♯ 𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙿 𝙿𝙸𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙳: an ind. portrayal of john WINCHESTER from the series 𝚂𝚄𝙿𝙴𝚁𝙽𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙰𝙻. est. 1954. writer 𖬺 muse HE ╱ HIM 🏳️⚧️. bi + masc lean; full lit 𖬺 desc. #supernaturalrp#mvrp#HorrorRP
Lids flutter closed, allowing himself to be consumed by sin, indulging in turn despite himself for but a taste of the other’s lips. Hands come to waist immediacy, guiding lithe form closer. Whether it be tinged with cherry or not, frankly. He is breathless, near entranced.
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An amused expression hovered the face enclosed by the blonde wig. Leaning in. Taking the nape of beloved. Moulding their lips together in a passionate kiss of greed. Exchanging in this , the awaited fruity taste. 𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚.
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“If I am so selfish as to steal a kiss from you, would I have the pleasure of a flavored gloss?”
It is what his mind drifts towards, it would seem, eyeing plush brims. The state of dress appeared unsurprising to him. Intrigued perhaps, more enamored than he had already been.
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Recognising lover, Ambrose opened eyes wide. After all, it was the first time he had seen the owner like this. A smirk pinned glossy brims.
"Well , I embrace what is the feminine side of my features." Raising head so the mortal could look freely. —
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“I do believe so, yes.” A soft chuckle, oceanic hues sparkling in equal accounts of mirth and awe.
“I do not believe I will ever understand how you’ve managed to accomplish such perfection. Not owed to the make—up, I would say. A natural gift, then.” Thumb draws chin towards.
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The owner took the stage to perform in turn. Not having seen the reader approach. Silhouetted in high heels and fishnet, leaning to the side to grab suitcase. Face perfectly made up, androgynous features highlighted, avoiding gaze slightly.
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"You enjoyed the show —?"
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yet so faintly mischievous one might consider it how bonnie once gazed upon clyde. ﹚
good. i’ll have to check upon you more frequently, i believe. i cannot let you alone for too long——who knows what trouble you will get yourself into.
﹙ there. it is that expression right there that had caused him to be so inexplicably drawn to the man that stands before him. the glint in his eye that had once been lost, new purpose beckoning it to resurface on such charming features.
he hums in affirmation. yes, it was
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﹙ he stared, a moment too long, maybe, as the other man’s words settled in. a conscious blink followed, slow, like it took effort to come back to the present. such simple https://t.co/DBAE4NWN3b
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for this small moment exactly—— so sparse in appearance, and yet so faithfully committed to memory—— that he loved him so dearly. though, he has grown content in his silence.
his face belies the nostalgic wave that clouds his mind, however; a conservative smile, gaze so soft
The warmth coursing through his body pays homage to the life still imbued within, his light not yet dwindled by neither his absence nor the mistakes he has made and the tribulations he has encountered without his guidance.
Gaze flickers, caged by lashes both dark and elegant,
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Own nose daring to come on the curve of life's warm neck. Inhaling deeply as if lungs wanted to be infatuated by Christian alone.
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Before the face recoils and admires in open contemplation, the features ,long missed. Like an azury caress over features. —
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his lovers face so diligently committed to memory with every passing moment until he cannot restrain his longing.
Lips slot perfectly, as though crafted distinctly with their union in mind———inevitable, the course of action was as affection is savored as though Christian himself
“Truly? Then perhaps, one day, our paths will intertwine. I’ll have to ask Ambrose to allow us a duet. I play whilst you … sing? Dance?”
He leans in with each guess, a playful narrowing of brilliant blues as he tries to decipher what it is her performance entails.
A glimmer of excitement flashed in her eyes at the mention, nudging his arm playfully. “Moulin Rouge…?” She should have known her maître would be quick to scout such talent.
“I perform there as well! What a small world.” As delightful as the coincidence was, —