sound of sirens filling the car park. Both you and Sweet Pea gave panicked glances to one another, neither could afford another trip to the station.

You grabbed Sweet Peas hand, pulling him through to the girls bathroom. You went to grab anything to break through the window but turned to the crash of the glass from Sweet Peas fist. He groaned as his hand began to instantly swell with blood. You couldn't help but roll your eyes before carefully passing through the window, Sweet Pea trying his best to follow you without adding to the collection of cuts. 

You ran through the drenched woods behind the diner, down the banks and beneath the trees before arriving at the bridge between the two worlds. 

"They have the bikes, they'll go straight to the trailer park" Sweet Pea breathed out from beneath the shelter of the bridge. 

"I don't have plates on mine" you glanced out checking if anyone followed. 

"- and when they search yours it'll register to Greendale" Sweet Pea couldn't help but laugh at that, the Serpents think of it all. 

"Show me your hand" you took his bleeding extremity from his side to examine it under the above street lights. Little shards of glass shone out as you gently removed the larger pieces.

"That's all I can do without the kit, we'll sort it when we're home" he nodded at you thankfully before sliding down the wall of the bridge to the dirt, you following suit. 

"I hope FP doesn't find out about this, he's not gonna take it well that you went for his son"

"I don't care, he had it coming"

"Sweet Pea -" 

"He can't take you from me and then cheat on you YN" he cut across you, staring at the stream of water parallel to your feet. 

"Sweets I tried to tell you tonight, I tried to tell you before battle Royale broke out" 

"I'm sorry I flew off the handle....tell me what? You knew he was cheating on you?"

"We'd have to be actually dating for him to cheat on me" you looked worriedly over at the increasingly confused face of your partner in crime. 

"Jughead and I are just faking, he wants to keep dating the Betty girl and I want to keep being with you, it's just to keep our parents off of our backs" 

"No that's not true" Sweet Pea stood and began pacing. 

"I told you he has a gift for making up stories, this is one of them. Our dads were getting more and more on us about why we weren't together, this way it would stop them from asking questions. I wanted to tell you sooner but Jughead said we needed you to believe it first, to help Dad believe it" you stood to look at him.

"No no no no this isn't happening because that would mean I over reacted for nothing" 

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news but you over reacted, I'm sorry I lied" he stopped pacing at these words. The rain continued to almost bubble off of the rocks surrounding you both. 

"I'm sorry I got so angry and that I smashed your phone" 

"I'm sorry you ended up pinning Jughead to a wall" 

"Yeah I'm not sorry about that" you hit him playfullly into the chest at his jesting. Silence wrapped around the bridge again, the rain slowly easing. You put out your arms in truce and Sweet Pea happy wrapped his around your waist, holding you into his chest. 

"Sweets, Jughead and I have to keep pretending for awhile, just until it's believable that our break up would have no turning back" 

"Do you have to call him boyfriend though?" you gave a small smile at Sweet Peas evident insecurity. 

"Yeah but it's only pretend, you're the one I want to be with. Let's start walking home, I'm sure those cops are half way to Greendale by now" Sweet Pea gave a small nodd to your voice before taking your hand and pulling you up the bank and to the bridge. You dropped it then. 

"I can't risk being seen with you like that, I'm sorry" 

"It's okay YN, you can make it up to me at home" He winked and you were happy to see the playfulness return to him .

"By the way you owe me a new phone" 

"Have your boyfriend pay for one"

[gtgbabie0]

Idk why this concept makes my heart so warm but I’d love to see something where the reader asks Leon to do her makeup for fun and he’s clueless! Like a lil date night activity!

{Leon tries to do your makeup}

Thank you for the request my lovely!! Hope you enjoy!! 💕

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆

“What’s this one again?” Leon asks, fiddling with the eyeshadow palette, shutting it and closing it over and over again as the magnetic seal clicks with the action.

You’re shocked at how willing he was to say yes to the idea of him giving you a makeover.

“That’s eye shadow,” you tell him, before going over the products one by one as he nods with an enthusiastic smile, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited even if he was utterly clueless about what to do.

