#but also him binding them and not taking care of them would be such a bane move

[wolveria]

👀👀👀 can I ask about the wing AU??

Yesss!! The Wing AU! Which is really just a long document with the various clones and Jedi/Sith what their wings would look like.

I'm going to post it as it is because the bullet point works, and this is the "baseline" part of the winged universe. I might have several stories stem from it, because... I just really love wings and I feel like I could go in several directions. So here it is!

There are only two beings in the galaxy with wings: those who are Force-sensitive, and the clones engineered by the Kaminoans

The wings of a child will be drab until they molt in maturity, bringing in their true colors

Touching another person’s wings without permission is disrespectful and invasive, while trusting someone enough to allow them to preen their wings is a sign of trust and closeness

The clones were engineered with wings to keep up with the Jedi during the war, though this has brought its own controversy with senators questioning if engineering wings is a step too far in cloning technology, as wings are supposed to be sacred (but the Chancellor claims this is a sign they are on the side of righteousness, though in reality he wants the clone troopers to have wings to keep up with the Jedi when he orders their execution)

Yoda has grey wings, Dooku has elegant black wings, and Darth Sidious has no wings at all (he removed them at an early age to hide his affinity for the Force, and he almost abhors the idea of them), Maul’s wings are black with red tips, and Ventress has wings of white with black tips

Anakin has beautiful golden-brown wings, Obi-Wan has soft sandstone-colored wings, and Ahsoka has white wings with blue stripes

Cad Bane has wings of blue variation, light blue at the base and darker at the tips, though they are so ragged from being unpreened and kept in bindings against his back that they can only glide, not fly, until they are restored with care and practice (which is unlikely since he always keeps them hidden and no one knows he even has them)

Clones Wings:

Hunter has dark grey wings, the same color as his eyes, and the feathers are broader and longer than a typical clones’ (his brothers used to joke that his missing height went into his wingspan)

Crosshair has silvery white wings that match his hair, and they’re especially soft around the shoulders of the wings, almost downy, but if anyone tries to touch them, they’ll get pummeled for it. Not with his hands—Crosshair has learned how to “punch” with his wings with uncanny accuracy, and other troopers learned long ago to steer clear of them

Wrecker has reddish-brown wings that have golden highlights in the sun, though he had to have cybernetic feathers and muscles implanted into his left wing after the explosion that took his eye

Tech’s wings are golden-brown, and they are prone to being unkempt much like his living space, the clone too distracted with his work to care for them, and if it wasn’t for his brothers they would be nearly unusable (which would be a shame, because he flies like a mynock on fire)

Echo used to have grey speckled wings that complimented Fives’ grey and white wings, but once he was captured, the Separatists cut them off. After he was rescued, Rex and Cody made sure there were funds to build him advanced mechanical wings so he could fly again

Omega has golden-white wings, and the Batch had to teach her how to fly because the Kaminoans didn’t show her and probably never would have

Crosshair would be the one to preen Hunter’s wings after a battle, and Hunter would preen his (Crosshair would let Wrecker preen his wings but no matter how hard he tries, Crosshair’s too sensitive, and Hunter is the only one with a light enough touch to do it)

Tech doesn’t really care who preens his wings out of the Batch, just as long as they don’t screw up and pull out any feathers, and he’s more than happy to let Wrecker do it since the big clone loves preening his brother’s feathers

If a flyer goes through a traumatic event, their feathers will molt and grow back a different color: this is what happens to the clones after Order 66, they lose their individuality/feathers, and grow all white wings to match their bleached armor (Crosshair loses his silvery feathers and they grow back in a much darker shade, showing he’s not completely under their control and is suffering for it)

There are only a few Imperial clones that don’t grow plain white feathers, but instead, they grow in pure black. The ones with black wings are selected to be Death Troopers

Crosshair’s new wings are not technically black, they’re more of a dark grey, and coincidentally, the same shade as Hunter’s wings

For clones who start to fight their chips, or their chips start to fail, they gradually shed their feathers and start growing them back with color. Such as Howzer, who started to grow back his teal-tipped feathers, and he had to bleach his wings so his superiors wouldn’t find out

The new TK troopers are given mechanical wings, but they are far inferior to the natural wings that clones are engineered with, but mechanical wings are cheaper than biological ones, and the clone troopers that remain are taken to Tantiss for experimentation

[imminent-danger-came]

I think people don't appreciate how much heavy lifting ROTSQ did for both DBK and Red Son's arcs

[yeyinde]

The 141 finding out you've never had sex.

Just casually drinking, playing cards. A joke causes it to slip out.

body electric: the virgin edition

Gaz, the instigator, mutters something about not having been fucked in ages. this springs up a sudden surge of comradery, because, yeah. neither have they.

Soap's devote Catholicism (i like to imagine) leaves little room for flippant intimacy. he tries to be a good boy. key word, of course, being: tries. but the last serious relationship was years ago. back when he was grunt. he's pent up. abstinence, yeah? he holds it tight in his hand. but the thing about fists is that they're often mistaken for anger. Soap's a realist masquerading as an optimist. he knows whoever falls into his jowls next will be a MacTavish by the time he's through with them. and commitment. well. his comes at a price. a hefty one.

Ghost prefers casual flings where he doesn't have to take any clothes off. unzips his trousers, frees his cock, and then tries to pretend he's a real, flesh and blood, human. to feel something, anything, except a vacuum between hollow bones. but his tastes are peculiar. on the side of unhinged. he hasn't found the perfect body yet satiate himself with.

Price. well. with his bloody hands, he thinks he'd rather not dirty the same people he swears to protect. and divorcing at the age of 30 does that to a man, maybe. his role as a captain (an excuse in retrospect) also keeps him from unleashing his wants. the very same ones that are probably best under lock and key, anyway. it's just for the best, really. something he ought to do because the moment he has another chance to sink his teeth into someone's neck, he'll tear them apart. break them into pieces.

despite bringing it up, Gaz knows the real reason he's single is because he's pushy. he wants. so he takes. and then takes some more. more. more. until his gullet is full of the person he's obsessed with. carrying them around in his breast pocket everywhere he goes. the perfect mate. the one he can shower with unfettered affection. a deluge, in all honesty. one with the ideation to drown. biblical floods. trapped beneath him. he likes it more than he should, but. singedom, then, he supposes.

and then you roll the dice. admit, sheepishly, that, technically, you have them all beat. zero is always lesser than five, ten, twenty. but it's this misstep—zero, never—that catches their attention.

suddenly, you're not surrounded by kin but a pack of wolves. all hungry in their own ways, all starving. it just makes sense to quench their hunger with you, doesn't it? friend, ally. pretty little thing. so sweet for them. and perfectly mouldable. putty they shape to their hearts desire. the perfect mate.

Soap grips his rosary. the sign of the cross, heavenly Father and Holy Spirit, digging into his palm like the burn of a baptism. what's devotion if not pain? he cuts himself on the gold. offers blood of the sacrament to whoever might be listening, and leans in, sniffing.

Price's knuckles are white. he leans back, hidden in shadows. all you can see is spark of burning orange from his cigar as he takes mouthful after mouthful of smoke, contemplating. assessing.

"that so?" he doesn't even need to look at his Lieutenant to know that the man has gone still. too bad for you, it's not from shock.

Ghost barely holds himself back. keeps tight in his seat. fists clenching. unclenching. he has a good enough read on the people around him to see the unfiltered desire ripping across their face. scorching. but to bite, with his mouthful of jagged, seraded teeth; ones meant to rip, break, tear, would ruin you. permanently. unequivocally. and—

"wanna give it a go?" all eyes turn to Gaz, electric in his seat. eyes smouldering umbre. "i mean, you trust us the most, don't you?" us. it's stunning, he thinks, the way Gaz can weave tapestry in the air like this with just his words. one tangled like shibari binds. "and we care for you a lot. we'll be gentle. it's up to you, of course, but—"

Soap's bloody hand disappears under the table. you gasp. "yer askin' fer it, ain't ye? beggin' so pretty fer it."

"n-no, i—"

"mind your manners." Price. his voice is chiselled into char, authoritative; low. a lulling command spoken in a breath of smoke. "and don't lie, love. or i'll have to take you over my knee."

the tension is thick. Soap's arm moves, slow. deliberate. Ghost has clench his jaw to avoid bearing his teeth. snarling.

Gaz cuts it with a knife. hews compliance into your skin with a fine needle point. "it's okay. we'll take such good care'a you. make you feel so good."

your submission is a heavy thing. oppressive. the shallow dip of your chin, the blistering heat simmering under your flesh, burning right, is the prettiest fuckin' thing he's ever seen. he does clench his jaw this time. tight, tight. tight

until something pops.

"okay." you yield. head bowed. beautifully submissive.

when he looks around, catches the predatory crackle in the air. his hackles raise. immediate. instinctual. and ah, right.

it's easy to forget he's surrounded by a wild pack of stray dogs. starving ones, too.

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Breaking the Fourth Wall

Only, he’s not. He’s talking to the Divine Twitch Chat, but just to be a little shit, he’ll talk to them on some Dora type of nonsense. They eat it up cause they don’t know what Dora is. They’re just happy they get to interact with the stream.

A great example of this was when Billy got kidnapped by Sivana for the 50 million time. He got out of his binds, transformed into Marvel, busted through the doors and knocked out some guards. He was then met with a decision. He could either go left or right. Right lead somewhere unknown, and left lead to an exit. Time to consult the chat!

Marvel: *talking in Dora/Amanda the Adventure voice* “Hmm… What do you think?” *Turns to a random direction as if he’s talking to someone* “Should we go left or right?”

Solomon: “I believe it would be wise to go left, Billy-”

Heracles and Achilles: “RIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!”

Atlas: “No, stupidheads. That’s probably gonna lead him to robots.”

Mercury: “That’s exactly why we should go.”

Zeus: “I agree with Hermes.” *just wants to spite Atlas*

Marvel: “The votes are in! It looks like we’re going… right!” *starts walking right*

He in fact did run into a bunch of robots. But hey, at least he found Sivana. Back to jail he goes.

Also, someone recovered this footage from a security camera and they saw Marvel ask the question and just stand still in complete silence for a solid minute before saying the thing about the votes. They posted this online and he got called a schizo like twenty times over. Marvel was later brought in so Black Canary could have a little session with him.

Marvel: “Ms. Canary, I’m not crazy I swear.”

Black Canary: “Cap, I’m not saying that, but well, this footage suggests that you might have some… problems.”

Marvel: “But I don’t. Pinky promise. I was just talking to the gods in my head. That’s it.”

Black Canary: “Mhm. Mhm. I see. I see.” *scribbles down on notepad*

Marvel: *concerned* “What’re you writing down?”

Then, there was another incident where some guy tried robbing an old, homeless man that Billy knew. Marvel took him up to a building and let him dangle by his leg off the side of it. What could he say, the old man gave him a buck anytime he could. Billy’s loyal like that.

Marvel: *does the Dora/Amanda voice again* “Hmm… It seems we’re stuck with a decision.”

Heracles: “He’s doing the voice! He’s doing the voice!”

Marvel: “What do you think we should do?” *turns to no one again* “Should we drop him?”

Robber: “WHAT?” *stops flailing around*

Marvel: “Or should we turn him into the police?”

Zeus: “DROP HIM.”

Solomon: “Do NOT do that, Billy.”

Atlas: “I agree, drop him.”

Achilles: “Drop.”

Mercury: “Ooh! Ooh! Drop him, then catch him just when he’s about to hit the ground.”

Heracles: “I second that.”

Marvel: “Just kidding! This isn’t up for vote. Alley-oop!” *slings robber over his shoulder and flies to a police station*

Gods: “BOOOOOOOOOO”

The police report for this got leaked and now the residents of Fawcett got to know their lovable teddy bear hero dangled a man off the side of a building. Also, this is a recent thing by the way. Billy only started doing this about a couple weeks ago so all of the Fawcett citizens are so concerned because he never used to do this before. They’re all like, oh my God, is Cap going crazy? Point is, they’re worried.

One of their ways of showing they care that’s still fresh on Billy’s mind is when he was taking a dealer to the police station and the man offered him some of his stash because and he quotes:

Dealer: “Hey, man, you saved my kid brother from getting kidnapped. You’re good in my book. You gotta help people out especially if they help you.”

This stunned Billy a little if he was honest. He didn’t know if he should’ve been touched or offended. He was offered drugs, but I was as a token of appreciation. He’ll go with a little bit of both instead.

[thornescalling]

Have the bonus "I fucked up the blending mode" version because I think it looks pretty cool on it own!

As long as I live, they will not have you. Run.

[radiance1]

I have decided to continue this post.

It ain't gonna be much of a story but just me putting out my thoughts okay SO.

Damian walks around Gotham with purpose, why? To find Danny of course, after he was finally allowed out of the manor after he healed from their last encounter as Robin and Killer Croc's little follower. He finds Danny where he would normally.

In an alleyway.

They enter their usual song and dance, Danny throwing attacks and Damian redirecting, blocking and occasionally sending back one of his own before Killer Croc just crawls from a nearby sewer. Waylon questions why Damian keeps coming back to fight his nibling, and how Bruce Wayne just lets him go off to do what he's doing now.

Damian does not respond, instead he asks for Killer Croc's permission to take Danny out for today, leaving both mutants (He isn't quite sure if Danny is a mutant, but he has enhanced strength so, maybe) quite surprised. Killer Croc is a bit hesitantly, mostly because he doesn't want Danny out of his sight, but he also thinks it would be good for him to go out and interact with kids his age more.

Even if it's a rich kid.

So he agrees, and Danny gets to go along with Damian for the day and Damian? He doesn't know what to do actually, he came in fully prepared for a refusal and didn't plan that far.

So he takes Danny to a dog park. Then they get ice cream, and then he finds himself chiding Danny over his form and then they're now talking about animals.

And then both Danny and Damian get kidnapped while they were just walking. Which, incredibly rude and Damian doesn't like that he would have to wait for one of his siblings to come save the both of them when they're perfectly capable of its themselves.

But. Well, he has too.

Until Danny seemingly had enough, manages to get himself out of his bindings and throws the first punch, so Damian was obligated to help him at that point. Just as they were about to deal with the last few, Killer Croc busted through a wall and put the fear of Gotham into them.

Then Damian was freed (yes he did fight with his arms bound) he realized it was practically nighttime and he had to go home.

It made a headline, not surprising actually. But they questioned what exactly the relationship Damian, Danny and Killer Crocc had with each other. Not that he actually cared.

He had another, more proper, outing to plan.

Because he wasn't ever going to verbally admit it soon, but he sees Danny as a friend.

[mournings-stars]

could i have anything with a married vox x reader pleasee? i'm so obsessed with this television it isn't even funny 😭

okay im FINALLY publishing this — in my defense i wrote like five vox x wife!readers after getting this and couldn't decide which to publish to this ask but now yall are getting over protective husband vox cus i love him and now i wanna make an actual fic also i originally read this request as wife!reader so i made reader fem but I'm just now realizing it's married i hope that's okay!!

warning: vox is a little crazy and reader does not care

No one knew Vox was married — and it wasn’t because he wanted to hide you, or he felt ashamed. He could never feel ashamed; you were basically his pride and joy — It was because he couldn’t stand anyone trying anything with you. Especially because of how much he doted on you. Someone could easily see how much he cared and use it against him — they could hurt you, manipulate you, maybe even force you into a soul-binding deal. He couldn’t risk anything happening to you.

