#one is big. one is small. and one doesn't even have a mask

[markos-husband]

Hector Valentino Airnesto Condicionado Headcanons

Sfw

• Chubby. Without a doubt this man is chubby. We never really get a good look at Hector without his cardboard box he calls clothes (I love you Hector, please get some actually clothes my love). We can see his body a bit better in his ending and, to me at least, he look very clearly chubby but its also kinda hard to see his body.

• I love his face so much, I can't even describe it. His soft jaw, his slight double chin, his curls, his crooked nose AHHHH- He's so perfect.

• He has some of the best handwriting you've ever seen. His cursive his beautiful but him writing in Spanish is other worldly with how beautiful it looks. I think that he loves to leave you letter and notes for you to find, especially if he knows you're having a hard day.

• Smells sooooo good. I imagine him smelling like hazelnut, cocobutter, and that smell when you turn on the heat for the first time in the winter, that sorta smokey, dusty smell. He's also well groomed. He uses soap, body wash, shampoo, conditioner, and a hair mask every time he takes a shower, and not a five in one.

• He's gives off Phantom of the Opera vibes for sure and I thinks he's definitely written songs for you but I dont think he a good singer. I love him! But that man couldn't sing to save his life, his off tempo and slightly off key. It not his voice that's the problem, just rhythm issues.

• Speaking of Hector's voice, he does occasionally speak to you in his deep voice, especially during intimacy but he get embarrassed talking like that when there isn't a barrier between you and him. I actually like his natural, higher voice despite a lot of people not. If you don't like Hector in his cardboard box, high pitch, double chin form, you dont deserve him as he faceless, mysterious figure in the vents 😤.

• Some of his favorite nicknames for you are "my love" "my darling" "mi amor" "sweet boy" and "my starlight" when he's feel poetic.

Nsft

• Average size. He isn't crazy big but he's not small either. He had dark curls down there that he trims now and then but most let's go wild. VERY sensitive tip that constantly drips pre-cum, no need for lube!

• Switch but mostly a bottom, and definitely a sub even when he tops. If you ask him to be more dominant he will but you're always the one in control over him. He focuses on your pleasure always, please tie him up and make him cum a few times.

• He's loud but very embarrassed about it. He covers his face as tried his best to be quiet but when you pin down his hips to keep him from squirming and thrust so deep you hit his prostate, how can he be quiet? All the objects in the house know about what happened just from Hector. He always tries to talk during sex which get a bit frustrating because he just keeps telling you that he doesn't have to cum and that he'll be okay when he very clearly is about to cum from your touch. Gag him and the moan and whimpers that escape will be ungodly.

• Very open to trying new thing. Bondage? He can tie a good knot and doesn't mind the feeling of control being taken away. Toys? Anything that will make your experience more pleasurable even if they toys are for him. Wax play? Ice cubes? Uh, he might be a bit too into this one...

• Begs. This goes along with how loud he is but he will beg like there is no tomorrow, he is not ashamed to ask for what he wants.

• Aftercare is cleaning each other up and then cuddling. Hector is the little spoon, without a doubt, but he also really likes to read to you afterward when you're all cuddled up in your warm blanket.

First time doing headcanons in years bro, I hope yall like this!!

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Behind the mask

Squid Game masterlist

Hwang In-ho/Front Man/Player 001 x fem!reader

If you want a soft and fluffy Front Man don't read this!

Cw/triggers: Dead dove do not eat, darkfic, violence, minor gaslighting, reader held captive and forced to watch her "friends" die, In-ho is a little sadistic, dacryphilia, intimidating!front man, minor description on how the players die, no actual description of the games, let your imagination run wild, reader obviously doesn't know who the Front Man is, not beta read, potential typos.

Summary: You've intriqued him. Too bad he had other plans for you.

A/n: I've purposefully made the two players reader is friends with blank numbers so you can choose for yourself which player is the friend and bit the bullet <3

You just returned after finishing the first game, which you managed to pass at the last second with the help of two other players, Player '___' and Player '___'. The three of you completed two more games together, you shared stories about eachother and how each of you ended up in the games. You quickly became friends, each of you telling the others what you wanted to do when you get out of here. You ended up agreeing to meet up after everything, sharing thoughts on how you imagined spending time together, agreeing on taking eachother out for drinks or simply having a good time.

Then came Player 001, who quickly integrated into the small group of now four. You always seemed to notice Player 001, how he silently stared at you all whenever you came up with something. But overall Player 001 was quiet when you gathered at the main hall, you just thought he simply is the way he is and did not question it.

All this changed when a few players orchestrated a raid against the guards. You were torn between wanting to take part and just not doing anything, but the temptation to take part was alluring, especially when it means getting out of this place.

You and the others foolishly decided to take part, but after slowly loosing more and more players, you retreated back to the main hall where the players were who didn't take part at the raid. Unfortunately you lost Player 001 which you heard getting shot through the radio.

The Guards knew you were somewhat involved in the raid and quickly captured you, dragging you away from the rest and your two friends. After that, the others still remaining heard shots and the announcement of your player number disqualified.

Unbeknowest to them all, you were introduced to the Front Man, who forced you to sit on his knee while he sat comfortably in the couch.

––

"No please!" The dried traces of your already spilled tears getting rewetted with fresh ones, you tried turning your head to the side but his fingers gripping your chin easily held you in place.

"Watch." His voice, even through the voice emitter sounded cold and emotionless.

The big screen infront of you showed one of the players you've became friends with at gun point by a triangle guard, begging for mercy. Their desperate voice broke your heart, even though you've only known them for a couple days.

You squeezed your eyes shut but the Front Man gave your chin a threatening grip.

"It's just a number. Keep your eyes open." He said nonchalantly, but you could hear the slight sadistic chuckle at the end of his sentence.

You sniffled as your opened your eyes again, but you were immediately met with the gut wrenching sight of your friend getting shot once...twice... and finally, ending their misery with a shot between the eyes.

Player '___' disqualified.

"Why me?!" You sniffled, hiccuping between words.

He leaned closer, so close that his mask was right next to your ear. "Because you intrique me." He said calmly.

You looked away from the screen, your gaze landing on the small table beside his couch where his gun lay next to his glass of Whiskey. Seeing the gun made you think if he's gonna kill you after he's done forcing you to watch the games. "Are-" you sniffled again, whimpering now "are you going to kill me?"

The Front Man tilted his head slightly, his other gloved hand coming up to wipe off a tear that's about to trail down your jaw. "Why would I kill you?" His voice was soft, as if he isn't the one who's the one responsible for all this slaughter. With his other hand he squeezed your chin again, forcing you to watch the screen once more.

You however tried to play fearless, despite obviously being very afraid. "You're a monster."

He chuckled darkly and you swore you could hear the sadistic smirk. "You don't know what a real monster is."

You winced as your eyes were burning from how much tears have already ran down and staining your cheeks, the Front Man's gloved fingers holding your chin were also stained but he couldn't care less about them, if anything, he found it quite appealing how your red, tired, and tear filled eyes made you look.

More and more players died, another one of your 'friends' catched a load of bullets... quite literally...

Player '___' disqualified.

Painfully hot tears streamed down your cheeks, you couldn't bear any of this cruelty any longer. "Why are you doing this to me?" You cried out more tears.

"Why do you care about them?" He countered coldly.

"I believe in them!"

"Believe?" He sneered. "How can you believe in something that's already lost?"

You refused to acknowledge his point, and instead tried wiggling out of his grip but his other hand firmly held you in place by the arm, tightening subtly with each wiggle.

The game you were watching just ended in time as you gave up struggling, the remaining players were sent back to the sleeping area.

None of the players you've became friends with survived. Your hope is destroyed. The Front Man knew he broke you, that's what he wanted after all.

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

[sillygoofyqueer]

the deity jester WWX au might not be your most popular au but know I am on the edge of my seat waiting for wangxian to finally meet <333

*Sniffle sniffle* that's right, I'm writing the deity jester Wei Wuxian AU solely for you now, you see it you care you are everything. HOWEVER, it's unfortunate to say that we still have like a post or two to get to wangxian meeting....so.....uh...DEITY JESTER WEI WUXIAN AU POST DEDICATED TO YOU!!! It's surprising that it hurts to tear himself free from the roots - whether it's due to being tethered to his body for the first time in some...time period, or it's due to ripping himself away from the nature he is so naturally drawn to - but it does. Every breath burns, his black blood seeps out of rips in his flesh and stains the already stained white sections of his clothes, and the bones beneath the meat of his body ache and grate together in a way that he didn't think was possible. He drags himself out from beneath the ground, allowing the sound of the small human wailing to guide him fully, dirt clinging to his hair and skin and stuck beneath his cracked nails, even dropping out of his mouth and nose when he angles his head down to see the state of himself. Small humans are weak and scared of everything, but the tiny humans had always liked him before they had been killed! He moves in the direction of the wailing, which hasn't stopped, and then almost immediately drops to the floor.

Ah. Human bodies are weak. It has surely been a while since he moved. Other humans always complained about aches and stiffness after not moving for a while, so Wei Ying can only assume that this sudden inability to move well is because of being trapped beneath a tree for some amount of time! However, the wailing is still echoing through the forested area he finds himself in, so he starts methodically dragging himself across the floor by his nails, letting all of his bones crack and shift into their proper positions until he can figure out how to walk again. The bells hanging from his outfit, that had once made such pretty tinkling and jingling noises, are now tinny and dull with metal mould (he didn't know metal rotted!) that flakes off as they're scraped across the floor. By the time the wailing is close by, he's sort of crawling instead of walking, his long hair (it's gotten longer! Humans are so complicated) catching beneath his knees and tangling with the leaves and sticks that litter the floor, so that is an improvement.

He still feels the weight of his mask upon his face, and that's surely good as well because tiny humans smile when they see others smiling, and Master always said it was the closest he could get to such an action. He peeks from around the tree he's found himself bumping around after bunching his hair into his hands to keep it out of the way, coming face to face with a tiny human huddled in the roots of the very same tree. This small creature has a splotchy red face and a tiny hand balled against one of its big brown eyes, hiccupping breaths escaping it instead of the normal small ones that should be leaving its lungs. It stares back at him, hair sticking to its cheeks from the water that sometimes leaks from humans' eyes. Wei Ying raises a hand, wiggling his fingers (yes, they are bleeding and skin is hanging off them) and letting the bells around his wrist jingle in hopes to gain a smile or any sort of reaction from this small human.

The small human continues to stare for a moment, and a strange uncomfortable feeling rises in Wei Ying's chest, a chance of his actions making the situation worse, but then a tiny hand wraps around one of his fingers and whispers 'owchie.' He doesn't get what it's trying to say until he looks at his other hand and notices all of the blood dripping down his palms from the tips of his fingers. Oh. That is an owchie. He nods his head slightly (a snap in his neck echoing through the forest as he does so), watching as the small human pulls his captive hand closer, pressing it against its knee, where he feels more wetness - red blood. It seems that the small human also has an owchie, which could be the source of its distress earlier. He nods once more, pressing his free hand into the ground and once again digs his fingers into the dirt that shifts easily beneath his touch, whispering into the nature that sings around him until a very faint, gentle tugging in his chest pairs with a plant sprouting up from the ground.