You take a seat on your desk chair watching as he takes the foundation, “This one first?” He asks a little unsure of what he’s actually doing, and you giggle as his brows knit together with confusion.

“It’s all you baby, whatever you think goes first” You look up at him with a smile.

“Alright” he smiles, and you watch, feeling a little nervous, as he holds the bottle to your face, the nuzzle pressed against your cheek as he squirts the product on your face, and you gasp at the sudden coldness, giggling as he mumbles a small ‘fuck’

He takes one of the many brushes dabbing it across your face to smooth out the foundation that sits against your skin, he stands back admiring your face with a proud smirk before turning back to the dresser and picking up the eyeshadow pallet he was playing with earlier, and you cringe at the bright neon colours, out of all the pallets he just had to pick that one.

“Don’t be so nervous you’re gonna look so sexy” he chuckles, as he takes one of the smaller brushes dusting it with the bright pink, and your eyes flutter close as he applies the eyeshadow so gently to your eyelids, you barely even feel it, his hand occasionally brushes against your cheek as he continues to use the bright colour.

“I’m not hurting you right?” He asks so softly, and you can feel his breath fanning against your skin.

“No baby you’re alright” you whisper back, eyes still closed as he makes a joke about switching job professions, ‘government agent turned beautician’ and you can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of you.

There’s a comfortable silence that settles between you both, and the only thing you can hear is the soft music that plays from your speaker.

Your eyes open as Leon cups your jaw, “I’m not doing a very good job” he chuckles, admiring your face and he can’t believe you’re still so beautiful even if he's doing a terrible job, he presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth before going back to dresser picking up eyeliner with a confusing look.

He removes the cap, his eyebrows rising with shock, “What is this?” He asks, looking back over at you.

“Eyeliner” you smile, and it only confuses him more.

He study’s the product trying to make a guess on how you use it, “It goes on your eyes?- How do I?” he trails off manoeuvring his hand to try and figure out how to apply it, he stares at the brush tip with a very baffled expression.

You explain it to him, giggling at his horrified look he leans into you with hesitation and it makes you a little nervous, “Just be careful, don’t take my eye out” you tell him and he nods with a nervous chuckle and it definitely doesn’t make you confident.

His hand leans against your cheek, as he ever so gently drags the brush tip along your eyelid and he winces at how messy the line is, “Don’t open your eyes” he whispers as he does the same to your other eye, and it’s considerably worse than the other.

He pulls back laughing at how wobbly the line is, and it definitely doesn’t look the same when you do it, “Am I still pretty?” You smile looking up at him.

“You’re always pretty, the prettiest girl in the world,” he tells with a loving tone, handing you the mirror with a teasing ‘Ta-da’ and he chuckles at the boisterous laugh that erupts from you.

“Woah baby, it's a good attempt” you giggle, studying the awful job he’s done.

Leon looks down at you, how your eyes crinkle with joy and a loving feeling blooms in between his rib cage and it makes his heart flutter with adoration, the sweet sound of your laughter could brighten his day without fail always.

He picks up the makeup wipes taking one out, “Come here pretty angel” he says, wiping away the makeup gently, he knows how to do this part as he thinks back to the times when you were too drunk to do it yourself, and the cool sensation washes you with relief.

He wipes the makeup until your face is completely clean, and his big hands cup either side of your face making you look up at him, “My beautiful girl” he smiles leaning down the press a kiss to your lips.

You smile against him suddenly feeling awfully bashful, “Are you, hungry baby?” he asks, and you watch as he cleans up the space.

“Mhm, you wanna make pizza?” You ask, and he nods putting away the makeup products back to their rightful place before you both make your way to the kitchen.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[gyllenhaalstories]

UN PARI À PARIS — SUGAR DADDY!JAKE 💗

summary: the title translates to a bet in paris. because jake’s doing a bet and you’re in paris... i’m so smart, oui oui.

warnings: established sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, curse words, smut (daddy kink, mild degradation, pussy spanking, finger sucking, public sex, penetration, creampie). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 3600

photos credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i’m coming out of my cage and i’ve (not) been doing just fine (and neither does this fic because it’s a mess)... but come on barbie!jake, let’s go party! 💗 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

Jake grabbed the small water bottle from your hand and drank a sip. “I just got an idea.”

