#yes i didn’t decide i was doing kinktober until 8:30pm and i finished this and am posting it at roughly 11:30pm but i made it

[cobrakatharsis]

kinktober 2022

prompt list

day one: praise | lipstick

terry silver/tkk-ish johnny lawrence

—

the lipstick tube had looked expensive.

johnny isn’t even particularly sure if lipstick tube is the right wording - he thinks he remembers hearing his mother call them that? - but the employee of silver’s who’d applied it for him hadn’t exactly said much, least of all clarified the names of the makeup products she was using. she was a maid, maybe, dressed in one of those black and white dresses with a pretty face, and she’d worked with clinical efficiency as she’d brushed subtle sparkles over johnny’s eyelids, applied mascara to his pale lashes, swept light blush over his cheeks, and finally brought out the ornate, golden tube of lipstick. she’d removed the lid and set it down with a tap that spoke of its weight, twisted the part she was still holding in her hand to reveal blood red, and then gently held the side of johnny’s face as she’d neatly painted his lips in confident strokes.

she’d told johnny, in one of the only sentences she’d spoken, that he wasn’t allowed to look at himself. knowing it was silver’s order and not hers, likely given at the same time she’d been ordered to put makeup on johnny, he’d obeyed and avoided the bathroom mirror - and now he’s glad he did, because no way would he be able to fake this reaction now.

he’s staring at his own reflection in one of the big mirrors in silver’s room, silver stood behind him with his hands still on johnny’s shoulder from where he’d guided him over, and johnny’s cheeks are flushed far brighter than the subtle powder blush had made them. it’s a shade far closer to the red of his lips, but his lips are really something else. glossy and shiny and sweet and painted so neatly, the colour perfectly tracing the shape of his cupid’s bow and right where the swell of his lower lip ends.

“look at you,” silver whispers, reverent as he stares at johnny’s reflection. “you look perfect. absolutely perfect. you're perfect. you’re beautiful.”

johnny, despite the rush of the praise making his knees weak, almost wants to tell silver to stop when one of those large hands comes up to just barely graze his lips. embarrassingly - infuriatingly, his shame supplies - he feels a brief moment of panic at the idea of his makeup being carelessly ruined when it looks so…pretty.

silver must see the minute movement of his lips - and with the way his gaze is so firmly fixed there it’s no wonder - because he stops his thumb, just barely touching johnny’s lower lip, as his eyes spark.

“oh, i know,” he coos, voice full of exaggerated sympathy, “your makeup is so beautiful, you don’t want it ruined.”

and then he moves his thumb. it’s a gentle swipe that just barely smudges the colour onto johnny’s pale skin, but against the perfection it looks brutal, and something else lights up in silver’s eyes with the sight.

something hot suddenly lights up in johnny too, staring at that tiny smear of red. even hotter than the makeup itself had embarrassingly been.

“but don’t worry, baby. it can be done again,” silver continues, leaning in closer to graze his own lips up the line of johnny’s throat, gaze still fixed on johnny’s face in the reflection. “and again, and again. it’s no loss.”

johnny shivers as silver presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw then, then kisses his way back down to johnny’s shoulder, finally pulling his gaze away for the briefest of moments - but when he looks back he meets johnny’s eyes.

“and i want so badly to ruin you. and how can i possibly resist, when you look like this?”

johnny’s expecting him to swipe his thumb again. or maybe use his fingers this time, or turn johnny around and kiss him until his lipstick’s smeared down his chin, but silver steps back with a deep breath and an air of patience - the way he gets when he’s resisting impulses, reminding himself of bigger ideas - and then very calmly begins undoing his belt.

“on your knees,” he orders.

and part of johnny - the same part that always does - wants to bristle and fight and make him work for it. but perhaps it’s the effect of looking like a bitch that has him dropping to his knees like one, parting his lips as silver fishes his cock out and outright whining as he’s grabbed by the hair and a generous portion of the length is forced down his throat.

“good boy,” silver tells him, manic grin on his face as he hears johnny immediately choke. “you’re going to take it so well, aren’t you, pretty boy? you’re going to be so good. let me make you even prettier.”

johnny can already feel his lipstick smearing. he’s achingly hard, getting impossibly harder. he can just imagine glossy red painting silver’s cock where it touches his lips, smearing with drool, smearing the whole mess around his mouth too, and immediately he’s filled with the burning desire to see.

he glances into the mirror beside them at the same moment the first tears overflow from his wet eyes, trailing watery black down his cheeks from the already-smudged mascara, and his stomach swoops. silver’s big hand moves to hold johnny’s jaw, uses his thumb to smear the glitter around johnny’s eyes in an arc down his cheekbone, like he’s making it match, making sure no part of johnny remains neat, and johnny whines again, high and eager and deeply ashamed.

he looks like a whore. it doesn’t matter that the lipstick was expensive and encased in gold, monogrammed with some luxury brand, or that all of his makeup was put on so carefully. it’s ruined now.

he wants it to be ruined more.