He picks the leaves from it and crushes them casually, letting his blood mix in with it for an extra healing factor before holding out the gunk in his hand for the small human. Said creature, who has been watching with interest, hiccupping breaths fading to the typical ones found within these animals, leans forwards and prods at the gunk a little. Only after careful examination does it offer up the injury upon its knee, allowing him to liberally smear the gunk over the minor wound so it can heal faster. Once again, the human just watches him do his thing while he works, until he sits back on his knees and stares right back at the human through his mask; despite how he hopes the creature would react, it looks...disgruntled. It still has a hold of one of his hands, and scoops off some of the gunk he has just applied to its injury to...smear it across his fingers?? Oh. Oh! It thinks that he has an owchie because of the blood and the skin hanging from his fingers. It's trying to help him!

Wei Ying gently extracts his hand from its very weak grasp to rub the gunk properly into his hands for the benefit of the small human, wiggling his fingers after he's finished to show that he's 'feeling a lot better'. Now, he doesn't actually feel better because he didn't feel bad in the first place, but he learned a while ago that tiny humans need exaggerated performances to be appeased when it comes to these things, so he really makes a show out of it. The small human, of course, is appeased by it, smiling up at him so widely that it must hurt even with the teary eyes it still possesses. "A-Yuan!!" The call echoes out through the forest, startling nearby small animals and sending birds flittering from the branches of the trees, as well as breaking the peace between the two of them. The tiny human looks up at the call, blinking as though recognising it before struggling to get to its feet, one hand already reaching out to grasp for Wei Ying's hand. All he can really do is let himself be dragged along by the small human as it wanders towards the sound, not wanting it to get further lost in the forest.

[hollowsart]

Starter Pokemon trio but they're all sloths.

Sloths are great swimmers, like really great (water)

Sloths grow moss/algae on their fur in the wild (grass)

Sloths can also have an explosive attitude (fire)

[moe-broey]

Another half-cooked ramble I just didn't put into words til Right Now though that's worth mentioning is like. I feel like Moe wouldn't fall into the Hayato/Ricken category of character, where they're small and heavily implied to be younger, and a good chunk of their character is trying to "prove otherwise" (aka "Don't treat me like a kid!" ect ect). I feel like Moe would fall closer into whatever category Takumi is. Not talking tsundere trope, but talking about what being the youngest (Takumi's case: 2nd youngest) sibling in a larger family does to a motherfucker. The adoration and aspiration and idolization combined with the inferiority complex and sometimes even resentment (depends on who we're talking about here) and feeling like you need to pull your weight More and Better. Acknowledging you've undeniably had it easier at the cost of your older siblings but somehow still feeling overlooked and left behind and forgotten. Or, in some cases, feeling like you got way more than you deserved, that even though you objectively got the "better" deal, it was still Unfair. Moe is just chronically the youngest of five. And don't even get me STARTED about [redacted] but let me just say The Absence of something is also A Presence. The Takumi comparison is extremely apt.

[shotmrmiller]

getting shot down by ghost without even asking him out or anything because he'd heard from one scottish bird that your type of guy was exactly like him and thinking back on it now, all the qualities you'd listed for your dream man do sound like as if you were describing him. yikes.

you don't take his rejection to heart, even though it does lightly sting but before you get a chance to explain that said scottish bird is an idiot and very mistaken in his assumption, ghost is telling you that it'd never work, you'd only get hurt and that you do take to heart because what does that mean, exactly? does he think you some dewy eyed farm girl looking for love? that you can't have casual sex with someone without eventually wanting for more?

"tha' ain't wha' i said. you'd get hurt, i mean look at ya." what about you? it's not like you'd let any of what happens behind closed doors affect your performance or anything, you and kyle always keep things professional while in the field.

also, is he aware that he doesn't have to have a reason to not want to sleep with you, or anyone else for that matter?

"you're small," he states, as if fact.

small? small where? your irritation dissipates, shoulders bleeding tension as genuine worry begins to set in. his vision might actually be going bad. could it be the black paint he wears under his mask? is it even safe to use on the face let alone near the eyes? did he read the instructions?

but then you realize he's looking at your legs, or specifically, what's between them and things click, and now you're wondering how someone so bloody brilliant could be this fucking stupid.

"while i appreciate your concern, lieutenant," you pointedly snap, "that's not even- i'd be just fine." he's a big guy, for sure. massive, if being honest. his neck alone is easily bigger than both your hands and you've caught him once or twice having to duck his head to enter the debriefing room but him being so endowed that it poses a threat to you is idiotic at best.

he hums, long and low in his throat, as he peers down at you through heavy lidded eyes, and raises his right shoulder in a shrug. "as you like," and that's the one and only warning you got.

simon had given you as much foreplay as needed, had lapped at your pussy until you forgot what day of the week it was, curled and scissored his fingers until his bedsheets were sodden and it still hadn't been enough. he'd only fit about a fourth of it in before he took pity on you and fucked your thighs instead until he got close, pushing his ruddy tip back into your aching cunt because "spillin' outside is a waste," and sent you on your merry way.

you're no quitter though and after some shopping online, your saving grace (dilators) will be here in a week.

(now to find soap and rip the rest of his hair right out his scalp for wagging his tongue.)

[ghouljams]

Big, scary guy and small, frilly dog is such a powerful combo. And you're completely right that Simon would be swimming in pussy. As a dog lover I would absolutely be kneeling down to greet a darling Cavalier, bombarding Simon with a million questions.

"What's her name?" "How long have you had her?" "Oh, she's so well behaved. Such a sweet girl." "She has such a nice coat, you must take good care of it." "Do you usually walk in this neighborhood? Maybe I'll see you two around!" "I swear I could just eat her up! If you're not careful I might steal her and bring her home with me."

Meanwhile, Simon is standing there looking as intimidating as ever as I fuss over his dog.

You see him walking around the neighborhood, stopping in the same shops in the evening, the same cafe at night. Always with a little copper Cavalier trotting beside him, little pink bows on her ears matching the thin pink leash that's hooked lazily around his wrist. Sometimes he has a shop bag in his other hand, sometimes not, but always the god walking beside him. Her little legs tip-tapping as fast as she can manage to keep up with his long strides.

And every evening when you pass him on your way home you stop to coo over the little dog. "Commander," he'd told you when you first stopped to scratch her tiny head. You figured it was one of those compromises that men often have with their girlfriends, "you can pick the dog but I get to name it." Choosing something that felt masculine to make up for the frou-frou dog. It didn't matter to you, it was easier to let your guard down around a man you assumed was already taken.

Crouch to scratch the dog's tiny chin, giving Ghost a nice view down your shirt. Never once thinking twice about bending over to pet her little head, or smiling at the big man in the skull printed mask.

"What a good girl you are," you coo at Commander, as she leans into your hand, "I could just eat you up, you're so sweet."

"You like sweets, pup?" Ghost rumbles, deep voice sliding thick down your spine.

"I bet you do," You squeeze her little face in your hand, "I bet daddy gets you pup cups when he goes to the cafe, doesn't he?"

"Wasn' talkin' t'the dog." You glance up at him, heat flashing over your face as you meet his eye. "Gonna keep callin' me daddy, pup, or d'you got somewhere t'be?"

[nerdygirlramblings]

baby trapping(?) the 141

inspired by this post from @beloveds-embrace

It was an open secret on base that the 141 were together together. You'd occasionally see one of them - usually Gaz, sometimes Price, often Soap, never Ghost - taking someone to their barracks after a night out. You'd watch them pick up men and women, soldiers and civvies, fit and plush, but never the same person twice.

Whoever was lucky enough to join one of the 141 for a night always looked well-fucked the next day. And every one of them was tight-lipped about what happened. They'd never even confirm if sex was had, despite how obvious it was.

You're out at the pub when the 141 come crashing through the door. You heard they'd gotten in this afternoon, back from a semi-succesful mission: no one injured, intel collected, bad guys still at large. You didn't expect them to be out tonight, had figured they'd be tired or stuck in debriefs for a while.

It's clear right away they're on the hunt. Soap sidles up to two women at the bar sipping something pink in a martini glass, arms draping quickly over their shoulders. Gaz laughs as he joins a few guys playing darts, smile a little too calculated.

You're surprised when Price and Ghost are sat on either side of you.

Price nods to the bartender, who puts down a pint of something dark in front of him and Ghost, gestures to you, and says, "Amaretto sour for her." You have no idea how he knows your favorite drink. You didn't think he even knew who you were. He glances at you from the corner of his eye and asks, "'avin a good time, doll?"

You really have no idea how to respond to that. You try, and fail, to make small talk without making a fool of yourself, but it's hard when Ghost keeps chuckling - at you, not with you. He's slipped his mask up only enough to sip his stout and you try not to stare at the small glimpses you get of his face.

A few drinks later, Price puts his large hand on your knee, and you feel the warmth penetrate your slacks. "Seen you on base, doll. Glad to find you here tonight." To say you're shocked is an understatement. "What say we head out, yeah?" He drops a few notes on the bar and gently steers you up and off your barstool. You feel Ghost stand up on your other side.

As Price herds you to the door, you notice Soap and Gaz have abandoned the people they were with and have fallen into step with your little group. They get you into their vehicle, snug in the backseat between Soap and Kyle while Price drives.

Soap leans his shoulder against yours and puts his mouth to your ear. "Lass, 'm sure glad we saw you. Been hopin' fur it fur weeks." You feel the blood rush to your cheeks. Gaz drapes his arm across the seatback, heat radiating across your neck, but he doesn't touch you. Instead, you see him run his fingers through Soap's mohawk, and you squeeze your thighs together a little. You never thought something like, well, whatever this looks like, would be something you would be part of.

You're back at their barracks faster than you thought possible. Getting past the door and through the common areas is a blur. Instead your brain stutters on the feel of Price's mouth on yours, his beard scraping against your cheek and neck as he kisses down your throat.

There are hands at your waist, unbuttoning your trousers and sliding them and your underwear down your legs. Another set of hands is tugging your shirt up over your head. Once you're naked you feel multiple sets of lips kiss and nip: teeth tug on your ear, a tongue laves against a nipple, stubble rubs along your inner thigh. Big hands, fingers rough with callouses and bluntly bitten nails, roam your body. And through it all the praises whispered "good girl" and "so sweet" and "made fer us" carry you into oblivion.

It never occurred to you the 141 were the Three Musketeers: anyone they brought back was one for all and all for one. You understand why those before you believed in "don't kiss and tell." You leave their barracks feeling shell-shocked. It carries you home and into work the next day, where you fully expect things to go back to normal.

And they do. Mostly. Until a vase shows up on your desk two days later with nothing but a bar of soap on the card. The blooms are your birth month flower. Two more days pass before you hear Price's voice in the hallway. You peek your head out as he turns your way, and his smile beams. "There you are, doll. Brought your favorite," he says, holding take away. And not only is it your favorite dish from your favorite cuisine, its from the little shop you like best in town.

You really know something's different when Friday rolls around. Gaz corners you as you leave medical, and before you realize what you've agreed to, you're following him into the 141's barracks.

This is unheard of. They never bring the same person back twice. You don't plan to question it, though, just ride it out as long as they're interested. Six weeks of wooing - you couldn't think of another word for the presents and flowers and meals and conversations and the sex, god the sex - fly past before Price breaks the news of their impending deployment.

They ask you to wait for them, to be part of them, when they get back. It's on the tip of your tongue to say yes. You want this, you want them, but you hesitate. They've always been the 141, and you're an outsider. You leave your response vague and hope they hear the desire in your tone.

A month into their deployment and you're struggling to sleep. You can't keep food down. You regret how open you left things. But it's more than that. An itch in the back of your brain drives you to ask a nurse friend on base to discretely check your hCG levels. The response is what you hoped feared.

You don't know how you'll face them if they ever return. You were worried about getting between them before, but this is ten times worse. You can't imagine how this will change how they are with each other. You're carrying someone's baby. It never occurs to you to do anything other than raise it yourself.