That was why you lived very separate lives… Well, not entirely separate. He couldn’t stand letting you work for someone else (they could take advantage of you, or try to flirt with you), and he couldn’t handle being too far away from him during the day, so you worked at VoxTek. You had a job where you never interacted with your husband, and it left your days feeling exceptionally lonely. Especially because he claimed that he “didn’t want to overwork you,” which meant he stayed at the office much later than you did and you were left at home. Alone for most of the night, usually falling asleep before he got there, and waking without him because he went in earlier than you. 

You also had weekends off while he worked a good portion of the day, which let you “go out on the town” of course, but it also left you, again, very lonely. He did email you throughout the day, but that was because no one could see those emails. It was “an outdated form of communication” as he called it, which meant no one looked through them. 

Of course, when you did get to see him, you were ecstatic. He went on and on about how much he missed you all week, subtly asking if anyone had bothered you at all. If they did, they very coincidentally disappeared, so you often told him “no” for the sake of your coworkers’ souls.

And of course, after some time, people did start to bother you. They would get promoted, and get the chance to work with your husband directly, while you stayed exactly where you were and didn’t even get a call from him. That led them to teasing, which turned into snide comments and remarks, which became little “accidents” like spilling hot coffee on you or ruining and deleting your work. 

One day, after someone dumped piping hot coffee all over you, and a very expensive blouse your husband bought, you had enough and backhanded her. 

You were an overlord’s wife, and he gave you everything. Even and especially power. That meant the employee was flung across the room while screens burst and crackled around her, and you were dragged up to Vox’s office. 

“What is it now?” Vox asked when your supervisor knocked on his door, ignoring your wincing as you tried to get the scalding hot coffee-stained blouse as far from your skin as possible. 

“Another low-class bitch ruining our image,” was the response that made you laugh, knowing this person would be dead as soon as they opened the door. 

“Ah…” He sighed, but you knew he was smiling. “Come in.” He was probably going through his weaponry, pulling out just the thing to get rid of the “low-class bitch,” but as soon as the door was opened, you were shoved in front of him, and his weapon went off, you weren’t the one to fall limply to the ground. 

The two employees who opened the door quickly dragged the supervisor away and left you alone in the room. 

As soon as they were gone, he discarded his weapon and went to you. “What happened to you?” He wiped under your big eyes as he cupped your cheeks, which were dry, but he could tell you were upset and he was doing his best not to go out and get rid of everyone in your department. 

“I hit someone,” you said, and he found it adorable. There wasn’t much you could do wrong in his eyes. 

Clearly. 

“What’d they do to make that happen? I’ll kill them,” was his quick response before he cleared his throat. “I mean, I’ll talk to them about it.” His eyes drifted down to your blouse, his screen blinking and hands twitching on your face before they went to your blouse and began unbuttoning. He didn't say anything else, electricity zapping between his fingers as he fumbled with the buttons until he cursed and ripped the blouse open. The buttons clattered to the floor as he muttered, “I’ll get — get — get you a new one,” screen buffering and electricity zapping over his entire body. “Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so.” You knew not to tell him how much it burned with the way he was reacting already. “Vox—“

“After I take care of you, you're going to point out who did this, and who watched it happen. Understood?” He knew you tried to spare your coworkers from his temper, but he wasn’t going to let that happen this time. 

“It’s happened before—“ A loud whir of electricity sounded as Vox’s screen flashed and blue jolts of electricity burst around him. You shrunk back at the overwhelming power, quickly telling him, “I’m fine–”

“You didn’t tell me?” His voice sounded electric, making you swallow as he removed his overcoat to use as a towel to pat your chest dry. He couldn’t even enjoy the sight of you at work, topless, when this was the reason. He watched the way you winced with every touch of his jacket on you, fingers sparking at the redness he could see beneath the coat. His body jolted and the overcoat immediately sparked fire. “Fuck!” He tossed it to the ground, stepping on it to put the fire out. 

“You need to relax,” you told him pointedly. “I’m fine. You’re overreacting.”

“You’re underreacting,” he said childishly, taking in a deep breath before going to a closet in the large room and grabbing a spare blouse for you and an overcoat for him. At the sight of the many things he had to give to you and spoil you with in there, he calmed only slightly. “Did you at least hit her hard?” He asked as he handed you the blouse. You hummed, nodding and making a very prideful smile come to his face as you buttoned up the blouse. “Do you like this one?” He asked quickly, his evident mood shift into wanting to please you making you chuckle. “It’s not as expensive as the one that cunt ruined,” you hummed along to satiate his ego, “but I thought you’d make it look good.” Before you could say anything, he continued. “I have some more I got for you; do you want to see those instead?”

“I like this one. You picked it.” His screen buffered as he cleared his throat, a pink glow on his cheeks that he quickly got rid of. When you noticed he began to relax, you took the opportunity of being in his office to your advantage, sweetly asking, “Can we have a moment together before you go down and fire half your company?”

“Anything you want, dear,” he said, much more cheerful than he was moments ago. “Do you want anything to eat? Drink? I’ll call something up.” He went to the desk at the end of the room as you went to the seating area and sat on the sofa. “Where should I order from?”

“Vox, you’re at work. You shouldn’t order anything,” you had to remind him of his own rules he set for himself. “They’ll see me here–”

“Are you wearing your ring?” He asked, speaking over you.

“I’m always wearing my ring.”

He nodded, looking down at his matching golden band. “Let them see.” In the moment you gave him to think, he’d come to the more rational conclusion that he wouldn't harm anyone. Just that he’d terrify them to death by making it known that you were not to be touched ever again. “I’ll make sure everyone knows who they decided to fuck with today.”

[starkeysprincess]

Trying this again since link didn’t work🫶🏻

P! Link this was inspired by😌: https://twitter.com/lilayura_/status/1723131249324171400?s=46&t=fLXiXk2nW8WPhuZDNsKA1g

Bully!Rafe punishing reader like this after she smarts off to him at Top’s party in front of everyone. Just going absolutely feral having her at his complete mercy. Spanking her ass, taunting her with the most evil degrading shit, and torturing her until she’s brain dead mush under him🫠 and then sending a video to everyone at the party to show them how much she really hates him😌

•°. *࿐ HUMILIATE YOU LIKE YOU HUMILIATED ME

you ate with this link, I’ve been drooling over it 🫠 ALSO im tipsy as fuck rn so I apologize in advanced if this is complete ass 😭

pairings: bully!rafe x reader

warnings: use of vibrator, mentions of bondage, mentions of overstimulation, degradation, mentions of video recording, 18+ mdni

you were trying to have fun and enjoy Topper's party but were fed up with Rafe and his nasty comments. you've never been the type to talk back, always taking insults with a grain of salt but you were at your breaking point, especially when you've done nothing to deserve the way he's been treating you.

if you knew smart-mouthing him would lead you to where you are now, you would've kept your mouth shut.

"this is what happens when you wanna fuckin' disrespect and embarrass me in front of everyone" he gritted his teeth, earning a yelp from you when his hand roughly landed on your ass.

"p-please" you squirmed under him, your wrists and ankles burning from harshly tugging at the binds that held them together. "p-please" rafe mimics, increasing the setting on the magic wand that was held to your clit.

"sluts like you need to learn their fuckin' place" he snorted, pulling your panties to the side, pushing the vibrator further onto your clit.

your mascara stained your face from your tears, "Rafe, 'm sorry!".

"sorry isn't enough, you can keep acting all big and tough but everyone will know how much of a whore you are" he chuckles, enjoying every single whimper and moan that he pulls from you.

your cunt clenches around nothing from his words, the pressure against your sensitive, puffy clit becoming too much.

“your mouth says you hate me but your cunt say otherwise, you’re practically fuckin’ dripping” Rafe snorts, “gonna show everyone how wet you’re getting f’me without even touching you”.

“humiliate you just like how you humiliated me” he spat, his large, calloused hand pulling your ass cheeks apart, pressing the vibrator further against your pussy, "but i know a slut like you would enjoy that, huh? bet you enjoy being nothin’ but a hole to fuck”.

"r-rafe" you sob out, your tears blurring your vision, "that's right, lemme hear you begging f'me to stop" he grins, holding your hips down when they buck against the vibrator.

your eyes roll back, words slurring as you cum again for the fifth time and you're begging for him to stop, "i can't" you hiccup. "you can't or you won't? either way, it doesn't matter, 'm not stoppin' till you've learned you're fuckin' lesson" Rafe scoffed.

Rafe's hand comes down on your ass once again, "i don't give a shit if you're crying for me to stop, you're gonna keep takin' what i give you until you pass out for all i fuckin' care".

"if you know what's best for you, you'd keep your whore mouth shut and take it or so fuckin' help me, i'll shove my cock so far down your throat to shut you up, yeah?" he threatens.

Rafe smirked, knowing you had no choice but to take it, your pussy throbbing and you could barely form words, drool spilling out of your mouth and onto the sheets as your legs shook from being overstimulated.

your brain felt fuzzy, turning into mush as you cum once again, you failed to realize he was recording the entire time, "shit, look at how fuckin' pretty she is when she's nothing but a drooling, cock hungry whore f'me".

Rafe saved the video, airdropping it to everyone at the party before tossing his phone onto the mattress, fingers spreading your pussy open before pushing them into your tight, wet hole.

tagging: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @nemesyaaa @rafesthroatbaby @annoyingassleo @fae-of-prey @bunnyrafe @sturnioloshacker @redhead1180 @shawtycoreee @drewstarkeys-world @starkeyisthelastname @heartsforvin @usergeta @rafeinterlude @rafecameroninterlude @kisses4angel @hallecarey1 @eddieslut69 @hyperfixationgirl @starkeysheart @blckbrrybasket @flvredcas

[jorrated]

Redid my Maya Knux gijinka! Now with notes and sources on how I did the design (It's kinda long, around 2k words jsyk):

The hairstyle:

Knux has pretty long spikes, so I knew I wanted to give him long hair! Braids or dreadlocks look pretty fitting, so I tried looking for references of hairstyles to see if any fit what I was looking for:

Source: Mayavase.com (Photograph by Justin Kerr)

http://research.mayavase.com/kerrmaya_hires.php?vase=1092

http://research.mayavase.com/kerrmaya_hires.php?vase=1453

http://research.mayavase.com/kerrmaya_hires.php?vase=694

http://research.mayavase.com/kerrmaya_hires.php?vase=1340

While all the vases show a variety of interesting hairstyles, I particularly loved the look of the braids in K694 (the third picture). Being tied upwards wouldn’t really fit Knux however, so something like the man in K1340 (fourth pic) with his hair fully down, or the 5th man from left to right in K1092 (first pic) with a cloth holding the hair would be really nice!

I didn’t want to give him a headpiece, if only to not clutter his head, but also I didn’t think it’d fit Knux as a warrior. The ruler’s headpiece in K1453 (second pic) however allows the hair to come off it, and seems to have some dangly adornments on the end of the strands/braids/locks, which I found super pretty. Plus:

“Elite Mayan men and women styled their hair to show off their pointed heads, crafted through the careful head flattening they experienced as children. Women gathered their long hair on top of their heads in flowing ponytails. For special occasions they braided their ponytails and decorated them with ornaments and ribbons. Mayan men grew their hair long but burnt the hair off their foreheads to accentuate their elongated profiles. They would bind their hair into one or many ponytails or tie it in a bundle on top of their head. Mayan slaves had their hair cut short as one visible mark of their inferior status.” p.399

Source: Fashion, costume, and culture: clothing, headwear, body decorations, and footwear through the ages (Sarah Pendergast and Tom Pendergast, Sarah Hermsen as Project Editor), 2003.

https://archive.org/details/fashioncostumecu0000pend/page/n5/mode/2up

Taking all of that! I settled on tight braids with a few adornments made of jade and wood, with a red cloth to keep his hair from his eyes. Almost all of the braids are pulled together into a ponytails, but there are some smaller braids loose.

It’s somewhat of a mixture of styles, combining ornaments of special occasions, with the long hair of elites on a character like Knux. But I kept these ‘contradictory’ aspects of the design to remember that Knux kinda learns about his ancestors on the go, through murals, writings and technology, so I doubt he’d have a great grasp on what he should and shouldn’t wear. I think it adds character as someone who’s trying to figure out himself, his history and his place in the world.

Shoes and Accessories:

For footwear I kept it simple, just turned Knux’s existing shoes into sandals:

“Ancient Aztecs and Mayans of Central America adopted a thick-soled sandal with a protective legging attached at the heel, while the top of the foot and shin remained exposed.” p.135

Source: Encyclopedia of Clothing and Fashion (Valerie Steele), 2005

Although my gut instinct was to cover Knuckles from head to toe in accessories, I also tried to keep it simple like the shoes. He’s a very mobile fellow so he can’t have too much weight or annoying bits flying everywhere and getting in his face. So I kept his moon necklace, like in Fleetway, just adjusted the shape to have a bit more of details:

“The jewelry worn by the Mayan, Aztec and Inca people was rich in variety and quite beautiful. Without metalworking skills, Mayans made jewelry from many materials. Mayan men wore nose ornaments, earplugs and lip plugs made from bone, wood, shells and stones, including jade, topaz, and obsidian. Necklaces, bracelets, anklets and headgear were made with jaguar and crocodile teeth, jaguar claws and feathers.” p.402

Source: Fashion, costume, and culture: clothing, headwear, body decorations, and footwear through the ages (Sarah Pendergast and Tom Pendergast, Sarah Hermsen as Project Editor), 2003.

https://archive.org/details/fashioncostumecu0000pend/page/n5/mode/2up

As stated here, Mayans didn’t have metalwork, so I imagine this is an artifact that his ancestors got from another group of people.

Just a page before they also mention how the Maya people used to file points into their teeth, to make their mouths more appealing. This includes shaping them into pointy teeth, (like the classic shark teeth), but they could also file them into other shapes, like in this picture:

Source: https://www.archaeologynow.org/blog-3/blog-post-title-two-txwxl (I’m pretty sure this isn’t the source of the image, but I couldn’t find an actual source that wasn’t an uncredited blog)

The Maya people are also notorious for their good dentistry, as seen the stone ornaments in the teeth above. I think the filling is something Knux could do on his own, but anything that would involve actual dentistry would be too much. But it’s still interesting to read about!

(Here’s an article named “Mayan Esthetic Dentistry: Using Modern Techniques and Digital Imaging Technologies to Link the Past to the Present” by Yassine Harichane if you want to learn more!)

While a non-permanent version of stones on teeth seemed cool, like Jade incisor-coverings, at the end of the day I don’t think Knuckles is too vain, so I didn’t add that to the design. Although I think he’d definitely try out a bunch of things like this, just to try to understand them.

For additional outfits I gave him a red layered cape and a green huipil! The red cape is just to bring back more red into the design, since I gave him a lot of green. And the huipil is a nod to his poncho in the comics! (Although huipiles are commonly associated with women and girls, I still wanted to give him one, not only to bring up his partial detachment to his ancestors, but also because Knux probably wouldn’t think much about gender in general let’s be honest)

Source: Mayavase.com (Photograph by Justin Kerr)

http://research.mayavase.com/kerrmaya_hires.php?vase=638

Somewhat based the red cape on the 4th man in this picture, from left to right, but I kept it simple, as maybe just some fabric Knux found around the island, nothing too fancy.

