#natural blood stained blonde

[twochildreninamoteldemo]

DEAN WINCHESTER; “ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE, PART II”

[twochildreninamoteldemo]

1. Dean

2-3. Sam

4. John

5. Dean

6. Sam

“1. This is how the story goes. A boy raised in captivity falls in love with a sun he sees for the first time, flies too close thinking he can possess it, doesn’t listen to a father’s warning and plummets into the sea. His father grieves, so everyone grieves. The story is immortalised in the boy’s blood, a tale passed down with silkdelicate care through eternity. 2. There is another story. In it a boy asks too many questions, lusts too much for more, dares to question his father’s authority. He is banished from the skies, sent falling from the heavens but he does not die. Instead he is named ruler of all that is cruel, painful and wretched with the world. No one grieves for this boy, as he is deemed the root of all evil. 3. It is the way of the universe for boys to disobey their fathers, for children to question what they know and want more, more from their lives. 4. The way a father chooses to love after this happens is how the story is told. 5. This is the reason everyone weeps for Icarus. 6. It is also the reason no tears were ever shed for Lucifer.”

— Icarus and Lucifer, Nikita Gill

[twochildreninamoteldemo]

dean winchester's got that james dean jason dean dean moriarty swagggggg baby he fucking looks like his name should be dean

[chineseshoestore]

[dubacheryking]

"i knew it was love/when i rode home crying/thinking of you fucking other girls" ok idk man. tell me it's not fucking daverose.

[twochildreninamoteldemo]

hey. yeah your boyfriend got electrocuted and he's in the hospital. yeah he had a heart attack. yeah. no he's wearing a hoodie. his brother's taking him to a faith healer but he doesn't think he deserves to be saved. yeah sorry. yeah it's intense unintentional foreshadowing. yeah don't fear the reaper is playing

[long-hot-summer]

pretty girl who lets me play dust bowl in the car, I love you dearly and I'm glad to be your blonde boy

[timdrakesbussy]

sam/penny to me is so willoughby tucker/ethel cain coded

[bediup]

Pretty boy natural blood-stained blond With the holes in his sneakers And his eyes all over me

inspired by @mothercain

[twochildreninamoteldemo]

[yandere-writer-momo]

For my birthday, I decided to finally drop the Jack Hanma smut piece! Enjoy

Yandere Baki Short Stories:

Carne

Yandere Jack Hanma x Female Reader

TW: Cannibalism as a metaphor for love, blood kink, smut, YANDERE, etc.

Hands desperately clawed at the table in front of (your name) in an attempt to ground herself. Pants and wanton moans spilled from her lips as she was driven to the brink of insanity…

“This is what you get for teasing me.” A deep voice snarled in her ear and his hips pistoned into hers. His monstrous length slid between her damp folds as a puddle of their fluids dripped beneath them. (Your name)’s toes were over feet off the ground while her legs dangled in the air since Jack held her body up with his strong arms. “Always flaunting yourself around the other fighters. Parading around in those tight clothes like a whore.”

(Your name)’s head lulled to the side, a loud groan spilled from her swollen lips. Jack had been abusing her poor lower lips with his monstrous length for hours now. The stream of fluid leaking from her pussy was unending. (Your name) wasn’t even aware that Jack had any feelings for her. Their relationship was mostly physical. A no strings attached sort of arrangement. How was she to know he would grow jealous of her friendly banter with the other martial artists?

Jack was simply an outlet for her pent up frustrations, just like (your name) was an outlet to build ‘strength.’ His half brother, Baki, had put a worm in his ear that sex made one more powerful and Jack had approached her with that intention only… until he became attached. Until Jack became so overbearing and protective of her.

Wherever she was, Jack was never far. The blonde tank always stood guard over her. Whenever she’d confront Jack, he’d deny that he had feelings but (your name) knew the truth. She just didn’t care to correct him. Jack was a man one never wanted to anger. Jack was more of a beast than a man, one who would rip his apart like wrapping paper if they even looked in his direction funny. And she would like to keep that animalistic nature of his strictly in the bedroom.

Jack used to leave her in early hours in the morning after a nightly tryst, but now he stayed with her and cuddled. Sometimes he even made (your name) breakfast in bed. This development terrified her because (your name) never gave him any indication that she wanted a romantic relationship. She was always civil with him and treated him like a human being. She didn’t understand why he interpreted kindness as love. But perhaps it had something to do with his rough upbringing.