You make it on base another two months, and there's no word about the 141. But as you begin to show, rumors start dogging your steps. People knew you'd been involved with various members of the 141 before they'd deployed. Now they're whispering about whether you even know who the father is.

As a civilian employee, you're a contractor on base, so you simply ask your employer to find you a job in town. You want to leave entirely, but your heart won't let you take their baby far, at least not until you can determine whose it is and at least let them know.

You don't expect them to be part of the baby's life, but it isn't fair to disappear when you know word will make it around base and they have the means to find you anyway. You figure this will allow for a clean break before any fallout.

Months go by, and you hear from friends still on base that the 141 came back but haunted. They'd had a few close calls on this last mission: injuries that could have been prevented, stealth ops where they were the ones being ambushed. Things that shouldn't have happened. Things that made them think long and hard about what the future held for them.

Now that they're back, you expect someone to track you down, find your location in town, but no one comes. You vaguely notice the large home on the edge of town, the run-down one with a massive garden, slowly starts looking better.

Two weeks after your little girl is born, the knock you never thought would come finally does. You carry your bundle to the door and clutch her tighter when you see the 141 through the peep hole. You open the door and wordlessly let them in.

The expressions on their faces range from awe to fear. You're sure your face displays the same. Finally, it's Price who speaks. "We should-a been 'ere, doll. Can ya forgive us?"

You know you're gaping and can barely bring yourself to nod.

"We meant it," Ghost tells you. "We want you. And now we want you both." It's more words than you've heard him speak at once, and without prompting.

Soap looks at you with such unbridled longing, reaching out his hands not for you but for your - their - baby that you don't even think before passing her over. As he cradles her carefully, Price chimes back in. "We bought a place, big, on the edge 'o town. We're not retiring, but we want to do more than look one day ahead. And in all those days, there's you, you and this miracle."

Finally, Gaz pins you with a look. "Come be ours, dove. You've been what we were missin' before we even knew we were missin' anything."

This time your answer is anything but vague.

main masterlist

[cherry-hulu]

— NDA

Synopsis: Face planted in the sheets. Mingyu thrusting roughly behind you, constantly hitting that oh so sweet spot. Post concert depression who?

Warnings: Idol!KMG x Fem carat!reader, post concert sex, unprotected sex, underskirt, blow job, face, fucking, pet names (princess, baby, good girl), belly bulge, throat bulge, size kink, lmk if I missed anything

When a staff came up to you, pulling you to the corner and asking you about what you'd think about a special backstage meeting. You definitely did not thought that it would come to this. You didn't even expect to be invited. All you knew was that you and Mingyu have been meeting eyes all throughout the concert and that your tummy could definitely be mistaken for a butterfly conservatory with how wild it was in there.

And now it feels like your guts were being rearranged to accommodate Mingyu's size. Creating an indentation of his cock, carving his own— not so little— space within you.

It all happened so quickly. One moment he was pulling you aside and the second he was pushing you up against the door, body to body, skin to skin, having an aggressive make out session. Nothing about it was gentle. Eager masked by aggression motivated each movement done to each other.

You gasped as he kisses down your neck, down to your cleavage while sliding down the sleeves of your pretty blouse alongside your bra. With one hand, and lips attached to your skin, your mounds were exposed to him in no second. He'd done this a hundred times— more than enough to know that he doesn't have that much time.

So he rushes. Picking you up, your legs wrap around his waist in instict causing your clothed cunt to slightly rub on his abs causing both of you to moan.

Mingyu lays you down on the couch as he takes his shirt off before diving back into your chest. You moan as your hands touch all over him. Feeling his skin, his muscles, his biceps as he grinds on you. With your skirt lifted slightly up, his hard on slots perfectly between your clothed cunt causing both of you to moan during the kiss.

You palm him, holding his heavy cock in your hands before kneeling in front of him and pushing his pants and boxers down to reveal him. Standing proudly and sticking against his stomach, tip red and angry with sploches of pre-cum. With no hesitation you take him in, eyes keeping contact with his— just like how you were during the concert.

"Fuck. There you are again with those damn eyes." Mingyu mutters as he grabs the back of your head patting it down. "Such a good girl, getting on her knees for me without command. You really want me that bad huh? Enjoy me princess, not alot of people get this chance." As he watches you take his cock.

You do it slowly as to enjoy the moment and also because it would be impossible to take him in one go. And Mingyu was so obsessed with you. His hands wrapped around your throat feeling the bulge caused by him, small tears running down your eyes as you look up at him with doe eyes. "Fucking perfect."

Slowly you start to move, bobbing your head forwards and backwards. You had a slow pace, adjusting to his size careful on not going too hard incase you might choke. It didn't took long before Mingyu grabbed your head and started facefucking you instead.

Throwing his head back, your cunt throbbed even more, a visible and prominent wet patch on your panties as you saw him. The hand on your back, the weight of his cock in your mouth, his thrusting motions. It was all so hot.

He thinks the same as he looked back down at you, looking up at him with eyes big, mouth wide open stretched around his cock. "Shit baby you're so fucking hot." He mutters before pulling out. Cock immediately standing back up against his stomach. He was rock hard.

"Wan' more please.." You whimper straightening your posture as you look up at him more, pouting. "You'll get more princess don't worry, but right now I want nothing more than your pussy." He says as he lays you back down, bending your knees and lifting your skirt up slightly giving him a perfect view of your clothed cunt.

Due to the hot weather in South Korea, you opted to just wear panties out and decided to just be more careful with your movements. "What a slut, walking around with no safety shorts on? Jumping at my concert, while giving me those eyes? You were just waiting to be fucked weren't you?" Mingyu says as he pulls back the middle of your panties before letting it snap back and rubbing on the wet spot right after.

He lifts the panties off you immediately revealing your throbbing pretty pussy. "Pretty and pink, perfect princess." While rubbing your bud.

Coming near you, you spread your legs immediately accommodating his size. Mingyu slaps his fat cock on your pussy a couple of times, teasing the tip on your entrance before slowly pushing in.

It felt so surreal, he was stretching you so much. Immediately, your upper half lifted off the couch, mouth hanged wide open as he eases into you. His hand wraps around the whole circumference of your waist making him harder "So small baby."

Propping your legs on his shoulder after easing himself in. He started off slowly before gradually speeding up as be remembers the limited time. It didn't took long before the room was echoing with the sound of skin slapping and your load moans and whimpers that just gets Mingyu to fuck you harder each time.

"S.. S.. So.. B.. Big.. M.. M.. Min.. G.. Gyu," While he fucks you relentlessly. He rubs the bulge on your stomach as he chuckes lightly "Weren't you just talking relentlessly earlier? Where'd that go?"

He flips you around—penis still lodged in you—now face planted into the couch as he fucks and reached you deeper and harder. The furniture now moving inch by inch away from it's original position. His hand rests on your back, while his other hand lifts your skirt up and spanks your ass loving the way it turns red.

"I.. I'm cl.. close," You whimper. "Me too baby, me too." Mingyu responds as he fucks you harder than possible. A few more thrusts and you were creaming all over him creating a white ream in between your connection. One more hard thrust before he pulls out and cums all over your back, jacking off lightly to ride his high.

Resting his fat cock on atop of your but, he kisses your back lightly as he whispers you praises and affirmations. "Did so good baby, 'm so proud of you."

Mingyu turns your around and sees your fucked up state. Kissing your forehead, he spreads your legs around him once again startling you as your eyes open wide. He starts to go down your body as he looks up at you witha smug look on his face. "What? I'm just getting you your moneys worth."

[chaoticwriting]

Part 2

GOTHAM'S NEW ROGUE 3

-An hour before-

Danny is hatching a new plan today. Usually, he goes after the rogues who decide to make a spectacle or show for the public. But today, he will be the one to make it.

As all the devices are put together, Danny readies himself to turn on the screen. Lightly slapping his cheeks a few times Danny brace himself for his first solo stream.

*Live On*

Trickster: Well hello everyone! Isn't today unusually too peaceful. With all the rogues in Arkham and no one for me to bother, I decided to do the most out of my time.

Danny walks to a big hulking machine under wraps by a big piece of cloth. Danny pulls the cloth revealing a big machinery that has a giant clock in the middle.

Trickster: Over here I have my latest invention. I realized that people in this city really love coffee so what I do is make a machine that will spread gasses of caffeine into the air for people to consume via breathing. I even make sure that the special caffeine concoction wouldn't affect children because if I know one thing, it is that children with caffeine are scarier than any rogue.

Danny walks to the panel with a comically large red button with the word 'start' on it right under the clock.

Trickster: Now, when I click this button, it will turn on the timer, which is 30 minutes by the way, and when it runs out, the machine will release the caffeine into the air making everyone unable to sleep for one whole day. What is the effect on the city you may ask? I honestly don't know. But it will be funny if tomorrow everyone just drops dead asleep on the ground at work tomorrow.

Danny suddenly stops talking and slams the button heavily.

Trickster: Anyway, the timer starts now. Come find me if you wanna stop it.

Danny then leaves the screen and lets the camera focus on the clock as it ticks down. Danny sits on a nearby table and continues tinkering with his new special glitter bomb.

It's been 30 minutes when suddenly a window is broken and comes in Batman in all his glory. Except what Batman sees isn't the machine or even Trickster. It is a maze full of what he deems as traps laying around. Batman carefully trudges through the maze as he skillfully disarms the traps that are laid on the ground.

It takes Batman a whole 25 minutes to finally pass the maze before he finally sees the machine without Trickster anywhere in sight. He slowly and vigilantly approaches the machine and sees a small blue button with the word 'stop' right beside the red button.

If Batman had more time, he wouldn't have done anything rash but right now he doesn't have the time nor the ability to safely disarm the machine without making any mistake.

He pushes the button and the clock stops right then and there. He stares at his surrounding vigilantly expecting an ambush. And he is not wrong. There is indeed an ambush. Just not a normal ambush.

The machine that has stopped moving suddenly begins to shake heavily and Batman immediately jumps back to distance himself from whatever the machine is about to do.

Except when he lands, an ice forms under his legs trapping him and he tries to break the ice but the ice is very hard and impossible for him to break immediately at least. He is going to request for backups when the machine turns into tiny robots that start to surround him. He tries to smash all of them but not only are they strong and durable, EMP bombs also don't work on them.

After struggling for a while, some of the robots finally climb their way onto his head. One of them hangs from his mask and releases a gas from its mouth. Batman starts to lose consciousness and just as he is about to pass out Trickster appears in front of him.

Danny looks at Batman and orders his robots to tie him upside down, while rummages through his belt. Danny pulls out a lot of things from smoke bomb that accidentally explodes when Danny throws them to a bat shark repellent? What the hell? Anyway, after going through his belt for a while he finally found his target.

The Batwallet.

Danny turns to the hidden camera and starts to monologue.

Trickster: Hello hello everyone. Today, we have a very special guest. Presenting to you an unconscious Batman! And right here I have the strongest weapon in the world. The Batwallet! Hahahahaha.

Trickster: Now, you might be thinking. What is so strong about the wallet? And that my dear friend is the reason I am here today. Let's take a look at what's inside shall we.

Danny pulls out a black card with a bat symbol in the middle of it. Showing it to the camera, Danny gives out the biggest smile he can (somehow).

Trickster: This is the Bat credit card. I know. Sounds stupid. But you know what isn't stupid. The limit on this card. There is no limit. That means I can buy whatever I want with this.

Danny then pulls out a few polaroid pictures from the wallet that catches his attention.