For the huipil I wanted to do something more detailed but was having a really hard time coming up with designs. And I didn’t want to straight up plagiarize someone’s else work, so I kept it vague, maybe some day I’ll sit down and give it a more detailed version. I did come across a very nice store/ catalog that sells traditional Maya textiles, and this one was very gorgeous! Highly recommend give this and the other textiles a look!

In the end I made the huipil look vaguely like the ones shown in page 128 of the following book:

“In the Museum collection, costumes that looked very much alike usually turned out to be from villages that shared a language. Among Cakchiquel villages, dialect differences were usually mirrored by costume differences. Working on this principle we were surprised by the striking similarity of style in the huipils of San Antonio Aguas Calientes (fig. 195) and San Martín Jilotepeque (fig. 196). These villages, while both Cakchiquel, spoke very different dialects and were separated geographically (map, below). The similarity of their huipil was so remarkable we felt the need to investigate these two villages more thoroughly and found that a multi-cultural history probably accounted for these unexpected similarities of style. Huipils from these villages may well illustrate the earliest examples of pan-Maya acculturation after the Conquest.”p. 127

Source: Threads of identity: Maya costume of the 1960s in highland Guatemala (Patricia B. Altman, Caroline D.West), 1992.

https://archive.org/details/threadsofidentit0000altm/page/n7/mode/2up

Lastly on accessories, which I don’t know if it counts as an accessory but I didn’t know where to put it: the body paint. Last time I gave Knux a human design I couldn't find a good resource on Maya people painting their bodies. Every source mentioned and was in consensus that some of the people did paint their bodies, but that was the extent of the info. I wasn’t able to find any patterns or meanings of the body paintings, or even good visual reference for it. But! This time I was able to get a bit more:

“Body painting was a common Maya practice. Classic Period murals and polychrome vases depict warriors covered with red or black paint; sometimes their bodies were striped with red paint. Paint was also used around the eyes and nose to give a fierce expression. In the 16th century, these practices continued. Women also applied red paint to their faces and bodies, but presumably to make themselves look beautiful, not fierce. Small paint jars of red hematite mixed with mica were found in the houses at Cerén, and these may have been for cosmetic use. Unmarried young men painted their bodies black, and so did those who were undergoing periods of ritual purification and fasting. Priests often wore blue body paint. “p. 338

Source: Handbook To Life In The Ancient Maya World Lynn (V. Foster), 2002.

Source: Mayavase.com (Photograph by Justin Kerr)

http://research.mayavase.com/kerrmaya_hires.php?vase=2800

http://research.mayavase.com/kerrmaya_hires.php?vase=2573

http://research.mayavase.com/kerrmaya_hires.php?vase=7996

I of course wanted to give him red paint, and I really liked this design of the red lining the cheeks on the face down to the neckline. However in most of these depictions the red on the body is accompanied by the white face, which I can’t actually tell if the face has white paint, or the body has black paint, like described in the quote before. Either way I chose to only use the red, to keep in line with Knux’s original design.

(It’s worth mentioning that these vases shown depict rulers, as you can see the intricate thrones and altars, which isn’t really fitting with Knux. But again, I want to keep some mismatched aspects into his design, not only warrior-related things.)

The main outfit:

Last but not least, the main outfit. Don’t have much notes on this I’m going to be honest, I just tried to keep in line with descriptions of warriors clothing:

“While some warriors may have been resplendent on the battlefield, the common Maya soldier fought with little clothing other than loincloth and body paint, based on battle scenes in the few Maya murals that remain (see figure 2.9, page 54).” p.147

Source: Handbook To Life In The Ancient Maya World Lynn (V. Foster), 2002.

I considered putting him in a loincloth for accuracy, but tbh I was scared people were going to be weird about it, and so I gave him a skirt with some fabric that emulates the look of a loincloth and some scrap fabric around his waist and limbs! He actually ended pulling up a lot from the dude I mentioned in vase K1092 (the very first ref pic in this post) lol!

And that´s all, hope y’all liked it :P

[prettyboykatsuki]

exception(al) | sunday hsr

𖤓 tags ; afab + gn!reader, established relationship, established d/s dynamic (implied to be 24/7), extremely submissive!reader, soft dom!sunday, shoe humping, oral (m!recieving), cock worship, deep throating, lots of praise / pet names, thumb sucking, cum swallowing 18+

𖤓 wc ; 2.2k

𖤓 a/n ; if you care abt me you won't say a word about this post. okay. alright. takes place in this universe, but not required reading.

𖤓 synopsis ; he'd give you anything you ask for. his one love. his only exception.

If Sunday could use one word to describe you, he would pick the plainest option: obedient.

You're other things. Loyal, desperate, beautiful, adoring. There are other words more well-fitted to your character and better words to describe the way you look through his lens. Ethereal. Charming. Provocative

But above all else, if Sunday had to sum up all of your parts he'd choose to put your obedience on the pedestal it deserves to stand on.

Obedience like yours can't be bought with fear, can't even be bought with manipulation. You have to get lucky to find someone so perfectly, unflinchingly obedient in the same way you are.

The leash Sunday keeps you on, intentionally tight, never appears that way on your throat.

That is to say: you bear the suffocation of Sunday's affection so well, a lesser person would be at risk for taking you for granted.

Not Sunday. Never him, of course. No one knows better how much you deserved to be cherished then him. That's how the cycle between you always goes. You live at his beck and call— his mercy. You're obedient with his whims and patient with his insecurities. Eventually, after some time passes, he'll praise and reward your efforts.

(The truth is, Sunday is always one difficult day away from spoiling you. Showering you in his affection after the thread-bare strands of his patience snap is his idea of letting go. There's few things more precious than how doe-eyed you get when he does.

But, a good owner knows to raise loyal pets - you must let them work towards rewards. He refrains for your sake. Always for your sake.)

Sunday always asks you what you want as a reward. Your requests are usually innocuous. Prey-like innocence in your eyes as you fiddle with the ends of his coat and ask for things like a date together or a bath or matching rings.

Sunday sometimes wants to tell you that's not the sort of thing you really need to beg him for. Sunday wants to tell you everything in his order is also yours.

He is yours, just like you're his. Mind, body, soul—devoured heart and all.

(Later, when Aeons abandon Sunday, he will find contentment in the fact you still belong to him. Even falling through Dreams or chained to hell. Still his. )

He doubts he ever will. He will continue along with rewarding you ask. Anything you want, you can earn.

It's rare you ask him for anything sexual so overtly. You do often beg to touch him and it's rare that Sunday lets you. He doesn't like to indulge too often, lest he lose the control that binds him so tightly.

Your latest request is half surprising. The desire to pleasure him being predictable and your bashful request to rub yourself against the toe of his dress shoes being the surprise.

He could tell at the time that it took all of your courage to ask. Clenched fists at the knees, gaze cast down instead of looking into his eyes, fidgety and uncertain.

It's an easy desire to fulfill and Sunday is, by all means, a loving master. If you want it, he'll will it by any means.

"Are you sure this is what you want, my heart?"

The affection bleeds into his voice as he cast his gaze at you. Bent down on your knees, naked from the neck down with the exception of a heather-blue collar with golden embellishments. You flicker your eyes up to him after he speaks to you, but don't talk.

"You may speak," He hums. He places a hand on your head, reaching down to pet your cheek and scratch under your chin. You preen under the silent doting. "It's your reward today, remember?"

"It's important to mind the rules no matter what."

He thinks about bending down and kissing you with a hand on your throat but keeps his composure. Instead, he pats your head and offers a smile. "That's right. Very clever, my dove."

You're elated just hearing it, staring at him. Pure need paints your expression, eyes wet as you squirm naked underneath him. He meets your look patiently, expectantly.

"Use your words."

"My reward," You swallow thickly. "Is it okay if I have?"

"Of course," He appeases your anxiety with a hand cupping your chin, thumb running your lower lip. "Do as you please."

You always wear your heart on your sleeve but it's times like this he finds it most impactful. Excitement radiates off of you in waves, shaky hands fumbling with his slacks. Your fingers are shaking as you unzip them slowly. Each step you take to get him undressed, you look up at him and wait for him to nod. Always obedient.

You get him partially undressed, each step slow - before you permit yourself to pull the rest of his clothes down. His cock springs free from fabric confines as you tuck the band underneath it. He hitches a breath trying not to lose his composure.

"You're hard," You observe in awe. He laughs breathlessly.

"Of course," He tells you staring down at where his cock cast shadow over your face. "It's you, after all."

The praise makes you wide-eyed. You mutter some kind of thank you that he smiles at gently. He can't help but be entertained by how you assess him. You've seen it before, a few times - yet you're awestruck. Every movement is tentative despite all of his encouragement. You mostly stare at it.

"It's alright. Take what you want." Sunday tells you, like it's some sort of gift. You treat it as such.

He feels his stomach tighten as soon as your hands fist the shaft of his cock. You frown a little. "It's really okay?"

"Yes," He hums, suddenly feeling aware of every nerve in his body. Spurred by his approval, Sunday merely watches you. He's fascinated, in his own right.

You're shaking with want by the time you move to do anything.

You stick your tongue out of your mouth tentatively, eyes transfixed on the tip so eagerly it makes his chest feel tight. Sunday is more familiar than most with desperation, but yours he knows like the back of his hand.

And Aeons, don't you look so desperate? The warm wet slide of your tongue is messy as you run it from base to tip, spitting gathered saliva on the tip with each go. It's clumsy, too desperate to count as a kitten lick and too practiced to count as virginal. It falls somewhere in between, like watching desire mix with your perfectionism.

He adjusts himself slightly. He tugs on the leash in your hand to pull your closer until you're wrapped around his leg, cock pressed against your cheek as he pushes you down by the shoulder. You squeak suddenly at the sensation, too enraptured with his cock to remember the other half of your request.

"I won't help you," He hums, teases - something he rarely does. You nod, not expecting it. You never are and it endears him.

There's parts of him that couldn't understand that this is what you wanted. You begged him for it but it felt unfathomable before now.

Your longing for his cock down your throat, in your mouth is so obvious it makes him waver. It's not something he gets used to. You slide your tongue all over his cock, drool giving your skin shine as you wet it over and over not even taking it in your mouth. Just spitting and licking like you're trying to remember every inch with your mouth and burn it into your memory.

Blissed out with your eyes nearly lidded shut, he can feel you rut your soft cunt over the point of his dress shoes over and over all the while.

It's interesting to affirm all the ways you feel pleasure. Sunday knows you let to put something in your mouth. He's fond of the habit - opts for cum soaked gloves or his own tongue to fulfill the urge for you.

This is an extension of your baser desire. Still, still - you do it with remarkable enthusiasm. It would almost feel torturous if you weren't so thorough. You remember points of pleasure on his cock. Along the veins, underneath the glans.

When the arousal starts to floor his system, you dip your tongue messily into the tip - precum staining your saliva with a pale white.

It moves you further along. You open your mouth up all the way, staring as you hollow your cheeks around the shaft of his cock with impressive ease. Fluttering your eyes shut, you hold onto his thigh and ease yourself as far down as you can go.

Your throat is wet and wanting for him. Over eager even with all the patience you try to demonstrate.

A thought passes by him as he watches you do it so expertly. The warm, slick cavern of your mouth accommodates him perfectly. No teeth, just throat and spit and drool. The corners of your lips flood with saliva as you take his cock in, breathing through your nose.

"Have you been practicing? To do this?"

You jolt, suddenly embarrassed. But you don't move to pull yourself off of his cock. Instead you stay for several moments, stretched throat - nose pressed into the thin hair above his cock and breathe him, humping his dress shoes like you're in heat. When you look up, he gets the confirmation he wants.

He's impossible endeared by you.

There's something strange in that it seems you relax after making it down. Heat stricken, swallowing his cock, chasing animalistic pleasure - truly content as your whole body begins breaking out in an aroused shudder. He can feel your chest against his leg, hardened nipples evidence of your arousal. Your wetness shines his shoe till it's reflective.

When you find you can no longer hold it and breathe, you pull back - a filthy slurping noise resulting. The tip sits on your tongue afterwards as you hum. It's lewd and filthy, not something he thought he'd be so interested in.

But it's you, after all.

Sunday admires you. How wrecked and lustful you look. How excited you are from something like this. An extension of your loyalty to him, down to bone.

He'd underestimated you, somehow. His mistake. When you pull off, before you go back down - he hooks his thumb into his cheek. His voice is thick with desire. The arousal is painful in his stomach as it ties in knots, cock twitching at the sight of your spit-soaked face.

"What do you want?"

You look at him confused before something seems to cross your mind. He encourages you. "Tell me,"

"Cum down my throat," You offer, debauched beyond his understanding. "Please."

Fuck. He takes in a breath.

"If it pleases you, dove," He says, then pets you affection as you go to deep throat him again. He decides to praise you. He can't think of anyone who would deny how sincerely you've earned it. "It feels good. You're thoughtful, hm? I'll return the favor ten fold after, like always."

You make a strangled noise as his cock hits the back of your throat again faster. You're sucking hard this time, quicker - your hand massaging his balls as you do. You hold his gaze the entire time even when you gasp for air, nose running. You're still perfect somehow, doe-eyed and innocent to him despite yourself.

"You're beautiful," He tells you and means it more than anything. Means it as you swallow and suck on his cock like it's everything you could ask for, means it as you hump against his shoes and stare up at him with crushing reverence.

Beautiful, perfect, the sweetest thing he's ever felt in his life. His most obedient possession. His from top to bottom, skin and bone and mind and body. Everything in Sundays possession - wholly his.

He pets your cheek as you move back and forth slowly, doing it properly. Bobbing your head back and forth, slow and smooth and deep with each motion until you feel comfortable enough to go rhythmically without gagging in excess.

You suck with such fervor he's inclined to believe you feel more pleasure than he does. Muffled whimpers and whines as you chase your own high. Sloppy at both ends.

Sunday lets himself slip. He moans - moans your name, soft and sweet and watches your whole body go alight at the reaction.

He can feel you cum before he can see it, the wet pulse of it and the sound of your high pitched whine.

It makes you cum, hearing Sunday express that. So he lets go, just for you, like always and watches tears fill the corner of your eyes like it's the happiest you could be.

Obedient thing you are, so tender - sweeter than all things in the world. Sweeter than a a dream. The thought makes his body lurch. His hips thrust this time and you let him with ease, shaking as Sunday lets himself fuck your throat a little harder.

"Gonna cum for you, sweet thing," He says, holding you close as he bottoms out again. He puts a hand on the back of your neck to hold you steady.

Sunday groans, shudders as an orgasm rips through him something irreparable. He cums hard, and you swallow all of it like it's easy despite how far he is down your throat.

He stays like that, catching his breath until he's ready to pull off. A long thick trail of saliva follows, drool dripping down against the hotel room floor as you leave your mouth open to show you swallowed it all.

Your expression morphs into fucked out pleasure, voice hoarse as you smile. "Thank you,"

You're his exception, Sunday thinks. If he's to deviate from structure, order, routine - it'd be only for you. He wipes the spit from your chin as he bends down to kiss your forehead.

"You made me feel good and did exceptionally well," He murmurs, soft and sweet. You melt under the touch, under the praise. "I love you,"

You smile happily. "Me too. I love you,"

"Now get up," He says, stroking your skin. "My turn, hm"

[lace-coffin]

Slasher kinks headcanons

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Minors DNI

Slashers x gender neutral! reader

Trigger warnings : consensual non consent (cnc), blood, degradation/humiliation, kidnapping? (Only for Asa)

Kinks: general rough sex, bdsm dynamics, daddy/mommy kink, humiliation/degradation, knife play, primal/prey & predator play, praise, sex whilst ovulating/on period, medical play, topping from the bottom, anal, face fucking, face slapping, spanking/punishment, breeding, knotting, hucow kink, phone sex, the list goes on

did anyone request this? No. Am I going to make u all look at it bc I’m a horndog? Absolutely

I will be writing a top/bottom section for every slasher! No gentials will be mentioned for reader (hole is used to be neutral) but strap/cock will be used in relation to the reader topping.

