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#this is me being pumped to change and learn more
kidovna · 11 months
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it’s that time of the year when i want to change my art style bc i don’t like it as much anymore
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ms-demeanor · 6 months
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Why reblog machine-generated art?
When I was ten years old I took a photography class where we developed black and white photos by projecting light on papers bathed in chemicals. If we wanted to change something in the image, we had to go through a gradual, arduous process called dodging and burning.
When I was fifteen years old I used photoshop for the first time, and I remember clicking on the clone tool or the blur tool and feeling like I was cheating.
When I was twenty eight I got my first smartphone. The phone could edit photos. A few taps with my thumb were enough to apply filters and change contrast and even spot correct. I was holding in my hand something more powerful than the huge light machines I'd first used to edit images.
When I was thirty six, just a few weeks ago, I took a photo class that used Lightroom Classic and again, it felt like cheating. It made me really understand how much the color profiles of popular web images I'd been seeing for years had been pumped and tweaked and layered with local edits to make something that, to my eyes, didn't much resemble photography. To me, photography is light on paper. It's what you capture in the lens. It's not automatic skin smoothing and a local filter to boost the sky. This reminded me a lot more of the photomanipulations my friend used to make on deviantart; layered things with unnatural colors that put wings on buildings or turned an eye into a swimming pool. It didn't remake the images to that extent, obviously, but it tipped into the uncanny valley. More real than real, more saturated more sharp and more present than the actual world my lens saw. And that was before I found the AI assisted filters and the tool that would identify the whole sky for you, picking pieces of it out from between leaves.
You know, it's funny, when people talk about artists who might lose their jobs to AI they don't talk about the people who have already had to move on from their photo editing work because of technology. You used to be able to get paid for basic photo manipulation, you know? If you were quick with a lasso or skilled with masks you could get a pretty decent chunk of change by pulling subjects out of backgrounds for family holiday cards or isolating the pies on the menu for a mom and pop. Not a lot, but enough to help. But, of course, you can just do that on your phone now. There's no need to pay a human for it, even if they might do a better job or be more considerate toward the aesthetic of an image.
And they certainly don't talk about all the development labs that went away, or the way that you could have trained to be a studio photographer if you wanted to take good photos of your family to hang on the walls and that digital photography allowed in a parade of amateurs who can make dozens of iterations of the same bad photo until they hit on a good one by sheer volume and luck; if you want to be a good photographer everyone can do that why didn't you train for it and spend a long time taking photos on film and being okay with bad photography don't you know that digital photography drove thousands of people out of their jobs.
My dad told me that he plays with AI the other day. He hosts a movie podcast and he puts up thumbnails for the downloads. In the past, he'd just take a screengrab from the film. Now he tells the Bing AI to make him little vignettes. A cowboy running away from a rhino, a dragon arm-wrestling a teddy bear. That kind of thing. Usually based on a joke that was made on the show, or about the subject of the film and an interest of the guest.
People talk about "well AI art doesn't allow people to create things, people were already able to create things, if they wanted to create things they should learn to create things." Not everyone wants to make good art that's creative. Even fewer people want to put the effort into making bad art for something that they aren't passionate about. Some people want filler to go on the cover of their youtube video. My dad isn't going to learn to draw, and as the person who he used to ask to photoshop him as Ant-Man because he certainly couldn't pay anyone for that kind of thing, I think this is a great use case for AI art. This senior citizen isn't going to start cartooning and at two recordings a week with a one-day editing turnaround he doesn't even really have the time for something like a Fiverr commission. This is a great use of AI art, actually.
I also know an artist who is going Hog Fucking Wild creating AI art of their blorbos. They're genuinely an incredibly talented artist who happens to want to see their niche interest represented visually without having to draw it all themself. They're posting the funny and good results to a small circle of mutuals on socials with clear information about the source of the images; they aren't trying to sell any of the images, they're basically using them as inserts for custom memes. Who is harmed by this person saying "i would like to see my blorbo lasciviously eating an ice cream cone in the is this a pigeon meme"?
The way I use machine-generated art, as an artist, is to proof things. Can I get an explosion to look like this. What would a wall of dead computer monitors look like. Would a ballerina leaping over the grand canyon look cool? Sometimes I use AI art to generate copyright free objects that I can snip for a collage. A lot of the time I use it to generate ideas. I start naming random things and seeing what it shows me and I start getting inspired. I can ask CrAIon for pose reference, I can ask it to show me the interior of spaces from a specific angle.
I profoundly dislike the antipathy that tumblr has for AI art. I understand if people don't want their art used in training pools. I understand if people don't want AI trained on their art to mimic their style. You should absolutely use those tools that poison datasets if you don't want your art included in AI training. I think that's an incredibly appropriate action to take as an artist who doesn't want AI learning from your work.
However I'm pretty fucking aggressively opposed to copyright and most of the "solid" arguments against AI art come down to "the AIs viewed and learned from people's copyrighted artwork and therefore AI is theft rather than fair use" and that's a losing argument for me. In. Like. A lot of ways. Primarily because it is saying that not only is copying someone's art theft, it is saying that looking at and learning from someone's art can be defined as theft rather than fair use.
Also because it's just patently untrue.
But that doesn't really answer your question. Why reblog machine-generated art? Because I liked that piece of art.
It was made by a machine that had looked at billions of images - some copyrighted, some not, some new, some old, some interesting, many boring - and guided by a human and I liked it. It was pretty. It communicated something to me. I looked at an image a machine made - an artificial picture, a total construct, something with no intrinsic meaning - and I felt a sense of quiet and loss and nostalgia. I looked at a collection of automatically arranged pixels and tasted salt and smelled the humidity in the air.
I liked it.
I don't think that all AI art is ugly. I don't think that AI art is all soulless (i actually think that 'having soul' is a bizarre descriptor for art and that lacking soul is an equally bizarre criticism). I don't think that AI art is bad for artists. I think the problem that people have with AI art is capitalism and I don't think that's a problem that can really be laid at the feet of people curating an aesthetic AI art blog on tumblr.
Machine learning isn't the fucking problem the problem is massive corporations have been trying hard not to pay artists for as long as massive corporations have existed (isn't that a b-plot in the shape of water? the neighbor who draws ads gets pushed out of his job by product photography? did you know that as recently as ten years ago NewEgg had in-house photographers who would take pictures of the products so users wouldn't have to rely on the manufacturer photos? I want you to guess what killed that job and I'll give you a hint: it wasn't AI)
Am I putting a human out of a job because I reblogged an AI-generated "photo" of curtains waving in the pale green waters of an imaginary beach? Who would have taken this photo of a place that doesn't exist? Who would have painted this hypersurrealistic image? What meaning would it have had if they had painted it or would it have just been for the aesthetic? Would someone have paid for it or would it be like so many of the things that artists on this site have spent dozens of hours on only to get no attention or value for their work?
My worst ratio of hours to notes is an 8-page hand-drawn detailed ink comic about getting assaulted at a concert and the complicated feelings that evoked that took me weeks of daily drawing after work with something like 54 notes after 8 years; should I be offended if something generated from a prompt has more notes than me? What does that actually get the blogger? Clout? I believe someone said that popularity on tumblr gets you one thing and that is yelled at.
What do you get out of this? Are you helping artists right now? You're helping me, and I'm an artist. I've wanted to unload this opinion for a while because I'm sick of the argument that all Real Artists think AI is bullshit. I'm a Real Artist. I've been paid for Real Art. I've been commissioned as an artist.
And I find a hell of a lot of AI art a lot more interesting than I find human-generated corporate art or Thomas Kincaid (but then, I repeat myself).
There are plenty of people who don't like AI art and don't want to interact with it. I am not one of those people. I thought the gay sex cats were funny and looked good and that shitposting is the ideal use of a machine image generation: to make uncopyrightable images to laugh at.
I think that tumblr has decided to take a principled stand against something that most people making the argument don't understand. I think tumblr's loathing for AI has, generally speaking, thrown weight behind a bunch of ideas that I think are going to be incredibly harmful *to artists specifically* in the long run.
Anyway. If you hate AI art and you don't want to interact with people who interact with it, block me.
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bumblequinn · 6 months
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hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.
as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)
but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:
changing expectations
the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!
my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.
when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.
so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?
with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.
with that in mind:
#1: work slower
when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.
instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.
i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!
now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.
doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.
however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:
#2: switch projects
sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.
this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.
the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.
what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.
but it doesn't have to stop there.
#3: switch focus
maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?
let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:
what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?
and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?
what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?
any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.
or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.
but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:
#4: learn something new
when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.
for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴‍☠️)
it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)
that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:
music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang
mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix
general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!
(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)
of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:
#5: consume art you love
not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.
but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.
and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.
what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.
as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.
none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.
and finally,
#6: rest, and live your life
let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?
take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).
it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.
i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.
when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)
before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:
be kind to yourself.
being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.
i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.
i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.
thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.
with care, bee 🐦
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pickingupmymercedes · 29 days
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She's here and she's not only ours - Lewis Hamilton
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Sequel to She's here and she's ours. Bit of angst, lots of fluff.
pairing: Dad!Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
wordcount: +1k
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
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Navigating the journey from being a couple to becoming a family is often likened to entering a whole new world—one filled with unpredictable challenges and profound joys. The radiant 7-month-old girl had effortlessly woven herself into the fabric of your lives, captivating not only you and Lewis but everyone who crossed her path. Yet, adjusting to new routines, shifting priorities, managing emotional and physical changes, and, most crucially, cultivating a deep bond with your child were aspects of parenthood that no book, class, or well-meaning advice had adequately prepared you for.
And so, the real test of parenthood often lay in learning to prioritize.
“Oh my God, she’s growing up so quickly!” Susie exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she entered the living area of your apartment, making a beeline for the giggling toddler seated in her bumbo seat on the kitchen island.
“Please, don’t remind me. Time is flying by too fast already,” you replied, your smile widening as you watched your baby recognize Susie and reach out to be scooped up.
“I’m sorry for dropping by unannounced… I just... I had to know why,” Susie said, her expression curious and concerned.
You had expected people to comment and be surprised, but you hadn’t anticipated the attention coming so soon, even before you and Lewis had a chance to share your news.
“So, I take it everyone at Mercedes already knows?”
“More like everyone on the paddock, probably,” Susie confirmed.
“Do you remember her first few days? When she struggled to gain weight and every day felt like a battle?”
The first inkling that something was amiss came mere hours after you had returned home with your newborn daughter. Her incessant cries and insatiable hunger, even after an hour of breastfeeding, had raised red flags.
You had been warned that the initial days would be challenging—that you were now solely responsible for nourishing a tiny human. So, you soldiered on, suppressing your growing panic and tears, dreading the 40-minute feeding intervals where you’d bite your tongue and cheeks to keep from crying.
You tried every trick in the book—increasing your water intake, warm and cold compresses, dietary changes, pumping between feeds, consulting lactation specialists, and even consuming magic lactation cookies. Yet, your milk supply remained stubbornly low.
The sense of failure weighed heavily on you; your primary role was to nurture your baby, something you had done successfully during pregnancy. Instead of relishing the joys of new motherhood, you felt like a failure, a lesser mother to your daughter and a villain to your husband's fairytale of having kids.
Lewis was acutely aware of your distress and tried to be supportive. Despite knowing, as doctors and specialists had advised, that you needed to supplement with formula for both your daughter’s and your own well-being, he refrained from pressuring you. Every night he would feel as though you were punching him in the face when you went out of his sight to cry, or how his chest would tighten when he carried your screaming daughter in his arms, knowing she needed more, from him and from you. Still, he didn’t have in him to lecture you, yet again, on how that little girl needed more, not when you were giving your life and sanity away for her.
It wasn’t until the day before her second week checkup that you broke down. You knew the scale wasn’t going to give her much more grams than she had the past week, way less than she deserved and the added burden that he would be going for his first race of the season in a couple days had you reaching your breaking point.
Seeing Lewis on the sofa, looking worried and worn-out, you collapsed in front of him, letting your tears flow freely. He held you, comforting you with gentle whispers, and you both agreed that transitioning to formula was for the best. Despite the months of hearing about the benefits of breastfeeding, you had come to understand that sometimes the most challenging part of parenthood was knowing when to stand your ground and make the best choice for your family.
“We don’t want his job to feel like a burden every weekend,” you said.
“So, the Hamiltons will be a staple in the paddocks?” Susie asked, her approving smile revealing her pride.
“Life doesn’t always go as planned, does it?” You shrugged
“The media is going to love that smile,” Susie cooed, her attention directed at the toothy grin of your daughter.
“Yeah… She won’t be only ours, but Lewis needs her as much as she needs him. I guess it’s a small price to pay,” you replied, smiling at your yawning daughter in Susie’s lap, her little hands rubbing her eyes—a clear sign that her naptime was due.