Trickster: What's this? The bats secret identity? Boring. Why would I need to know who they are? Wait. This one is funny. Is this little Nightwing? Hahahaha. He's so little. *Gasp* Little Red Hood. Aww schmuck. I wanna share this with someone. I'm keeping this. I'm sure Batman has backup of these pictures.

Danny then phases the card and the photos into his body and picks up the camera.

Trickster: All right. That's it for today's stream. Oh yeah. We are in the warehouse south of the Bowery. I will shoot a flare after this for you to come get Batman. Well, you better come fast or other people will come for him.

After that the stream is cut off and a flare is shot from one of the warehouses in the Bowery. When the Bats arrived, all that was left was an unconscious Batman, tied up from the ceiling with his belt on the ground.

While the bats are busy extracting Batman back to the cave, Danny is having a feast at the Batburger. On his table, there are 50 sets of burgers, fries and cokes (the soda). Along with his food, he has pretty much paid all the food for everyone inside the Batburger. People were pretty on the fence when he first entered, but Gothamite being Gothamite, they readily accepted him when he paid for their food.

While Danny is busy eating, a big buff guy in a suit approaches him with his own food.

???: Good evening, Mr. Trickster. May I eat with you?

Part 4

[luvvcharxo]

FAVOURITE THING ABOUT YOU.

pairing ─ ⋆ mohawk mark, sinister mark, vitrumite mark, lensless mark, full masked mark x fem!reader.

warnings ─ ⋆ MDNI! smut, suggestive content.

summary ─ ⋆ what do the mark variants find the most attractive about you?

notes ─ ⋆ im changing up my post designs a bit, tell me if u like it! also ive never written for the variants before but i hope this is good!! thank u to the user who requested this. this is pretty short sorry

MOHAWK MARK.

─ one thing this freak loves is boobs. whether your boobs are big or small, he loves them. he loves burying his head between them after a long day, pressing kisses to them when the two of you are cuddling, and he especially loves seeing them bounce when the two of you are having sex. ─ when you wear lower-cut tops that show your cleavage, it turns mark on immediately, but he also gets really protective when he sees another guy eyeing you up. because what the fuck is that dude thinking? you're obviously his, and since that guy doesn't seem to understand, he'll teach him. mark just hopes you won't question why he turns up at your home covered in blood. oops.

SINISTER MARK.

─ if you're submissive and treat him like a god, that's what he wants. what do you expect from him? he doesn't want you to be one of those people that does whatever they want, are you crazy? you're his, and that means he owns you. you should be grateful that he's even kept you alive this long. mark could kill you faster than you could blink. why hasn't he yet? don't ask.

VILTRUMITE MARK.

─ his favourite thing is someone who's breedable (what? he needs to repopulate viltrum) and someone who's kind enough to teach him the ways of earth. also, he secretly likes it when you stand your ground and stand up for yourself. it turns him on, honestly, knowing that you're strong too, even if it's not in a physical way. ─ chubbiness is attractive for him, too. it makes you feel more breedable in a way (freak) and he likes it. mark loves picking you up.

LENSLESS MARK.

─ call him a masochist, but he LOVES if you're a bit bitchy and tough. if you degrade him in bed, even better! that man loves being dominated, so if you enjoy doing it, he'll never leave. never. ─ mark loves when you put him in his place. knowing that he's way stronger than you and could easily kill you, yet you're the one seemingingly in charge, it just turns him on. ─ appearance-wise, he loves muscles. if you're strong (for a human, at least) it gives him a boner. back muscles are hot as fuck for him, too. he loves seeing them ripple when he hits it from the back.

FULL MASKED MARK.

─ he just wants someone to hug, to cuddle. someone he can talk to and who will talk to him. he's not picky, mark just wants someone to love him for him and will show him undying affection, no matter what happens. ─ if you're soft, sweet, and caring, he loves you even more. he'll visit you after a rough day and find refuge in your lap, enjoying the sensation of your nails in his hair, and he'll talk. about everything. afterwards, he feels guilty about ranting too much, but you reassure him that it's fine, that you like listening to him.

notes ─ ⋆ ahhh i hope this was okay. i kinda alternated a bit from the request but yeah. also if u guys cant tell i LOVE mohawk mark, that freak is mine 👅👅 i wanted to include omni-mark bc hes so fine but i dont understand his character enough :(

taglist ─ ⋆ ask to join!

⋆ MASTERLIST

[sivyera]

TWILIGHT characters as love tropes

ft. carlise, esme, emmet, rosalie, edward, jasper, alice, jacob, seth, leah, paul, charlie, bella

a/n: with songs to each character

༻♛༺

⤷ Carlisle Cullen - rich love

Carlisle is a very rich man which means he will spoil you a lot. Not only with expensive gifts but also with a lot of attention and affection.

Every time when he gets home from work, he welcomes you with a kiss and warm hug.

When he has a day off, he will cook with you (even tho he cannot eat it, it's just about the time he can spend with you) or you will lay on his lap with his hand stroking your hair and book in his other hand, reading to you.

Every Friday he will take you to a fancy restaurant and than for a slow walk around the nearest park.

On your birthday or on International Women's Day (or any other 'special' day) he will spoil you even more than on normal days. Expensive jewelry, perfumes, clothes, shoes,...

He will bring you flowers at least once every two weeks. And every July he will take you on vacation and you can choose where.

Lolita - Lana Del Rey

⤷ Esme Cullen - falling in love fast

Esme is such a kind soul so it's no surprise that you two fell in love with each other fast.

She will take you on a date every Saturday. Mostly coffee dates are her favourite. The two of you can talk for hours while drinking delicious coffee.

She will also enjoy baking with you (even tho she cannot eat/taste them)

She has many polaroids with you on them or with the both of you on them and has them hang in her closet or the small table beside her bed.

She loves when you paint her nails and massage her legs and she will always return the favor.

She loves sunny days but because she's a vampire and her skin sparkle on the sun, she cannot go out where people can see her, BUT she can go somewhere private like meadow or forest where you two can be alone and on the sun!

Sofia - Clairo

⤷ Emmett Cullen - he fell first and harder

Emmett was absolutely over the moon when you two started dating, because he knew from the start that you two are just meant to be.

He loves, loves, LOVES when you sit on his lap. He doesn't care if you are stroking his hair or doing make-up on him, he just want you in his lap, so he can embrace you with his big arms and muscular body.

He'll dance goofily around the bedroom with you to some catchy hip-hop songs he has found.

He loves cuddling with you especially when he can be the big spoon, because he likes how tiny you're compared to him.

Matching pyjamas and make polaroids in those pyjamas, which happens to be one of his favourite memory and polaroids.

He doesn't really like reading books but he always wants you to read to him, because he loves your voice.

She's Kinda Hot - 5 Seconds of Summer

⤷ Rosalie Cullen/Hale - you fell first but she fell harder

Rosalie has trust issues and trauma because of her past so she wouldn't fall in love easily nor fast, but trust me when she does fall in love; she loves hard.

She loves having spa day with you which includes face masks, painting nails, shared warm bath and much more.

She will take you to the mail shopping almost every day and will buy you everything you look at.

She doesn't like much PDA but she will hold your hand in public but if she gets jealous, she will show the person she's jealous off who you belong to.

She doesn't show it to others just you, but she loves cuddles. She loves when you lay next to her, face to face so she can see your beautiful face.

She's also very protective over you, so if any guy or a girl makes you feel uncomfortable (or unsafe), tell her and she will make sure they won't approach you ever again.

Prey - The Neighbourhood

⤷ Edward Cullen - first and only love

Edward waited so many years for you, but it was worth it because he finally got you.

He loves when you kiss his forehead even tho he has to lean down because of your height difference, it makes him feel safe. Still his favourite place to kiss you is on your lips.

Edward will write poets for you and about you on small piece of paper and then put them somewhere in your room where you will notice them like your closet or on your book, laptop, notebook, pillow,...and he will bring you your favorite flowers right after the previous ones he gave you have withered.

He will also write songs about you (or for you) and then play them to you on the piano. Which he absolutely loves because you sit right next to him and look at him with those beautiful eyes of yours full of love. Edward cannot read your mind but he can sure read your eyes, the small spark and the love in them when you look at him, he just loves it!

Loves cuddling with you, his favourite position is when you lay on his chest or when he's the big spoon, face to face or hugging you from behind.

He loves having deep talks with you and he'll tell you about his childhood or about the time he was born in.

Follow You - Imagine Dragons

⤷ Jasper Cullen/Hale - unconditional love

Jasper can be sometimes insecure just as much as Edward, they even have similar reasons... Jasper is afraid of him hurting you, he's afraid that he won't be able to control himself around you, but your words of affirmation and gently touch will calm him down.

Jasper doesn't talk much, he rather listens and he loves listens to you. It doesn't matter what you are talking about, he just loves your voice.

He will take you for a horse ride because he loved it back when he was a human and because he was a cowboy, but you two will have to share the horse because he wants your arms around him.

At first he was a bit scared of cuddling with you (again because of his control) but soon as your hand went to his hair, he melted. Both of you realized how touch starved he's so now cuddling is an everyday thing.

Jasper is a gentleman like Edward or Carlisle so he will also bring you flowers every even week.

He'll read to you to make you fall asleep, because his smooth voice is like a lullaby to you. But if Jasper feels that you are anxious, he will calm you down with his gift and than talk to you what made you anxious, eventually he will cuddle you.

R U Mine? - Artic Monkeys

⤷ Alice Cullen - any universe

Alice (because of her gift) always knew you were the one, her one and only true love. So when she first saw you, she couldn't help but babbling to her adoptive siblings all day how amazing you are and how she's already in love with you.

She'll go to the mail with you and make small fashion show with you in the cabins with all the cute outfits she found for you and you for her.

She's mostly the small spoon (sometimes she is the big spoon but depends on the situation) while cuddling because she loves when you hold her in your arms and stroke her back.

Outside, in front of other people, she will always hold your whole arm, not just palm.

If you have trouble falling asleep, she will gladly sing to you while stroking your hair.

She'll buy matching clothes, jewerly or nail polish, because she loves when you two match your outfits or other accesories.

i wanna be your girlfriend - girl in red

⤷ Jacob Black - whatever it takes

Jacob is willing to do anything and everything for you, his imprint. He will kill for you, he will die for you, he will do just everything.

Jacob can be sometimes insecure because he isn't that rich like the Cullens and he thinks you deserve someone who will treat you like a queen, so once again he's willing to prove you that he's worthy of your love.

He'll make you a small wolf and your favourite flower out of wood and attached it into a bracelet, which he will eventually give you to your birthday.

He's also a big cuddle bug, because he's so warm will make you comfortable enough to fall asleep. He's most of the time the big spoon because he feels like he's protecting you but he doesn't mind to be the little spoon. Cuddling also leaves his scent on you so every vampire or shape-shifter (wolf) can smell who you belong to.

He'll take you on motorcycle rides. Also he will drop you at your school on his motorcycle and then he will pick you up. Also he'll let you ride on his back while he's in his wolf form.

Jacob doesn't like fancy restaurants, he prefers his or your bed with some snacks and movies, cuddling of course!

Galway Girl - Ed Sheeran

⤷  Seth Clearwater - love at first sight

Seth hoped that he will met his imprint someday and he heard from the others how amazing the feeling is to imprint on someone, but no one really prepared him to him because when he first saw you, your beauty hit him like a brick. And he finally understood the feeling because all he could see was you...

Seth will make sure you are always in a good mood with him, either he could tell you some stupid joke or cheesy pick-up line.

He maybe look like a cute baby but don't let his cute face fool you because he won't hesitate to kill for you, so it makes him really protective over you.