Jack was a man who felt like he didn’t deserve love nor life since he was brought into this world from hate. A man who only lived for revenge and nothing more… a man who now found solace in (your name)’s arms and in between her legs. A man who would never leave her side until she was completely his. Jack would drown her in his sea of affection until she adapted to be able to breathe in it.

(Your name) was swallowed whole in his musky, woodsy scent. The strong scent of pine overwhelmed her senses. All she could feel was Jack. All she could smell was Jack. Jack. Jack. Jack.

She came undone once more when his titanium teeth lightly grazed against the soft skin of her shoulder. Her walls grasped the empty space while his length ran between it. (Your name) desperately wanted him to fill her. To stretch her poor, weeping cunt until she was satisfied.

And in an instant his teeth sunk into her neck hard enough to draw blood, but not hard enough to rip a chunk of her off like he did to his opponents. His strong pink muscle darted out to greedily lap at the blood that trickled down her skin. His mouth now stained scarlet.

“Everything about you is so delicious… I can’t get enough of you.” Jack muttered into (your name)’s skin, his cinnamon eyes hazy with lust. “What kind of witchcraft have you cast on me?”

(Your name) gasped when he used a hand to tilt her chin up to look at him. A smirk on his face at how dazed her expression was.

“You’re so beautiful.” (Your name) could barely move when he bent down to kiss her. She could taste the iron of her own blood on his tongue as the strong muscle dominated hers. His large hand lights pressed against her through that left her absolutely breathless. The pace of his brutal thrusts never ceased.

Drool dripped out of the sides of her mouth and onto her bruised chest. Various bruises and bite marks littered her skin in a grotesque picture of love.

(Your name) was so lost… where did she begin and where did Jack end? How could a man consume her entirety to the point that she melted into him? That her blood mixed with his in a gory display of devotion?

“I love you. I love you so much.” Jack whispered in her ear as he dragged his tongue across the salty tears that fell down her cheeks. Had she been crying? (Your name) hadn’t even realized. “I love you so much, I want to become a part of you.”

A loud cry escaped her lips when she felt Jack’s hips start to slow, his grip on her throat never ceased. His cinnamon eyes filled with a voracious hunger she knew only her entire being could quench.

“You’re mine. No one else can have you. I don’t want to be with anyone else.”

And that’s when he finally shoved himself inside. His tongue tangled with hers and (your name) came on his length again. She could feel him spill himself inside her fluttering walls with a goal in mind. A goal he’d never reach since he was infertile from excessive steroid usage.

(Your name) went limp like a noodle while his viscous seed spilled from between her legs. Jack’s strong arms still held her up. His lips pressed hot kisses all over her face.

(Your name) slowly reached her hands up to cup his cheeks. A few tears spilled from Jack’s eyes while he shuddered. His lungs gasped for breath but he couldn’t help but hold his in anticipation. Jack wanted to know her answer, he wanted to know if his twisted feelings were reciprocated.

“I’m yours.”

Yes, she’d accept Jack. There was no one else in this world that has ever been attached of this broken man’s side and she’d be that person. She’d be his solace. (Your name) would be his meal.

For limerence and love were merely separated by a thin line.

[yandere-yearnings]

Contract-Bound Death (Yandere!Actor x GN!Reader)

feat. Viorel Dalca

♡ pt.0, approx. 1k words | next.

♡ post-specific warnings: (off-screen) murder, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, the entertainment industry, dark themes, implied use of contracts as a threat | series warnings: yandere themes, the entertainment industry, reader has a guilt complex

♡ a/n: we're pretending it's still 'around the end of october' so i'm not a liar. this is purely a work of fiction. yandere behaviour in real life is a cause of concern. unedited, not proofread.

♡♡♡

It’s the middle of the night, and the floors are still stained with blood when you arrive. Thin smears across marble, flaking up when the wheels of your suitcase roll over them. You'd convince yourself it was just rust that had formed over time, but the lie would die too easy for you to try. After all, now you were working for the devil — and who would he be without murder to his name?

You see him for the first time under the low lights, chandeliers casting dim orange overhead. The Vio before you looks so very different from the one you'd watched from the other side of your screen. Lacking his trademark blue, blonde to the roots and rolling over, wearing white as blank as the look he shot you, brow raised into a pinched arch. You tell yourself that his disdain is only so palpable because he's been through these exact motions a million times before. You tell yourself that it's only natural. 