Michael will also have an extra t4t section for my friend bc there isn’t enough t4t Michael < 3

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas isn’t super experienced in sex before he meets you, infact you’re his first partner. Obviously he knows some of the ins and outs (pun intended) from his own teenage curiosity and hormones. He also might have stolen Atleast one of Hoyt’s porno magazines before now.

Tommy would become more confident in taking the lead once he knows what you like a little more, then he’d be ok trying other positions and bottoming sometimes. Stuff in the beginning might be pretty slow and steady but after you’ve been together a while it can get a lot more intense.

Definitely has a breeding kink, has a dream of having a big family with you and raising them on the farm to continue the Hewitt name. Something about seeing his seed leak from your abused and puffy hole makes him want to breed it into you harder. Tell him you want him to make you a mommy/daddy/parent (even if it’s not biologically possible) and you’ll be manhandled into a mating press until he feels he’s filled you up enough for it to take.

In the same way it makes him feel so pretty and desirable if you tell him your going fuck a baby into him, he doesn’t care if it’s not technically possible, tell him your going to knock him up and keep him round with your seed, he’ll be moaning around your cock/strap like a slut. Push your fingers into his mouth to give him something to keep quiet on : )

Hucow kink! Loves it whether he’s the one submitting or dominating! Let him lead you around the barn with a cute cowbell collar and cow ears on! Loves to include chest play, no matter what gender (or lack there of) your chest he loves grope it, abusing your nipples until they’re swollen/hard and sensitive, don’t worry though, he’ll be more than happy to lave over them to lessen the sting. If your a good little heifer he’ll shove you face first onto a hay bale, pounding you until your hole is gaping and cum is leaking from it into the rough hay <3

If Tommy is being submissive in this situation he’s super eager to please! Tie him up and Milk his cock over and over until he’s actively squirming away from your hand and groaning in overstimulation. He’s a good boy though and knows his place so he won’t break the binds even if it would be easier for him than most people. Humiliate him and make him moo/beg for your cock/strap! Fuck him whilst using his horns as a grip.

Bubba sawyer

Like Tommy bubba is also inexperienced, raised under Drayton’s view that it’s “sex or the saw”. Due to this Bubba viewed sex as a betrayal of his family, being told it was only there to distract you from what’s important. Please be patient with her and reframe her view of sex, let her know she’s not dirty or immoral for having needs and desires.

Once they know more and gain more experience they’re super eager to impress! Litterally goes down on you like it’s their job. You might have to tap out after a few orgasms because he could drink you down for hours. He’ll leave you shaking and leaky and just look up at you with a happy smile on their cum smeared face.

He loves praise and to know that she’s doing a good job, tell them that they make you feel so good in a way no one else can. Don’t be afraid to get a little more rough with your language however, he loves when you compliment how his cock stretches you just right or how he’s made to take your strap/cock. It feels so taboo for them and makes them squirm.

Absolutely loves it if you use feminine names for her in bed. Doll/baby/princess. Makes him feel so pretty and cared for! Play with bubbas tits, they have an ample chest to paw at 👀 will absolutely mewl into the bedsheets and press their tits further into your hands. Loves to be called mommy! It lets them know you feel safe and comfy with them.

Jason voorhees

Jason is another slasher with a skewed view on sex, his mother taught him it was sinful and the reason for his death, but surely anything he does with the person he loves that feels this good can’t be wrong. Encourage him and let him know it’s ok to fulfill his need and he’s not dirty or wrong for it!

Jason is happy to let you take the lead most of the time considering his inhuman strength, he doesn’t want to hurt you and would feel more comfortable if you took things at your own pace, not wanting to get too excited and manhandle you too much (not that you would mind in the slightest). He’s also not opposed to the sight of you on top of him.

He loves it when you take control, using his cock like it was made for you, draining it for all it’s worth. He loves to know he’s the one making you feel good and he’s the one you love. Praise him and tell him how good he’s doing, that he knows all your favourite spots and can make you fall apart. let him know you own his cock and you’ll do whatever you want with it (with consent obviously)

Despite this, if Jason’s had a bad day with trespassers escaping or traps breaking on him he may be inclined to storm through the front door and pin you to the nearest service, spearing you on his thick cock and leaving you dripping without warning or mercy.

Jason will be open to bottoming over time once his confidence in being intimate has improved and he feels less anxious about trying new things. He’ll still need a lot of encouragement to relax but once he does he’s happy to let you take care of him. Hold his hand as you stretch him open on your fingers, exploring parts of Jason he didn’t even know were an option. He gets a little addicted to the feeling of being used, fucking into him with reckless abandon. You can be rougher with him when topping because of his inhuman nature, thrust a toy or finger in his ass along side your cock/strap, he can take it. He doesn’t have much of a gag reflex due to being undead so fuck his face to your hearts content as long as you wipe his tears and drool for him and tell him what a sweet boy he is for you!

Jason’s very sweet with aftercare, making you a warm drink and cleaning you both up with a wet rag, he appreciates if you do the same for him, maybe bring him his cherished teddy bear to ground him until he feels less floaty.

RZ! Michael Myers

Michael may be quiet but he’s very forward and unashamed with the things he wants. Don’t expect Michael to be shy when it comes to needing you. He’ll silently wrap around you from behind, grinding his need into your behind no matter the time or place, although he’ll back off if you tell him no, he’ll pout and let out a grunt of understanding, leaving to deal with it himself if your not in the mood.

Michael is more relentless in topping when he’s come back from a hunt, the adrenaline quickly turning to arousal as he smears the still slightly warm blood over your lips.

I defiantly think Michael enjoys CNC (consensual non consent). He hasn’t had a lot of control over things in his life considering he spent most of it in Smith’s Grove unable to even dictate the most simple aspects of it. He likes the total power exchange and the control he has over you as you squirm underneath him. It really riles him up if you fight back, biting him until he bleeds and thrashing so he can hold you down even harder. Michael loves to silence your pleads with his knife, running the dull side of it over your flushed and tear laden cheeks, moving it down to your throat as a warning.

(Will absolutely make you suck the handle of his knife until your eyes are teary before stuffing as much of it as he can into your man cunt. If you don’t want to Accidently cut your thighs then you better lay still and take it like a good boy.)

To add onto this I think he enjoys cnc on the receiving end to, if he wants to submit he wants to be dominated completely and wholly without mercy (safewords in place obviously). Michael likes to be handled roughly and shown that even if he is The Shape that you can break him down into a drooling mess. He’s 90% legs but Lord does he get insanely hard when you fold those long legs in half and drill him into the bed with your cock/strap.

(Hold him down and strip him of his coveralls and boxers, eat his pussy before he can even get a chance to steady himself. Manhandle him into position and rut your cunt into his, ignoring his pleasure and using him to get off selfishly. He’ll look at you dumbly and fucked out after, long hair frizzy and a mess of slick on his thighs)

Pull him aside and use him whenever you want, if he rolls his eyes or acts bratty feel free to slap him around! He loves a firm smack on the cheek when he won’t open up more than he likes to admit, he likes to feel powerless under you.

Michael would totally be into predator/pray with him playing the predator. Stalking you through the woods or the empty streets of Haddonfield with his trusted knife. He’s not worried about you being in any actual danger because he’s the bulk of danger in the town anyway. he has no doubts that should someone try get the best of you in the dark he could take care of them and not break a sweat. He stalks you through the town loving the way the your pace picks up the longer it takes for him to strike. He knows it’s inevitable, there’s no where you could go that Michael won’t find you. Don’t expect to make it home once he corners you, you’ll be pushed against or bent over whatever surface is nearest and having his cock bullied into you.

(Michael would grab you and slam you against a tree once he had you cornered, making quick work of his zipper and underwear. T-dick engorged with arousal and want, lips glistening behind the dense brown hair. He pushes you to your knees and gets to work. You will be spending the next while with your mouth and fingers pressed against Michael’s cunt, your head jerked harder and more forcefully the closer he gets)

Billy lenz

Billy is also very forward with what he wants as we can see from the movie, though I do personally headcanon that Billy is hypersexual due to his trauma so sex can go either one of two ways. Either he’ll be super into it and eager or ashamed and feeling disgusted with himself, if it’s the latter please reassure him it’s not dirty or wrong and try distract him with something else.

This couldn’t be a Billy lenz kink post without phone sex. He loves to call you up when your busy (shopping, on a walk, at work) and spew filth down your ear, telling you all the things he’s going to do to you or that he’ll let you do to him. The riskier the location the better. Sometimes he’ll even already be touching himself, mewling down the receiver like a slut for you to come home.

To add onto this I think he’d have a kink for fucking you whilst you talk to someone on the phone, giggling as he nudges his dick against the perfect spot, making you keen into the speaker.

Billy loves dirty talk on either end, whether it’s him telling you how he’s going to choke you on his fat cock or you telling him how good he feels inside you and to cum inside. He adores degrading you, making you feel like a cum dump. He’ll taunt you, telling you you’re only good to warm his cock and get him off, making you sniffle and repeat it back to him for his own satisfaction and ego.

He occasionally thought about the possibility of bottoming from time to time before meeting you but brushed it off since he’s not super familiar with it and didn’t want to meet up with a stranger to try. That didn’t stop him from experiencing with a finger or two but he wasn’t informed and didn’t use lube so it wasn’t good lol.

All this changes after you mention it one night in bed, excited but nervous Billy accepts. It turns out he’s a complete bottom bitch, such a slut any time you can get him under you, he’ll moan without holding back not caring if the other sorority members hear. He doesn’t care whether you’re pounding into him with his face smashed into the covers like a whore or if he’s riding you greedily, he loves it anytime he can have your cock/strap in him.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is incredibly needy and intense, inexperienced but excited to get as close to you as humanly possible. He may come off a little bratty and demanding but he’s completely willing to wait until you’re ready, he’d never do anything you didn’t want. When you are ready it’s all hands on deck, Brahms wants you all the time at any time.

It doesn’t matter if you’re impaled on his cock or if your burried inside him, Brahms is just happy to be close and horny lol

Absolutely has a mommy/daddy kink (dude has crazy mommy issues). He enjoys it when you take the reins for him and tell him what to do, order him about, tell him how to please mommy/daddy just the way they like. You already have quite the control over him in your daily life anyway, telling him what to do and when, making sure he follows his rules. Talk Brahms through how to ride your shaft/strap, make him slow down and speed up whenever you feel like it for your own enjoyment, ignoring his pleas to fuck him properly.

Brahms is horny pretty often, as a result of this penetrative sex isn’t always a need. He loves having free use of you, fucking your thighs until he spills all over them or grabbing your hand and rutting against it whilst you read a book in the other.

Spanking! Nothing puts unruly little boys back in their place like beating their ass until they beg you to stop, all of Brahms’s brattiness seems to disappear once he knows he’s pushed it to far and has a punishment coming his way. He’ll cry and beg you to change your mind but it’s too late, bend him over your lap and rip his trousers down. If he’s been extra ill-behaved bring out the paddle, switching cheeks and making him count until his ass has a pretty pink flush to it.

Asa Emory

Asa demands to be in control, that much is clear and that translates over into bed too. You might have met Asa organically through his university lectures or a museum, if this is the case then you will still be with him under the guise of a 24/7 power exchange relationship. If you met him via kidnapping and was taken to the hotel to be a pet then this will still be expected of you but with the addition of being experimented on/tortured for his own satisfaction. You won’t have a say on your freedom. (I’m going to be writing it from the perspective your kept at the hotel as a pet because it’s more likely)

Asa gets a sick thrill out of treating you like a dog. Fucking you whilst gripping the leash wrenched around your neck until you’re wheezing for air. He’ll make you bark for his cock just to laugh at how pathetic and needy you are, humiliating yourself so you can get your hole stuffed, disgusting. Paw mitts and belts on the thighs/calfs are used to make you practically immobile, totally reliant on him to fulfill your needs and unwilling to do so until he’s broken you down into a sobbing panting mess.

Even when bottoming Asa takes control, barking orders at you about how he likes to be fucked, faster, deeper. You better not even think about cumming without permission or you won’t be cumming again for the next few days whilst he uses your cock/strap like a sex toy. Asa pulls you by your hair as you eat his ass, choking/slapping you if you’re not doing it to his liking. At the end he’ll spit in your mouth and make you say “thank you sir”, forcing your jaw open to make sure you swallowed it all down and patting you on the cheek as a reward.

Medical play is a favourite of his. He enjoys nothing more than stripping you naked and strapping you down to the chilly metal medical table, securing your wrists to the wrist clamps. Snapping on his black latex (unless you’re allergic to latex lol) gloves Asa will dissect you bit by bit. New toys are regularly incorporated to see if he can get a different reaction from you. This can be through pain or pleasure, they’re both the same to him. Clamping your nipples and pulling them until they’re red and sore or landing slaps on your hole for squirming too much. Writing your reactions down on his clipboard and looking at you as nothing more than one of his specimens to pull apart and observe. If he notices a reaction he hasn’t seen from you before he’ll try again and again to recreate it no matter how taxing that may be on your body. Speculums are a favourite of his, prying open and inspecting your most private parts, pressing his fingers or different toys in to see how you react, spread hole twitching at the stimuli and unable to do anything about it. It feels intimate and violating in a way he loves to be able to look at your inner most parts so coldly and close up.

Yautja/predator (female and male)

Yautja are naturally pretty dominant in bed, the whole culture they live in revolves around shows of strength and resilience. Your mate thrives off taking care of all of your needs and proving themselves worthy and this is no different in bed. Always happy to satisfy your needs as your lover and the one who cares for you, your mate will come to help out any time they smell your arousal.

Female Yautja

Your mate naturally takes care of you in bed, a headstrong women who has earned her place on the higher end of society, because of this she loves to dress you up in the finest clothing and jewellery on Yautja prime, showing off her status and by proxy, yours. Don’t think you’re going to just leave the house in it though, she’ll pin you down, eyes taking in every part of you, the way the silky fabric lays across your centre, ready to be opened like a gift. The outfit will include a gold collar to match, one with her mark carved in it so everyone knows who you belong to. She may even take to fucking you in public if anyone tries to challenge her bond with you, your abused hole on display for anyone to see.

As your mate she trusts you to return the favour, however control isn’t given over that easily. You may be the one inside her cunt but she’s the one using you until your spent, a death grip on your collar as she looks down at you from on top, snarling in your face and a placing marking nips against your throat with her mandibles.

Once mating season rolls around she’ll be even more demanding, the instinct to mate and breed you at its peak. You’ll be kept in the nest of furs and fucked over and over. If you pass out? Not her problem, she’ll keep going until she’s satisfied your scented up and marked properly. She takes no brattiness during this time either, acting out or being difficult will earn you getting pinned to the furs, mandibles flared and snarling until you submit.