You slowly turned your head to the right and studied his face. Not even the wind caused by the fan you waved before your face could hide the mischief that was written all over his features. “Oh no.”

“Oh oui.” He smiled from ear to ear, wrinkles spreading at the corner of his eyes that were partially shielded by the thick frames of his sunglasses. He placed the bottle on the chair, in the spot between his open legs. “We’ll make a bet.”

You slid your sunglasses down on your nose, looking over them. He did the same, causing you to smile. “Go on.”

“Remember how you didn’t want to be here today?”

“I wanted to be here,” you corrected him, hoping he knew that you enjoyed the opportunity to attend such a big sports event, “I didn’t want to sit in the sun for hours.”

“That’s exactly what I said: you didn’t want to be here.” You rolled your eyes. “So, I thought we could bet on how we’ll spend the rest of the evening once the game is over.”

You quickly glanced behind Jake’s shoulders, his friends were chatting in French. Something about the colour rose, you assumed they were discussing how Jake’s Barbie pink shirt clashed with pretty much everything in the court.

“If Djokovic wins,” Jake spoke, catching all of your attention again. “We go straight back to the hotel...” You mirrored Jake’s smirk as he paused, both of you knew what he intended with that silence. “But if the Norwegian player wins, we’re going out for dinner” he mouthed the words ‘with them’, his thumb in front of him and pointing back at the couple without raising suspicions.

“That doesn’t make sense.” You frowned. “That’s not even a bet.”

Visibly disappointed, Jake asked you why.

“We both know Novak’s gonna win. Everybody knows that.”

“I didn’t know you were a tennis connoisseur. That’s hot.” He leaned forward to capture you lips in a kiss.

You kissed him back. Then, you pondered at his bet for a minute, honouring the reflection time it took him to come up with such a plan. “My bet is on Djokovic.” You answered with a firm nod, stretching your hand out to shake his.

Jake enthusiastically shook your hand. “Mine too.”

You rolled your eyes again. You set down the fan to cross your fingers, some extra superstition was more than welcome if it could avoid an extra late dinner in a crowded restaurant where people would argue about the winner of the French Open.

Jake nudged your sides with his elbow, glowing in all the pinkness of his shirt. “We look good together.” He leaned his arm on your thighs, resting a possessive hand on your knee which brought you to scoot closer towards him.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You sure did look good together. You reached to his neck and fixed the pendent of his silver chains, placing it in the middle where all of your hickeys and love marks had sadly faded away.

“That  guy better fucking wins or else.” He flexed his neck, making it crack a little bit to release some of the growing tension. Needless to say, he would have a hard time turning his head left and right to follow that stupid neon green ball around. He would rather have his eyes glued on you the entire time and get out of the court before the second set.

*~*~*

The tension. It was unbearable.

Each ace, each quick sneaky hit, each grunt from the tennis players made you squirm on your uncomfortable chair and it made you wish this would all come to an end quicker. Just give the man his obnoxiously giant trophy so Jake and you could get ahead of the crowd. However, you still tried to enjoy the game, not that you paid much attention to it.

Jake and you  were playing your own game of back and forth, of testing the limits of  what would tip you over the edge. You stroked his arm, brushing your finger tips over his skin until you left a trail of goosebumps despite the heat outside. Jake’s hand would rub up and down your thigh, always reaching dangerously high. You had to remind yourself to adjust your skirt constantly. He would squeeze your knee, your leg, your thigh — basically whatever he could touch and not be called out for public  indecency. He let you press yourself against him, or wrap an arm around him so that you were impossibly closer and just toying with his chains to stop yourself from kissing his neck.