In his wolf form he's like a big puppy but only to you and he loves giving you piggy back rides in his wolf form.

Cuddling really depends on his mood; if he's in good mood he will be the little spoon with his head placed on your lap; if he's in a bad mood (mostly when he's jealous) he'll be the big spoon to show others that he can protect you.

He loves baking with you but he's clueless so he will just stand there and watch you or mix some ingredients, often sneaks up a kiss on the cheek while baking.

Dandelions - Ruth B.

⤷  Leah Clearwater - enemies to lovers

At first Leah hated the fact that she actually had a imprint, so she would try to stay away from you as much as possible and when she couldn't; she would have some nasty comments towards you, but it hurt her as hell when she saw how sad she made you or worst insecure.

She tried hard to stay away from you but she failed, miserably. She needed you, she needed to be with you, so she will explain everything to you same as she would apologize for her acting.

Very protective of you, anyone could just try and test her patience.

At first she wouldn't want you to be near her while she was in her wolf form because she was much bigger and stronger so she was afraid that she could hurt you, but she became a sucker for scratches behind her ear.

Seth will often tease his big sister because she's really soft when it comes to you, which makes Leah give Seth few playful slaps.

When it comes to cuddling, Leah is the big spoon because she has the urge to protect you and being the big spoon makes her feel like she's protecting you in you sleep.

Running With The Wolves - AURORA

⤷  Paul Lahote - rough love

With the term 'rough love' i mean that Paul is passionate lover and is willing to do anything for his imprint, you.

Paul isn't very patient when it comes to people but you are an exception. Still he's aggressive when someone push his buttons but you are always here to drag him away and calm him down.

Just a single touch and Paul's full attention is on you. Which brings me to the fact that he turns into a puppy when you touch him, your touch is just to comforting.

He's the big spoon because he feels like he protects you and it makes his scent stay on you.

He can get jealous very easily, he trusts you but he doesn't trusts the others and he doesn't want any boys or girls too close to his imprint.

Loves everything you cook or bake and will always eat everything.

Overprotective, if any vampire even dare to touch you, he'll kill him.

Little Freak - Harry Styles

⤷ Charlie Swan - old love

Charlie is old school but still a huge gentleman.

He will bring you flowers every time you had a bad day and some chocolates when you had a good day to make it even better.

He loves watching old movies or crime/detective movies with you, with his arm around your shoulder.

When he has day off, you two will go on a picnic date which always ends up with you laying on his chest while he's telling you some stories from work.

Every time you bring him a lunch into his police office, he will welcome you with a warm, thankful smile and thank you with a kiss on your cheek.

He will protect you even more than before, when he finds out that there are vampires and werewolfs (shape-shifters).

Burning Love - Elvis Presley

⤷  Bella Swan - teenage love

Bella will be awkward and nervous when she first spoke to you, because you were just too beautiful to be real. But to her surprise she made you fall in love with her which made her so, so happy.

First attempts of trying to cuddle with her or just show her simple romantic affection were awkward because she was just to nervous, eventually she will warm up and feel more comfortable.

She find our that you touch calms her anxiety and nervousness so whenever she's nervous or anxious she will just hold your hand and squeeze it gently.

Charlie was very happy that his daughter found someone like you, which made Bella even more happy when she saw how you, the love of her life and her father get along.

Often having sleepovers at her house when Charlie has night shifts, which always leads to matching face masks and cuddles.

Kisses on the cheek are her favourite, because she can easily turn and give you small peck on your cheek and visa versa.

Electric Love - BØRNS 

[rawme-price]

Look, I love every version of big scary animal hybrid simon as the next person, but have we considered sheep hyrbid!simon?

Sheep!simon who is used to people assuming things about him. He's big, a cathedral of a person, so people assume hes got hybrid genes to match. He's heard plenty of guesses, wolf, panther, tiger, bear. He never confirms anything, never denies it either. Its helpful for people to be unaware of his true status, a harsh stigma around prey hybrids and especially domestic ones.

Sheep!simon who hasn't made a hybrid sound in years. Who keeps his hair shorn to the root because if it grows out its into tight coils of blonde that remind him too much of his mother. His mother who he watched suffer each day for being a sheep, and thats the only trait she gave him. He got his eyes, his bulk, his face from his father. But the one thing from his mother? It feels too shameful, too weak to ever accept. It eats at him, but there's nothing he can do.

Sheep!simon who eats alone. He wears a mask anyways, so no one bothers him to eat with them. He finds some secluded nook, and makes quick work of a plate stacked with greens. On the grueling missions, packed too close with others to grab food without someone seeing his plate, simon forces himself to grab meats and a sliver of greens. The vague diet of a predator species. He eats everything, feels too guilty about wasting food not to, and simply ignores the painful twists of his stomach at eating stuff hes really not suited for.

Sheep!simon who feels anxious when hes not in a group, but feels even worse being near people he doesn't trust (everyone). He never truly rests, never relaxes completely as his mind fights with itself. Its exhausting, but hes felt this way since he was small, and has grown apathetic to it.

Just....consider it. (Yapping abt the specific sheep he'd be under the cut.)

Personally I envisioned him to be a kerry hill sheep!

Mostly bc the face markings remind me of his mask lol, but also bc they dont have horns! There's a unique dynamic that comes from ghost being a sheep hybrid that doesn't even have horns to defend himself that I find really compelling....they're also raised primarily for meat, which is another great metaphor or whatever abt ghost being made for the military, designed for slaughter when hes no longer useful....

[teddybeartoji]

zombie apocalypse au where you end up in a settlement and meet a cutiepie satoru. he's lived almost his entire life there – sure, he goes on runs every once in a while but you've been out there. it's different.

right?

the dark bags under your eyes have yet to fade but satoru has never heard you complain. he knows everybody gets a talk when they first come to this place; where they can get help, who they can talk to when if they have any problems. if you can't sleep. or eat. or if you still feel restless. it's understandable that the change from having to fight for your life on a daily basis to not even having to carry a gun with you is hard.

the food tastes weird when you're not starving and drinking water seems like a complete waste when you're not dying of thirst. the bed you sleep on is too soft, the sheets feel like silk and it makes your skin itch. it's off-putting.

and yet, not a single complaint has left your lips. you observe your surroundings while handing out pretty little smiles like they're candy. you say thank you and goodbye, you offer to help out with the chores that weren't even yours to begin with and you're willing to entertain the kids with silly jokes. it's an almost perfect mask.

but you're tense; your eyes are always scanning your environment despite the fact that you've been at the settlement for almost a week now. you stretch your lips to show your gratitude, but satoru sees the way your fist tightens whenever the room is too crowded. the way you pocket smaller snacks when you think that nobody is looking. the way you flinch at a faraway sound of a child's laugh.

satoru finds you utterly intriguing.

people come and go, but you... there's something different about you.

maybe it's the dark, murky look in your eyes whenever you're handling a knife. carving a piece of meat like it's something you do every day; your eyes are the only things that change – you give a small smile to the lady working next to you as a thank you for whatever kind of advice she just gave you. she pats the steak while laughing and satoru doesn't miss the way your lips twitch.

you lick the remnants of the meat that stick to your fingers, the liquid that dribbles down the side of your hand the second she turns around. and satoru can't look away.

but there's no obvious malice.

it's interesting.

satoru is no detective, but he's done his fair share of people looking. what else is there to do when you're locked behind big walls; people are interesting, especially now that the world has ended. they tick faster, they explode bigger. they shiver more, they cry more. the lies have more consequences. it's hard to trust others, it's hard to trust anybody at this point. but satoru's eyes are keen, more so than anyone else's there.

you're not some caged beast, you're no dog on a leash, but you're an animal nonetheless. satoru just doesn't know which one yet. which of the living things that reside in the woods is calm enough to get so close to other people? confident enough. arrogant enough.

which one of them is as curious as you are? as sly? which one of them knows how to hide their sharp teeth behind a warm smile? satoru promises to himself that he'll figure it out, no matter what it takes.

or maybe the 'something' is the way you handle yourself when things go south. you didn't look away when a walker that managed to slip in through the gates sank his teeth into a man's neck. when everybody else was in shock, their eyes set on the gory sight in front of them – you were the first to grab the closest thing resembling a weapon and to deal with it.

blood splattered all over your clean clothes, your hair, your face. but you paid it no mind. this is what you're used to, this is what's normal. taking a knife to the poor wailing man laying on the ground was nothing special either. you kneeled down beside him and looked him in the eyes as you did it.

desperate hands reached out for you as fear settled in his stomach. he grabbed onto the collar of your shirt and pulled you closer, pleas stumbling from his lips like a waterfall. but to you, he was dead already. there's no remorse, there's no guilt. you're not a killer, you're a survivor.

satoru's mind raced as he watched you work while all the other had turned away, their sobs barely reaching his ears. no remorse, no guilt.

he just thought the blood looked beautiful on you.

but you're keen, too.

you try not to pay him too much attention, you try not to look but you feel his curious eyes wherever you go. you hear him laugh and you see his big smiles. he likes to play with the kids and he likes to tease his peers. he seems to know just about everybody, mingling in their lives by acting like a cupid or just indulging in gossip like some high schooler.

but something rotten sprouts deep inside him as well.

there's blood on his hands and you know it the second your gazes meet from across the big dining hall. the corners of his eyes crinkle and his dimples make a show as he gives you a grin, sharp teeth shining right at you. he knows you and you know him.

a survivor always recognizes a survivor.

[hurtspideyparker]

"What's up small fry?" Tony asks when he catches a blur of red and blue in the corner of his eye.

He continues unscrewing pieces from inside the old car engine at random, deconstructing the machine. Tony looks up at Peter when he gets no reply.

"Pete?"

Peter's hand slips from the door frame, trudging over to Tony across the workshop.

The sun must have gone down without Tony noticing, the only light in the room coming from a few scattered table lamps. Explains all the squinting he's been needing to do anyways. Peter doesn't have his mask on, but his face is too shadowed to read.

"How was patrol? I think someone made dinner, we can heat it up together. Or there's that mac and cheese you like—"

Peter comes closer and doesn't stop until he's crashing into Tony in an all-encompassing embrace. His arms constrict around Tony's waist, face squashed into the older's chest.

"Oh."

Tony looks down at the tuft of gelled curls, a warm sigh leaving Peter's mouth as his body melts into Tony.

Tony's arms jerk to catch the boy, scared he'll simply wash away, but Peter only relaxes further into the hug. Peter secures his grip with an unwavering hold despite the tension that drains from him in a steady stream.

When the hug sustains Tony pulls him closer, tucking his chin over Peter's head and breathing out his own restlessness. One arm rubs up and down Peter's back, thumb drawing a strong pressure into the firm muscle.

They stay like this; Tony's eyes close at some point, their breathing syncing into even exchanges like heart beats. He isn't sure if he should be worried or confused, but all thoughts flit out of his brain at the genuine expression of affection being laid upon him.

It's Peter who lets go first, death grip sliding away until Tony becomes aware enough to unwrap his own self as well.

"Sorry, I just really needed that," the boy mutters.

"Um. No problem."

Peter steps away, and Tony gives him a look up and down. He doesn't seem injured, but a weariness clings to his bones like laundry scent on fresh sheets.

"M'hungry. Can you make the mac n' cheese?"

Normally Tony would refuse, mostly out of the habit of saying 'no' whenever someone asks something of him before he even actually considers it, but Peter's eyes are big and earnest, and he quite possibly has turned Tony into a giant teddy bear with the way he's been appeased and clung to.