His attention shifts quickly, back to his script and the lines highlighted in electric teal. It's at this point you realise he isn't going to give you the time of day, that he won't even consider it. All the training leading up to this moment has whittled away your hopes, and finally, they've diminished. Wiping away cold sweat for the promise of six figures lying somewhere in your future, praying that if you didn't last the week, you'd at least be fired instead of killed. 

Unlike the last man in your shoes.

The lump in your throat is firm where it lodges itself; you swallow once, twice and give up. Dry lips parting so you can speak, hoarsely. “Hey.” Already, the nerves have made formality slip your mind. “I'll be working with you from now on. Your new manager.”

Vio scoffs and flicks a page. you think you notice him glare. “Hey,” he mimics, “it’s been a minute and I already can't stand you.”

Wincing at the harshness and deciding that now isn’t the time — that there would likely never be one since the rumours about him had proven to hold — you steal away. Thankfully, Vio doesn’t give you a harder time for it. You suppose he wanted you out of sight, so he wouldn’t.

At least you had your room to look forward to. Back in the winding hallways that this job forced home to you, all your life packed up in the little fabric box that trundled on behind. These white walls made everything seem like they stretched on forever, made you feel awfully alone. A wide world you’d stepped foot on, it was funny how you had been so ready only to get lost so soon.

Tomorrow’s schedule was an early start, high rise at the break of dawn so the light felt more natural on camera. Vio was shooting a solo scene. He’d be the only actor on set. Somehow that did nothing to calm your nerves. Somehow it made them worse. Up velvet steps, your footprints pressed their marks. The choice of colour made you remember something that a producer had said to you before this: that scarlet covered scarlet well. Your stomach churned.

On the ceiling of the top-most storey, there was a brown door nestled in the far corner. You stopped and stared at it for a long while, at the string that dangled down, worn and frayed and used time and time again by different hands. Yours would be the next to pull it, and maybe you didn’t want to anymore. Over your shoulder, there was the winding staircase that you’d just traveled, leading back down to the entrance. The sight drew a sigh from you, it was choked and wet because no matter how much you were beginning to regret this all — you’d signed your life away. That entryway could never be an exit to you.

So you turned your back to it.

Pulling down and unfolding the steps didn’t take much effort, yet the hinges seemed strong. You hauled your luggage up first before you followed, just to stall a second more. Surprisingly, the attic was unlike the rest of the mansion. A largely wooden interior gave it character, and strung fairy lights around potted plants made it feel warm. For a single moment, you found your breath taken in a better way than it had been all week, and then it filled back into your lungs entirely cold because there was something you’d almost forgotten. A dead man had lived here before you.

The way the image kept haunting you, you were starting to convince yourself that it must’ve been your hands that wrapped around his throat and strangled the glimmer from his eyes. They never did, though. It was Vio who took his life. You’d watched it happen from a ways away, but it had still been in front of you. You’re not sure what you had been expecting after that, things were too late; before you could even breathe a word there were papers being held to your neck like knives and they all had your name on them. 

As you shut yourself in and sat there, in the glow you’d been greeted by and that had started to flicker, you finally broke. Your tears were hot but that didn’t make them any comfort. You were scared. Everywhere you turned you were met with the dead looks of people who had seen it all again and again and again. Unable to understand how you were the outlier in this normality. Terrified that Vio didn’t seem even the slightest bit remorseful. Terrified that you’d get used to it. 

World spinning, all a blur on your heavy bones. Fatigue settled and inside you knot after knot tied. You felt heavy, like you’d been flooded entirely in water. No matter how much you cried, the sensation did not ebb. Perhaps your guilt remained to save you. Perhaps it endured, on your mind as the last thing, so that you were still human when you woke up come morning.

[airbendertendou]

I'M IN RUINS! ♡ mitsuya takashi

synopsis : maybe he really is just that nice to everyone. | inspired by the cdrama hidden love

song inspo ; going dumb by stray kids, alesso, corsak

cw : baji!reader ; reader has their period, but no pronouns ; baji is referred to as your brother, but looks aren't stated ; more of a college-ish au ; kazutora favortism briefly got the best of me

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

It's so unfair, you think. Being so close to him, yet not allowing to linger — it's disheartening. You ache ; suffer and beg and cry, thinking of your brother's friend.

Baji sighs as you frown at him. "Do you really need to go?"

"Why am I not allowed to?" You reply. You'd put on your cutest outfit and your favorite shoes. After hearing Mitsuya was tagging along to this little get together, how could you not? "I'm hungry and you're going to eat."