“Please, let me. She still loves Disney songs, right?” Susie absentmindedly asked, already heading towards your daughter’s room, laying the toddler on her cheast and ready to lull her to sleep with a familiar melody. As you watched, you couldn’t help but marvel at how your daughter had already captured so many hearts at such a young age.
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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk
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mo-mode · 3 months
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Back on my Screenwriter soap box while watching PJO: They should have bought a bunch of oil diffusers.
(Edit: This post was made before someone pointed out to me that I missed a key line of dialogue, but my points and theories still stand for the same reasons backing up my original post so I’m not changing anything. The dialogue I missed lets us know that Hermes told Percy the lotus was being pumped into the air off-screen. It’s also implies (? I’m still on the fence about this one?) that Hermes told him what day it is, but I missed these during my first three watches because of how quick and vague it was. Which actually kind of supports my point on why visual indicators are so important. Without these, it’s easy to miss key information. And remember, it’s a kid’s show. ANYWAY my conclusions haven’t changed, and I still believe these edits would work better than the quick line of dialogue so just keep this in mind. Thanks.)
(I’m not being nit-picky. I swear. Just hear me out.) So the weirdest thing to me in episode six was how Percy just…learned everything so quickly without any visual indicators? Like they know time passed because it’s dark outside, but how did he know it was Thursday? They know they were affected by the lotus flowers, but how does he know it was pumped into the air? This irked me because even if he’s smart enough to figure some of this out himself (which he is) we as the audience should still be able to follow his thought process instead of learning after the fact.
What if there were oil diffusers?
So imagine the trio walks into the Lotus, figures out this is like the Odyssey, and decides not to eat anything. They waltz in super confident that they cracked the code, but they were wrong. How do we know? Because the moment they enter the crowd, we get an establishing shot of a lotus-branded oil diffuser letting out steam.
Immediately, we as the audience realize their mistake, making it just that more tantalizing to watch. As the episode continues, we realize they’re everywhere. There’s a diffuser in the plants, on the counter, between the game tables, always right out of the corner of our eyes. They just keep churning out lotus-scented oil into the air, which we can infer because we’re smart. (Remember that.)
Now when Percy realizes what’s going on, we know HOW they’re doing it and HOW Percy knows without being told!! Because they were there the whole time.
Onto Thursday.
Consider: A watch.
What if Hermes has the only watch in the casino until the trio walks in with their own?
Let’s give Annabeth one of those cheap, funky watches that gives the time, day, month, year, etc. Something you get from a kids toy catalogue. It’s waterproof, glows in the dark, has an alarm or whatever. I feel like Annabeth would have one of those. (And honestly, she might already. I forgot.) The most important feature for us, though, is the day. It clearly tells us the day of the week.
It’s pretty easy to establish that Annabeth has the watch. Just do it the same way they establish the date: Percabeth arguing over it in the truck. Annabeth shows him the watch. Establishing shot of the watch’s face. That’s it. No bells or whistles necessary. Then when they get to the casino, Annabeth checks it one more time (without an establishing shot, she just does it casually) and they walk in.
(It’s so easy. I promise.)
While Grover is walking around alone, he tries to check the time and realizes there’s no clocks. (Which ngl is super common in casinos already, but it’s creepy nonetheless.) Yada yada, he gets sucked in by Augustus and that’s how he gets got.
Meanwhile, Percy and Annabeth keep meaning to check the time, but every time they do, someone tries to hand them an appetizer or a drink, which makes them forget OR Annabeth’s hubris keeps her from checking. (Percy: Time check? Annabeth: Its only been five minutes. We’re fine. We need to focus.)
And that brings us to Hermes. After their chat, yada yada, Annabeth “leaves” and Hermes gets all cryptic, then he makes a BIG show of checking his watch, and THAT’S when Percy realizes something’s wrong because oh no they haven’t checked the time. So he finds Annabeth, they see it’s dark outside, they check her watch, and it’s Thursday.
“But we didn’t eat anything!” Annabeth says. Percy looks at the diffusers by the entrance. It dawns on him. “They’re pumping it into the air.”
That’s how you VISUALLY SHOW US THINGS instead of Percy just figuring everything out off-camera and telling us!!!!
Now, you may be thinking “Oh but do they have the budget for that??” Do you know how cheap these props are? Just bulk buy like six oil diffusers, slap a homemade sticker of a lotus flower on them, and keep moving them into every shot. And they’re quiet!! They wouldn’t interfere with the sound, the steam is visible enough to be caught on camera without messing with the lighting, they actually look really cool in some lighting, and they fit the atmosphere of a hotel/casino!! Then the watch is like $15, fits with Annabeth’s character, and totally matches her outfit.
It’s CHEAP! It’s EASY! It DOESN’T CUT INTO THE RUN TIME! It’s AESTHETICALLY PLEASING! ANNABETH GETS A SICK WATCH!! NO DOWNSIDES!!!!
The biggest problem with this show isn’t how accurate it is to the book or how much money they have or that they’re “Disney-fying” it. The problem is they are TELLING US things instead of SHOWING us. And not to beat a dead horse because everyone’s heard of “Show Don’t Tell” but like??? This is exactly why everyone is taught this over and over again in school?? Because people still do it anyway all the time???
There’s also something else I learned (or really just picked up) when I got my B.A. in Creative Writing: Good shows are predictable.
Whether it’s a case of the audience learning what’s going to happen before it happens or them watching the show again and realizing how obvious the answer was the whole time, audiences always want to feel smart. They want to interact with the material. If you don’t give them the opportunity to pick apart the mystery themselves by setting down clues, they’ll give up on interacting with the show and lose interest. That’s why you SHOW them things. There are several moments where this show is completely unpredictable, not because it’s complex but because it doesn’t let you predict it. That doesn’t make it bad—the comedy and character development is doing a great job of carrying the show’s weight so far. But it definitely doesn’t make the show good.
It’s like Rube Goldberg machines. Or dominoes! We don’t watch those crazy 1000+ domino videos so we can watch the last one fall. We watch it to see HOW they fall. Take one domino out, and it’s unsatisfactory. It doesn’t work anymore.
But some oil diffusers and a watch??? Little clues that make the realization that more visually appealing??? THAT’S SATISFYING
Anyway, these are just two things that could have been done, but weren’t. Most of the show is stellar. I think it just needs a little bit of editing here and there. I studied this for like years, and I needed to get this off my chest. That’s it.
Rick Riordan, if you ever see this, I am available for hire :) I would love to be a script doctor please please please please
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runa-falls · 10 months
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pornstar!moon-boys x fluffer!reader
part one: marc
a/n: some headcannons bc we filthy up in this bitch >:)
others: steven | jake | more steven
as a fluffer, it's your job to know how to keep the boys interested. each alter has their own preferences:
(NSFW 18+ under the cut)
marc: the wretched
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Marc is a self-deprecating man and the first alter you met. He's always very serious about his work, even when directors come up with ridiculous scenarios for him to act out.
At first, he refused you, convincing himself that all he needed to prep for scenes was his hand and his phone. That didn't last long. He was struggling to get through shooting days and often forced production to extend over their time. So you were called.
He didn't expect a girl like you to come onto set. You looked like a normal civilian, clothed in comfortable jeans and a tank top. You didn't look like you belonged anywhere near the porn industry.
The first session with you immediately changed his mind. You figured him out within a handful of minutes, watching closely to how he'd react to different touches and situations.
You never take your clothes off for him because that's how he likes it. There's this unspoken power dynamic that would surprise a lot of his fans as he's known for being dominant in videos. With you, he's the one who's stripped down as you climb into his lap fully clothed.
He sighs, hands gripping your waist as the rough texture of your jeans rubs against his sensitive skin. You grind down on him because you know he likes it rough and you can already feel him stiffening under you.
He's not submissive in a way where he whines or begs, he just takes whatever you'll give him. Sometimes you'll refuse his kisses, pulling back or looking away when he gets too close, too needy. It only turns him on further because he thinks he deserves it.
Other times you'll only kiss him. You'll make out with him for the full 15 minutes he has to prepare while never touching him once and he'll last the whole scene.
But his favorite sessions are when you edge him over and over again until he's physically trembling under you. He'll never admit it but he loves when you sit on his lap. He secretly craves your closeness and the intimacy that your presence brings, so when you edge him you're perched on his lap so you both have to watch as your hand pumps his cock in between your bodies.
The handjobs are nothing special, but he crumbles from your touch anyway. You've found that you can break him in mere minutes when you make him look at you, eye-to-eye.
"Look at me, baby." You purr, using your open hand to tilt his head up. His eyes are droopy and red, a product of two edging sessions right before this. Your gazes lock and he's shivering in your hold. "Come on, give it to me." You give him a teasing squeeze and he about falls over. His breaths start to speed up and you know he's getting close.
A glance at the clock says you have 4 minutes until call time.
With one more stroke you pull away.
He lets out a low grunt and his body shudders from how sensitive he is. You be a breeze could finish him off.
Maybe you went overboard... usually you only edge him once, but three times?
He'll probably be back in this room in 20 minutes from cumming too early. Dammit.
"Ok, you have like... 3 minutes. You ready?"
You've learned to be casual, to take him out of the scene as fast a possible so he can focus. He's still sitting on the armchair, trying to calm down.
"I, uh. I think I need a minute." Marc won't look at you.
Yeah, maybe three was too much.
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lady-ashfade · 2 months
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Lord Of The Tides
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Yan!One-Eyed!Lucerys Velaryon x Niece!Reader
╰・゚✧☽ the best girl @madame-fear requested this from me and I love the way her mind works. She’s my wife- so I hope I make her happy with this one.
╰・゚✧☽ words: 3k
╰・゚✧☽ warnings: targ’cest, lucerys being a bit different because he’s older, he also losses a eye, yandere behavior, slight dark themes, and slight mature themes (sexual), but no smut, and if there is a mistake about him having two eyes—Shh.
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“were you scared?” the spoon in your hand scratched the bottom of the cup in your hand, and the sound of your heels clinking on the floor boards below were soft but could be heard around the room. even if it was only the two of you, the room was full in your eyes. “greatly. I was young and naive but I loved my brother, but I was too slow to reach towards the knife. Aemond had me beat in length, and that’s how,” his fingers moved upward to the black patch on his eye. He didn’t look ashamed of it like he did all thoses years ago before you were born, his body grew and so did his mind.
“I remember the story sounding much more…action packed as a child. Don’t get me wrong, uncle, you are the bravest man I ever met,” his chest filled with pride as the words fell from your dusted pink lips, “but I do recall you saying you road in on a dragon?” The sly smile on your cheeks was the only thing he recognized about you now. It’s been a few years since he had seen you, or took notice really. he was trying to fulfill his duty to study on how to be the next “lord of the tides” and he took it seriously.
glancing upon you now for the first time in years, he could see the beautiful woman you’ve became. perfect body that filled out your dress perfectly while showing just the right amount of skin but enough to leave any eyes yarning for more. you had matured more then well. In this moment he couldn’t pull his eye away from you, he was desperate to look at you for as long as he could. you were magnificent. “Would that enthrall you?” his teasing tone and brow arch made you flush in embarrassment.
“Would make the story a lot better, uncle.” you raise the cup to your lips and took a quiet sip while holding eye contact with him. the few seconds of silence had your stomach tingling and blood pumping faster. there was no secret from a young age you had a crush on your kind uncle. He had given you attention and made you laugh while teaching you stories and knowledge. It was just a silly crush that had you staying up late at night thinking of his smile years later.
“I suppose your right.” he broke eye contact to chuckle and lean forward to grab a soft pastry from the table. “Tell me, what has it been like while I was away? Has my brother learned anything about being future king?” His tone was off. Almost sounding as if he was belittling your father, or making fun of him. You stood up straight and place the glass down on its plate.
“My father has been doing a great job. Our queen is training him well, or do you doubt your own mother?” his body stopped in time for a second with half his lips wrapped around the sugared sweet to stare at you. he couldn’t believe how fast you acted to defend your father and tried to make a fool out of himself. the look behind your eyes and the smile tugging at your lips he could tell you meant no true harm. only to play a little game.
“You have changed,” he tone shifted as his eye made sure to run its way up and down your body, making you squirm in your chair. “No longer a girl but a lady.” you hated how easy it was to feel drawn into him again. it was different now then it was back then, you had aches and desire only the dead of night could see and he was making it so hard to control them. “I was pleased when I got your letter even if I had little time to prepare for it. But there is one question on my mind: why?” the truth wasn’t something you could tell him in that moment. So you settled for something easy, and nothing like the full picture.
“I missed you. Castle life is wonderful, but you always showed me the fun of things.”