You were quite proud when he popped open a button from his shirt. Whether it was from the heat of the weather or the heat from his body and his desire to take you right here and there barely mattered. You were gladly surprised how he lost composure before you, so much so that he had to pull out his phone multiple times to send a short warning through text messages or to remind you that he wanted you just as bad as you wanted him.

He hid it by pretending to take a photo, but there was nothing in his camera roll that would support his alibi. Unless pictures from the previous night where he fucked you with a view of the Eiffel tower counted. You were not so sure how a blurry photo of his cum over your breasts with the twinkling monument in the background would convince anyone that you were two civilized tennis enthusiasts.

“Let’s get out of here.” You insisted as soon as the game was over and people cheered for the winner.

Jake repeated it, following you out of the section of seats. His hands were on your hips and his body pressed against yours. It looked as though he was scared to lose you amongst the sea of people — even though your VIP tickets offered you a sneaky way out. It also looked as though he was using the little friction caused by your bodies being squeezed together when someone would cut you off in the line to get some relief.

You said it again, you needed to get out of here and quick. You were not having any of the small talk from Jake’s restaurateur friends or from anyone, for that matter, who just bonded after witnessing tennis  history. You wanted out. Fast.

By some strand of luck, you avoided traffic and took a car back to your hotel. You thanked the  chauffeur, rushing out of the car where you had been kissing and rubbing  obscenely on each other. Jake paid him generously, causing the driver to shout “Monsieur, monsieur!” as he tried to give some of the money back to your man. Only, you were already on your way towards the entrance of the hotel lobby.

You were greeted by the one of the hotel managers who spoke with a thick French accent. He talked and talked and talked, something about how the building seemed empty with most of the residents having attended the French Open. You answered with nods and smiles until you excused yourself and took the lead, dragging Jake by the arm where his silver watch and bracelet made clicking noises  from all the movements.

“You’re so fucking needy for me.” Jake told you, not caring enough to lower his voice.

For a seemingly empty hotel, the elevators in front of you were occupied and smashing the buttons did not make them climb up and down faster. You noticed how Jake was fidgeting, eyes darting everywhere, as you sighed with frustration.

“Got an idea.” Jake spoke, his face buried in the crook of your neck where he busied himself by leaving as many kisses as he could in such a small amount of time — which was both a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing to feel your skin on his lips, something he wanted to do since you arrived to the world renown court.But it was a curse because it felt like he was stealing time away from what the two of you desperately wanted.

“Is it better than your bet?”

He laughed against your skin, tasting the sweat on his lips as his tongue caressed the spots he kissed hungrily. “Not at all.”

“I already love it.”

“You’re fucking perfect.” Jake smiled widely. He spotted the door that led to the stairwell and pushed you in that direction.

There were giggles that echoed in the empty room as the two of you tried to  walk up a few levels of stairs. You stopped to catch your breath and,  immediately, you had hands exploring your body.

Jake was pulling and gripping on the fabric of your clothes until he had your body pressed against his and your mouths connected by a deep kiss. One second, he had your face in his hands as his tongue danced around yours. The next second, his hands were groping your ass. He pinched your cheeks harshly, giving each one a loud slap that, too, echoed in the stairwell.

“We gotta wait until we’re in the suite, come on.” You lolled your head back and let him nibble on the skin of your neck  and cover it with open mouthed kisses. He grunted in response. “Jake —”

“Daddy.” He corrected, earning you an even harder spank on your ass to remind you what head space to be in.

“But Daddy!” You tried to stop him, nudging at him so he would recognize the risks of you getting caught.

“I  thought,” he spun you on your feet so that you were looking out the stairwell window, the busy City of Lights now before your eyes. “You said that you loved my idea, hmm?” His left hand crept up your body and lingered around your neck before he moved it up, his thumb dragged your bottom lip down. “Did you change your mind?”

“No, I —” You were interrupted again by two fingers entering your mouth.

“You what?” His right hand pressed on your tummy so that your ass would push against the bulge of his navy blue pants. “Go on.”

“I...” You struggled to speak with his fingers filling your mouth, so you mumbled  your way into trying to say that you “don’t wanna get caught.”