Male yautja

Another one I think would enjoy primal/predator play. Your mate stalks you through the jungle whilst cloaked. He knows your every exact move and you’re none the wiser. He loves how he can taste your fear in the air but he knows it’s all for show because he can taste you arousal permeating the dense tree’s too. He’ll appear out of nowhere just as your adrenaline reaches it’s peak and swipe your ankles, forcing you down to the leafy floor with him. He lets out a clicky laugh at the surprise scream you let out. Wasting no time he mounts you like an animal and ruins you again and again until your both spent.

Your mate can tell when you’re ovulating and he’s ecstatic to help. Blood is so common to him in his daily life it doesn’t phase him at all, he’s perfectly happy to get down and a little messy, you smell so sweet to him during this time. If this matches with his rutt then you aren’t leaving the bed for a few days, he’ll fuck into you mercilessly until his swollen knot pops inside you, connecting you both together. Once it deflates he’ll scoop his cum back up and push it into your hole, not wanting to waste a drop.

Sometimes it’s nice to be taken care of, and you prove this by absolutely destroying him. Go feral, show him how much of a capable mate you are, wrestle him to the floor and ruin his hole, leave bites and marks on him to claim him. He’ll snarl the whole time and fight back but he loves it. He may even let you use a toy/strap with a knot on it to emulate being seeded and stuffed at the end.

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 1

Surprise!!! I have six chapters of this and really need to start getting it out, so I figured with Act 1 ending last week and my backlog on this and Of Butterflies and Backstrokes (Olympic Swimmer) being so low thanks to me trying to the Halloween themed sequel to Icarus (Metal Band) that I would put this out until I build that back up and lower the amount of backlog this one has.

Summary: Eddie Munson is a in bind, set to go on a three month reunion tour, he is in need of nanny for his twin girls Janice and Joan since his partner, Ethan blew up their lives a year ago. Enter nanny extraordinaire, Steve Harrington. Both men struggle with treading the line between boss/nanny and their strong attraction to each other. Will Eddie learn to trust again? Will Steve realize that he was always meant to be right there by Eddie's side?

~

Eddie hung up the phone with a sigh. He wanted to do the tour, because of course he did. But he also had two very rambunctious little girls now. Eddie was a good dad, but he wasn’t the nurturing kind the way Ethan was. But sometime in the last year, Ethan had changed.

He had grown distant and cold, going as far as yelling at the girls which he never used to do. So Eddie quit producing music to give Ethan some much needed time for himself. Fat lot of good that did.

Because apparently Ethan was banging...well, just about everyone but Eddie’s friends. The pool boy, the guy who delivered their food, the cleaning lady, their personal trainer, hell even the barely legal dog walker got more of his husband’s dick than Eddie did.

Which he didn’t find out, by the way. Ethan had told him after handing him divorce papers and legally renouncing parental rights to Joan and Janice. He threw it in Eddie’s face the numerous affairs he had. The one thing he wouldn’t tell him was why.

Why was Ethan so unhappy when Eddie had done everything right?

He buried his head in hands. Janice and Joan were only four and they had been adopted at birth. They never met the mother and were only told that she didn’t want them and never wanted to see them ever again.

So how could Ethan look at those two little angels and decide the same?

Eddie was heartbroken and not ready to move on. So he had agreed to the tour as a way to cope with the sudden explosion of his life. His friends knew Ethan had left, but they didn’t know the extent of his ex’s destruction.

He thought about taking the girls with him, but they were too little. They wouldn’t have fun and would be more terrified then thrilled. So live-in nanny it was.

Thankfully he had a month to find someone who would cook and clean and watch the girls. Especially after having to fire all of his help in the wake of Ethan’s destruction.

He had this.

~

Eddie did not in fact have this. He only had three more days until he left and he was at his wit’s end. He had rejected candidate after candidate for a myriad of reasons. One only wanted part-time despite the ad before a live in nanny. Another said she was strict disciplinarian and thought spanking was the only way to teach a child. And even another just gave off weird vibes.

So he called the agency one more time.

“You’ve gone through all of our female nannies,” the woman huffed on the other end of the line. “We only have male nannies left, surly you don’t–”

“Just send the best male nanny you’ve got!” Eddie barked. “I don’t care about gender for fuck’s sake.”

“I’m not sure–” the woman protested but Eddie hung up on her.

He didn’t have time to listen to whatever excuse she was going to come up with. He was running out of time before the tour and needed someone. Anyone.

He got a call back five minutes later from another woman telling him that they would be sending over their best male nanny at 2pm if that was acceptable.

He sighed with relief. “Yes, that will be perfect. The girls will be down for their nap then.”

“That’s wonderful, Mr. Munson,” she said cheerfully. “The gentleman we are sending over, his name is Steve Harrington, and I sincerely hope he will be a good fit for you.”

“You and me both,” Eddie sighed again. “You and me both.”

~

When Steve got to the house, he would have liked to have said that he wasn’t impressed because he had seen dozens of large houses and even larger sprawling mansions in his time as a full time nanny, but he was. Very much so.

It wasn’t a gaudy modern monstrosity for starters. It liked a Victorian era manor that had been modernized for living in today. It gave off a spooky vibe, but in a fun way and not a horror movie way. Like the Addams family or the Munsters kind of vibe.

He really dug it.

He went up and knocked on the door. It swung open almost immediately to reveal a pretty, petite woman with sparkling green eyes and strawberry blonde hair. She had a sweet smile.

He knew this wasn’t the mother, the file said that it was a single father of twin girls. A rockstar of some sort, though Steve didn’t recognize the name. This must be some kind of servant or PA or something.

“Hi, I’m Steven Harrington,” he greeted putting out his hand for her to shake. “I have a two o’clock appointment with Eddie Munson about the nanny position.”

Her smile widened, dimpling her cheeks. “Hi, I’m Chrissy Cunningham, I’m Corroded Coffin’s manager. Come on in, he’s waiting for you.”

Steve followed her through the house. It was just as impressive as the outside. It was beautifully decorated in dark browns, reds, and black. God, he hoped he got the job. He could really see himself living here.

She opened the door to the office allowed him to walk through, closing it behind him. Which normally wouldn’t have been a problem for Steve but now he was in a room with the hottest guy he had ever seen in his life and he really didn’t need an erection at a job interview.

Eddie looked up, and yup. Steve was done for. He had the biggest brown eyes he had ever seen outside of a Disney cartoon.

“Mr. Munson?” he said, reaching out for a handshake, mustering up every ounce of professionalism he had. “Steven Harrington, how do you do? You can call me Steve.”

Eddie grinned back. “Hey, Steve. Thanks for coming at such a short notice. I understand you’ve been brought up to speed on everything I’ll be needed you to do?”

Steve crossed his legs and put his hands on his lap. Shit, even his voice was sexy as fuck.

“Yes, I’ll be watching the children twenty-four/seven,” Steve recited dutifully, “with doing all of the cooking and some of the cleaning.”

“That’s right,” Eddie said. “That normally wouldn’t be the case, but I’ve had to recently fire all of my staff. In fact, if you are hired on, you’ll be working with Chrissy over the next couple of months to help bring staff back on. I would be putting a lot of trust in you not to fuck me over.”

Steve nodded. It was a bit like Robin’s period dramas. He would be running the household while Eddie was away.

“Wouldn’t Chrissy be needed on tour with you?” he asked, not sure what her role actually was.

Eddie shook his head. “She usually does, but I need her here to help to get this house running again. It was hard enough trying to explain to the girls why everyone had to leave. Especially their other dad. She just has her own place and a very demanding job. And the other people I trust with my kids are going on tour with me, so...”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Steve said huffing out a chuckle. “I’m willing and able to take the job. There is just one more thing we have to do first.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “I don’t think I offered you the job yet.”

Steve burst out laughing. “No, I don’t suppose you did. But you really should. I’m really good with kids, I’m great cook, my references are impeccable, I have a degree in early child development, and you’re desperately out of time.”

“I noticed that all your previous families had older kids,” Eddie said picking up Steve’s resume. “Can you explain that?”

“Yes,” Steve said with a sigh. “Unfortunately, despite being practically perfect in every way,” Eddie huffed out a small laugh, “if I was a woman I would be the most sought after nanny in the whole god damned state. Even more so if I was older fifty. But because I’m a young man not even thirty yet and all they see is a predator.”

Eddie winced. He held up a finger. He picked up his phone and called the agency. “Hello? Hi Nancy, this is Eddie Munson. Yes, I will be taking Steve Harrington on as my nanny. Thank you so much for sending him over. Can you tell me who it was the first person I spoke to this morning? Yes, yes that’s the one. Kindly inform her that pushing harmful stereotypes only makes you look stupid. Mhmm. Yes. Yes. I want her fired. Thank you. Goodbye.”

Steve looked at him in awe. “Oh wow.”

Eddie grinned at him but before he could open his mouth to say something more, Chrissy poked her head in. “Sorry to disturb you but guess who woke up?”

“Janice?” Eddie replied with a fond smile.

“And guess who woke up her sister because she wanted someone to play with?” Chrissy said.

“Also Janice.” He sighed and turned to Steve. “You want to meet my little monsters?”

Steve smiled and stood up. “That was the one thing I was going to suggest we do before you hire me, is meet the girls. But having met their dad, I can already tell they’re going to be a handful.”

“Hey!” Eddie protested. But Chrissy laughed.

“Come on,” he said grumpily, “let’s go see the munchkins.”

Chrissy opened the door all of the way and Eddie and Steve followed her out. They reached the kitchen and there seating at a table were two of the cutest kids Steve had ever worked for. They both had light, curly brown hair and deep brown eyes, but that was where their similarities ended.

The one of the right had her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail with a denim overalls over a pink shirt. The overalls had a cute pink kangaroo on the pocket on the front. The girl on the left had her hair carefully braided and wore light blue shirt and a black pleated skirt. They were both munching on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

“Meet Janice and Joan,” Eddie said brightly. “Janice is the one on the right and the other is Joan. Janice is the oldest by seven minutes and she never lets Joan forget it.”

Joan stuck her tongue out at her dad around her sandwich and then went back to munching on it. Janice looked over at Steve and cocked her head to the side.

“Who’s that, Daddy?” she asked. And suddenly Steve was struck by how much the little girl acted like her dad.

“Girls,” Eddie said sternly, “do you remember when I said that Daddy was going to be gone for three months and you were going to be looked after by a new friend?”

Joan scrunched her nose and Steve was endeared. “Is he like one of those nannies that were so mean to us?”

“No, of course not, Joanie,” Eddie said, “not a nanny...” He looked to Steve for help.

“I’m what’s called an au pair,” he said brightly. “I’m here to watch over you and do a little of the cooking and cleaning, too. A nanny wouldn’t do that right?”

Joan and Janice shared a glance. And Steve was struck for the first time that they were really were twins. They acted so differently that he had already put them in separate boxes. But they moved in unison as they both shrugged.

“I guess not,” Janice huffed. “Are you going to be fun like Chrissy or strict like Daddy?”

The adults laughed as Steve walked over to the table. “My hope is to be somewhere in the middle. But I guess we’ll just have to see.”

He turned to Eddie and Chrissy. “If it’s all right, I’d like to get started now, give the girls time to get use to my presence while you’re still here, Eddie. That way we can smooth out any real problems before you go.”

Chrissy and Eddie shared a glance.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, “that’ll be fine. Great even. I’ll give you a couple of hours to get your things and come back here. Would you be okay making us dinner?”

Steve beamed at him. “Sure, give me an idea of what you guys like and I’ll find something to make you. Let’s consider it part of the interview.”

Eddie smiled back. “Well I think you have yourself a deal.”

Steve and Eddie shook hands.

This was either going to the best decision of Eddie’s life or his worst. Currently the jury and his brain were still out on that one.

~

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[bboricha]

we did... what in your mind?!

➳ wc: ~600 ➳ pairings: pervert streamer!kaedehara kazuha x mind reader afab!reader ➳ cw: shibari, one (1) hickey, pet name (my love), praise kink if u squint ➳ kabukicho bad trip: 5wirl edition masterlist

synopsis: you're in lit class with one of the most famous people at your university, kaedehara kazuha, a streamer. you happen to be bored and ran out of things to do, letting your eyes wander around the room and you end up meeting kazuha's, getting a glimpse into his mind.

you're sitting in class, zoning out to the droning voice of your professor, going on about Chaucer or Conrad or something—you're not sure, you don't really care. heart...darkness...canterbury... it's whatever, it's not important.

you've already run out of things to do on your laptop too. solitaire? you're tired of it. tetris? you might rage even if it isn't a rage kind of game. amazon? you're too broke. you huff out a frustrated breath, opting to look around the class instead, to maybe daydream, or maybe listen to what others have to say. in their minds, you mean.

yes, you'd rather not listen to other people's thoughts because you know how creepy it would be if they knew, because you know, you just want to respect their privacy. but sometimes you genuinely can't help it if you happen to make eye contact with them—that’s what triggers it after all. it’s kind of hard though to keep your eyes cast down all the time because you also try to make an effort to seem like a normal, sociable person. it just gets awkward sometimes when you're speaking and they start thinking of a lunch menu instead.

your eyes wander over to kaedehara kazuha—a popular streamer known for his parasocial relationships with his fans that happen because he's apparently genuinely nice. not that it matters, but his existence in your class has been a bit of a nuisance to say the least. at the start of the semester, people used to flock around your class at the beginning and the end in hopes of snapping a photo of him. you understand why, he's very attractive pretty and famous, who wouldn't want a picture of an internet celebrity? a lot of people actually, but it doesn't too much anymore because apparently he asked on stream for people to stop it and to your surprise, they actually listened (lol). 

it was then his eyes met yours and you flinch, a barrage of obscene images flooding your head.

”you actually like being tied up, don’t you?” kazuha asks, the breath of his voice hits your ear as he tugs on the binds around your body, pulling you towards him. the red rope digs into your skin, the sting complementing the way his fat cock drags inside your walls. he sucks a mark onto the crook of your neck, promptly pushing you back into his pillows as he takes hold of your hips, spreading you apart as he pulls out, leaving just the tip in.

“you’re sucking me in so… much,” he groans, slowly thrusting back inch by inch, making you whine against his sheets begging for him to go faster. “patience is a virtue, my love.”

he bottoms out, grinding on you when he tugs at the rope again, tears falling from your eyes as a result. he takes notice of this, caging you with his frame as he leans in, the angle of his cock seemingly hitting you even deeper than before (if it was even possible), and he wipes the tears from your eyes.

“just a bit more, alright? you’re doing so well,”

you gasp, averting your eyes and immediately slapping a hand over your mouth to prevent any more unprompted noises. what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?? you think, entirely unsure how to process this sudden surge of information. you cautiously look back up towards kazuha’s direction against your better judgment, almost flinching for a second time when you notice his stare. he mouths a “are you ok,” his thoughts reading as genuinely concerned so you vehemently nod your head and he smiles in return. you can feel your cheeks heating up as you place your arm on the desk, resting your chin on your hand and returning your attention to your computer that was left open on a new tab.

➳ an: foaming at the mouth i love ooc kazuha where there's more than meets the eye with him oh god

[writteninlunarlight-years]

The moment they realized they were in love (First Realization)

Adam

When Adam first met you, he was attacking the hotel full force and on his deathbed. However, he noted how well you fought and how forceful you were in combat.

This admiration only followed when he awoke in hell, and Charlie took him to the hotel to attempt redemption. Even though you were initially cold to him, he couldn't help but appreciate you.

The Vees became the hotel's primary foe once Adam had become a sinner. Battle after battle occurred on the front lawn. You were so protective and forward-thinking that no one had a chance to hurt him.