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each day that went by he was drawn in closer by you, from your smell, to your smile, to the sound of your laugh that he caused. he tried to deny himself from the thought of you but you were already hammered into his mind once he saw you getting off your dragon merely days ago. It’s been a long while since he saw beauty like you, your intelligence mind and wit, or your able to be naive in hopes of a better world. the strength to hold himself back when you were just a few inches away from him was great. he wanted to hold you, to touch your soft kiss…to whisper into your ear—
“I don’t understand,” the sound of you voice awakened him from his day dreaming. you had not noticed his staring from being turned away from him. “This game is incredibly stupid.” the mallet in your hands swung a bit as you exhaled frustratingly. the colored balls scattered around the ground, non of them close to being where his were.
“I think you wanted me to fail,” you pouted you lips at the tall man. “It’s not my fault your losing my dear,” the nickname made your body clinch, “if you had listened to me-” the words shouting from your mouth interrupted him.
“I have been listening to you. But you’re somehow cheating.” it made him unbelievably amused to watch you huff and pout at losing a game you forced him to teach you. if he could, he’d steal that pout away from your lips and make you whine about something else. “Are you accusing me of something?” He leaned his arms on the mallet but leaning on his leg to stare at you with scrunched brows. you took a moment to find something to say but only muffled and gagged words came from your lips before you eventually gave up.  “No uncle, forgive me for my temperament.” You looked down at the yellow ball and glared down at it.
“It’s just utterly frustrating to loss when you’re already so far ahead of me,” you glanced back up and pointed to his, “I don’t like losing.” that was something you gained from both your parents if he was honest. jace never liked to lose a game or training, and your mother had a shorter temper he could only imagine how you’d act when you get heated. “Then we should keep playing until your good.” he turned back to hit the blue ball at his feet and cheers when he gets it through the metal bars. gods, he was going to kill you with his handsome smile.
It was heart wrenching to see his smile fade and his body tense days later, with his hand resting on the stone railing. it was a perfect day, the time you spent with him was still unmatched by the way he made you feel. the sun shining orange across the sky and bouncing off the both of you, making the other even more breathtaking to each other.
“What?” his voice rasped and dropped darker then you have heard it before. all ounce of happiness left his body and started to over flow with growing anger. “For how long?” the raise volume to his voice make you look down in guilt for some reason. he was mad at you for not telling him…but for reasons you did not know of. “Two months. Before I came he was set to stay in kindslanding to find our ground with one another,” you played with you finger tips. he took a deep breathe to stop himself from shouting at you any further. his sweet girl knew nothing of the pain it caused him to hear those words. to find out she was in fact not his.
“He’s sweet, and kind. A perfect match for the realm,” you look up at the orange sunset and feel the aching in your heart grow, “we are to be wed in three months.” grabbing the long glass of wine from beside you and bringing it up to your lips to take a big sip. you needed to drown out the doubts and fears you had somehow. lucerys fist tightened at the thought of another having you be their bride, to get to kiss you and share your bed every night. he was lord of the tides, he had the best fleet and army at sea, he could protect you, love you like you deserve- but this man got it just on a whim?
you are more precious to be sold for some on going alliance with a household- you deserved a prince.
“But,” you start again with hesitation and force yourself away from his eyes, “he is not the one I long for. Yes, he would be a good and faithful husband but my heart does not long for him.” the title belonged to the man you stood beside, the man who made your soul burn blighter. he stepped forward and your breath hitched and couldn’t keep your eyes away from him. the eyepatch on his face never made you fear him, not even once did the stories make you feel any less for him.
“Who does it long for?” He fell hushed as he stood even closer to you now, your bodies almost touching and you could almost feel the heat coming from him. you wanted so badly to reach out and touch him, to belong to him- to marry him. but it was not to be so, your duty as the princess is to care for the kingdom the best you can and that is for your betrothal to the lord you barley knew to work. and not to the man you loved.
clearing your throat you step back away from him and force a smile your face. you clearly were imagining things and he was not pursuing your fantasies, or his own. “A chat for another time perhaps, it’s getting quite late wouldn’t you say? I need a good nights sleep for my travels tomorrow.” he had forgotten all about you leaving. time slips away with you here. how could he bring himself to part ways now after everything you brought him?
“Then I shall fair you goodnight,” before you could pull away his body moves forwards and his lips pressed against the hairline of your forehead. it was a few seconds long but the feeling made you overwhelmed in shock, you froze up. pulling away from you he took notice of your reaction and how tense you became, “slept well, my dear” he walked away with a curled smile towards his cheeks and leaving you standing there alone.
that night you toasted and turned in your sheets thinking of how his lips felt on your skin and your brain started to wander. how would it feel for him to kiss down your shoulder, or you lips and down your chest in his chambers at night. he had no wife to warm his bed, surely he must be lonely? but a man like him was definitely no stranger to the feeling of a lovers touch and you knew that for sure. the thoughts you had that night made you feel embarrassed to see him the next morning when you woke from the vivid dream you had.
you fixed your glove over your hands and made sure everything you need is tied on tight to your dragon. she squirms beneath your touch and if she could purr like a cat you know she would. lurcerys appreciates you carefully as your attention was not on him, he liked to see your face in shock because he found it adorable. “Leaving without a goodbye?” to his pleasure he was right. when you turned around at his voice spooked like a horse.
“I wasn’t sure you’d have time, it’s early.” you shifted awkwardly and covered yourself. he hummed along and walked closer and then inches by you. he stops before the scales of your dragon and slowly guides his palm over repeatedly along her body, makes her happy like it was you. even she enjoyed his company, much like her rider. “I’m sorry, I did not know how to say goodbye.” admitting the truth was harder once it was out for some reason. you didn’t want to look like a girl despite in love.
“This isn’t a goodbye, we will see each other again.” he gave one last pat and turned to face you again. he stood with his hands clasped together, his black outfit with golden accents shining in the morning sun, his dark brown hair reflecting just like the gold.
“I’m sure of it.”
Lucerys Velaryon was many things. a prince, a lord, a brave soldier trained, and powerful man with connections everywhere. he could pay his way through the slums and have anything he wanted done at the snap of his fingers. he never wished to see you in tears or upset, really, but that’s the way things happened. to even think of letting you suffer a marriage to— anyone but him was a taste worse then the gods could give. and it was tragic how the lord just ended up dead a few days later from being poisoned by one of his own cooks. he died in his mothers arms and his heart felt sorrow for her and only her.
you came running into his arms after you heard the news since he was the only one you could go to. of course you would, he planned it just right. so he kept you in a tight embrace as you cried into his chest while stoking your hair and whispering everything was going to be fine and you were too distraught to say anything. “just breathe sweet girl,” he whispered into your ear. you grabbed ahold of him and tried to calm your breathing but the hiccups messed you up. he hated seeing you like this but was overjoyed at the same time. he was with you, you were his now.
“I’m scared,” you sobbed as more tears rolled down your already damp cheeks, “he was kind- the next man might not be the same. I don’t want to be a miserable wife,” naive little you to think he’d ever let that happen.
“look at me,” he commanded but not harshly. his hands cupped the skin of your jaw and cheek to guide your face up to him. even now you looked as stunning as ever. “I’d never let you be miserable, you are too special,” his thumb traced shapes into your skin. he looked into your puffy eyes and drank them in, you looked so innocent and in need of his protection. and he loved that. “I shall confess I find myself thinking of you since you first arrived in driftmark as a new woman.” he watched your eyes widen in anticipation and surprise.
“my heart longs for you and only you. the minute you come the place lit up and worked smoothly with you around. driftmart needs a lady, I need someone by my side that is wise and has a soft approach.” your brain fogs up as he leans down near your face like he was going to kiss you but stops just before your noses touch. “I’d fill your rooms up with anything you ever ask for, show you love like you’ve never dreamed, or protect you from any harm that comes your way. you know I’m a better choice than the boys competing for your hand.” you hear the slight venom in his voice towards the mentions of other lords.
“my father, what would he say?” you whisper and he could feel your breath making him hold himself back. “I’m in need of a wife, he’s daughter is a reasonable gift. He knows I’d never mistreat you,” the other hand grabs ahold your waist and moves his hands up and down your dress making you shiver. “come on, sweet girl. say yes.” a simple nod of your head was enough of a answer for him to finally capture your lips like he had been waiting for. you felt so warm pressed up against him it made him feral inside.
the warmth inside became like a explosion when he kissed you, the way he’s holding onto you so tight and against him, his short breaths and gasp for air, the hunger makes you sore and aching for everything he had. he wanted to give you it all, but he couldn’t. not until he put a ring on your finger and that pained him. the hormones in his body were at its peak now.
slightly tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth he pulled away slowly with a husky growl. he held your hips in place to stop you from trying to get more. he listens to you pant while doing the same thing himself. you smiled up at him, “I’ve always wanted you to be mine,” you say blinking your eyes up at him teasingly, “I don’t think I can ever belong to another.”
his chest rumbles in soft laughter. “About my brother— I’ll make him see we belong together, he raised you well so he knows just how much I need you.” he was so good a flattering. you roll your eyes playfully at him, “you have honeyed words, my betrothed.” you needed no acceptance from your father. you’d run back to dragon stone and wed Lusercys there. you couldn’t be pulled away from him after this.
“Because you get the cutest look on your face, you haven’t been as secretive about your feelings towards me. Should we talk about the time you practically bursted into flames when you knocked yourself onto me?”
“You stoop so low, my lord.”
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seventeenytiny · 1 year
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♡ Sexual Themes I Feel Stray Kids Get Associated With ♡
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Authors Note: So I’ve read enough smut from other blogs all over Tumblr that I feel like I started to see certain themes with each member reoccurring on Tumblr. Maybe it’s just certain blogs that keep pumping out the same type of content and I just haven’t noticed it’s the same blog. Anyways, I still thought this would be a fun thing to do, let me know if you agree or disagree with me. I’d love to know what kinks other people on Tumblr associate with certain members. One last thing, kinda hate how I set this up but can’t really change it now. Sorry if some of the sections aren’t as detailed as others, not all these kinks are things I’m generally comfortable with writing. Not uncomfortable with them, but just not necessarily stuff I’m into lol.
Contains: Sexual Themes/Smut, Minors DNI, Each section has a kink in front of it, if you're not comfortable reading that kink just skip over that section :)
Smut Below the Cut
Bang Chan - Breeding Kink 
I’ve learned Tumblr in general is OBSESSED with breeding kinks but I’m pretty sure Chan has this topic come up in his stories the most. I think him giving off the biggest dad vibes of the group makes us associate him with this kink. Alright so just imagine him coming home to fuck you after a long day of work. He loves to take you from behind so he can watch his cock go in and out of you as your body reacts with each thrust. “Please babe just let me cum in you just this once,” he wines out. You were too fucked out for rational thoughts, “I need your cum, Chris, please fill me.” He grips your hips hard, thrusts growing sloppy after hearing your words, his high rapidly approaching. With a grunt, he releases into you, his warm cum coating your walls. After calming down from his orgasm, he pulls out slowly, trying to prevent any cum from spilling out. He uses his finger to push anything that threatens to spill out back in, he can’t let a single drop go to waste.
Lee Know - BDSM/Hard Dom 
Minho is rough in bed, or at least that’s what everyone thinks. After a particularly rough day at work, he comes home just to release his pent-up frustration on you. He stands in front of you, his eyes staring intensely into yours, silently asking for permission. Next thing you know he’s pulling you off the couch and dragging you to the bedroom, roughly pushing you to the bed. He wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing it gently to let you know he’s in charge tonight. If you even tried to be a brat for a second he would flip you over onto his lap and deliver a hard blow to your ass. He would rub it for a second, to help lessen the initial sting, before smacking it again and again until you apologize. He’d love having you a sobbing mess while you beg for his cock and forgiveness. He could never turn down his baby when you look and sound like that.
Changbin - Size Kink/Bulge Kink
Honestly never really thought about a size kink being a thing until I started reading it on Tumblr recently, but yeah Changbin definitely has it. While he knows he might not be the tallest, his muscles and cock make up for it. He’d have you laying on the bed, his tip teasing your entrance, “I know your pussy can fit my huge cock,” he’d say in a low voice. You push your hips forward in response, desperate to feel him stretch your tight pussy. He starts slow, just wetting his tip, the stretch from that alone has you crying out. “Fuck Changbin your so big.” He hovers over you as he pushes himself in deeper, you watch as his biceps flex by your face. Little moans leave your mouth as you welcome the pain and pleasure of having him stretch you. “Almost there baby, just a little bit more. I know you can take it.” Once fully inside, he wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off that little budge he sees in your tummy with each thrust.
