Putting lip-gloss on Prompto and he’s all pouty, chasing him around the house to put makeup on him – Female!Reader(WC 799)
Imagine You putting the shiniest, glossiest, glitter filled lip-gloss on your boyfriend’s sweet lip.“Prompto! Prompto, stop! I promise you’ll look so pretty! C’monnnn.”
Prompto keeps swatting at your hand as you pursue his mouth with the wand of the glittery red lip-gloss, moving his head from side to side as his nose scrunches with defiance. “But it’s gooey!”
You pause your attack, the stick raised in the air as he blocks it with his wrist, jutting your eyebrows up challengingly. “You can’t put some strawberry-flavored gloss on your lips for a few seconds but I can have your cum all over my face and not complain?”
His wrist suddenly slackens up a bit, his eyes flitting back and forth between your eyes and the tube of lip gloss. His shoulders slump and he drops his arm in a ceasefire. “…Fine.”
You squeal excitedly, scooting closer to Prompto across the bed, leaning forward in concentration. You slowly swipe the applicator across his plump lips, stifling a giggle as his brows furrow begrudgingly at the weird slime coating his skin. He forms his mouth into an O-shape, not sure of what to do with his expression to make the process easier.
When you pull back, his face stays frozen in the silly form for a bit, eyebrows quirking up in question.
“You can move now.” You deadpan, capping the gloss and shaking your head with amusement.
Prompto purses his lips, rubbing them together and letting out a disgusted scoff. “It’s sticky.”
“So is your—”
“Okay, I get it! I’ll stop complaining.”
You grin triumphantly, pulling out your phone and snapping a quick pic of him.
“Oh, you look absolutely beautiful!” You exclaim dramatically, turning the screen of your device so he can see. Prompto squints at the picture, the corners of his painted mouth dipping down for a second in mild surprise. “Hm. I don’t look half bad, actually…”
“Red is definitely your color.” You comment as bringing a finger to his face and wiping away the excess at the edges of his mouth.
“Why don’t you come a little closer so we can see if it’s yours as well?” Prompto waggles his eyebrows playfully, purring deeply in the back of his throat and making kissy faces at you.
“Actually, why don’t I go get my mascara and see how long we can make your lashes?!” You roll out of the way as he grabs for you, snickering when you hear him whine with panicked disdain.
“Absolutely not!”
But you’re already running into the bathroom, grabbing the tube of mascara from the counter and hurrying back into your room, all to find Prompto on the other side of the bed, squatting in a defensive stance with his arms out in front of him to ward you off.
Prompto points at the makeup in your grasp, shaking his head and locking his wild gaze with your coy one. “You stay the hell away from me!”
“I don’t think so, sunshine boy!” You lunge at him, crawling over the bed shockingly fast.
He let’s loose a raspy shriek, throwing his body sideways and stumbling over his socked feet as he tumbles toward the door of your bedroom.
“Come back!” You’re already thumping onto the carpeted ground, chasing after your boyfriend as he slides through the crack in the door and scuttles down the corridor that leads to the living room.
“Stay back!” Prompto’s screeching over his shoulder hysterically as you skid down the hall and into the next room.
“I just want to make you look pretty!” You cry out, your cheeks hurting as you laugh maniacally.
Prompto grabs at a throw pillow from the near by couch, chucking it at you and missing by a hair as you lean and bend to avoid it. “And I just want to keep what’s left of my masculinity!”
He looks so hilarious, screaming about his manliness as his mouth glistens and glimmers under the dim, warm lights of the living room lamps.
“Just shut up and let me!” You jump towards Prompto on the left, only to be smacked in the face with another cushion. Despite this attack, you pounce forward, arms out and hands grabbing, testing your luck.
Your body collides with his, fists tightening on his broad shoulders, sending the both of you sprawling across the ground in a mess of surprised grunts and tangled limbs.
Prompto struggles against your hold as you straddle his thighs over his shorts, shoulders jolting desperately as his head whips from side to side. He wails out in a dramatic, cinema-like voice, biting back giggles while trying to put forward a serious front as you struggle to pin his back against the floor.
“Release me, Y/N!”
“Sure Prompto! Just right after I make you all pretty.”
Toad's Cave 