He started seeking you out not for any reason other than wanting to understand your motives better and why you acted the way you did. However, this was a horrible lie he told to save face.

During a recent battle, you got struck and hurt pretty severely with an angelic weapon Val shot off. All the pieces aligned with Adam as he watched you fall. He couldn't imagine life without you.

Adam fought the hardest he ever had and was the biggest factor in your victory against the Vees. He did not care for the praise or boasting the others gave; all he cared about was nursing you back to health.

Alastor

You had been a good worker at Mimzy's bar, always taking the flapper girl role very seriously, even though you died long after that.

Alastor met you a handful of times, always appreciating how well you fit the outfits and danced with the other girls and band. Jazz was always his all-time favorite, but the club played great swing tunes.

It was the day that you began wearing a specific red number gifted to you by your boss, and Alastor made his monthly visits weekly and eventually daily.

He enjoyed watching everyone cowered away from you when he sat center floor to witness your best performances. He was always right there smiling and cheering you on.

He never realized how these growing affections turned into love till he saw that stupid loan shark put his hands on you. As soon as he did, he was a dead man, and Alastor stood before everyone, threatening them.

You were thankful, and the simple touch of your arm so you didn't break his boundaries sent his heart soaring higher. He realized he was a dead man walking when it came to you in his life.

Husk

Being a slave to your soul bind was hard work for some and easy for others. You were one of the lucky few who got an easy life working under Rosie.

Husk admired how you always had a genuine smile and a go-getting problem-solving attitude. Even when it came to his sour pussy cat attitude.

Due to Rosie's favoritism over you, it was quick work for you to earn favoritism with Alastor, letting the grumpy bar cat have some more much-needed freedoms.

He wouldn't lie; having you around was his immediate enjoyment of your presence. However, things changed as you talked to him more and listened to him as well.

He realized how fucked he was when you sat there with a soft smile on your face letting him talk about anything and everything. When Al came downstairs and went to order him around, you sat there firm in your place, shooing the deer off.

He would do anything to thank you for the little bits of freedom you keep granting him and the kind warmth you emanate from that smile he adores.

Lucifer

When you stumbled upon the Hazbin Hotel, everyone was amazed how someone so cheerful and outgoing like Charlie could be a sinner and an alive one at that.

However, you were quickly acclimated and right by Charlie's side, helping Vaggie get her girlfriend's dreams up and running—something Lucifer noticed right away.

You never saw anything as too outlandish or even weird; you were just right there helping in any way you could, which is something he began to love about you.

You also extended this sunshine positivity to him, which only elated him more. No amount of darkness or fear was safe from you and your warm positivity.

He knew he fell the moment he eagerly expected your appearance in his daughter's study. No, he couldn't wait to see you enter his, which would only be five minutes later; he had to see you now.

Of course, as soon as you entered and a bright smile crossed your face, he knew he was safe and could conjure anything up, and you would be right there by him, making it all work out.

Vox

He first encountered you when you were looking for a job after you fell to hell. Your looks screamed sex work; however, your personality fit more of an office role.

He didn't know why he took pity on you, so instead of letting Val have you, he stepped in and gave you a job as a secretary in VoxTech.

You were a diligent and hard worker who ensured he never missed a meeting or production interview. He was honestly grateful for how meticulous and organized you were.

You even helped the other Vees, which took much off his plate. He was so thankful you learned how to calm Val and assist Vel.

He realized the fatal error in his plans, though, when he saw Val trying to make a pass at you. He was livid and quickly explained to Val that you were his and his alone.

Though he refused to admit to you or anyone else why he was so hostile about the interaction, he knew deep down that it was because you were growing on him. You were designed to be so helpful to him, no one else.

Prompt assistance: @literallurker

[absurdthirst]

Dominating the General {Marcus Acacius x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.5k

Warnings: Courtesan Reader, prostitution, dominatrix, dom/sub dynamic, power imbalance, oral sex (female receiving), grinding, cum eating, fingering, praise, punishment, face slapping, controlling an orgasm, after care, cock binding, oral sex (male receiving), orgasm denial, overstimulation, anal fingering, bondage, cock warming, whipping, anger/frustration, menstrual blood, menstrual cramps, period sex, role reversal

Comments: The weight of Rome weighing on his shoulders, General Marcus Acacius seeks you out. A skilled courtesan with a speciality in taking control and giving pleasure to those who obey. Finding freedom in allowing you to dominate him.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Marcus Acacius MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

His stomach churns, in fear or perhaps anticipation, the acid rolling and making his steps slow as he approaches the ornate entrance. There is nothing forbidden or taboo about where he is going. Many men seek entertainment within the carved limestone walls. The pleasure to be had within the bodies of those that work there. He would not be rebuked for seeking out an evening in the most famous brothel in all of Rome. 

Marcus Acacius would be expected to have lovers while he is in the city, resting from his latest conquest and campaigns for the glory of the empire. It would be viewed as unfavorable if he did not seek pleasure. However, only a few, a discreet selection of men who shared his predilections, would ever know why he was seeking out this particular pleasure den out of the many others around the city. Who he was seeking out inside those walls. Senator Crassus had given him the name, assured him of the satisfaction that would be found. Now he simply needs to enter and give the mistress your name. 

The brothel where you live is part bathhouse, part theater and part temple. As large as the Basilica, more ornate than the Pantheon, and more welcoming than the Baths of Diocletian, the brothel was home to hundreds of talented prostitutes. Men of all ages would come to seek solace and entertainment. Whispers of your fame and talents were murmured into ears and many sought and were denied your favors. It is your home and you find amusement in knowing that many important and powerful men bow to your whims and eagerly rush to obey your orders. 

Unlike the other men and women of your brothel, you do not take orders. You give them. You take control and power from men to make them feel weak. You control their pleasure and they shower you with coins and jewelry to do so. You have been proposed to by three senators and have been begged to become a permanent mistress to countless more. Turning them all down because it would give them more power over you than you would want. 

Your name is given by Marcus with a nervous lick of his lips and the madame strides off to inform you of your appointment. "Send him back." You declare, knowing that Marcus will not want to be paraded through the halls. The others who have been paid to keep him company have spoken of his ability to pleasure and you are excited to experience the brave General on his knees for you. Marcus swallows harshly as he walks through the marbled halls, his stomach twisting in anticipation and he finds himself at a door where the madame declares it to be yours. "You may go in." She gestures and walks off, leaving Marcus to take a deep breath for a moment. He inhales and reaches for the metal, pushing the door open to enter your room.

“Stop.” You give him the order the second the door closes behind him. Sitting on the edge of your chair, you watch him freeze. A good sign, one that he could obey orders. “Take off your clothes and come to the center of the room to kneel down.” You are eager to see what the life long soldier’s body looks like. You have heard that he is well endowed and you want to see how long it takes for him to get hard. 

His cock twitches at the mere idea of being naked while you stand there fully clothed. He nods and reaches for the hem of his tunic, not wanting to dress in armor when it's not needed, and he kicks off his sandals before he walks into the center of the room and kneels, his dark eyes focused on the marble floor instead of you, knowing you'll need to give him permission.

“Good boy.” You let him wait for a moment in silence, watching as his cock slowly starts to fill. Hardening and lifting up from his groin. You slowly stand, humming as you take in the broad shoulders, the lines around his eyes and scars that adorn his body. This is a man who has lived many lives, battled for his very soul and now he is yearning to give up control to someone else. To you. “When you are in this room, you are to obey me.” You instruct, your sandals striking against the marble floor as you walk around him, looking at him as if you were inspecting a servant. “If you disobey me one time, you will be punished. Two times, you will be sent away.” You believe in being upfront. “Three times and you will be denied my attentions until I feel you have learned.” 

Marcus lets out a whimper, turned on by hearing the rules. He wants to give control to someone else. He doesn't want to think about anything when he's here. He just wants to follow orders. "Words." You demand and he chokes out, "yes, domina." He hardens when you move to stand in front of him but he keeps his eyes on the floor.

Lifting your leg, you drape it over his shoulder and your gown that is slit down the middle, parts to reveal your cunt to his eyes. “I am going to use your tongue for my pleasure.” You tell him. “Eat my cunt. I want to see how well you can pleasure me.” 

Marcus knows this is a test and he groans, surging forward to slide his tongue through your folds. His tongue flicks over your clit as he closes his eyes and groans at the way you taste.

You are surprised at his eagerness, most powerful men balk at the first true test of giving over control. So used to be the ones to receive pleasure, they are almost shocked to learn that the women they fuck want to have the same. You don’t make a sound, withholding them from Marcus to see how he responds. 

Your moan makes his cock twitch and he resists the urge to touch you, his hands on his thighs as he lets you rock your cunt against his face while his tongue slides into your pussy.

His tongue is quick, he feels the way your thighs tense and shake when you like the flick of his tongue and he repeats the move. He’s a quick learner, making you smile even though he cannot see you. It will be fun to control this one, to see him fall apart for you and give you every piece of him. 

Your moan spurs him on, wanting to make you feel good. He groans into your flesh and hisses at the way your fingers tangle in his hair. It's painful but his cock throbs at the feeling. His nails dig into his flesh as he restrains from touching his cock.

You can tell he wants to touch himself. HIs shoulders are tense and his head jutting forward to busy himself with your cunt. He’s good, obeying your orders and just doing what you tell him too. “You are going to make me cum. Won’t you?” You haven’t decided on a name for him yet, but it will come to you. 

He grunts into your flesh, wordlessly letting you know he will make you cum. That's not good enough and you pull his head back, forcing him to look up at you. His chin is slick, eyes dilated as he looks up at you. His chest heaves and pre-cum drips onto the floor as he whines softly, desperate to be buried back in your cunt.

“Answer me.” You demand again, yanking on his hair hard enough to make him moan again and his cock twitches as it sits neglected. “Yes, domina.” He quickly agrees, trying to nod too, but you are still holding his hair. “Good pet.” You coo mockingly and push his face back into your cunt. “Now do it.” 

Marcus groans, diving back into your folds and he slides his tongue back into your cunt, his nose pressed against your clit as he is desperate to feel and hear you cum for him. His nails scratch his skin as he tries to refrain from touching himself.

You tilt your head back and groan. He is doing a good job and you are impressed with how well he takes orders. Much better than the senators that will come to visit you. It takes another few minutes of his tongue pushing inside you before your stomach clenches, your cunt gushing and soaking his face with your juices. “Good.” You pant. “That’s good.” 

Marcus pulls back, his cock leaking onto the floor and he pants, his eyes hooded in arousal as he looks up at you. “Domina.” He pleads, the sound almost caught in his throat as he waits for your next order. This is what he wanted. To be out of control, to let go for a little while and not be the man in charge.

You reach down, caressing his cheek gently as you pull your leg off his shoulder and press the edge of your sandal against his throbbing cock. “Rub against my foot like a good boy.” You order, tapping his cheek gently. The desperation in his eyes is beautiful.

Most men would say fuck no and demand you get down on your knees to suck their cock but your words make him whine and he is desperate to cum. He groans, rocking his hips down so he can grind against your sandal, his chest heaving with the movements and it doesn’t take long for him to fall apart. He cums on your sandal, dripping down onto the floor as he lets out a loud moan of satisfaction. It’s the best release he’s had in months and he’s not even been inside you yet.

You are surprised that he has cum so quickly, it informs you that Marcus is a man who is very pent up. He has not had a release that he has not been in control of in years, maybe ever. “Now you must clean up your mess.” You tell him, making him frown slightly because he doesn’t understand. “Lick up your spend.” You order, looking down at your cum covered foot.

Marcus’s eyes widen but he doesn’t deny you. He nods, leaning in to start licking at your toes. The salty seed coating his tongue and he doesn’t care about the taste as his dark eyes watch you as he sucks on your toe. He wants to please you so you’ll give him more pleasure.

It’s surprising that he did not protest. Another positive mark for him. “You follow orders well.” You coo, pulling your foot away from his mouth. Your cunt is aching and despite wanting his cock inside you, the first session is never an option. “Now you will stand up and move over to the bed.”

Marcus stumbles to his feet, his cock already hardening again and he looks at you, “how do you want me, domina?” He asks and you smirk, “lay down.” He nods and follows your order, laying down on the bed and he licks his lips, tasting his salty cum lingering but he doesn’t care about that, eager to see what you do next.

You lay down beside him, opening your thighs and the folds of your dress fall open. “You will finger me,” you decide. “I wish to see if your hands only bring destruction or if they can bring pleasure as well.”

His eyes darken as they take in your body, you’re gorgeous and he knows you must have men eating out the palm of your hand. He nods, shifting closer and he slides his hand along your thigh, loving the way you feel as he brings his hand up to slide his fingers through your folds.

You have always enjoyed being touched, being stroked to pleasure. Finding so many men ignorant of how to touch a woman beyond their poor attempts to do just the bare necessities, it is a surprising pleasure to feel how his fingers slide around in a slow circle, not just immediately going to your clit and rubbing furiously. Mapping out your entire sex with his digits and even swiping over the skin between your pussy and your puckered hole before coming back up to make another pass at your clit. “That is not fingering me.” You point out and Marcus ducks his head in acknowledgement. “I was wetting my fingers, domina.” His voice is low, respectful and you hum in approval.

His fingers push into you, obeying your order, and his digits are thick as he pushes two into your wet cunt. He lets out a small groan at how hot and velvety you feel around his fingers and he starts to work them in and out of your cunt.

You watch his brow pull together, furrowed slightly as he pumps his fingers in and out slowly. “Do not think.” You urge him. “I will tell you if I want you to change something. You just feel what you are doing to me.”

Marcus nods and continues to work his fingers in and out of you. He wants you to clamp down on his fingers. He wants to please you. He wants to make you moan his name. He wants to make you want him.

His brow smoothes out and you watch as his shoulders relax. His body responding to not being in charge and letting someone take over again. “Good boy.” You praise, reaching up and caressing his cheek gently.

Your praise makes his cock twitch and he relaxes as you order him to curl his fingers. He follows your demand and you moan when he hits that spot inside you.

Once he has found that spot, it doesn’t take long for you to get worked up. Your thighs might tense and you push your hips down against his fingers. “Do not stop.”

He doesn’t stop. He can’t. He wants to watch you fall apart. His dark eyes on yours as he watches you take what he offers. You moan and the sound is like music to Marcus’s ears. He works his fingers at the same pace, letting you take what you need.

You can feel the brushing of his cock against your leg as he continues to work his fingers inside you. Making you proud that he has not started rutting against you. “Make me cum and I will give you pleasure again.” You promise, reaching out and curling your fingers around his cock and squeezes.

He hisses when you grip his cock and he tries to not thrust into your touch. He knows that wouldn’t please you. He pushes his fingers into you, desperate to feel and hear you cum. “Please, domina.” He begs, wanting you to cum for him, to please you.

His plea throws you over the edge, clamping down on his fingers as you use his name for the first time since he has entered the room. “Marcus!”

He whimpers as he watches you fall apart for him. It’s intoxicating to know he’s pleased you and he is not in control of your pleasure. You are. Your grip tightens on his cock and he bites his lip as he watches you work through your orgasm.

You bat his hand away and push him onto his back after letting go of his cock. Still wearing your dress, you straddle his waist and press the soaking folds of your cunt against the underside of his cock. “I never let a man fuck me our first session.” You admit, caressing his chest. “I am tempted though, so I will pleasure you as closely to being inside me as I can.”