Hyunjin - Public Sex 
I love the idea of public sex, but Hyunjin and public sex? Chef’s kisses. Hyunjin will gladly fuck his partner whenever and wherever he wants. Some of the places he’s fucked you include a changing room, the hiking trail, the back of a train, oh and don’t forget the time the two of you got stuck in an elevator. You often find yourself wearing skirts and dresses, not because it’s necessarily your style, but because it makes this fun you two have so much easier. This time it was in the movie theater, he purchased the two of you those fancy vip seats your theater has, seats big enough to allow you to sit comfortably on his lap during the movie. You brought a blanket with you to the theater as well, most people would assume you did this because of how cold the theater always was but that's not why you have it. You sat on Hyunjin’s lap, settling the blanket on top before doing anything else. Slowly, he undoes his pants and pulls out his cock, he gave it a couple tugs before he lifts you up onto it. You did your best to not make any noise as you sink down onto him. The theater was for the most part empty, but there were still a couple people near the front of the theater. He slowly but sloppily thrusts into you, careful to not make any noise.
Han - Somnophlia/Freeuse 
Tumblr really thinks Jisung is just a super horny perv. Like when this boy wants you, he will have you no matter what. Don’t worry though, you guys have a system to let him know when you’re willing to have sex. You put on that one shirt that gives him the signal he needs before starting to doze off on the couch. Jisung comes home after a long day of practice and all he wants to do is sink his cock into your pussy and forget all about his worries. He looks at you on the couch, you're sleeping in nothing but your shirt and panties, bare legs exposed. He pulls his cock out before hovering over your sleeping form. He slides his cock between your thighs, slowly rutting his hips. Gentle moans slip past his lips, he keeps up a steady pace as he indulges in pleasure. His moans turn to high-pitched whines the closer he gets to his high, the sounds from his mouth cause you to start to stir. You wake up to see Jisung over your body, sweat on his brow and his lip red from biting it. His thrusts pick up as his orgasm takes over, warm sticky cum covering your thighs.
Felix - Cock Warming/Premature Cumming 
I probably read the most Felix smut, I couldn’t just pick one theme for him. With cockwarming, it’s always while he’s busy gaming. He’s deprived you of attention for too long, even after all your attempts to pull him away from the screen he just won’t budge. You couldn’t handle waiting any longer so you decided to help yourself. “Felix, keep playing your game, just trust me,” He nods in response, his eyes still glued to the screen. You reach out to rub his member through his pants, you can feel him grow hard rapidly. You try to tug with sweats down, he lifts his hips up to aid you in taking his pants off, getting desperate to feel more. You remove your sweatpants and panties before straddling his lap, careful to not block his view of the game. You sink down onto him, you can feel him tense up for a second before continuing his game. You sit on his cock happily for the next few minutes while he finishes several more rounds in his game, satisfied you can finally feel full. Felix eventually starts to grow desperate for more, quickly losing interest in his game. His hands move from his keyboard to your hips before he thrusts up into you. He takes in all the precious sounds that leave your mouth, enjoying everything just a little too much.  Unfortunately, he reaches his high a bit sooner than he’d like, your pussy just feels too damn good. Don’t worry though, he would never leave you unsatisfied.
Seungmin - Perv!Seungmin 
I feel like I’ve seen this theme with him quite a bit, I’ve seen it with Han as well but possibly just a smidge more with Seungmin. Tumblr Stays seem to like to make this man absolutely obsessed with you. Some things he does include following you around, gifting you teddy bears with hidden cameras, and stealing your panties. He’s not always a full perv though, he’s also your best friend that you’d trust with your life. What Seungmin doesn’t know is that you know exactly every little pervy thing he does, you only act like you don’t know what he’s doing. Knowing this, you sometimes like to tease him. Some things you do include changing while he’s around, asking for his opinion on which set of lingerie you should buy, and slowly grinding against him while you sit in his lap. Imagine sitting on his lap as you two watch a show together, his arms wrapped around your waist as he buries his face into your hair. He’d be doing his best to hold in his moans while you shift on his lap, trying not to give away how much he’s enjoying everything. There was honestly no point in him holding in his moans, it’s not like you couldn’t feel his rock-hard cock against your ass. After a bit too much teasing, he eventually cums into his pants, a whisper-like moan slips past his lips with his orgasm. You pretend you didn’t know what just happened as he suddenly pushes you off his lap, excusing himself to the restroom.
I.N - Loud Sex/Exhibitionism
Being the baby member, Jeongin feels like he’s got something to prove to everyone, he wants to show off how much of a man he has become. One of the ways he does that is by making you scream and moan so loud during sex that all of the members nearby can hear it. One night, you were invited for a movie night while a couple of the other boys were at the dorm. After the boys ruthlessly teased Jeongin for having a partner, he decided he had enough. He picks you up off the couch and carries you to his room, slamming the door behind him. He rips off your clothes before ravishing your body. He sucks on your neck, leaving perfect little bruises, hoping the members would get to see you marked up later. One of his hands travels down to draw little circles on your clit, his other grabs your breast and pinches your nipple. You tried to hold in your moans, but your whole body felt overstimulated with pleasure. Jeongin whispers in your ear, “Don’t hold back your moans baby girl, let’s let them know how good I can make you feel.”
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fanaticsnail · 21 days
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Will You Let Me?
Masterlist Here, Pollen Masterlist Here
Word count: 4,500+
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Synopsis: Your crew was docked at a port, exploring a new land while you requested to remain behind. Enjoying being without the unruly bunch, your momentary calm was disrupted by the staggering step of your superior. Coughs, grunts and stuttering over his words: your concern grew more severe as you offered to help him through it.
Themes: pollen!killer x gn!reader, NSFW, mdni, 18+, smut, penetration reader!receiving, swearing, dubcon, begging, pleading, apologising, bruising, crying, rough, do not read if you do not enjoy the trope, fluff at the end, semi-ooc.
Notes: first time writing gn!reader smut! I enjoyed the challenge, but forgive me if there's a word that is used incorrectly! I am still learning inclusive language.
Pollen is a fun trope to play with, but please do not read if you don't enjoy.
Apprehensive Tag List: @sordidmusings @remisloves @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @since-im-already-here @mfreedomstuff @icy-spicy
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The hot sun shone over the wooden deck of the Victoria Punk. The soft waves gently rocked the boat with a subtle lull, the screech of gulls only aiding your heart to swell in merry solitude.
It was a rare occasion that you were tasked to remain behind while the crew explored a foreign area. Your skills as a linguistics specialist usually meant your silver tongue was called for to coax a good deal, or to decipher scratchings on cave walls. Considering this area was only a port meant for resupply, Captain Kid deemed your skills unnecessary for the journey in land.
Never one to complain, and genuinely giddy at the notion of being secluded and alone for a change, you jumped at the opportunity to stay with the Victoria Punk. You adored your ship, and decided to utilise the opportunity to check over her planks, ropes, and panels that may be in need for repair.
As the day went on, you did not expect a member of your crew to return so suddenly: especially the hulking masked figure of Massacre Soldier Killer. Being the first-mate, he was usually by Kid's side, no matter the circumstances.
Coughing, sneezing and sputtering: Killer’s right hand shot out to grasp your left shoulder. The firmness of his grip was bordering on painful, prompting you to wince in response to the hard strangulation of flesh.
“Something gross hit me in the face,” he strained from behind the teal and ivory mask, “Stuck in my chest and my throat. Not feeling good. Gotta-... fuck-... I gotta lie down or something.”
Concern and worry knit itself over your face, examining the staggering movement of Killer’s body as he retreated below deck. He stuttered and gripped onto the wooden beams, walls and ceiling to stabilize his movement: his body almost giving way beneath the pressure.
“Kil, do you need-,” you began, halting as his voice raised over the top of yours.
“-‘M fine. D-Don’t worry, ‘kay?” he called over his shoulder before disappearing below deck. His large figure seemed to both be inflated and deflated with a foreign paralysis in his choppy, staggered steps. The waves did nothing to sooth him in his glide throughout the halls.
As soon as he reached crew-quarters, he all but shredded his clothes and cast them away from his body. His skin was alite with violent lust, his hands moving against his will to fist, claw and paw at the erogenous zones of his torso, stomach, legs, and his puckered nipples.
He arched his back as his hands gripped the base of his already steel-like cock, immediately pumping it in his right fist. His left hand clawed at the flesh of his chest and lay flat over his heart as he felt the rise in fluttered rapidity.
Scraping and gripping downwards with his left hand, he pushed hard on the base of his stomach, feeling how tightly wound the banded coil was wound in the pit of his stomach: bound hard enough to snap. Every muscle was tense, firm and aching for relief. He began sniffling and sobbing behind his mask, never truly experiencing the shame in the desperation his body was craving before.
He was the only one who managed to not avoid the hessian bag of powdered flowers falling from the rooftop of the naturopathic remedy building. Apologetic calls echoed down from the roof before panic began to rise in the workers. Killer could scarcely process voices above the throbbing ache in his lower abdomen.
Barely hearing several repetitions of Kid’s voice calling: “Killer, are you alright? Kil, are you alright?” All Killer could do was splutter and cough through the burning in his chest.
Golden flecks danced over his eyes beneath the mask, the pollen sucked immediately through the holes and embedded several clusters within the circular orifices. No matter how many times he wiped at the mask with his hands, he continued to inhale the sticky-sweet smell of herbal flowers within deep gulps of his lungs.
“Get him back home!” a hushed voice hurriedly spat at Captain Kid, “He needs a companion, someone to take care of him while he's going through this. Someone caring and kind enough to-.”
“-Don't tell me what to do! Kil, you know the way back to the ship from here?” Kid’s voice barked at Killer, prompting the blonde to spark a moment of clarity in his progressingly foggy mind, “The linguist is back there. They'll take care of ya’ if ya’ need it, okay?”
“Okay,” Killer managed to stutter out, his body scorching hot and violently in need.
“Okay!” Kid parrotted back, looking at the shopkeeper, “Okay, great. Now that's settled, we need a couple things from you. Let's get that sorted before-."
As Killer continued fisting at his cock, he felt release on the tip of his tongue. His eyes were scrunched tightly shut and his lips were parted wide. Unbeknownst to him, each time he panted through his heavy inhales and exhales; more of the toxic pollen punctured his lungs and poisoned his bloodstream with arousal.
He was consumed with lust, a beast untamed and unbridled. There was no release for him, no relief that came thereafter. He was isolated, confused, scared and manic. He needed something, someone, anyone-.
“-No,” Killer spoke aloud in a strangled whisper, “Not anyone. I need the linguist. I n-need-... fuck-... I need my linguist. Where i-is my linguist?”
Continuing about your task of ensuring all of the ropes were properly coiled and laid, your heart began to pang with guilt. You decided to cast aside all further self-induced tasks and seek out the first-mate you serve beside, attempting to offer him comfort through his illness. He seemed so adamant about isolation, but you felt called to be by his side.
Venturing below deck, his painful strain of wanton moans called to you. Muffled groans of pain exhumed from the room, cries of anguish falling through the door. Your deepest sympathies clawed at you to push through the door. Your hand hesitated it's rise against the wooden panel, your body almost walking away before you heard a gentle and heartfelt cry of your name falling from Killers lips.
“I-If you're there,” Killer’s voice again called for you, “Please come in. Please,” he chanted your name with a soft, strangled moan, “Please. I need you.”
Immediately, your body moved against your will. Twisting the knob to crew quarters, you swung the door wide and was immediately met with the sight of your first mate: glistening in beads of sweat and shed of all but his teal and ivory face covering, and viciously pulling at his cock.
“Killer! Why did you tell me to come in if you were doing that?” you shouted in a harsh whisper, immediately slamming the door shut behind you and scrunching your eyes tightly shut, “I don't want to watch that!”
Thick silence aside from the cruel pistoning of his firm hand slapping against his lower stimach engulfed the air. Soft huffs of muffled pants escaped gritted teeth, Killer's mask doing the heavy lifting in silencing his cries for you.
“I don't want you to watch,” Killer confessed in a soft, breathy whine, “Please don't watch,” he keened for you, “Participate.”
“Killer!” you shot over your shoulder at him with a warning tone, “What are you-?”
“-I would never a-ask if I didn't-...” He trained off in a strangled whimper, desperately clenching down on his tongue with his teeth and biting back his needy sobs, “...I-I need you. I need you. Only you.”
“Kil,” you sighed at him, your concern written over you'd face, “Have you taken something? Was it the gross thing from earlier? Did that have an effect on you? Like a drug-?”
“-Look at me,” a barked command exited the holes in the mask, “Please, look at me,” he pleaded, gasping as he grasped at his cock, fisting the flesh and whimpering as he was brought to the brink of ecstacy once again, “Just look at me, please. I just need your eyes on me. Eyes on me.”