He laughed at how pathetic you sounded and did not let you say another word. Instead he pumped his index and middle fingers in and out, fucking your mouth with a smirk on his lips. “Shh, it’s not good to lie.”

You felt him rub against your body, his bulge pressing between your ass cheeks and making the fabric of your skirt ride up.

“I  know you love being watched.” Jake’s hand lowered and reached under your skirt. He leaned his chin on your shoulder and whispered to your ear. “I bet that if someone walked in, you would beg me to keep going.”

You nodded, spit drooling down his fingers and your chin as he kept fucking your mouth.

“That’s right. Such a good slut, you wanna give everyone a good show.” You opened your legs and leaned forward, giving Jake access to your core that he roughly rubbed over your soaked panties. With a quick motion, he pushed your panties to the side and pressed his hand against your slick covered pussy.

You exhaled audibly when his warm hand touched your even warmer core, suddenly all of the hours that flew by as you waited for this moment became worth it. Your hips instinctively  humped his hand, soaking him up.

“Fuck yeah, suck my fingers like they’re my cock.” He grunted when you lost yourself in the moment, your eyes shut and your cheeks hollowed around his digits.

You sucked on his fingers, your head bopped back and forth to meet his thrusts and your tongue twirled around his digits. You wished it was his cock, you wished you could taste his precum on your tongue.

He slapped your pussy, you flinched and gagged around his fingers. The sound bounced back against the walls of the stairwell. “That’s my good girl.” He spanked it again. The slaps were quick, he was not even trying to make them hurt. He was just riling you up for his own viewing pleasure of watching you fall apart under his hands.

Tears leaked from your closed eyes when Jake finally pulled his fingers out of your mouth. He smeared some more of your spit over your chin as you smiled.

He moaned as you enjoyed it. He, too, enjoyed making you look so messy and pretty for him. All the expensive clothes and jewellery he gifted you could never make you look as beautiful as you did just now, and just like the countless other times he had you crying of pleasure and begging for more.

You were begging now too: for more friction on your clit, for his fingers to stretch open your dripping pussy and, even better, for his cock to fill you up.

After a bunch of other pussy slaps that made your skin tingle, Jake pulled down his pants and underwear to the middle of his thighs. He smeared the drops of precum across his tip and used his hand that was wet from your pussy to lube himself up. “I’ve been thinking of this pussy all day long.” He groaned as he spoke, brushing his tip through your wet folds.

Your legs parted even more open as you leaned on the windowsill. The two of you moaned at the same time when he pushed himself in your entrance. Your breath got stuck in your throat and the burning sensation quickly ignited your body all the way to your core.

He kept pushing, and not slowly.The desire to feel you wrapped around him paired with the urgency of being done before getting caught had Jake going faster than usual. Soon enough, your walls gripped on all of his length and he let out another loud grunt. He leaned down, the fabric of his pink shirt tickled the exposed skin of your ass. He asked you how you managed to not make a puddle at the game from how wet you were for him.

Your response only came in a long, loud moan that was interrupted by the noise of a door opening a few levels above your head.

Jake brought both of his hands to your mouth, covering it to muffle all of your noises and only let you breathe through your nose. If you both prayed hard enough, maybe the intruder would leave without catching a glimpse of the two of you.

Your bottom halves were exposed, Jake’s pelvis rested against your ass and his cock was filling you up to the brim. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt small strokes that increased in speed as the noise from upstairs faded.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Jake chuckled as he started to properly fuck you, his skin slapping on yours from his steady thrusts. “That was a close call.”

You hummed against his hands, still unable to respond.

“I felt you clenching on my cock.” He remained pressed against you and made your legs shake from both the weight of him and the weight of the pleasure that was spreading through your body. “I know you liked that.” His left hand stayed on your mouth but his left one slid down your body to meet with your slick pussy. “You like putting on a show, don’t you?”

You tried to speak the words ‘yes Daddy’ but only incoherent noises left your mouth.

His lips curled into a big smile. “That’s my good girl.”