Marcus whines, wishing you would sink down on his cock but the whine is cut short when you slap him. His eyes widen and you grip his chin, “you take what I give you.” You growl and he nods, “yes, domina.” You start to rock against his cock, the feeling making his eyes roll in the back of his head.

You roll your hips expertly, having learned that the wet slide of your folds feels good for a man. Not quite as much as having a wet cunt around him, but it is a good reward for him being good so far. “Pull my dress down and squeeze my tits.”

He follows your order, reaching up to pull your dress down, exposing your tits to his hungry eyes, and he groans at the sight of your breasts. He cups them, his eyes flicking up to yours to make sure it’s okay, and he watches your mouth fall open as you rock on top of him.

This is for your pleasure as much as his. Moaning softly at how good it feels, you cover his hands over your breasts and squeeze harshly, showing him how you like your breasts handled.

He squeezes and kneels your flesh, loving the way you moan and he rocks up against your cunt, wanting more, needing to feel more of you. He’s desperate and he isn’t afraid to show it.

You slap his cheek again, this time a little harder than before and his eyes widen. “Do not move unless I tell you.” You hiss. “Did I tell you to move? Did I say that you could rut against me like a dog?”

“No, domina.” Marcus apologizes quickly and forces his hips back down to the bed. “I am sorry.” 

“You will learn.” You know that he is just starting out and he is very used to having his own way, but he sought you out specifically to give you control. “You will find more pleasure if you obey me.” You coo. “I reward my pets. But I will spank your ass until it is red if you disobey me again tonight, and you will not cum.”

Your words make him twitch against your folds and he’s so close. “Domina. I’m - I’m close.” He warns you, knowing you could punish him if he cums before you want him to. “Please.” He begs, wanting permission.

“It is good you let me know.” You grind down against his cock a little harder and appreciate the way his body seems to tense, trying to hold out for you to give your permission. “You will cum for me now.” You command, reaching between you to massage the head of his cock as it slips out from your folds. “Cum.”

His eyes close as his stomach clenches at your touch. He groans and you grip his chin with your other hand, “look at him. I need you to look at me.” You demand and he struggles but manages to open his eyes just as he cums, he falls apart beneath you, cum spitting against your fingers as he moans.

His cum spurts against his stomach, painting up his chest as he moans again. “Domina.” You hum as you slowly continue to roll your hips, drawing out his pleasure until he is panting.

He feels boneless and he’s not even been inside you. He offers you a lazy smile of appreciation, “thank you, domina.” He murmurs, his eyelashes fluttering as he tries to come back down from Elysian Fields.

You decide that you won’t press him even more, he has performed well for his first time in your rooms. “You rest.” You hum softly, shifting off his lap. “When you are in my care, I will make sure you are cared for properly.”

He frowns, “but you didn’t finish.” He says and you smile, caressing his cheek, “it’s okay. You rest now, General.” You coo and he nods, closing his eyes as he relaxes on your sheets. He barely hears you as you prepare a rag to clean him and he only opens his eyes when you place a cup of wine at his lips, wanting to refresh him. “Thank you, domina.” He murmurs, enjoying the way his mind is peaceful, free of the horrors he experienced in the battlefield.

He ends up falling asleep in your bed and you let him rest. Sleeping for two hours before he wakes to find you sipping a cup of wine and picking a piece of fruit from a tray that had obviously been delivered to the room while he was asleep. “Now you will dress and return to your normal routine.”

Marcus nods, shifting off of the bed and he reaches for his tunic to pull it over his head. He feels almost boneless and he loves it. He slides his feet into his sandals and looks over at you, “thank you, domina. Can I - will you allow me to come back?”

“I will.” You smirk slightly as you watch him regain some of the commanding presence he had shed for you. “I will send word to let you know when I will see you.”

Marcus nods, reaching for your hand to press a kiss to the back of it before he reaches into his pouch to pay you the coins you agreed upon. He sets the coins down on the table next to you and bows his head, “I’ll await your word.” He declares and makes his way out of your rooms, knowing you’ll want some peace.

You stare at the pouch of coins and smile before you reach for it. It seems like Marcus will be a good fit for you, eager to obey and surprisingly good at following orders even though he is used to giving them. It will be interesting to see how he behaves the next time he comes to you.

****

Marcus hasn’t heard from you for several days and it’s making him anxious. He taps his fingers on the table as he waits for your word. He picks up his wine and downs it, his back tense as he needs a release. The emperors have been breathing down his neck, wanting to send him back out to conquer more land but he is pushing back, telling them he needs more time to let his soldiers recuperate.

Knowing that he must be impatient, you finally send a servant to the general’s villa, instructing him to be in your rooms and ready for you in exactly one hour. It’s not a lot of time, and you have done that on purpose.

When Marcus receives word, his cock is already hardening as he thinks of what you’ll do to him this time. He takes his time as he strolls to the brothel, making his way into the back after he gives your name. He stands in your room and he knows what you’ll require. He strips off and kneels down on the floor, waiting for you to return.

This time you are fully nude, coming out of the small room off of your larger bedroom that the wash basin and pot is. Watching him in approval as he waits for you. His cock is already hard and you want to feel him inside you this time. “You were almost late.” You chide. “If you had been, you would not have been allowed in.”

​“I’m sorry, domina. The streets were busy and-” You cut him off, striding over to grab his hair and you tilt his head up to look at you, “no excuses.” You hiss and he twitches at the tinge of pain. “It won’t happen again.” He promises, his dark eyes darkening even more at the way you pull on his hair.

“You like the pain?” You tilt your head and smirk slightly. “Answer me.” You demand and he gulps. “I- I do.” He confesses breathlessly, his cock already leaking. “What else do you like?”

“I like - I like to not think. I don’t want to give orders or make decisions. I like pain that isn’t inflicted on someone else like I have to do in battle. I don’t want to think about anything but how I feel.” He confesses and he keeps his eyes on you.

“Now, was that so hard to confess?” You coo softly, reaching for the soft fabric that is wrapped around your wrist. “Stand for me, and I will give you both pain and pleasure that will have no other thoughts in your head.”

He stands, his head bowed as he waits for your instructions. “You will stand still and you will tell me if you aren’t comfortable. What is your word?” You ask and Marcus says “prohibere.” You coo, “very good.” He nods and you take the fabric in your hand, your eyes on his until you lean towards him.

His cock is already heavy and from the fullness of his balls, he has not sought out anyone or used his hand for pleasure since he had left your rooms days ago. Careful and expertly, you wrap the fabric around his genitals, binding them together and tightening it as you do. Hearing him groan, you look into his eyes. “Too tight?”

He shakes his head, “no. Not too tight. Just- I’ve never had this before.” He confesses, his stomach clenching as he looks down at his bound cock. “Fuck.” He curses softly, “domina.”

“This will aid you to not cum so quickly.” You caress his length and he moans softly. “You can prolong the pleasure, until the point where it aches.”

His eyebrows raise and he’s surprised he’s never heard of this in his travels but he’s intrigued. He nods and you squeeze his cock, making him moan again. “Domina. I need you.” He begs, wanting you to touch him some more. He’s held off all week, not touching himself in anticipation of you.

“Have you cum since the last time you were here?” You ask, smirking when he shakes his head. “Good boy.” You praise, sinking down to your knees to inspect his bound cock, “now I will make you cry out in frustration.”

He looks down at you, inhaling shakily as he struggles to breathe when your hot breath washes over his cock. The head is almost purple and leaking as he watches you kneel before him.

Instead of easing him into the feel of your mouth, you take the entire head into the wet heat immediately. Looking up to see his reaction.

He lets out a whine, his eyes fluttering shut as he rests his chin on his chest. He groans and his hands twitch but he doesn’t touch you. You take his cock deeper into your mouth and a spurt of pre-cum hits your tongue. He’s so worked up and he knows he has to hold back.

You hum around him, feeling his thighs tremble and you know that he is already wanting to cum despite the binding. Still, he will be taken to the edge many times before you finally allow him to cum.

He hisses and his nails dig into his palms as he tries to control himself. It’s so easy to give in to your touch and his cock twitches in your mouth. “Domina.” He whines softly, “I- I can’t.” He chokes, feeling the pressure build.

You pull away, stroking his hip while he pants, trying to calm down. “You can.” You urge. “You will.” It’s not a question of doubt in your mind. He will obey you and last as long as you want him to. “Close your eyes and concentrate on how it feels.”

He breathes through gritted teeth and he nods, inhaling deeply to try and calm down. You give him a moment and you take him back into your mouth, loving the way he groans like he could lose control any second. He squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to concentrate on not spilling into your mouth.

You take your time. Making it gentle this time. Adding another layer to the need that is building inside the general. Wrapping your hands around his body, your nails dig into the meat of his ass as your throat closes around his length.

He chokes on his breath, his fingers flexing as he feels your tight throat squeeze him. “Fuck, domina.” He rasps, his eyes still squeezed shut and he starts to count, wanting to be good for you.

You work his cock until his knees nearly buckle and then you pull back again. Your fingers slowly stroke between his hip and cock, waiting for him to calm down again. “Do you feel how heavy you feel? The ache in your limbs?”

He nods, “yes, domina. I feel like marble.” He confesses, inhaling deeply and trying to calm himself down so he doesn’t disappoint you. He wants to please you, to see that beautiful smile on your face when he follows your orders.

“Good.” You reach up and squeeze his hip. “You are doing well. You are following my orders perfectly.” He stiffens slightly under your praise and you smirk at how eager he is for it. “Now we will make your knees weak and your body beg for more.”

He groans, nodding with a plea in his eyes as you take him into your mouth again. He pants, feeling relieved at the wet heat of your tongue pressing against the underside of his cock. “Domina.” He murmurs, “feels so good.”

You hum around him, wanting to hear his sounds of pleasure and see him weak for your attention. Your tongue flutters against the base of his cock and you can feel the way that he wants to thrust into your mouth, the way he holds himself back.

He’s trying so hard to control himself and he clenches his fists, trying to control himself as you rock your jaw on his cock. “Fuck.” He hisses, trying to control himself, to be good for you.

​​This time, he’s worked up so quickly you have to jerk your mouth back when you feel the vein of his cock start to pulse. Hearing him whimper and you reach up to squeeze his balls gently. “Not yet.” You remind him. “You must take what I give you.”

He whimpers but he nods, knowing he needs to obey but gods, it’s hard to resist the urge to cum. “Yes, domina. Whatever you want.” He promises and you squeeze his balls again.

His eyes close and he moans softly, his cock weeping. He already looks wrecked, starting to sweat from the effort he is putting into holding himself back. “Good boy.” You murmur softly, leaning forward and running your tongue over the soft, full sacs beneath his cock.

He loves the way you praise him and that makes the pain of withholding his release worth it. He loves to please you, hear you praise him. You slide your tongue along his thigh as you give him a little time to calm down, and you squeeze his ass in your hands.

“Have you ever had someone put their fingers inside you? Fuck you?” You ask, knowing that some of the senators you have entertained have and some think that it’s unnatural. You don’t claim to judge but most men seem to like it if done properly.

He shakes his head, “no. No I haven’t but - but I’ve thought about it.” He confesses, “I’ve heard others talk about it and I wouldn’t mind - if it pleases my domina.” He says, looking at you through his eyelashes.

“Then we will see how you enjoy my fingers inside you.” You lean back from his body and stand. “Lay down on the bed.”

He nods, following your order as he makes his way over to the bed and lays down, his bound cock aching for you, for release, but his mind is blissfully empty as he waits for your touch.

The general is still, awaiting your orders as you move over to the small table where your perfumes and oils are kept. Selecting a costly vial and smirking as you walk over to the bed. “One day I will tie you to it.” You decide. “You would look good in bonds.”

He lets out a groan of approval at that, imagining being completely at your mercy. “Please, domina.” He isn’t too proud to beg as he awaits your movements, praying you let him find some kind of release when he’s so pent up. “I can be good.” He promises, keeping his hands above his head.

You hum and kneel on the bed. Watching as his chest heaves. “You will tell me if you do not like it.” You order, pushing his legs up and apart so you can see his puckered hole.

He lifts his legs higher, his stomach twisting with nerves and arousal as you slide your fingers across the puckered hole, coating it with the oil that makes him sliver slightly and he groans, “domina.”

You don't just push your fingers inside him, it's a slow process. Working the tip of your finger in and watching the myriad of emotions race across his face as his cock throbs and his body tries not to tense. "Relax." You soothe softly. "Just let me play with your body, you are my toy."

He inhales deeply, trying to relax as you work his puckered hole open. No one has touched him there so he’s tense but you push your finger a little deeper and his mouth falls open as he starts to enjoy the feeling. Your voice is soothing and he wants to be good for you.

You can feel how uncomfortable he is, but you decide to see how far he will hold against the new sensations mixed with the familiar so you lean forward to take him back into your mouth. Slowly pumping your finger deeper until it is all the way in and his hole is trembling around it.

He throws his head back against the sheets, eyes closed as you take him into your mouth and he hisses when you hollow your cheeks. “Fuck.” He curses, his fingers gripping the sheets as your finger works in and out of his ass.

You watch the way that he vibrates with need. The desperate whine that comes out of his chest. He can think of nothing but you and what you are doing to him, exactly what you want for him and what he needs. You hollow your cheeks and make your palette as soft as you can for him, caressing his cock lovingly.

He pants, getting closer and closer and you are winding him up. His stomach twists and he whines, knowing he cannot cum until you allow it. “Domina. I’m - I’m so close.” He confesses, almost chokes out as he clings to the bed sheets.

You stop moving your finger and pull your mouth away. “Calm yourself.” You urge him softly. “You can take more. I know you can. It feels almost blissful, does it not? The need that claws at you, consumes you so you are only thinking of that pleasure. It will be so sweet when you cum.”

He nods, a little desperate but he’s eager to obey you. He chokes as he tries to breathe and you look up at him, “do you want to use your safe word?” You ask and he shakes his head, “I’m okay. Just - allow me a moment to control myself.”

You nod, holding still and you don't touch him beyond your finger. Knowing that it would be cruel to push him past his breaking point when it would lead him to failing your orders. Your other hand brushes over his stomach gently, squeezing his hip in encouragement.

He manages to get his breathing under control. His cock still throbbing but no longer on the brink and the binds keep him from spilling without permission. He sighs, “I’m okay, domina.” He murmurs, looking down at you as he lifts his head.

You watch him carefully, giving him another moment before you decide to start pumping your finger again. The reaction is instantaneous, his thighs clenching slightly and his fingers curling into the sheets again as he moans. "Good boy." You lower your head and take him back into your mouth again, knowing this time you will release the bindings and let him cum into your mouth.

You work him up quickly and his cock twitches in your mouth. You press your finger into his prostate and he gasps, his legs jerking in surprise at the sensation. “Fuck. I need - please, domina. I’ve been good.” He pleads, choking on his breath.

Letting go of his hip, you unwind the binding from around his cock, hearing the filthy, breathless groan. You hum and suck harder around him before you pull away long enough to give him an order. "Cum." You demand before you are swallowing his cock down again.

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for him to find his release. He lets out a whine and squeezes his eyes shut as he falls apart for you. He lets out a loud groan as he starts to cum, hot spurts of seed hitting your tongue and the back of your throat as he swears he blacks out. His mind is completely empty except for how this feels. How you’ve made him feel.

You work him through it. Curling your finger deep and pressing against his prostate. Drinking him down and making sure that his cock pulses deliciously. Until his moan is one of soft protest and overstimulation. Making you hum and pull away to watch his hazy bliss.