“Killer,” you whimpered, finally turning to face him. As soon as your eyes met with the icy stare beneath his mask, you were entranced. Your body propelled you against forward, called to serve the needs of the first mate in a hypnotic trance.
“I need you,” he sobbed, reaching for you with his left hand as his right continued beating his weeping cock, “Only you. Please, let me have you?”
Your body continued reacting against your will, your brain becoming foggy as Killer’s lust thickened the air with all-consuming need. Shame coursed just as heavily throughout your body as the arousal at just the thought of taking Killer’s cock into you began coursing through your veins.
“Please,” he whined, his eyes holding your own as you stripped yourself of your clothes, “Please,” his lips spilt as you straddled his lap, “Please,” as you immediately began sinking yourself down over the tip of his knob.
His precum did little to prepare you your your descent, focussing on your wanton need to have him within you to open your body up to receive him. Killer moaned your name, crying out with baited breath as you slowly consumed all of his length with the grip of your tight hole.
As soon as he felt your heat take his entire length, he was already a babbling mess. There was no strings of cohesive thought as his length became strangled within your tight center. He immediately began shooting your body full of ropes of thick release, ribbon after ribbon of his pale translucent ecstasy.
He cried out for you in warning before painting your walls white with his sticky cum. The pearly beads of his lust coated your tight hole immediately, strings of praise falling from his lips as he rode through his high with you fully impaled on his thick cock.
But he remained firm, hard and desperate for more.
“Wha-...” he began, his understanding of his own arousal and relief not aiding him in the slightest as he thrust up into you. He moaned as he sheathed his lengthy shaft deep within you again, your own arousal now taking over as you started to roll your hips against him while sat fully engulfed by him.
“Killer, what's going on?” you questioned him, your confusion and worry knit on your face, “You're s-still hard.”
“I-I am,” he confirmed, a soft mewl of bliss echoed beneath his mask as he rolled his hips up into you, “What’s happening to me?”
His hands found your hips, rocking you above him as he began feeling another wave of need course through his veins. As his hands embedded into your hips, you winced at the sting. His strength depicted in his grasp, gripping you like a lifeline anchoring himself to the world surrounding him.
He tried.
He tried so hard to be gentle.
He wanted to be gentle for you. Needed to be gentle for you.
But his grip turned sinister, turned brutal and unforgiving as he thrust up into you. His end was coming to a close as he chased it with you writhing and pleading on his lap. His desperation enticed him to continue bullying your tight center with vicious snaps of his bruising slaps.
“Kil,” you called for him, feeling his cock touch a depth within you that had your back arching and mewling for him, “Oh, Kil. I'm close.”
“Please,” he begged, desperately thrusting up into your lap as his end stampeded before his eyes, “Please cum. Please. N-Need it.”
“Killer,” you called for him, feeling the band weave ever tighter within your abdomen, spiraling and coiling within the pit of your stomach, “Kil I'm gonna-.”
“-Oh, fuck!” he roared, his body immediately betraying him as he coated your insides with ropes of hot, sticky, and heavy cum for the second time. His balls sucked up inside his body, his entire being screaming in relief as his release was once again began satisfying his unbridled lust for you.
But his cock still remained firm.
Your eyes clenched firmly shut, the corners wincing at the slight pinch as the coil snapped deep within you. White-hot ecstacy coursed through your veins, your body releasing your bliss over yours, and Killers, bodies as you rode through your high seated on his lap.
His hands were firm, rocking you atop him with a guiding, harsh rhythm as you called his name. Your whole being was alight with passion, your eyes now opening and looking down at the man beneath you.
Killer didn't realize it until he felt his eyes roll back in his skull, his body immediately ushered into a third orgasm as your body milked him with the rhythmic thumps of your warm orgasm. But he still remained firm, hard and needy. He inhaled a deep, shaky breath: particles of pollen immediately spiraling in a cylindrical vacuum deep into his lungs.
“I c-can’t,” Killer called for you, immediately grappling you in his arms. He threw you beneath him, his vice-grip clawing at your hips as he pummeled down into your body, “I can't stop, I can't stop, I can't stop.”
You bit back a whimper, your body barely recovering from the prior spend of your hot release. Overstimulated, ill-prepared and encumbered with your new task at hand: Massacre Soldier Killer never let up. Not even for a moment.
In fact, he only got more intense, ferocious and brutal the moment your body began to milk his cock.
“P-Please know I'm sorry,” he choked out a strangled whimper. His fingers ached with the intensity he was gripping onto you with, leaving punctures of purple intents over your hip bones due to the butality he was burrowing into you.
“O-Oh fuck,” you sucked in your bottom lip, biting down hard as the corners of your eyes began pricking with tears, “It's okay, it's okay. I know. I can t-take it.”
You spoke through those words of confirmation, truly attempting to convince yourself of the ability to endure this rough treatment for as long as Killer needed to use your body for. Rough slaps of his hips smacked against your body, his veiny cock scraping itself through your body as his knob hit angles you didn't realize you could experience. It would equate to bliss if his grip wasn't so intense.
Excruciating agony and white-hot ecstacy were in a perfect marriage within your body beneath the hulking form of Massacre Soldier Killer. The harmonious entanglement driven further by the grunts, growls, roars from the man above you, only for them to turn into begging whimpers and pleas for you to endure just a moment longer.
“I kn-know this isn't-... f-fucking nnghm-... this isn't g-good for you,” his breathy whisper cut through his growls like a pick through ice, “I can't stop. I can't fucking stop.”
“It's okay, Kil. I p-promise it's okay,” you grit your teeth as his grip intensified on your hips, "You're good. You're b-being so good." His rhythm was unforgiving, the pace and rate his body rut into you was tormenting, brutal and punishing.
This was not the first-mate you knew. The beast in his stead was as violent as Killer was in battle, ripping bones and slashing through flesh. This was not at all what you anticipated from aiding Killer through this feat of lust.
His desperation was abhorrent, something he was repulsed by. He never dreamed of joining his body with yours in this strenuous and savage manner. He wanted to be kind, always kind, only ever kind, should you grant him the access to you he so desperately longed for from afar.
Softly spoken, dutiful and almost loving. That's who you knew him to be, and that's who he wanted to be for you. Your friend, your comrade in arms, your senior serving crewmate who you trusted to have your back.
How would you ever trust him again after this? How could he ever trust himself? That push and pull of chasing his relief with you caged beneath him coincided with the tug of his heart and the fog of his mind. He wants you to trust him after this. He wants you to look him in the eye and tell him you still want him. He needed that from you; the confirmation this was not only simply for now, but something he could have once again.
“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” he sobbed into your neck, the cool surface of his mask grounded you. Huffs of his breath poked through the holes in his mask, his icy-blue eyes were scrunched tightly shut while his body remained alight like a beacon in darkness.
He had already reached his climax three times, shooting burst after burst of his sticky cum deep within you. Although relief was found immediately afterwards, his cock continued to remain stiff as the steel of a blade in a snow storm.
He just couldn't stop. Why couldn't he stop?
“Kil, I-I think you n-need-... ahh,” you mewled as he moved his hands up to your waist, his broad fingers splayed out to perch like a bird of prey against your skin. He rammed his full length in and out, your stomach beginning to ache with the bulge protruding deep within your abdomen.
“N-Need you,” he groaned in your ear, his hips stapling you against the floor with each cruel slap, “Need to keep going. Almost th-there again.”
“I know, Kil. I know,” you soothed his hair in your hands, trails of wet tears streaked your cheeks with how much sensations your body was taking, “Take what you need, I'm here.”
“I’m gonna-... I'm gonna- f-fuck. I'm gonna cum again,” he groaned deep within his mask, his voice picking up at the end in a small shuddery whimper, “Oh fuck, oh fuck. I'm cumming.”
Your head rolled back, eyes wide as you felt him empty himself within you for a fourth time. The sticky splashback of his hot cum trickled out of your needy hole, his cock buried up to the hilt with his spend leaking over his pubic hair and thighs. He huffed against your shoulder, his mask almost becoming loose over his face as he recovered.
“Good boy,” you cooed at him, pressing a soft kiss onto his bare shoulder as he shuddered and shook through his fourth spurt of ecstacy, “Good boy, Kil. Get it all out.” His cock twitched at your title bestowment, the hardness of his steely cock refusing to deflate no matter the amount of release he pumped into you.
“I-It’s not going down,” he whimpered into you, his hips beginning to roll against yours once more, “It's not going down. I don't know what to do,” his sobs began to shake at his shoulders.
“It's okay,” you winced out, feeling the heat of release exiting from your overspent body with ooze of fluid, “I-I think you need to take your mask off.”
“Wh-What?” he gasped at you, his hands continuing to hold you firmly against the mattress of his bed, “The mask off?”
“Some-... fuck, Kil-... something hit you in the face, ri-right?” your voice was several notes higher than your usual cadence, crying beneath him as he pummeled into you, “Might be still in your mask. Take it off. I'll close my eyes, I'll not tell a soul,” you winced, clamping your eyes tightly shut, “I'll be good. I'll tell no-one.”
Killer immediately halted his thrusting, his body in momentary stasis as your words reached him. His body screamed at him to keep going, to keep pummeling into you, to keep chasing his high that was just within reach. But he stopped, his cock sheathed deep within you.
“Look at me,” he purred down at you, his hands still firm on your waist. His grip grasped you tighter, misbehaving beneath Killer's pleading to hold you more gently.
Unclenching your scrunched eyes, you gazed up at him as his hands left your body and unclasped the mask from shrouding his face. Icy blue eyes, as pale as the sky and as deep as the ocean pierced you as his gaze met with yours. Your breath was stolen from within your lungs, choking back on your surprise at his appearance.
Massacre Soldier Killer was beautiful.
“Look up at m-me,” he stammered, his hips rolling against yours as his cock burrowed deep within your body, “Look at me. I n-need you to see me. I need you to see how desperately I need you.”
His eyelashes fluttered, his eyelids growing heavy as his rhythmic thrusts began to pick up their intensity. Your eyes never left his for a moment: not to look at his lips, not his beard, nor his angular cheekbones, nor his nose. His eyes were what captivated you most, holding you hostage as their glassy hue glazed over to chase his high within you.
“Y-You were right,” he huffed between thrusts, “My lungs aren't burning, and I-I think this is it. Th-This one is it.” His pace was excruciating, but the satisfaction you were beginning to feel build itself within you screamed at you to let him continue using you.
“You can do it, Kil,” you rolled your hips to match his pace, staring up through half-hooded lashes into his eyes, “Use me. Take me, I'm yours.”
“You're mine,” he moaned his growling voice down at you, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against your neck, “Perfect for me. Made for me.” His cock twitched deep within you, your body reacting to his needy chase and toppling over with his final release.
“F-Fuck, Kil!” you cried, your body beginning to throb, your thumps of bliss coaxing Killers balls to empty deep within, “I-I’m-... I’m cumming. Killer, I'm cumming!”
“Cum with me, cum with m-me,” he begged, his pace picking up as his cock finally began weeping it's spend for the fifth time deep within you, “With me. F-Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Pants of breath, fluttering of elevated heartbeats and joint cries of bliss ricocheted off the wooden walls of the crew-quarters of the Victoria Punk. Killer's mask lay discarded beside the door, lulling in the subtle rock of the waves over the floorboards as you both fell away from your mutual highs.
Killer moved his head away from your shoulder, gazing down to where your bodies remained joined together in awe. His lips were agape, his eyelashes fluttering as he pulled himself away from you. Watching the floodgates open from your abused entrance, your mutual juices coating both of your stomachs, thighs and soaking the mattress beneath you.
Killer looked to your hips, his lips parting and eyes becoming teary as he noticed the damage showcased on your body.
Marks littered your skin, deep hues of purple branded your flesh, depicting Killer's unrestrained lust and need for you. His bliss was eclipsed by deep sorrow as his fingers gently caressed the elevated indents in your skin. Sensing his unease, you immediately flung your hands up and collected his cheeks in your palms.
“I can handle it,” your eyes searched his, looking between his deep, blue orbs with your eyes only depicting support and affection, “I wouldn't have let you do it if I couldn't handle it.”
Killer turned his head, his lips meeting your palm with his whiskered chin tickling your flesh. This small moment of affection felt more sacred, more secret, and more intimate than the emassment of bodily fluids you shared moments prior.
“I shouldn't have been so rough with you,” he scolded himself, “I will never be rough with you again.” His fingertips caressed your hips, soothing over your aching flesh and wordlessly apologizing with deep, intentional touches.
“Are you feeling okay, Kil?” you asked him, lazily cocking your head to the side, “Don't need to go again?”
“Fuck, no,” he huffed through a small, squeak of laughter, “Not right now, at least.”