"You never want to go," your brother argues. You cross your arms and tilt your head, raising your eyebrows to look stern. It's the way your mom looks at him ; the way she gets him to listen. Keisuke clicks his tongue, "whatever. Come on, then."

——♡——

By the time Chifuyu pulls up to the meeting area, your stomach is aching. You shuffle where you stand, sending a meek smile to Draken when he looks your way. Kazutora is distracting your brother, giggling together as you wait for the last guest to arrive.

A rumble hits the wind, covering the chattering of the other guys and numerous shoppers. Lilac hair shines in the light and you hold your breath — he's here.

"Boys," Mitsuya grins as he parks his bike. His eyes slide to you, smile growing gentle, less teasing. “Hey, trouble. Make a last minute decision to come?"

You nod silently, holding your stomach and trying to hide your grimace. Mitsuya tilts his head curiously, but gets taken into a conversation with Draken. You tug on the end of Baji's hair, "I'm going to the bathroom really quick."

A chest is pressed to your back quicker than you can think. A hand — gentle and firm simultaneously — leads you to the left. Mitsuya clears his throat as you scowl at him. "I'll show you where the bathroom is."

You want to cry. You're absolutely mortified at what you discover. Your pee is red — the reason behind your stomach pain is clear. Your favorite bottoms are stained and you're unable to wear them now. Having your period is natural, nothing to be ashamed about.

But, Mitsuya noticed. He shielded your backside so that no one else would see the splash of blood.

Leaning against the stall's wall, you sniffle as tears drip down your nose. You'd texted Draken about your current problem — Keisuke had broken his phone just yesterday. The blond was your only hope at this point ; you hoped he'd read your text soon.

"[Name]," a knock to the bathroom door startles you. "Here. I'll wait for you, okay?"

Humiliation — Mitsuya had taken it upon himself to get you supplies. Taking in a stuttered breath, you fought to make your sobs unknown. You dab your face with toilet paper lightly before opening the door. Quickly, you snatch the bag you see and ignore the one standing in the doorway.

He'd gotten you a new outfit, too. The same color as your previous one, so that no one else would notice what happened. Your tears fell again as you situated yourself.

Once out of the bathroom, you sniff and avoid Mitsuya's gaze. Draken is leaning against the wall across from you, looking over you quickly as you walked to him. You brush your bottoms lightly, head to the floor as you stand in silence.

"No big deal," Draken reassures you. He pats the top of your head with a grin, "let me know if you want to go home, okay?"

Your nod is stopped by an arm wrapping aound your shoulders. Mitsuya squeezes you close to him, trapping you in the smell of his cologne. "S'all good, trouble. Tell us if you feel unwell."

The light catches through a window, shining on Mitsuya like a hidden halo. His eyes light up, his eyelashes curving against his cheek as he smiles. Mitsuya's nose scrunches as laughs at something Draken says. Peeking at you with his peripheral vision, he tilts his head.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re so nice to me.” It's said before you can even think. Because he is nice to you — kind, welcoming and warm. Mitsuya squeezes you a bit closer before letting go of you completely. Chifuyu waves your way excitedly. Your small, "thank you," is covered by the noise of the restaraunt.

——♡——

Mitsuya had left the table not long ago. Keisuke shoves your shoulder, causing you to bump into Kazutora. The dual-haired boy gasps dramatically before shoving into your right shoulder, bumping you back into your brother.

Your giggles are drowned out by the sight of Draken shaking his head. Chifuyu speaks through his own laughter, "where's Mitsuya?"

"Flirting," Draken says with a roll of his eyes. Your smile fades, falling from your face slowly at the words. Draken lets out a loud sigh, "can't take him anywhere."

Baji grumbles into your ear, "I'll say."

Kazutora snorts, covering his mischivious grin with his hand. He lays his head on your shoulder, "oh, whatever shall we do with such a pretty boy?"

Your grin inflates again at Kazutora's casual teasing. You ruffle his hair, scrunching your nose as he scowls playfully at you. "You're a pretty boy, too, you know."

Kazutora's eyes widen, his cheeks pinkening at your words as he sits up straight. Your eyes slide across the table. "So is Chifuyu, honestly." You look to your brother and grimace, "don't know what happened to you."

Baji clicks his tongue before shoving you again. Kazutora catches you in a backwards hug, his forearm settling across your collarbones. "Be nice to [name], Baji!"

"Jus' cause you were called pretty..." your brother grumbles to himself.