"Sure thing. Why don't you go get changed and I'll meet you in the kitchen?"

Tony is plating up the steaming, alarmingly orange food with a side of the lamb chop someone cooked earlier and a peeled clementine when Peter wanders into the room. He's in his signature hello kitty pajama pants and a striped sweater Tony is sure is his girlfriend Michelle's.

He looks a bit better now, simply sleepy instead of dead on his feet, the attempt of usual pep in his step as he comes and lays his head down in his arms on the kitchen table.

Tony places the food in front of him, Peter immediately shoving a spoonful of the pasta into his mouth without picking his head up.

"Fank 'ou."

Tony lets a humorous puff of air out of his nostrils.

"You're welcome, now don't talk with your mouth full," he says while ruffling the boys hair.

He swallows, "your hand smells like oranges."

Tony pilfers a piece of fruit from Peter's plate, taking a seat across from the boy and shooting a brief raise of his eyebrows his way.

"I wonder why."

Peter smiles at him.

He smiles back.

[prael]

Touch

Kinktember Day 9: Spa

Newjeans Danielle x male reader smut

words: 7,422 Kinktember Masterlist

"My client, did you see her come in?" you ask.

"No, why? Is she famous or something?"

"Well, that would explain the secrecy, and it would also explain a woman barely twenty having cash to burn at a place like this," you whisper to the colleague who is far too jealous of how you just got requested by name because that usually means big tips for a good service.

"Did you get her name?"

"Supposed to be a secret." Your answer dissatisfies her, and she throws you a side-eye. "Okay. Okay. Danielle something... Marsh?"

"Shut up!" She hits you on the shoulder. "No fucking way. Let me take this one and you can have my next ten VIP bookings."

"Sorry, but she asked for me by name," you tell her. She mutters an obscenity under her breath. "Want to tell me what I'm getting into here?"

And then the girl spews out a jumble of ramblings about K-pop this and K-pop that—the kind of reaction that only the truly obsessed can have. Millions of views on this, charting on that, really fucking popular is the gist of it. So basically the whole planet Earth knows who this Danielle is. Well, shit. No pressure or anything. "Get in there already, do your best work and maybe get me an autograph."

A few forceful pushes out of the staff room and you find Danielle where you left her, her cleansing mask still on her face, sitting in that long white robe. You step barefoot over the soft wood, heat rising from underneath it.

As you draw near, you ask, "Miss Marsh, are we ready to begin?"

"Dani, please," her voice says from beneath the mask. It's hard not to be intimated after being hit with the fact that the woman before you is world-renowned. Though from here, she looks like any other delicate young woman. Her feet are small. Bare, tiny and arched, they hang just a few inches from the floor, and they are as perfectly still as the rest of her. "No need to be formal, I'm here to relax."

"Then let me start by offering you a drink." The bottle pops as you twist it. The label is adorned in cursive. "Bottled at source, premium mineral water." Your arm raises the bottle so she can see the brand clearly.

"Is it magical water?" There is a playful lilt in her voice, "Maybe it has some healing powers?"

"Guaranteed to nourish the soul and unclog those emotional pores," you deadpan.

The facemask stretches with Dani's wide smile, and she lightly chuckles. "That's good, laughter is good for the soul."

"Right." You pour from a height and a theatrical stream flows. When the flute is halfway, you stop the flow and pass it to her hands, which take it gently.

"What? You don't even hold the glass for me? Put it to my lips and tilt?" It's another tease, the joke stretching on her grin, but now it is her hands holding the flute, her fingers long and smooth around the stem.

"I serve, not control."

"Those don't have to always be exclusive." She laughs, and the sound makes you feel something. "But I appreciate the intention. I hear you're the best in the business."

"I'll let you be the judge, Miss Marsh. Now, allow me to remove that mask. I have raised the temperature in here to help open the pores, and I would like to begin with a facial."

"I do love a facial." Danielle smiles to herself. "And again, please, just Dani is fine."

You step over behind her, where her head tilts back against the chair, her long hair cascading below, shimmering in the moist air. Lightly, you place the tips of your fingers along her jawline, finding the edge of the mask and gently lifting it upwards. She doesn't flinch at all, and you watch the wet mask give way to her face. Even upside down, Danielle is indeed beautiful.

With her sun-kissed hair, radiant skin, and effortless, elegant beauty. She is, in summation of all her parts: perfect. The image the word calls up has always been fuzzy around the edges, an abstract idea more than a specific concrete thing, because real people aren't like this. That's what you believed until you laid eyes on her.

"You take good care of your skin, Miss—Sorry—Dani."

"Thank you," she says simply, no joke this time. Your fingers ghost over her chin and then trace to her cheekbones, moving lightly to test her texture, all so smooth.

"First, I shall cleanse away any impurities," you say and lean down to examine her face. Even when you are so close, there is nothing for your scrutiny—no visible crevice, no blemishes, despite there being not a trace of make-up. It's all-natural.

There's a light whisper on her lips, one that you barely make out, "Good luck with that."

You tilt your head as you reach over for a fresh sponge, run it under hot water until it is filled, squeeze out the excess, and slowly drag a path of heat across her forehead. As your other hand holds the sheet over her neck to catch stray water, your first-hand works in large strokes from above, rinsing her skin with each successive pass.

As you focus, she leans back into the chair, and a soft hum escapes her lips. "Feels nice already," she murmurs.

You say nothing, working her in silence. Her eyelids are closed, her lips slightly parted, and she remains so still that, if not for the sound of her breaths, she could be easily mistaken as unconscious. This silence has a tranquillity and familiarity to it, one that feels like home, and without thinking, you are smiling.

She stays just the same as you begin to exfoliate her, brushing across her face in ever-widening circles. It's with such tenderness that her cheeks take a pink tint as she grows hotter and she smiles as you rub in gentle swirls, one spot, then the next.

Time passes in silence as you finish the exfoliation and apply all manner of natural, topical lotions, toners, and peels to Dani. When her skin is primed, you press your fingers against her skin and, starting at her forehead, you massage her face to a rhythm of long, soothing strokes. You enjoy touching her, you admit, which isn't exactly right for a professional, but since you have no outward reaction from her, you assume it isn't the end of the world.

Throughout it all, she keeps her eyes shut. Over time you move around her face, applying more pressure in some spots than others. She shifts and sighs, soft exhalations of her warm breath tickling your arm, yet otherwise doesn't move an inch. Her shoulders relax against the leather of the seat. "You really know what you're doing," she says, with a smirk. You pull her skin with your fingertips, moving them in large circles as it comes to an end. Finally, you tap your fingers gently over her skin to soothe.

"Now, your body, Dani."

Her eyes crack open, but slowly. "Are we moving?"

"I'll wash your skin over there, but the massage will be in the next room. Now, I'll need you to—"

Dani doesn't let you finish your sentence before she rocks forward in her seat and pushes herself to a stand. She's facing away from you and puts her hands in front of her, then she throws the robe back off her shoulders and lets it slide off her arms to the floor in one quick motion.

"Good," she says. "I was for too hot in that thing anyway."

Of course, as a professional, you would never gasp in surprise, yet, at the sight of her ass, the muscles tight, small, and round, the curves of her waist so thin, hair over her shoulders threatening to hide her slender back and those long slim legs, you manage to just barely gulp.

Too hot, she certainly is, you want to tell her and not just in the sense that perspiration coats her skin. Tiny beads of sweat that, as your eyes crawl over her, are in the process of running downwards. This glistening on her flesh is hypnotic. The curve of her ass, the slight tilt of her hips forward, the way the base of her spine leads downward, right down to a crack between her—

Focus. You remind yourself you have a job to do.

"In the far corner. The stone pool. Please, stand by the edge." It takes a second before Dani's head bobs, and then she slinks forward, slow and catlike. Her stride, and every motion of her muscles beneath her flesh that accompanies it, are mesmerising. And with every sway of her hips, you love her tight body more.

She pauses, a foot by the edge, and looks down into the water. Steam rises and envelops her form in a pale white that hugs her curves.

"Please, step in," you say as you walk over to her side and take her hand. Now, you catch a glimpse of her profile, and her chest, small, round and perky, and as you avert your eyes to guide her down the step, you tell her, "Watch your step now, go from stone to stone until you stand in the middle just there."

"Got it," Dani says. She steps with confidence and the hot water reaches quickly above her ankles and then halfway up her calves. With each careful move down the next step she gasps, soft and light. The water splashes with her movement and then swallows her up to the upper thigh.

"Please, take a seat there, on the wide stone." You reach to help steady her as she sinks down, her knees bending as she perches down so the water is at her hips as she sits.

"I just sit?"

"Yes, Dani, and I will bathe you." You step into the pool until the hot flowing water covers your knees, and then you stand behind her. You reach for a sponge, submerge it, and watch it fill, then draw it out and over her lower back and drag a large circle across her soft skin. "How's the water? Feel okay?"

"Great. Wow." She goes quiet as you work up and down her back, long, relaxing, soothing strokes until all the tension has left her shoulders. "That's wonderful," she says.

You clean her shoulders and then down her arms, the sponge dipping under the surface, and caressing her in a movement that feels like worship. With a slow rhythm, you run the sponge over her shoulders and around her neck, and finally, reaching over her, down to her chest. She shifts back as you do, resting herself against your legs. You run it over her chest a few times before coming up again to her shoulders.

"So soft..." her voice says, almost a breathy moan, and you catch a hint of it. Maybe she realises how it sounds because she soon goes quiet. Next, you work downwards, to her tight, toned stomach. Slowly you make sure you cleanse every part of her body. All while her back rests on you and her breathing is warm and pleasant.

"Miss, I mean Dani, can you stand now? We need to get you clean." You prompt, a hand on her shoulder.

"Sure." Dani snaps out of it. She stretches and cracks her neck before rising, leaning forward for a moment. When she rises, ripples run out in all directions and your eyes drift over her ass. It looks plump, perky, perfect. Then you sponge it, giving purpose to your stare. You push it down, over her cheeks and Dani shivers.

You repeat your slow, languid movements. Wipe away any trace of imperfection from her hips and thighs and then when you make her slowly step out of the pool, you work down her bit by bit. Finally, she stands on the edge of the pool, looking down at you, towering over you in her naked glory. She presents to you her foot and you hold her ankle to steady it and clean each digit, scrubbing between the toes.

"You can take the towel, on the peg, Dani."

"You do it." Dani doesn't move at all, keeping her eyes on you, staring into your eyes and through you.

You cautiously nod and then climb from the pool. You keep eye contact and wrap the towel around her small, wet frame. In your arms, she feels so fragile. You rub her down, first her legs. Long strokes, left and right. Each, in turn, both legs. Then you bring the towel up. When you wrap it over her hip and move upwards along her torso, Dani presses herself to you.

"You really know how to put someone at ease," she mutters.

You nod silently in return, and finish drying her shoulders, down her arms, back up, and down her back. You remain stoic as the heat between you builds, and she turns around without prompting. You wrap her again and bring the towel all the way down. Then over her rear. Soft, short circular motions with your palm.

"The table in the next room, Dani. Start by lying on your front, you can use the towel on the table to cover yourself. Once I see you settled in, I'll join you."

She laughs quietly and starts her slow walk to the door. You take your own towel, drying your legs, the water has soaked into the front of your shorts from where she leant against you.

She's on the bed. The towel, provided for her decency, is in a pile on the floor.

"Dani, the towel..."

"I'm fine, I want it off. I want everything off. Is that a problem for you?" There's this undeniably confident quality to her like the universe just has to be as it is because she likes it that way.

"Not a problem," you tell her. "It does tend to get in the way."