The windowsill created indents on the skin of your arms from how much you relied on it to hold you up. You even struggled to keep your head up to look at the blurry views of the Eiffel tower and historical buildings. With Jake’s sharp and fast thrusts that kept pushing you forward and making your head bop like a silly toy and with his hand that roughly rubbed your clit from left to right, you were getting dizzy.

It took no time for Jake to get close, and for you to notice it too. His grunts were low and he breathed heavily behind you. He, too, was mumbling nonsense to rile the two of you up and take you over the edge. Praises about how you were “so fucking wet” and how “your pussy was made for this cock” resonated in the room until he stopped his thrusts for good. He focused on you.

He rubbed your clit in tight circles at the perfect speed. He let you clench on his cock and moan at the feeling of him inside you. The noises coming out of your mouth let him know he was doing everything right. He pushed the index and middle fingers of the hand that was trying — and failing — to keep you quiet in your mouth to prevent you from alerting the whole building.

“That’s it baby, give it to me.” With a few more seconds of your slick walls clenching around him, he shot his load inside of you. At that very moment, Jake was the one who needed to be gagged so he was not so loud. Ropes of cum filled you up and the grip of your pussy on him only made his cock throb more.

But you loved his noises, and you loved the way he made those waves of pleasure wash over your body as you came not long after him. Your orgasm made you dizzier than what it took to get you there. One by one, your thoughts started to come back to you and you put the puzzle pieces together. You almost got caught. There was no way you could hang out in the stairwell and take it for a second round without getting caught. Your ears started to buzz at the idea and when you tried to tell Jake that it was time to hurry up, he pulled out.

“Shit,” He ignored your whining about the sudden emptiness and adjusted your panties quickly. “Act normal.” Jake told you, the stern tone of his voice did not pair well with the sight you caught of his face that looked as fucked out as yours.

You flattened your skirt in confusion as Jake fixed the rest of his clothes. You finally realized what had caused such havoc: other people had entered the stairwell and were walking downstairs, in your direction. There was no way you would pass off as someone who acted normal in the slightest. You had spit, sweat and tears on your face and your weak knees made it incredibly hard to stand still. Even while holding on Jake’s arm and leaning on him, you were shaking like the branches of the trees outside. That breeze would have been more than welcome while you sat outside during the tennis game.

Jake laughed quietly at your pathetic attempts and, when the people finally walked besides you to go to the lower staircases, he helped you out by planting a kiss on your lips. He avoided the possibility of small talk and he also turned your brains into complete mush. That was the smartest idea he had all day.

It did not last for long. At the second the strangers were out of sight, Jake’s hand slid between your closed legs to cup your pussy over your panties. Sure enough, they were soaked and so were your inner thighs. Your felt him smile against your lips before he broke the kiss.

“Those panties are completely useless.” He stated the obvious with a light shrug. He reached both of his hands between your legs and pulled hard enough on the wet fabric to tear it apart so he could take it off for you. “You look so pretty for me, dripping with my cum like that.”

You watched him with your jaw dropped and glossy eyes while he put the ruined lingerie in the pocket of his pink shirt. The wetness would soak through it too, but you doubted that he cared much about that detail.

He grabbed your hand, his fingers still sticky from touching your panties. “Come on, baby. We’ll order some room service.” He pulled you along until you found the closest exit out of the stairwell. Neither of you were capable of using the stairs, at least not for their intended purpose. “Wanna bet on something else?” He ignored the way you shook your head in disapproval of whatever idea had popped above his head like a cartoon light bulb. “I bet that my cum will still be dripping out of you by the time we make it up to our room.”

You awkwardly walked with your legs closed and avoided looking at anything except Jake and the elevator you were headed towards. “And I bet it will have dripped down my legs.” You whispered when you got in the elevator. Much to your dismay, you were not alone.

Jake seemed content with your reply and, before pressing a kiss on your temple, he added a counteroffer to his bet. “In that case, I’ll have to add more where it came from. I need a new lock screen anyway so I’ll take a few photos of how beautiful my baby looks.”