The chair across from you is pulled out, a loud screech hitting the area you're in. Mitsuya plops down with a stone-faced expression, his eyes focused solely on you. "Enjoying ourselves, are we?"

"Like you can talk," Draken teases. The tall blond flutters his eyelashes and clasps his hands together. "Oh, it's you! From class! The fashion designer!"

"Can't talk to my classmates now?"

Chifuyu snickers, kicking your foot under the table as he does. You shake your head, sinking your chin below Kazutora's arm to hide your grin. Mitsuya eyes your position idly before tilting his head, "you both look comfy."

Kazutora pulls you closer, "[Name] thinks I'm pretty."

"I said Chifuyu was, too!"

The dual-haired boy hums into your ear. "But, you thought of me first."

"As fun as this is," Draken looks up from his phone. He sighs before pocketing the device. "Mikey is calling for us. Want me to take you home, [name]?"

"I'll do it," Mitsuya interrupts. He lets out a sigh, gaze drifting from you and laying on the table. "I'm going to check on my sisters, anyways."

You're waving to your friends as Mitsuya leans against his bike. You can feel him watching you, but you ignore his eyes to grin gleefully at Kazutora.

"He your recent crush?"

"What?" You blink, turning to face the lilac-haired boy. Mitsuya shrugs, making no move to leave as he gazes at you. "Kazu? He's not my crush, why?"

"But, you do have one," he steps closer to you. "A crush."

Gulping, you move away from him and to the back of the bike. "Maybe."

Mitsuya hums, "your brother know?"

"Why would I tell Keisuke about a crush?" You lean beside him now, frowning to the ground. Kicking at the sidewalk with your foot, you scrunch your nose. "He's horrible at keeping secrets."

He nods and you're hyperaware of the way his arm brushes against yours. It's like he's doing it on purpose — moving closer to you. "I'm not. You can tell me who it is."

"No thanks!"

"Why not?"

You grow silent, even as Mitsuya gets closer. His arm is behind your back at this point, his hand sitting on the seat of his bike. "You don't need to know."

"I want to."

"Do you have a crush on anyone?" As he doesn't answer, you finally look his way. Soft, dreamy eyes are looking at you. His gaze feels heavy ; heated as he stares your way. "Mitsuya?"

He blinks and looks away, "maybe."

"Would you tell me who it is?"

"Well, that's not fair," he leans closer, his lips brush against your ear, "is it, [name]?"

You freeze, eyes widening as Mitsuya tilts his head at you curiously. Staring at the ground, you think about it for a second. You think maybe I should tell him ; maybe it's time. Then your mind flashes back to before — to when Draken said he was flirting.

"Oh, is it someone from your class? The one Ken was talking about?"

Mitsuya doesn't answer — that means yes, you think. Downhearted, you frown and scoot away from him, leaving room to breathe. He doesn't allow that, though, scooting until your arms are pressed together once again.

"It's a friend," Mitsuya speaks up. He leans more to the left, his chin almost resting on your right shoulder. "A close friend."

You gasp dramatically, hoping to interrupt the intense atmosphere. "It's Chifuyu, isn't it? Knew it — he's irresistible."

Mitsuya snorts, rolling his eyes. You smile at the sound, oblivious to the way he gazes at you. He bites his lip, hesitant, but nudges the tip of his shoe against yours anyways. You meet his gaze — his eyes flicker from yours briefly before he smiles tenderly. "I'll tell you who it is. Eventually."

You trust he'll keep his word.

——♡—— idk abt a part two for this one... tbh i like how it ends. if youd like to b tagged / untagged in any tokyo revengers content, let me know! ♡

🍓FOREVER TAGS : @straysugzhpe ♥︎ @star2fishmeg ♥︎

🍓 TOKYOREV TAGLIST : @thatpoindexterpixy

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[twochildreninamoteldemo]

Via @applecrumbledore

my “problematic” head canon about dean is that he has a coke habit

[dutiful-wildcraft]

I thought to myself, ya know? There isn't enough Gaz/Ghost. So I fixed that problem.

Fluff, 1K, unedited, enjoy <3

It starts with the pair laying together, soft and sweet in the afterglow.

Never in a million years would Gaz guess that Simon would match his touchiness. Scarred hands massaging and petting almost incessantly at Gaz’s warm skin. It’s reverent, eyes and hands roaming over his body with a soft curiosity that had Gaz shivering in his arms.

Simon's eyes flicker up from where they were trained on the curve of Gaz's waist, tries to withdraw his hand when he catches Gaz's look of amusement.