You're close to the bed now, looking down at her, still so perfectly nude. So vulnerable and relaxed, and not a drop of shame in her eyes. She gives you a look that says she's in charge, and that she's been waiting for this, and now it's finally going to happen. And that smile is impossible to refuse. "You could join me if it helps. Make it feel more like an equal partnership."

"Miss— I—"

"I'm joking," she winks. Danielle bunches her hair by her head and turns her head to the side as she rests.

The first of your oils, imported, rich and infused, drip with a consistency thick as honey over her. You watch it roll from the top of her back and run down her spine. Its warmth makes her twitch gently.

Slowly you reach out, press your hands into her skin and drag them from top to bottom, following the oil, making sure you cover her.

She hums in delight.

With great care, you begin your work. Fingers sink in, and your thumbs feel her muscles. Stroking and rubbing, from the top of her back, your fingers coax and prod at the flesh beneath. Pressing it back and forth, at times as gentle as a summer breeze and then as hard as a hammer.

There are knots in her back, beneath the tender surface. You find them easily and work at them to relax, coax them into submission, untying the muscles until they go soft. She gasps at your touch as you release them. Her body responds to you in the sweetest ways. With the smallest of whispers, the little fluttering breaths, and with her skin taking on a pink glow.

When the last knot goes soft, she writhes in response, and a content, relaxed murmur comes out of her.

"Oh god, that's it, don't stop," she says, the first words to come from her for a while.

"You were very tight." You reach across, add a small amount of more oil and start working back upwards. One stroke at a time. Up her neck. Over her shoulders. She trembles when you go deep into her flesh and reaches out to grasp at something, anything, and finds the edge of the table, holding herself steady. Her arms now, you lift them one by one, prying them from her grip and then holding and rubbing and pulling to coax the stiffness out.

Oil over her legs, next. Slowly you run your hands over the outside and inside and rub them into her skin, kneading it into her. Danielle keeps her mouth firmly shut the whole time. No jokes. Nothing funny. You lean down to her, focusing on her thigh that refuses to let go. Bending down, you push into her. As you feel her tension drain, you are rewarded with another quiet hiss.

You place the oil upon her feet and work it into her soles with a finger, an instant trigger, she cackles as her foot recoils at your touch. "Sorry, that's a bit ticklish," she tells you, apologetically.

Her feet go still and she inhales deeply as you set back to your task, much to the quiet amusement of Danielle. It's the slowest you have ever worked on a client, with long, dragging strokes to make sure she really enjoys it. Each is careful, so careful, to pull and tease. "Keep working it all the way up, all the way up my legs," she orders, quietly. "Nice and slow. Can you do that?"

You agree.

You hear Danielle sigh as you move your hands slowly up her calf. So soft and firm at the same time as she breathes so gently. A trace of laughter, an easy smile. You work her in the same manner, up her thigh, as slow and relaxing as before, massaging deep and heavy. Danielle begins to roll her hips as you grip the flesh at the top of her thighs and dig in.

"Higher, please, just for me." Danielle makes a little hum to accompany the instruction. You obey, knowing where this is leading. You take the oil, and let it pour lightly onto the peak of her cheek, it threatens to roll away so you capture it in your palm, a firm squeeze of her rear, a spread of oily warmth. She shivers and pushes up her hips in silent encouragement.

Your hands trail along, smooth and oily, each touch brings more shivers. Her legs part slightly, a slow squirm of her hips. Your fingers glide on her tight, round cheeks; running across, back and forth as she breathes deep. You press deeper with each sweep and listen as her gasps become a little louder, and her body moves a little more. She bends her arm, reaching back, as you watch it shake. Her nails claw onto the side of the bed.

The more you tease her with your touch, the harder she grips and the more she parts her legs. You've known the perfection of her body, just by seeing it, but this feeling confirms it.

Your hand wanders with long, oily strokes as you glide up her back, tracing the curves of her slim back up, all the way to her neck. There, you hold her as you lean in. "You can turn over now. Let's work out your front," you say, and Dani nods in agreement.

She smiles, though she remains silent, slowly, with such care, turning onto her side, then twisting to face you, her face flush, eyes drowsy, her mouth agape. She rests upon her back, arms by her sides, legs flat against the bed, open, as you gaze into her eyes.

You apply the oil with long slow strokes down her stomach, feeling her as she flinches, watching the dimples at her waist appear then vanish with her body's twists, with every flexing of her muscles. When you trace up, her flat, beautiful chest, and slowly slide a finger beneath her small pert breast, Dani takes a deep, quick, raspy breath, then says, "They didn't lie when the reviews said you have the best hands in the world."

Your oil-covered thumbs graze upon her nipple, soft at first, gentle in pressure, but this becomes firmer, building and rising, faster. Round and round it swirls, and this delight sends Danielle's breath to hitches and sharp, shallow pants. As she squirms in delight, her legs twist, rubbing and clenching. Her teeth bite down on her lips. The flesh of her body glistens.

One hand reaches, down a thigh then back up, across her stomach and down the other. Repeated in pattern as the other thumb never ceases on her pert nipple. Dani's eyes go blank as your touch continues, circling, teasing, stroking and grabbing. Her body responds and you are delighted to witness every tremor and gasp as it arches. And finally, for the first time, a full-blooded moan rings free.

Your hand goes lower. Deeper into the pit of her thigh as she spreads her legs wide. You seek out the inevitable and when you reach her crotch, you watch her tense up. And when the touch slides between her pussy's folds, and against her clit, there's an immediate reaction, her body jumping as you make the slightest flick of motion with your middle finger. You lift and let a trail of oil roll down her slit and back down to her rear.

"I wasn't really joking before," she gasps. "You should be naked. It would make this whole experience better." Dani tilts her head, fixes her drowsy gaze onto you, and holds the stare for what feels like a hundred heartbeats. "Don't you think that's fair? The way things are going?"

You hold the eye contact and consider this, a sudden lump in your throat making any immediate reply a struggle. Her eyes don't move from yours. Even her chest barely heaves with her short, fast panting.

"Go on, I want you naked. I'm going to feel so, so empty otherwise..."

That's all it takes.

How could you deny her?

Your hands, still covered in the hot oil, reach for the buttons at your collar. You slip them in order from the top and release one after another. Danielle's lips twitch, and her teeth rake them to a shine. Your clothing drops to the floor. Bared. It feels so wrong, and unprofessional, yet Dani looks on and gapes with a hungry, dark delight.

"Nervous now?" Her eyebrow twitches up.

"Never," you bluff.

Danielle's mouth stays open wide, and her breaths get caught and flicker as your touch returns to the same spot as before. Gentle, light touches flutter with your fingertips, drawing the tips of your fingers back and forth, back and forth, over her clit. You watch as her eyes widen, how her legs straighten out and she starts to kick her feet with the faintest hint of frustration as you tease.

"I paid for a deep massage." She emphasises the adjective, dragging the syllable out like a whine. "This teasing is bad for my heart," she whispers.

Her arm rises, then reaches for your chest and trails its way downward. The pressure of her finger, nails lightly scratching at your skin, trailing down to the waistline and then she wraps her slender fingers around you. It's hard. Incredibly so.

"And I'll show you how generous I can be with a tip."

She licks her lips slowly and sensually as her eyes meet yours with a mischievous gleam.

You grunt, pressing down with your fingertip, and then without a second thought, push it inside of her. Danielle throws her head back in silent bliss.

"Holy shit," she mumbles in a muffled, muted moan. "Don't hold back." You circle inside her slowly with one finger, letting the oil's moisture guide you. Then, adding a second digit, you delve back into her, pushing in deep and making sure she can feel it all the way inside as the palm of your hand pushes against her crotch.

Dani rolls her head to one side as you work, staring you right in the eyes and biting down on her lip as she throbs and you press down inside of her, moving in all sorts of subtle directions that are impossible for her to guess. With that, she moans again and there's a little grunt from deep within her. Her fist twists around you and she gets bolder with her touch.

You build it into some sort of rhythm and she moves, each time, reacting so well with your own thrusts. When she's relaxed enough for it, you introduce another finger.

"I— You can— Go a little bit faster," she pleas. Stretched wider, Dani starts to grow even more restless. This time, instead of small, languid strokes, your whole hand works, fingers rubbing and swirling, thumb finding her clit to massage it with purpose, building, always building, until she is shuddering under you, every single time, tensing and twitching with every change in direction.

"Come on—more," she pleads, bucking up against your hand, so slick with arousal.

She's barely jerking your cock, not even intentionally, just the jolts through her body causing the occasional twist of her grip or slide of her palm. You let it just rest in the loose curl of her grip and focus on doing what she commands, twisting your hand, gripping and stroking, tugging in circles and holding inside. The quivering gets worse and worse. And her breath grows heavier.

You keep working her relentlessly, as she squeals a drawn-out curse. Dani nearly loses control. She grips you hard, tightens her fist around you in spasm, a pained wince on her face, as she curls her toes so hard.

"Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop." It's the only thing she says, no jokes, no banter, as her eyes roll back, mouth agape as if the wind's been knocked from her, and a final, body-length spasm overtakes her. Her whole body. Back arched off the table, eyes pinched shut. It lasts for the longest time, almost impossible to sustain, you watch with an odd mix of terror and wonder. Her hair is a mess. Her naked, stretched-out limbs, glisten in the warm light.

It takes her a good half minute to fall back down, her lungs now sucking in the air as if there were none at all. One leg quivers. Her breaths slow, her eyes open again and you're holding her stare, her cheeks a faint scarlet, strands of hair plastered across her forehead.

More oil. More rubbing. From tension to relaxation again. Slowly she softens and you turn her whole body limp beneath your hands. All while you barely manage to hold yourself back from ravishing her. She keeps her eyes fixed upon you, so you force a smile, ignoring the ache clenched in her fist. You could kiss those lips, right now. Taste them. How soft and smooth would she feel pressed against you? What noises would come out of her?

You'd be forgiven for letting your imagination run wild with desire, but not forgiven for taking this service in any direction that Danielle didn't command.

She watches your thoughts as they float by, and seems to be considering the same. Then she smirks, and just with a look, reassures you that it's going to happen, and it's going to happen just exactly the way she wants it.

You're working your slick hands over her midriff, and have been for a minute or two, waiting for instruction. You work slightly up her body, perilously close to taking some initiative, but then she speaks, "That was... unexpected."

"Was it? Seemed to be your plan all along."

"Planned to tease. Planned to be touched. But did not expect it to be that good." She shakes her head softly, her cheek touching her shoulder as she stares with a fuzzy, dreamy look that is impossible to decipher. She has a cute, beautiful way of pouting her lips that's fascinating, you're struck still, hypnotised by the sight and the motion. "A few more would be perfect."

"You have me booked for another hour, and the client gets what the client wants."

Dani laughs. A light, melodious chime. "I know what I want," she tells you, gently rocking her palm over your cock. "I'm incredibly hard to fully satisfy, you better get to work."

Dani releases you from her grasp, and turns back over to her front, stretching out once more and looking back at you over her shoulder, holding a stare as she parts her legs. This stare could kill a man if his heart were too weak, and though your heartbeat quickens, your mind focuses on your purpose.

Your hands glide over her oil-coated thighs, wet and glistening. Dani rests her head back down and you are unable to stop your gaze from wandering along her spine, the gentle dimple above her ass, the two tight round cheeks below and the line bisecting between them. Up over her ass, you caress, then you slip and stroke in the valley, this, she clearly enjoys, judging from how her butt rises to greet your touch, her hips rolling once more.