Smiling up at him, you propped yourself up on your elbows and gazed deeply into his eyes. You couldn't get enough of the luxury it was to gawk at the handsome man who just spent himself within you five times in consecutive succession.
He truly was beautiful.
“Does that mean you want to do this again?” you asked him while attempting to not show how eager you were. You began taking your time to examine his muscular physique before snapping your eyes back up to his blue orbs. A red hue tinted his cheeks, his eyes darting around the room before rejoining your own.
“I would like to, yes,” Killer admitted at last, sucking in a breath as he anticipated your refusal. Your smile spread up your face, prompting you to immediately spring yourself up to meet his body with your own.
“Crew’s still out for a while,” you shrugged, looking around the crew-quarters you had both tainted with the stains of your aroused fluids, “We should clean this up,” you drew your eyes up to meet his, coy and bashful, “And maybe we could have a bath together-?”
“-Please,” he spoke over you, far too quickly for his liking but too lost to hold back the floodgates of emotional excitement, “Let me bathe with you. I'll wash your hair, massage your body. I'll make sure you're so, so spoiled after all this, if you'll let me?”
A small squeal of joy found its way to your lips, buzzing at the notion that he not only wants to be with you again physically, but he desired to treat you to the luxury of continuing to gawk at his uncovered face further by bathing with you.
“Will you let me?” Killer asked, his voice still holding that eager anticipation that caused you to both melt and soar in unison. You eagerly nodded, prompting Killer to hook his arms beneath you and elevate you into his chest.
Your fingers quickly drew themselves up to his lengthy blonde hair, detangling the sweat-damp strands and toying with the soft curls framing his face. You hummed in contentment as his smile freed itself on his face, glancing at you as you continued enjoying his luscious, thick locks.
“Let's go then,” he cooed down at you, his lips finding your forehead as he cradled you against him, “Let me spoil you for being so good to me. I need to treat you right.”
“Don't forget your mask!” you quickly uttered, causing him to pause and search your face for clarification. You smiled at him, gently reaching your lips up to press against his cheek, “Gotta clean the damn thing, unless you want to experience all that again?”
“Good point,” he huffed, using his feet to kick along his mask to the bathroom as he chaperoned you within his arms, “I prefer my own desire to come from me,” he confessed as soon as he reached the door, “And I want to show you how much I truly do desire you.”
“I can't wait,” you smiled in return, wincing as your body’s adrenaline seeped out of your body and the pain caught up to you.
“I promise I'll be gentle with you,” he confessed, his eyes innocent and brows triangulating in a peak in the center of his forehead, “I won't be rough.”
“I can take a bit of rough treatment,” you challenged him in return, smiling into his bare chest as he began to run the bath.
“I know you can,” he smiled down at you, pressing a small kiss against your temple, “But you don't have to, unless you really want to.”
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fvcking-fae · 5 days
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Continuation/Part 2 of the Alien Scientists x Abducted Human
Here’s part 1
(CW; Reader is a female)
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You’re woken up softly by the lights slowly turning from dim to bright and the alien you’ve grown to recognize steps into your room (more like a weird hospital room) with a few supplies on a hovering cart. He says nothing as he replaces your empty nutritional iv bag that’s hooked up to your arm with a full one. You still can’t quite tell his emotions because of his “odd” face. No wrinkles, no facial hair including eyebrows and lashes. Only dark grey skin and… freckles?
He finally meets your eyes and you look away.
“How are you? I’ve learned from another human that your kind don’t always prefer being nude. Would you like me to bring you a robe of some kind?”
You nod. “But also…” You surprised yourself by speaking up.
“Also?”
“If possible… I’d like some kind of entertainment. Like books, or movies- film,” You corrected yourself, not knowing if they would understand “movies”. “Or I don’t know if you have internet.”
“We do a lot of reading. But because we spend so much time researching other galaxies and universes, we don’t particularly have… interest in film. That’s not to say I can’t get you access to a television and a variety of films and television programs. And yes, “internet”. We call it something else and use it for different purposes but they’re the same basic thing. I’ll also get you access to earth internet since ours would be useless to you.” He spoke and explained all while adjusting your nutrition and monitors. He looked at you again. “Anything else while I’m here?”
“Um…” Your mind wandered. There was no use asking for food since they had you hooked up to those bags all the time and the other “needs” you had were being experimented regularly, but still.
“Could I… use that thing again?” You shyly pointed to the machine with the alien penis that pumped into you last time. You grew more comfortable asking about it since you knew he was a scientist and wasn’t exactly attracted to you. Just doing a job.
He looked over at it and smirked. “You’re asking this time. Interesting. Are you one of the humans I’ve heard of that’s “hyper sexual”?”
You felt yourself blush and shrugged.
“Hmm. I suppose I could let you use it for fun. Would you mind if we observed you while you use it?”
“I guess not… what’s the research for?” Now that you’re actually thinking about it, you’re curious.
“Well, we’ve found that the female human body is the perfect incubator besides our artificial ones. We prefer an organic incubator so we use humans.”
“You can’t carry the… fetus? Eggs?”
“Eggs. Usually two.”
“Your females can’t carry them?”
He was silent and sighed. “If I went into any more detail, I’m afraid it would upset you. But what I can say is, our research shows that if we use copious amounts of pleasure instead of all the needles and things that earth births require, humans tend to carry healthier eggs and deliver them with less pain.”
You nodded as if you really understood everything he said.
“I promise you it’s not worth your human mind to think about. Just know that your species is not being harmed or genuinely affected by our actions. And that you’re safe. You personally won’t be used as an incubator. Especially if you ask not to be.”
“Wouldn’t you just use that aphrodisiac on me again and change my mind?”
“I could…” He looked at you seriously. “But I won’t. That is exclusively used for human pleasure.” He stepped away from your health monitors and touched the restraints hanging from your bed. “That said, do you still want to use the machine?”
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wh1msic4alwasab1 · 10 days
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𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐞𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
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synopsis: you act like a brat so diluc bends you over the bar counter at angels share with people drinking upstairs :)))
tags: vulgar language, voyeurism, edging, no protection, degradation, orgasm denial
wrd cnt: 1.1k+
a/n: rewrite/repost from first acc!
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Imagine getting a little too tipsy at angels share during the later hours of the night.
You’ve taken far too many shots but how can you resist when it just gives you more chances to see Diluc pour you that drink, watching his eyes pierce yours for just a second and his veiny hands grip the bottle so tight before the liquor drips down.
You and diluc have…a history, and he's not scared to act shy about it like you thought he would.
In the heat of your buzz, you've shown him too much attitude for him not to fuck you quiet if you're being too loud for the guests upstairs.
You know he likes it, but he'll still stuff your mouth with his cock if he needed to keep you quiet.
"Y/n, I won't ask again, please lower your volume."
His demanding gets you stirred, "or what?...you'll kick me out?" You say, brows in a comical state while you lean forward, cup in hand and slightly spilling the alcohol down your wrist.
"Stand up."
His demeanor had changed, half of you didn't believe he was serious but the other half didn't want to cause a real issue with him. You slowly stand up now off the bar stool.
"Come here." He beckoned.
You begin to move your body towards the small door that separates the back of the bar area with the rest of the pub, but he stops you.
“No, that is for employees only. Climb."
With confusion but not too much question you do as you're told, chuckling at his ridiculous request. You raise up your knee to the bar, and sit onto the table before climbing all the way to the other side facing Diluc directly, his gaze does not leave you, and his arms remain crossed.
He looks at your lips and begins to speak.
"You listened now, so why not the other times? If you're going to be a brat here of all places- then you'll be treated like one.”
You don't believe him, Diluc? in public? He'd never have the guts.
"Yeah right, I dare you." You challenge.
Diluc looks at you for a second, but not a second longer, now that he's grabbed your waist and turned you around. Your hands behind your back; gripped together by his right hand and his left glued to your hip, pushing your ass against this hard cock. You can feel your own tits pressed up against the cold wood of the table as Diluc starts to lower his hand down your thigh and lifts up your slip dress, revealing your ass.
Anyone could walk down at any moment and see the two of you, but you didn't care and evidently so didn't he.
You smirk and joke with him, how surprising he's being considering how vanilla he's been up til this point. He gives your ass a spank and you gasp, feeling the weight of his big hands on you; hearing him chuckle.
"So y/n, are you finally going to listen to me?"
"Hmm..! don't think l've learned my lesson yet…Master Diluc~"
Diluc bends down towards your arching back, his face close to your ear.
"If you want me to fuck you then you have to ask for it"
You freeze, is this actually Diluc? Hearing his harsh demands made you so...wet, you wonder if he can feel you throbbing because of his voice.
When you don’t reply immediately, he pulls your panties up and creates a tight fit, making them disappear into your lips and grind against your clit, making you jump and grind against him.
"Please Diluc", you pleaded.
After he's gotten the say so, your panties are practically ripped off and your raised up, now standing up against him with your hands released. Diluc sits you up on the bar and the rest of your clothes get torn off.
A sloppy make out begins as he trials his tongue down your body, sucking your hard nipples and leaving marks anywhere he wanted.
He spreads your legs as wide as they can go, ankles propped up on the bar and you can feel his fingers slip right into your folds, pumping his digits vigorously when his lips finally meet your cunt. You can't help but raise your hand to your mouth, the feeling of him sucking on your throbbing clit while his fingers fuck you so deep just might make you pass out.
You grip onto his red hair and push his face deeper into your heat, his groaning just makes everything even hotter.
You can feel your body heating up, and you know you're close; so does Diluc.
Of course, as soon as you're about to finish, his hands are completely off and out of you.
"What the hell? Why did you do that?"
"You asked to be taught a lesson didnt you?, This is me teaching you."
You're stunned, still sitting bare on this mans counter, you can't stop now.
You're practically begging diluc at this point.
"If I do, will you behave?" Diluc asks.
Agreeing happily, you pull him back to you with your legs. You pull him closer to you and begin removing his belt, ridding him of his clothes and watching his thick, long, absolutely gorgeous cock spring out of his pants. Diluc picks you up, setting you down as you feel your feet down on the floor again.
Being as eager as you are, you start pumping him up and down, swiping your thumb across the head of his member and licking his precum off your finger.
Diluc was just trying to teach you to be quiet, but he was just as messy for you as you were for him.
He can't help but turn you around again and bend you over. He can't help but admire the way your ass fits perfectly against his cock. He can't help but kiss along your back while rubbing his tip against your sweet pussy, his sweet pussy.
After his kissing, he's inserting himself inside your hole, your hand instantly finds its way to your face, but it's slapped away by Diluc, as he inserts two of his fingers into your mouth, that you gladly suck and drool on.
Truly, it's the only thing keeping you quiet and not letting everyone hear how good Diluc is thrusting his perfect cock into you. You squirm and push your ass even deeper into his cock, wanting him to fill you up so deeply with his warm cum. Your entire body is shaking as your knees begin to give out as he's fucking you so well.
"You love being treated like this don't you? Love when I fuck you like this? I bet you want everyone to hear you, seeing you beg for my cum inside your needy pussy."
You can't even babble coherent words back to him, you just tighten around his cock even more at his vulgarity.
He's even closer watching you squirm.
You feel your orgasm coming back, and you can tell Diluc is struggling to keep himself oriented.
Eventually, Diluc is spilling everything inside of you while you thank him for it.
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whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.
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needlereads · 10 days
Text
Primal Functions
dark!Steve Rogers x reader
Warnings: 18+ only, explicit, non-con, breeding, bondage
A/N: woooo. this intrusive scenario would not leave my brain. continuation of Hardwired.
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He had your hands tied up, out of the way. The rope looped under both your knees, keeping your legs folded up. It gave Steve the most delectable view of your pussy, ripe and sensitive from the two times he had already pressed his thick cock into your hole to fill you with his cum.
He hadn't fucked you. No, as punishment, Steve was forced to jerk himself close to completion and only then did he thrust into you to deliver his seed. It minimized stimulation and pleasure for you, all while allowing him the alluring view of your body, your dips and curves, begging for his attention.
You had tried crossing the boundary of his property again. So here you were, all trussed up, the better to learn your lesson.
For a while, Steve left you untouched. Only spread open and at his disposal. He jerked at his cock, drinking in the sight of you, until he was at the edge, and only then did he push into you so his cum found home in your ripe cunt.
He slowly stroked his cock, still hard and eager for you. He had managed not to fuck you this long. But at this point, your naked body laid at his mercy tempted him beyond his control. Throw in your teary eyes gazing up to him, and well, Steve was only a man in love.
"See? When you're bad, we both hurt. I can't give you the loving you deserve." Even flushed with arousal, he stayed stern. "All I can do is treat you like the bad little doll you are." He didn't prefer treating you like his little cumdump, but you had pushed him to this.