Gaz snags him or course, gives his palm a squeeze and replaces it firmly back at his waist, squirming in closer to Simon's bulky frame, like a cat demanding pets.

Simon continues after a moment, shifting to draw patterns with his fingertips over his skin that has Gaz biting back ticklish laughs, he peers back up at him, finds eye black stained eyes trained back on him, an almost confused furrow to his brow as his fingers stroke back and forth.

“What's on your mind doll?” Gaz murmurs, pressing a small kiss to his shoulder. 

Simon pauses again, flattens his palm back out to slide down his hip, grab a handful a plush ass that has Gaz biting at his shoulder in playful retaliation.

“How are you so bloody soft?” Simon finally rumbles out, curling an arm around him to squeeze him close, bury his face into Gaz’s curls and inhale the warm scent that constantly clings to the man. 

Gaz laughs, rich and sweet, presses a trio of kisses over Simon’s heart in a quick rhythm. 

“I’ll show you.”

-

Gaz half thinks the big boy was going to back out as he corrals Simon into his bathroom. Simon stands there,  still and quiet as Gaz moves around the small space, void like eyes watching him as he unloads a small collection of hair and skincare products he’d picked up specifically for gentle giant.

It isn't until after a sufficient amount of steam is billowing from the shower and Gaz is guiding Simon’s old band t shirt off of his shoulders does he notice the stark blush creeping up his chest, red creeping up his neck. 

“Gettin’ shy on me?” Gaz teases, placating him with another kiss as he tugs off the ratty balaclava, revealing Simon’s full glare.  His hair has grown out, blonde curls sad and dry. Gaz would take care of that too. 

Gaz sets to work as soon as they climb into the shower,  guides Simon under the warm spray and pours a sweet smelling shampoo between his palms, working Simon’s curls over with gentle massaging. It’s powerful Gaz thinks, to see his lover like this, at peace, eyes closed as Gaz draws swirls in the suds of his hair. 

He applies a light leave in conditioner to sit next while he works his way down to clean away the remnant eye black from Simon’s face. Rubbing away the stubborn paint from his eyes and cheeks with gentle hands. Simon is putty in his arms, practically leaning on him as he works an expensive soap over his curves, thoroughly massaging the sweet smelling scent into skin as he works him over from head to toe.

After he’s finished he props Simon up against the shower wall and subtly gives a little show of lathering himself down. Simon’s hands are on him almost immediately, his hands playing in the bubbles against his skin as he steals kisses under the warm spray. Gaz just barely gets him pried off to wash his own hair, almost giddy with the way Simon watches him. Eyes following the rivulets of water that slide along his skin. 

It’s a challenge to coax his cold natured partner out of the hot spray, but Gaz can barely fight off his pleased grin as he finally pulls Simon free, his lover red faced and dreamy as he pats him dry with a soft towel, and works another lotion into his pale skin. He can tell Simon is valiantly trying to will away the blood flowing to his groin, chubbing up his length as Gaz sits pretty on his knees, working over Simon’s calves and thighs. 

“Like being pampered don’t you doll?” Gaz purrs, pressing a cheeky kiss to his thigh that has Simon’s fingers curling into his hair in warning. “Be patient.” he reminds. 

Simon complies, of course he does, lets Gaz coat is hair with a light curl cream, fingers carefully taming and reshaping the short curls that Simon has neglected for years. Sits quietly on the toilet seat while Gaz shaves away the stubble that he knows Simon hates , lines up the back of his neck to keep his curls from touching there, applies cool feeling creams to face to battle any razor burn of acne.

By the time it’s all said and done, Gaz can’t help but admire the man. 

Simon is glowing. 

Pretty blonde curls so soft and shiny. Face clean and cheeks pink. Gaz runs his hands over his skin, preening happily at the silky glide of his fingers over Simon’s muscles, the way Simon’s own scent mingles beautifully with the honey almond scent Gaz painted him with. A little treat Gaz is more than happy to have all to himself. 

He’s never seen the man drunk, but Gaz thinks this must be pretty close. Simon’s eyes are half-lidded, dopey with the way Gaz caresses his face, pets over his skin like he’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen. Kisses him sweet and slow, chuckling as Simon’s big paws find him again, pulling him in close by the hips, former chub now full and hot against his thigh. 

“Come along sweets, not done with you yet.”

[twochildreninamoteldemo]

he hit me and it felt like a kiss (insp. @bl00dyrust)