Lower now. Lower and lower, until once again, your finger meets her lower lips and she hisses an inwards breath and tenses. Her body is so reactive to every touch. It makes this so easy, so rewarding, so deeply arousing. You are confident you can build her up, high, and crash her down in waves, for hours, until the sun breaks.

Two fingers again, to begin, that same twist and swirl to coax her towards delirium. Her quiet huffs and suppressed moans fill the air. With a heavy push, you dive in deeper, to watch as her whole body, muscle by muscle, starts to become lost in the sensation. And when you curl your fingers down and grind the heel of your hand over her clit, Dani absolutely loses it. She bites the sheets, body tight, hands trying to grab the far edge of the bed to give something to hold onto.

Her feet kick uselessly and a series of incomprehensible phrases fill her breath and break apart on the way out of her. Though you don't quite understand them, you grasp the meaning. This is what she wants you to do right now, to see how high you can bring her.

Her whole body starts trembling again. Tingling, quivering, shivering. It's one constant shake and her moans are louder, and longer. She struggles to breathe out a scream. Sweat begins to mix in the oil, and she lets out another unintelligible mess of words as you pull away. Dani collapses back into a quivering heap, gasping for air and stretching her hands out as if reaching out to the void, reaching out, grasping for something in the dark.

She lies there, spent, breathing deep. Her entire body is hot and burning as her muscles relax. Each breath is a moan, and her thighs clamp tightly together as if the feeling of nothing after being so worked up is torturous to endure.

Your fingers are soaked in her creamy fluids, it drips down onto the bed below. Yet somehow, this isn't over. No. There's a single goal, right in the back of your mind, that's never stopped clawing. If only you could taste her. Sink your face between her firm ass cheeks and tease her with your tongue and suck and devour her, the entirety of her.

Maybe you could ask. Or maybe you could just start kissing her lower back, your nose rubbing against her tailbone, working to the left, towards her hip and tease, trailing your lips ever lower to a spot just over the peak of her butt, until she wants your tongue to dive right in.

The thought is interrupted by her blessing, "Again. Another. However you want," her words stumble upon each other, a raspy, spent quality to her. "Whatever you want."

You kneel at the very end of the bed, lean over and take her hips and you lift them up with an abrupt strength that earns her immediate interest, judging by her sudden gasp. You put her on her knees, ass in the air. Beneath it, her lips shine and spread. You're going to drown in her. You lean over, planting kisses along her body until they land right where your fingers had been, right along her soaked pussy.

The taste is so sweet. Dani whimpers as her body twitches. Your lips part her, and your tongue stretches and laps her up with an unshakeable excitement. Dani tastes amazing, like every inch of her, hot and rich and so unbelievably delicate. She is desire—concentrated and distilled into the female form. Your mouth descends, kissing every tiny spot you can reach, your lips closing, sucking the sticky warmth into your mouth. You might spend the rest of eternity here, savouring her juices.

Each rough lick gives Dani a small burst of pleasure. This is perhaps not the most elegant approach, but you wouldn't dream of stopping and so you continue, over and over, eager to return Dani to her previous, tranced bliss. So wet and sweet and smooth as velvet, your tongue flattens over her clit.

Dani cums twice like this. Ass in the air, your face in her cunt, two more delicious releases and you lap up both. They come accompanied by Dani's musical screams and moans and swearing and mumbles and complete incoherence. Every part of her body tenses. Every movement becomes forced, with less control, until every part of her, quivering and shaking, is taken by a rapture. Her throat chokes off her moans and breathy whimpers, and then she becomes lost for a time, struggling to remember to breathe, caught up in the overwhelming, and unstoppable waves.

"Enough, enough," Dani chokes out, and so you stand back, watching as she twists back into a flat position on her back again, her hips shaking with the effort. She trembles for a while longer before lying perfectly still on the table. As you gaze at her, she still appears ethereal, unattainable. She gazes up at you with lidded eyes and the drowsy content smile that rests upon her lips—she is a goddess. Even after all those body-racking orgasms, she settles into that same elegant grace that makes you question what makes her mortal.

Dani raises a hand and curls a beckoning finger, "Come here."

And you come to her, to her smile that draws you in, a moth to a flame and the moth will burn, not the flame, it will never tire, it will consume anything. She takes you in her hand, hard and throbbing under her delicate touch, and yet so helpless against it. With a pull, Dani draws you in—to consume.

She parts those pretty, pink, curled lips and then looks up into your eyes and sighs as her warm breath runs across your length. Danielle curls her tongue to the underside of your head and engulfs it. She doesn't raise her head from where it rests, instead making you clamber up to her, so you put a knee on the wooden frame and a hand next to her shoulder. The heat grows, and Dani is swirling her tongue over your tip, making you twitch and throb in her grasp, a slave to her touch.

You're pushing forward, leaning over her, as her mouth opens wide and lets you in, then, all at once, tightens. Her tongue and lips stretch around your thickness and then enclose you, sealing tight. She makes a point of looking you in the eye, holding your stare, a curl at the corner of her mouth that only further sets a tremble to your loins. She pulls, slow, agonising and without hurry, her mouth holds tight and sucks back.

You pull out of her, an inch, and she stays clamped tight and as she draws away, she uses the time to slowly slide her tongue along and around your crown and against the sensitive underside. Once Danielle has pulled right off with a wet smack, the warmth of her breath covers your cock once more. She flicks her tongue against your tip, first as a long, sweeping, lingering brush, then a rapid flick that teases.

"Dani, fuck," you groan.

"That's the idea," she whispers, right against you, her warm, panting breath driving you crazy, her own burning desire barely contained. "Get down there and do me. Right now."

Then, in one fluid movement, her hands find her legs. She grips behind her knees and pulls her thighs up and back. She spreads her legs wide, with her feet in the air.

"Fuck me. I mean it," she states firmly, fixing you with that stern gaze. Her words send a flaming arrow directly to light the most basic of your instincts.

She has presented everything to you and wants to give even more. You can think of nothing else but ploughing her into the table until your vision fades to white. It takes only seconds and you find yourself over her, between those slim legs. You put a hand on each thigh and spread her.

Cock bearing down on her leaking cunt, you lower your body until she has all of your weight on top of her. Her hips squirm under your pressure, and she drags your arm tighter around herself until she finds exactly what she's been looking for. A rub between her folds as your length slips against her, up and down.

"Mmm, yes," she giggles, "put it in, all of it."

In an almost unconscious action, you place the head of your cock against her opening. Her wetness provides no friction, and Dani uses her nails to scratch your back impatiently. Slowly you flex forward. Every inch. So warm, so fucking hot. Tighter than anything.

"Oh, yes," is all Dani has to say as her breath cuts short. You feel the intense squeeze, you have no doubt this is a step beyond the pleasure your fingers gave her, and her entire body tightens, and she pulls you in, deep and full. Her eyes grow wide and her fingers dig into you as you draw back and drive in once more.

Another moan, her pitch gets deeper, this one drawn out from her very core. You hear it right in her chest, from the depth of her lungs, before it squeals free, right into your ear. "Worth every penny." Her words are thick and drawled, hard to make out, she can't seem to decide whether she wants to open her mouth or close it and keep it shut.

She wraps her arms tight around your neck and pulls you in deeper, you push her legs higher, folding her body up and it only makes things tighter, a thrill she clearly relishes.

You roll forward, holding her close to you, giving you a better purchase with her feet held up so high. Dani groans as you bite and suck at the soft skin along her neck. Your thrusts are still slow, so damnably slow. You push, and fill, and wait. Over and over, it's a cruel torment to both of you.

"Ah, come on. Give it to me, hard," Dani says, raking nails on your neck. She turns her head. Finds your mouth. Seals her lips against yours. Teeth nibble and then her tongue penetrates your mouth. Her hips start to rise and drop. Her sex grabs at you, pleading to pound her.

So you let go of your iron self-restraint and fuck her. Fuck her good.

Your tempo grows more powerful. Her walls squeeze and pull and writhe with a desperate need. It's tight, so, so tight, the way she envelops you, the slick warmth around you. Each stroke sends a shudder through her. Another ripple follows and with it, her high, pitchy wails. Dani's never been so loud, so demanding that her pleasure be delivered.

Number five is close, you can feel her body going rigid, the quivering, twitching, curling of her toes, the growing tension, you go faster, a force building within, trying to rush her to the inevitable. Dani screams, moaning incoherently, her eyes screw tight as you throw yourself into her with such ferocity, like an animal, with no regard for pace, or rhythm. Pure, unrelenting pleasure.

She grips so hard on your shoulder, and then her other hand goes back, over her head, gripping the edge of the table in white-knuckled desperation. "I'm... cumming," Dani spits through a clenched jaw, unable to even form her tongue around the word.

Her orgasm feels more powerful this time, so much more; it flows through her and you can't help but stare. Watching the way the pink blossom blooms on her face and how the rest of her pales. One orgasm into another, you think, it's difficult to discern. You're in no rush. No race. Instead, you delight in the absolute loss of control you see in Danielle's face and you feed off it.

Her mouth forms a soundless scream and she reaches up and sinks her nails into your chest and drags them across, not breaking the skin, but hard enough to leave marks. It feels amazing. All the more so watching Danielle break herself, willingly.

"Holy shit..." Danielle pants then sucks air into her empty lungs.

Her little, flexible body, pinned beneath yours, seems incapable of even the tiniest motion, save the trembles.

Through gritted teeth, she says, "I want— I want a facial. My face. Cum."

This is the single sexiest thing she could have possibly said at that moment. For all the time you've spent watching that pretty doll-like face contort in a hundred different ways, you want nothing more than to see it coated with your lust. To paint every last bit of that sweetness on her lips, on her cheeks—everywhere. To witness that brief moment, after climax where she is confused and awash with bliss and trying to remember how to breathe, and it's interrupted by a load of your cum. You want it.

You round the table, standing over her head, lowering down and watching her eyes spark with anticipation. Danielle knows how bad you want it, how close it is, and you watch, enraptured by the way she tilts her head up and licks her lips. Her little, eager tongue.

Dani wraps her fingers around you and strokes and pumps fast, pulling, urging you to completion, teasing you to spill over her, onto those pretty, dainty features. Your skin feels alive, like static and pinpricks and pure lightning, like your nerves have come to the surface. Pent-up energy coils low, threatening to snap. You cannot resist her anymore.

It all unfurls in a glorious, explosive instant. Blinding. A shiver climbs up your spine, spreading to every limb in one long spasm. A long, raw growl in your throat as you shoot thick and hard, some on her face, and some overshooting onto her chest. Dani gasps a cute little "Oh" and then starts to giggle as the second rope lands right over her perfect little features. And then another, this time across the bridge of her nose and her cheek and down her lips. Her tongue collects whatever it can.

Dani's small hand keeps a hard grip and keeps coaxing, even as you feel like you have nothing to give, with it all painting her face, still, she jerks up and down, until you are empty, trembling and drained. Still, she goes, forcing you through painful shivers, laughing the whole time until the pain becomes too much, and your hands take hers and pull.

You prop yourself against the table, looking down at the mess you made. Dani's happily laughing to herself, licking up what she can. "You'll need to clean me again now, won't you? Sponge away all your dirty filth," she giggles.

Her giggle is intoxicating. Loving. It warms you right through. You wish you could bottle up her laughter.

"Need a minute," you grunt, and there's so much pride on her cum-strewn face.

"Aw, need time for recovery?" Dani quips. "I'll just lay here, all messy and defiled. Waiting to be tended to. Enjoy the sight of me, of your filthy cum all over my sweet, innocent face, until you get the strength to lift me. Really, don't rush, I love this feeling."