And now, you were unable to resist the lust he stoked in you -- from his bare, adonis form looming over you, to his cock covered in slick that pumped cum into you while leaving you unsatisfied.
Your struggle had grown weak. Steve made sure the bonds kept you in place for the most part; the little wriggling that you managed with your hips, well, you were a vision that fueled Steve's desire.
"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, then sheathed himself in you, sighing as he watched your tight hole take him in. "So fucking pretty."
He kneaded you hip, caressed your calf. Hungry for you, his tongue traced the undercurve of your breast, salivating for the fullness of your tits. You arched into the heat of his mouth. Your legs tensed. You couldn't help the relief, the yearning, your skin ached for contact.
He sucked the point of your breast, forcing a whimper from you. In that softly dangerous purr, you could hear him.
"This is what you need. Isn't it...Look at you." He left wet kisses up your shoulder. He groaned, grinding against you. Your wrecked sigh had him huffing a laugh. How could you fathom being apart from him when he made you feel so good.
His fingertips teased down the back of your thigh, sending tingles though you. You could not resist stirring some more. Even the smallest shift from you changed the pressure of your pussy around his cock, so that Steve's head dropped back. His grip on your hip tightened, making you whine.
His thumb lightly played at your clit. You panted, as he added more pressure, and stayed buried deep. You grew hotter, his torture on your clit drawing pleasure higher.
Jaw tight, he soaked in your breathy sounds. That relentless friction on your clit finally drove you over the edge. Your orgasm had your body stiffening, your cunt pulsing around his shaft so deliciously. He was done holding back. A sob escaped your lips and Steve reveled in it.
Growling, Steve pulled back and thrust hard into you. "God, sweetheart. You drive me crazy, taking me so good." He worked his hips, driving into you hard, making you cry out. "I'm gonna fill you up so much."
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onelittlespiral · 9 months
Note
You should make a top to bottom story!
FML: Worship
He had always been a great gym crush. When I was getting my pump, he would consistently be just a few machines over. His fiery hair and muscles glistened as he moved through his reps. I always worked a little harder when he was there, even though I knew it wouldn’t work. We had hardly ever exchanged words, but the few we had let me know he was straight as an arrow. I was a stacked guy myself, and I knew that there were countless twinks who would fawn over the chance to get with all this:
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But I wanted him. I started slowly working up the nerve to talk to him, and was shocked to learn he knew my name
“Yeah man, I’ve seen you round here. You’ve got some sick gains, you’ve got to let me know your routine!”
From there, I decided to make a plan to ensure he would become mine.
I found a video that promised to create a “Gym Bro to Perfect Sub” out of any guy who watched it. It’s description promised that a single whiff of their dom would leave them madly in love and obedient. I told him that we should meet up at my place for some prep before hitting the gym together tomorrow. He was happy to oblige.
When he came over I quickly welcomed him in and ushered him to the couch. He sat patiently as I told him I had a tutorial for the routine set up to show the proper form. I cued up the video and left the room, turning back just to make sure it was all going according to plan. In just a few seconds, he was grinning stupidly as he fell under the spiral’s control.
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As he fell deeply into a trance, the programming began:
You put in so much work bro. You should lean back and relax.
Intuitively, he leaned back on the couch, putting his feet up and hands behind his head. He had been really overworked the last few weeks.
Sit back and feel your body. Notice the feeling of muscle squeezing. Smell your body radiate heat and sex through stale deodorant. Feel the power you have. The power to change the world around you.”
He grinned as the feeling of masculinity flowed through him. He felt his muscles ache from yesterday’s workout. He had banged hard the night before and his musk was definitely not being held back by yesterday’s Axe. But the ladies loved it. He could pull just about any chick he wanted, do anything he wanted. He was a king.
You think about the person you see yourself as. But that’s not quite true, is it?
What? Nah man, he knew he was the shit. He was… he was… wasn’t he?
That’s not who you are. That’s who you could be.
As his self-perception popped, his body began to follow suit. His mature scowl began to take on a more boyish smirk. His once imposing stature shrunk down as he felt a bit more awkward and out of place. He still had potential though. Plenty of time to grow. He still worked religiously on his body to keep it plenty strong.
That’s the kind of men you look up to. Big powerful biceps. Pecs firm. Asses bubbly and tight. Cool, assertive personalities. Thick dicks to back it all up.
Y…no… yesss. That’s right. How silly of him. His arms deflated from buff to, generously, toned. His pecs shrunk down into his chest. His glutes lost tone as they became firm but small. His body sweat at the effort of losing years of hard work as muscle evaporated off of him.
This isn’t even the man you want to be. This is the man you want to be with.
At this moment, his mind flicked to his new mentor. He was promising to show him how to get shredded like him. The way his muscles glistened as he worked out… The way he towered over small guys like himself… The way his hair curled around his pecs and into those pits and captured his raw smell…
A hard on quickly developed, throbbing at the new feelings of lust. He began gently rubbing, imagining how good it would feel to pound his crush’s ass as any memories of straight life began leaking out his tip.
Men like that don’t need competition. They need relief from all the gym bros. They want a little bro. A boy toy.
All at once the need moved from his pole to deep inside. A deep itch he could never reach. A high pitched moan escaped as his ass felt so empty and needy. His thoughts of topping were drained away as he felt his ass reshaped to take cock. Any fight left in him melted away as the need to be fucked consumed his mind.
They deserve worship. They demand obedience and submission.
His mind, effectively broken at this point, slowly began to rebuild itself with one goal in mind. To bring pleasure. To serve. To feel a man use him as a tool for pleasure. He needed to submit. The spiral pushed on.
Good boy. You are ready for your new purpose. Your big, smelly gym bro will walk in soon and come to claim you. As his presence envelopes you, you will see him as yours. You will serve him so well and he will take care of you in turn.
He was ready. His mind emptied of any remaining thoughts but service and pleasure.
Good Boy.
His brain felt a warm wave of joy flow over it. He wanted to behave.
So submissive.
God he needed his dom, he needed to submit.
Perfectly happy, dumb, ready to serve.
Yeah, sooooo… happppppy… so… empty…
Now wait.
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I walked into the room to his mouth still stuck agape, mind empty and happy. As my feet hit the floor, he came to, and looked over at me. I could feel his gaze trace my body as just my presence began to change his brain chemistry. “Get over here boy. ”
“Hiiii… oh god… fuuuuuck”
I walked over, picked him up off the couch, and pressed him against the wall.
“Yeah babe, take it all in. You’re much cuter. Daddy has been waiting far too long for this. I want you on this dick now,” I growled.
I watched as his mind was overtaken again, the programming taking over as my scent consumed him and my fur pressed against his body. His gaze was pure longing as he savored the scent that would become his world.
“Yes sir.” His breath was quick and heavy as his small hard on pressed against my stomach. He was drooling over my body as his tongue rolled out his mouth. He practically melted in my embrace, perfectly submissive.
“Good.” I carried him to the bed room, ready to give my new boyfriend the workout I had promised.
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puppygirl-bixxi · 4 months
Text
i think wearing a shock collar and being trained to be the perfect puppy for my owner would fix me.
need to learn how to rut properly, to hump a girl’s leg just enough so that i almost cum. but, my owner takes it away at the last moment every single time. getting a swift shock through my body if i continue. all i can do for her is grind my hips uselessly against whatever she commands me to use. her thighs, her pillow, her abs, or even the friend she brought in to show off her new puppy to. she even gives them the remote to my collar to see what tricks i can do…
all the while this poor pup is forced to whine, beg, and bark. leaking again and again and again for my owner. every zap of electricity forces me to stop. it messes with my brain, i lose focus every time she does it. whenever i build a tolerance, all she does is go up to the next level.
zzt! zap! zzzz! zhht!
eventually, i can’t even wear panties properly without the friction making me excited. my mistress owner forcing them off of me once she sees what it’s doing to me. “puppies don’t need human clothes,” she says “you just bark for mommy… you serve her.”
before i get a change to uselessly beg, she tugs on my leash. i yelp and bark, and i try to open my mouth to ask her to let me cu- ztt!
-the thought… i can’t remember anymore. she leads me by the leash to my dog bed. it’s all messy, it smells like wet fur and precum. i want to sleep with her, it’s safer up in her sheets. i struggle and be- zzt! -but i- zap! -plea- zzttt!!
when i wake up, i can’t remember what’s happening… i something. i try to move my paws, but suddenly they’re slammed back onto bed (the bed!) by familiar, tender hands. she’s gripping so tightly, i can’t move my arms. i try to bark but end up whining and moaning.
then.. the rest of my senses come back. i can feel her again and again… she’s pumping her cock inside of me. i can feel how she stretches me out. how bolts of pleasure make me writhe underneath her. i haven’t stopped leaking since she started using my body. all i get to do is drool all over the sheets as she uses her puppy for her true purpose: a cocksleeve.
building and building, her dick throbbing inside of me. i need it i need it i need it, is all that whispers in my brain. it comes out as useless barking and whining. “i’m gonna fucking cum, puppy… make mommy proud, cum with me.. squirt all over like a good pup should!”. she pounds into me and i can’t help it, i never could, there’s no more collar to stop me. with one final thrust she sheathes inside of me, warmth flooding through as i finally let go. i’m shaking and crying as i cum all over her perfect bedsheets. our two seeds dripping together underneath my legs. it keeps going and going and going.. i can’t stop almost. it feels like it goes on forever, for too long. it makes my brain go blank… the only thing lighting up my brain being pure, blissful, pleasure.
by the time i wake up, i only hear one noise
zzt!
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eclecticqueennerd · 9 months
Text
Soldier Boy as a Girl Dad
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Ben was elated when he learned he was going to be a dad. He saw it as a chance to have something he never got when he was a kid. He was disappointed to learn that you were having a girl, but once you gave birth man oh man did his worldview change drastically.
Ben’s view was the woman to stays in the home and pumps out babies while the man goes to work and brings home the bacon. Ben was always a misogynistic ass, less so with you, but now he was just an ass. He did not want his daughter to grow up in a world where she was only treated as a Broodmare. No, he wanted her to rule the world.
Early on he taught his daughter how to fight and protect herself from bullies, which would occur due to her dad being a supe. You’d often tell Ben to stop, “Ben, we have to talk to the teachers and let them handle it.” “Oh, come on y/n, you know how they handle bullying there. No daughter of mine is going to be a damsel in distress.” It wasn’t until you got a call from the elementary school principal saying that your 6-year-old daughter punched her bully at school. You went to get your daughter from the principals’ office and as you left with your daughter and Ben in tow, you heard him say, “Show me where you punched him.” Out of the corner of your eye you’d see your daughter make a fist and place it on Ben’s chin. Ben let out a loud chuckle, “Atta girl.”
Pre-Teen years were awful. Your daughter became less of a daddy’s girl and more of a bratty teenager. Whenever Ben would try to connect with her, he was always met with attitude, eye rolls with constant saying of ‘that’s so lame’. You’d back Ben up by telling your daughter to snap out of it, but was met with hostility, “What are you going to do about it mom? You’re just a normie.” By this time her powers were developing, and strength was one of the first skills. It wasn’t until Ben had to save her from a supe terrorist, who fucked with the wrong dad, that her attitude towards the two of you changed.
Teen years your daughter became more mellow and hung out with the two of you more. Ben even taught her how to spar and use her powers appropriately. He’d teach her how to drive and how to do her math homework. “What do you mean they want you to do it that way, my way is easier.” “It’s called Common Core math dad. Everyone has to learn it.” Every time Ben helped her with math, he’d become frustrated and soft glowing would emit from his chest. You quickly found a tutor for your daughter, as we don’t need another explosion like Moscow happening again.
When it came to your daughter’s first date, Ben almost blew a gasket. “We should talk to her about safe sex.” “SAFE SEX?!” “Yes Ben. Teenagers have sex and we need to prepare her and make sure she understands that protection is important.” Suffice to say you handled that conversation. When the boy came over to pick your daughter up, he made the poor mistake of cracking a joke, “We’ll sir I’m surprised you’re not sitting there cleaning a gun with how your daughter talks about you.” “Son, I don’t need a gun to kill you.” Ben scared that poor boy off after the first date.
When your daughter left for college, Ben was trying his best to keep his shit together. Watching her car drive down the road you ask, “Was it everything you were hoping it would be?” Ben chuckles, pulls you close, and wipes a tear trailing down his cheek. He said, “Better than what I could have hoped for.”
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kakushino · 9 months
Text
Control
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Himejima Gyomei x AFAB! Reader
Denying your Master is a big no-no.
Tags: brat tamer! Gyomei, brat! Reader, slight dub-con (but everything is consensual with an established safeword), creampie Word count: 2,7k
Masterlist
@gingerspicelattemix here you go, friend
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His voice didn’t change cadence nor volume. You weren’t so sure you could handle him if he was truly irritated, which made you glad he understood why you couldn’t just stop in the middle of training to have a quickie. Never mind that with Gyomei it was never one, it took time to even take three of his fingers, and his cock was bigger than that.
“You’ve really driven me wild, you know that? You have no idea how much I want you right now… But I will respect your wishes.” For now, he finished the sentence in his mind.
“Thank you, Gyomei,” you smiled at him, wiping away the sweat from your forehead. 
It was too hot here, so you shrugged off your jacket before you continued, leaving you only in a damp white uniform shirt. 
Your grunts of effort and heavy breathing filled the courtyard again quickly, taunting him, making him stop on the engawa right before the shoji doors. Gyomei palmed his tightening crotch, the sounds just getting to him today though he didn’t know why.
He needed you, yet you denied him; him, your Master. That would not do.
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He sighed, “Kitten, this is how it’s gonna go. You will receive your punishment. If you continue being a brat, I will just have to up my game. Sound fair?”
The question was rhetorical. Before a thought could form, you were bent over his lap. One of his hands kept a tight grip on your obi, so you wouldn’t be able to wiggle away, and the other hand was pushing your yukata up up up. He briefly lifted you, with the one hand holding your obi belt, to flip the bottom of the yukata over, exposing your panties, already a little wet from your juices at his manhandling.
“Gyomei~” You tried to struggle, but it was in vain. He was much stronger than you. 
And he wasn’t afraid of using such strength against you. Your panties were shredded in one smooth move, the scraps laying on the ground. “Hope you weren’t attached to those.”
You pouted. “Those were my favorite…”
“Liar,” he said calmly. “I always know when you lie, [Name]. You should know better than to lie to me.”
His fingers trailed over your backside right to your core, feeling how wet you were. 
“I think you forgot one thing as well, kitten.” 
One of his thick finger tips slid inside your opening teasing you just as much as you teased him before.
“I’m not Gyomei to you now.”
He pumped just the tip of his finger into you slowly, the stimulation simply not enough.
“Call me Master.”
You whined loudly, trying to move, to fuck yourself back on his finger, anything, but the hold he had on you didn’t budge in the slightest. “Please-”
“Please, what?” he asked sternly, ceasing his movement. 
The dry sob you gave out echoed in the room. “Please, M-Master! Please more!”
Gyomei chuckled. “Only because you asked so politely…” He slipped not one, but two knuckles deep into you. You let out a wail in frustration. “Are you learning your lesson?”
“I’m so sorry! Please-!”
“You’re a mess, kitten. I’ve barely touched you. See,” he leaned a bit closer to you, his lips nearly at your ear, he spoke in a whisper, “This is what happens when you disobey your master, you brat.” He continued to tease you on his finger, curling it just under your g-spot. You tried to wiggle, to protest, to force more out of him but you remained right where you were, his grip on your obi too steady to allow you any movement.
A few tears gathered at your eyelashes from frustration. “Gyomei…”
He tutted. “What did I say before? …Maybe if you had been good, you wouldn’t be such a whimpering slut begging for more.” The finger left your needy pussy with a loud schlick following his words.
“Master!” you whined loudly. “Please please please, I need more. I swear I can handle it, just please- Master-!”
“So now I’m master, hm?” Gyomei taunted you, voice even yet seeming so cruel to you. “Pathetic. You’re all bratty until I put you in your place. How cute.”
His heavy giant hand descended through the air, giving your ass a harsh spank. You cried out at the stinging pain, even as his rough palm soothed the quickly reddening spot.
“You think you can handle it? Handle me?” Another sharp smack echoed in the room, and you received a matching spank on your other asscheek.
“Yes, please, M-master, please… I’m a good girl, I deserve more fingers,” you pleaded to him, trying to sound as pathetic as you could, hoping he’d take pity on you. Your sopping wet pussy needed something to fill it up.
Instead of answering Gyomei did something he never had before during your sex life. He shoved his fingers inside - not one, not two, but three at the same time. 
“Ah!” You yelped from the burning stretch. “Master, no!” You hadn’t felt this kind of pain since the first time you took him inside of you. You gritted your teeth and tears spilled down your cheeks in quick succession. 
“Hmm, your pussy is so obedient, taking all three at the same time. You could learn from her. I bet your cunt could take me before, you were just too stuck up to help your Master out, denying me.” He marveled at how tight you were, how slippery and smoothly you took his fingers despite the obviously painful intrusion. “I gave you what you asked for, kitten. Thank me for it.”
More tears came out as he moved his fingers, your pussy stretched to the absolute limit. “Than-thank you, M-Mast-er,” you stuttered between hiccups.
In, and out, he forced you to take what he gave. Your hands clenched into fists, covering your flaming hot face with them. It burned, it stung and, though you were ashamed of it, it made you even wetter than you were before. Pitiful whimpers broke free of your throat, slightly muffled by your fists, as you panted. You’d given up on moving against him, whether to fight back or to try to get more.
“Do you want me to stop? Be a good girl and answer that for me.” 
His gravelly voice broke through the haze of your mind. You noticed his fingers stayed buried in your cunt, giving you a moment of reprieve. You shook your head no.
“Use your words, kitten,” he said in a strained whisper, his hands steady but his hard bulge twitching against your side. He knew he could destroy you if he was just a little bit harsher, a little bit rougher, but he didn’t want to do that. He wanted you to shatter on his cock, not break apart in his hands.
You calmed your breathing a little more, Gyomei’s warmth against your side grounding you into the present. “I’m alright, Master. You don’t have to stop.” The rest you got from this brief exchange was more than enough for you and your walls spasmed around his fingers when he shifted a little. Pleasure shot through your body like lightning. “Ah!”
“You’ll be good then? Show me what a good kitten you are?” You could practically hear his smile as he asked you that, starting to move his fingers again, curling them against your g-spot. 
You jolted in his hold involuntarily. “Fuck!”
“Tsk. That’s some naughty language there. Didn’t I just say you need to show me you’re a good kitten?” His thumb swept down to your clit, pressing on it harshly. 
Your lips fell open in silent scream and your hands clenched on the futon. You couldn’t squirm an inch away, his other hand holding you down with no effort. It was too much and you couldn’t escape.
Gyomei set a steady pace with his fingers, rubbing your sweet spot with just the right amount of pressure, his thumb letting up on your nub, circling it gently instead. Your moan got cut off, overwhelmed with the way he controlled you. “This is much better, isn’t it?” 
All you could do was breathe heavily, clutching at Gyomei’s pant leg, completely incoherent despite him basically just starting. It was so much, but just right - taking you step by step closer to Heaven with each movement of his hand.
“Don’t tell me you’re already losing your mind, kitten? I’ve barely even done anything to you…” The tight knot of pleasure threatened to snap any second. Just as you were on the precipice of your release, Gyomei withdrew his fingers. You let out a high-pitched keen of disappointment. 
“Calm down, kitten. Even if you’re good, you still need to learn your lesson. You did deny me, after all,” he placated you with an even tone. His fingertips teased your cunt with a feather-light touch making you flinch from the sensitivity and try to chase his touch. “Times like these make me wish I had my sight - you’re a mess, a mess I’d love to see.”
You whined, “Please, please- I need more, I need to cum. Please, Master!”
Gyomei hummed, “You cum when I allow you to.” He finally let go of his tight grip on your obi. “Get up and strip.” 
You rushed to get up and obey despite the shakiness of your limbs, haphazardly shucking your yukata off. “Master, please, I’ve been good. Please, I need your cock, Master,” you said breathily, need practically dripping from your voice, eyes wordlessly pleading. You were ready to beg on your knees.
A drawn-out sigh interrupted more of your groveling. “To bed.”
No more instructions were needed. 
Gyomei had never been a truly cruel lover, nor did he intend to start. When you begged so sweetly, wanting to please him and be pleased, how could he do anything else than deliver?
His frame completely overshadowed yours on the bed as you laid there, legs spread and ready to cradle his hips. An ominous giant about to eat up his victim in one big gulp; except he was not eating you tonight, though the decadent thought did run through his mind - to tease you more, to edge you along until you were crying.
The desire to fill you up was stronger than whatever fleeting impulse flitted through his head. His clothes came off piece by piece, each carefully folded and set aside gently; Gyomei was fully in control - in contrast to your messiness before. 
You trembled when he finally slotted himself in his rightful place - between your legs.
That was it, there was no escaping now. 
The leaking tip of his cock teased your entrance gently, making you whimper with need. You were about to start begging again when he pressed inside in one slow and smooth thrust. His quiet grunt was nearly hidden by your high-pitched moan at the feeling.
His hands circled your waist, holding you down as he set a slow pace, letting you feel every inch of him. Every time he bottomed out, your breath got knocked out of you, his tip pressing harshly against your cervix. 
Gyomei noticed, of course he did. His thumbs were near your belly button, he could feel it. “You pretty little thing. Look at this. See how far I can reach?” 
You forced your head up and there it was - a very pronounced bulge in the shape of his monstrous cock. “Oh sweet Lord-” Your pussy walls clenched at the sight, making him groan and buck his hips.
"You like that? Like how deep I can go?" he panted out, desperately trying to keep the pace the same but it was futile - your pussy felt too divine to go slow. 
And he did promise to tame your brattiness.
You could feel him practically in your throat when he sped up, the wet sounds of skin slapping against skin a harmonic rhythm as old as time. Your legs trembled with each thrust, your cunt squeezing the life out of his cock.
“Close?” He asked, a few tears slipping down his face from the pleasure. “You can’t cum til I tell you to, kitten.”
Gyomei folded your legs more, leaning over and nearly laying on your body, each drag of his member stimulating your sweet spots. The pace tipped from so much, so good to too much very quickly.
“You’re not playing fair-!” you choked out, clutching at the sheets under you.
“Actions speak louder than words with you it seems. You were so obedient before, no back-talk…”
He was holding your hips with his hands, your legs hanging over his forearms; you were utterly caged and trapped underneath him, completely immobile and at his mercy. He needed  more though, needed to find another way to grasp you, to possess you. The only thing he could do was bite your neck like an animal, and with the way he was fucking you, he might as well be one.
So he did - he bit your shoulder, hard.
You became detached, deep inside your mind in a special space, able to perceive only him and the mixture of pleasure and pain he brought; your Master, your punisher and your God. “Feels so good-” you groaned loudly, breath hitching right after as you struggled to follow his command and not cum before he allowed you to. “Can I-? Can-?”
Gyomei let go of your flesh, blood beading up on your skin, which he licked away. “Not yet, kitten. A little more-” he said breathlessly, his own release approaching quickly.
His thrusts grew sloppy, absolutely lewd sounds echoing in the room, sweat making your hair stick to your body. If you had a thought in your head right now, you’d admire how he kept a tight - bruising - grip on you despite the slick skin.
“Take. it. all! Youcancome-!” he choked out with a loud moan, an earth-shattering orgasm washing over him, filling you up with near buckets of his cum. “Ngh, kitten-!”
You could not move, yet your body found ways to grow taunt - thighs shaking, eyes rolling back, hands clenching into the sheets and your pussy milking him for all he had. You could not formulate a thought nor a sound, your jaw slack, breathing heavily.
Gyomei rolled his hips, grinding against you, chasing the last few seconds of pleasure. “That’s it… That’s a good kitten, taking everything I give you.” Your walls were still fluttering around him when he started to pull away, ruining the tail end of your own release.
You whined, but didn’t protest otherwise, too fucked out to do so as he slid out, his semen spilling out.
“Clean me up, kitten,” he ordered you, sitting back on his haunches. 
You got to your hands and knees sluggishly, trembling, reaching for his cock head open-mouthed, one of his hands grabbing you by the hair gently. Gyomei took his length at the base and tapped it on your cheek, a soft smack echoing in the room. You turned your head to kiss it but he backed out a little with his hips. A whine left you as you stuck your tongue out, chasing after it. 
“Cute little princess, I just want to spoil you, you know? But you make it so hard when you act like a brat,” he said softly, his grip on your hair tightening, stopping you just an inch from his tip. 
You nearly wailed, eyes dewy with unshed tears from the desperation to obey his earlier command. “Please, Master, please, let me clean it, let me suck it! I need it!”
“So needy, and desperate… All this needless suffering could have been avoided, kitten. What a mess you are…” 
Gyomei allowed you to close the distance to his cum-stained cock excruciatingly slowly, your tongue reaching out; your tip on his tip, then licking at his whole mushroom head, diligently cleaning him up as ordered. 
“Good kitten, very good. Everything falls into place now, doesn’t it? Servicing your Master is your life’s purpose. You just need to accept it.”
You took his cock inside your mouth and started to suck on it greedily, addicted to the salty taste of him. He was still hard.
“I wonder… Can you handle one more?”
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