He pants, relaxing into the bed beneath him as his cock starts to soften against his belly. He offers you a lazy smile as you slowly pull your finger from inside him. “That was…incredible.” He rasps, his eyelashes fluttering until he focuses on you, “how can I please you?”

You are impressed that he would wish to pleasure you. You slide off the bed and walk over to the table to pour a cup of wine. “I will ride you next time.” You promise. “This time you have been used hard. You need to rest.”

Marcus pouts but doesn't argue, he knows you'll punish him if he disobeys. He takes the cup of wine from your hand after he sits up, his body boneless from the pleasure and he loves how relaxed he feels. "Do you, uh, take care of yourself after?"

“Sometimes.” You smirk as you walk over to the little room to grab a cloth. “Or I will wait until I am entertaining again.” You wet it in the bowl and come back out to clean him up. “I think you will sleep deep tonight.”

Marcus hums, wishing he could make you fall apart on his tongue but he isn't in authority to demand you sit on his face. "I wouldn't mind watching." He smirks, unable to help himself as he allows his authority to leak through the submissive nature he's embracing.

Your brow lifts in amusement that he would voice such a want. "You like watching, general?" Your session is over and you are caring for him now, so the conversation can be more casual than before. "Perhaps you would enjoy being tied up so you could not touch yourself and watch as other's fuck?"

He smirks, regaining his normally cocky nature, “I meant watching you. I wouldn’t mind being tied up to watch you touch yourself. Or to watch but I’ve never really watched other than in whorehouses before I found my own company.” He admits, looking at you and admiring your profile.

You bring the cloth over and kneel on the bed so you can clean him up. Pushing his thighs apart again so you can see what you are doing. "I will consider it." You hum as you slip the cloth through his cheeks and smirk when he shivers. "Did you enjoy yourself this session?"

Marcus nods, “yes, domina.” You reach out to caress his cheek after you clean him up and he offers you a soft smile. “When can I come back?” He asks, eager to be inside you for the first time in the next session.

He is eager, and that speaks well for him. "Two days." You decide, striking slightly. "You are not touch yourself or find relief in another." You tilt your head to the side and reconsider. "If you touch yourself, you can only finger yourself, do not touch your cock, and do not cum." You order.

He nods, not wanting to disobey you, “yes domina.” He shifts off of the bed, grunting as his body is relaxed and he reaches for his tunic after he sets the cup of wine down on the side. “Thank you.” He says and he smiles at you, feeling almost giddy as the pressures of the world outside your door haven’t hit him yet.

You nod, aware that outside of this room, his social standing is much higher than yours. "Two days." You remind him, ignoring the curling in your stomach, the anticipation of experiencing his skills as a lover.

“Two days.” He agrees and he reaches for his pouch to fetch the coins he owes you. You are his new addiction. The way you make his mind go blank to the pleasure has him ready to come back to your rooms as soon as possible.

****

He is so eager for your attention that he shows up early. You are not ready when the servant brings him to your door and you smirk to yourself when you see that he is already naked and on his knees, his cock hard and jutting up proudly from his lap. "You are eager to please today." You comment, wrapped in a thin robe and your feet bare. Your hair is not styled and you have none of the perfumes or oils on your skin like you would normally have. Fresh from your bath, you are as you prefer to be when you are not entertaining.

You look fresh and clean and that makes Marcus’s mouth water. “I am. I have not touched myself.” He promises, his cock twitching and his balls heavy as he thinks about being inside you. He’s thought about it many times and he’s eager to experience you.

Nodding, you motion to the bed. "Lay down, I will tie you up and then you will watch as I oil my skin." You smirk. "In your eagerness, I was not quite ready for you."

“I don’t care about the oil. I want you as you are.” He declares, “I will take what you give me.” He promises, “and I don’t want to wait.” He confesses, “I need you, domina.”

You should deny him, but there is something earnest and raw about being willing to take you without the trappings of being an expensive courtesan. His eyes are lowered, but his mouth is pulled hopefully. "Go lay down." You order again, deciding that you will tie him up before you let him know your decision.

He obeys, standing and making his way over to the bed to lay down. His cock resting on his lower stomach as he waits for your next move. His heart is pounding and he’s ready for you to touch him but he has to be patient.

You walk over to a chest that you keep your binds in, opening it and choosing ones that are both strong and gentle on his skin. While you know he wears wrist braces and that would hide any abrasions on his skin, you don't want anything that would remind him of war and the brutality of it. "You are so good for me." You coo, bringing them over and starting with his ankles.

Marcus’s cock twitches in anticipation as you start to bind his ankle and he rests his head on the sheets, closing his eyes as he relinquishes control to you. He sighs and opens his eyes when you work on his wrists. “Is this okay?” You ask and he nods, “words.” You remind him and he says “yes, domina.”

Once you have him secure, you strip off your robe, leaving yourself nude and completely unadorned. Joining him on the bed and straddling his waist so your cunt is resting against his belly. Marcus inhales and you smirk, reaching behind you to wrap your fingers around his cock. "I think I will hold your cock inside me while I pleasure myself." You coo.

Marcus nods, wanting to please you, “yes domina. Use me.” He groans when you start to pump him and you shift your hips back, letting the head of his cock slide through your folds. You’re already so wet and he groans, fists clenched in the binds.

You take your time, slowly sinking down on him and watching as his breath catches. "Breathe." You instruct, pulling off of him slightly. "Feel my cunt. Close your eyes and feel how I am surrounding you."

He inhales deeply, closing his eyes as he feels your hot, wet cunt surround his aching cock. He groans and his fingers flex as he tries to revel in the feel of you around him.

When you are finally seated fully on his cock, you lean down and tap his cheek gently. "Open your eyes now." You command softly. "Watch as I touch myself."

He opens his eyes, watching you with bated breath as your hand slides down to the thatch of curls at the apex of your thighs, you’re so hot around him and he exhales shakily, trying to move his legs but he’s bound.

One hand is sliding between your folds and the other is cupping your breast. "Have you ever watched someone like this?" You ask breathlessly.

He shakes his head, “no. Never like this.” He’s had several lovers and too many whores to count and he’d never watched any of them touch themselves. He was too proactive as a lover.

You don't roll your hips, but your walls do squeeze him when you rub your clit. Making him bite his lip and you grin when you pinch your nipple and moan softly. "So you will see how you enjoy it. Thinking of nothing but my cunt around you, using you to fill me up while I pleasure myself."

He groans, watching you rub your clit, and he aches to touch you. His brow furrowed as he watches you, “fuck, domina. You look so good like this.” He admits, biting his lip as he watches with hungry eyes.

You chuckle quietly, watching his fingers flex. You can hear the frustration in his voice. “You would touch me, wouldn’t you?” You ask mockingly. “If you were not tied up. You would treat me as if I was any other whore in this brothel.” You pinch your nipple again. “But you cannot because I control your pleasure.”

He whines, “I would. I’d roll you over and fuck you so hard you’d struggle to take another man for days.” He confesses, his neck tense, “and you’d love it. You’d give up control. You’ve submit to me.” He growls, his frustration making him dominant even though he’s here to get away from that.

You drop your hand from your chest and reach for his own nipple. Pinching it and twisting it harshly. "No, you wouldn't." You smirk, listening to him hiss in pain. "Not now, because I am the one making you submit."

He groans, twitching inside you. “Yes, domina.” He submits again, his fingers flexing against the binds. “I- I’m sorry.” He gasps, “domina.” He loves the way you pinch his nipple again.

"Good boy." You coo mockingly. "The poor general thought he was in charge." You chuckle, pinching his other nipple before you take away that obvious pleasure and go back to pleasuring yourself.

Marcus groans, his eyes darkening as he watches you rub your clit and you clench around him. He hisses, “domina” knowing you are going to tease him until he’s begging.

You narrow your eyes slightly at his tone but you continue to touch yourself. It takes a lot of restraint to keep from bouncing on his cock, it's thick and fills you perfectly. Instead of grinding down on him, you hold still, rubbing your clit and biting your lip as you moan.

Marcus watches, all he can do is watch, and he twitches inside you. You feel molten around him and it’s getting harder to resist jerking his hips up into you as you remain still except for your walls fluttering around his length.

You can tell how tense he is, poised to move and the only thing keeping him from doing so is because you have ordered him not to. "Your cock feels good." You praise.

He pants, watching you as you palm your breast and rub your clit. “Fuck.” He curses, knowing he’s going to struggle to keep from thrusting up into you. He watches as you throw your head back, your fingers rubbing your clit a little faster, and when you clamp down on his cock, he can’t stop himself. He spills into your fluttering cunt, a strangled groan escaping his lips as he falls apart without permission.

Your eyes widen when you feel his seed flooding your womb. Hissing because you had not given him permission to cum, you pull off his cock. "You should not have done that." You warn. "Now you will be punished."

He doesn’t have time to enjoy his orgasm as you are soon reaching to unbind his ankles, twisting him onto his stomach so his arms are crossed. “I’m sorry, domina.” He chokes out, knowing you aren’t happy with him.

"You are not sorry yet." You promise, climbing off the bed and walking back over to the trunk to pull out a long and thin whip. "Soon you will be."

His eyes widen at the sight of the week and you pause, “safe word?” You ask and he shakes his head, “n-no. Keep going.” He swallows harshly in anticipation and nerves but he is here to see what you can do to him and that includes punishment.

You smirk slightly, tapping the whip against your palm as you look at him. "Now, I know that you are used to pain, so I am sure that it will take quite a while to get my point across. Do not muffle your sounds." You order right before you draw the whip back and bring it down on his ass.

He hisses but it’s not as painful as he thought it would be. He’s been stabbed and punched and cut so the whip isn’t hurting as much as being stabbed with a knife or a sword. Still, being so vulnerable, the whip makes him jerk when it comes down on his ass again.

You pull your hand back again and again, bringing down the whip against his flesh. Watching the welts raise and the reddening of his skin as you punish him for cumming without permission.

He pants, the pain surging through him but his cock is already hardening again. He cries out when you whip him again. "I'm sorry, domina. I'm sorry." He chokes, knowing his apologies won't mean anything to you.

You grunt, knowing that you should pull your punishment after a few more licks. Despite it being a punishment, you don’t want to cause any lasting pain to the general. “You spilled your seed without permission.” You remind him. “Without warning.”

He gasps, "I'm sorry, domina. Let me - please. I want to make it up to you. Tell me how I can make it right." He begs, his cock hard against the bed and he whines when you drop the whip after a few more licks.

You roll him back onto his back and smirk. “You will eat your seed out of my cunt.” You decide, straddling his chest. “You ruined my pleasure and made a mess.” Your fingers tangle into his hair and you pull his head up slightly to make him moan. “Now you will clean it up.”

He nods, knowing he needs to repent for his punishment and he moans when you tug on his hair again as you lift your hips and shuffle up until your creamy cunt is hovering over his face. "I'm sorry, domina." He murmurs as he tilts his head when you start to lower onto his face.

The first swipe of his tongue is tentative, almost apologetic as he carves a path through your folds. Your fingers tighten in his hair. “You can do better than that.”

He hisses when you tug on his hair and you lower your hips a little more to almost smother him. He slides his tongue through your folds and flicks over your clit, groaning at the taste of his cum mixed with your arousal.

You grind against his face, setting the pace and forcing him to keep up with you. His tongue flicks over your clit before he dips into your cunt and you moan, starting to forgive him after his mistake. “You just could not help yourself, is that it? My cunt too tight for you to hold yourself back?”

He groans into your flesh, “domina.” His tongue curls as deep as it can go, pushing his nose against your clit, and he wishes he could touch you, squeeze your breast or grab your ass but all he can do is let you rock down onto him.

You ride his face, not caring if his cock is already hard against his belly again. You won't let him cum again this session since he had disobeyed your instructions. Now you throw your head back and moan, using his mouth for your own pleasure and having no issue with it.

Marcus loves how you grind down onto his face, making his cock twitch but he knows you won’t let him cum again. He already knows you will continue to punish him by creaming over his tongue then sending him away. The thought makes pre-cum leak from the purple head of his cock.

Your cunt is soaked with his saliva and from the slick he causes as his tongue laps inside you. He has thrown himself into the task, trying to absolve himself of his sin through his tongue. Turning ravenous as he groans into your folds and pleads for you to cum for him. You close your eyes, enjoying the scratch of his beard on your sensitive skin and whimper softly.

Marcus needs you to cum. He wants to feel it. He wants to hear it. He loves the way you grind down onto his face and he tilts his chin so you can get more friction while his nose presses against the clit while his tongue pushes deep.

“That’s it.” You moan, close to cumming now. “Use your tongue.” You close your eyes and pinch both your nipples before you cum with a cry of bliss. Feeling the wetness of your pleasure soaking his face as you grind down harder on his tongue to ride it out. “Fuck.”

Marcus eagerly laps up everything you give him, a groan vibrating through you as he enjoys the tang of your cum on his taste buds. His fingers flex with the need to touch you but he can't move so all he can do is lay and wait for you to move off of him.

You pull your cunt away and shift off of him. “You did well, this time.” You reach out and tap his cheek lightly. “Do not do it again.” You warn him.

Marcus nods, "yes, domina." He promises but he must admit that he didn't hate the punishment. He's still rock hard and aching but he knows he cannot touch himself without your permission.

You untie Marcus before you clean him up. Feeling his cock throb as you run the rag over him. “Go.” You dismiss him. “I have other things to attend to.”

He frowns at your dismissal but nods, shifting off the bed and he grabs his tunic, pulling it over his head. It tents as he slides his sandals on and reaches for his pouch to set the coins down on the table for you. “Thank you, domina.” He bows his head and makes his way out of your rooms, his cock thankfully softening before he’s back out on the streets.

****

You let a week go by without sending word to Marcus Acacius. He has sent servants with gifts and flowers, hoping to soften you to forgive him. You are not angry with him, but it is amusing to see the general slowly start to lose his patience.

Marcus grunts, swinging his sword at his opponent. Since you have neglected to invite him into your rooms, he has buried himself in training and he is getting tense. He needs a release and he hasn't touched himself since he left your rooms. He growls as he swings his sword and his opponent surrenders. "General, you are vicious. You are...wound up. Go fuck a whore or take a bath." His sparring partner demands and Marcus sniffs, rubbing his nose as he feels ready to pounce. He grunts and nods, setting his sword on the stand before he stalks out of the gardens, making his way to the brothel. He strides up to the madame and demands to see you. "She has not called for you." She tilts her head and Marcus hisses, "I do not care. Tell her I am here."

You were resting when there is a knock on your door. “I am not to be disturbed.” You remind whoever is beyond the door, your monthly flow making you unusually tired and the pains in your stomach only good for knowing that you were not carrying a child.

Marcus clenches his jaw when the Madame comes back to inform him that you are indisposed. “Does she have company?” He asks and the Madame sighs, “well no, but-” She doesn’t get to finish before Marcus is striding past her down the hall to your rooms. He opens your door and barges in, his chest heaving.

You shoot up from your comfortable position on the bed, frowning when you see an agitated Marcus in your doorway. “What are you doing here, General?” You demand. “I have not sent for you.”

“I cannot wait any longer. I haven’t heard from you for days. I- I need release.” He growls, pacing your room after the door slams behind him. He’s hard and aching but he won’t take what you won’t give him. He has never been that kind of man.

Your anger that he has burst into your room subsides slightly and you lean back, watching him prowl like a caged animal. He is a warrior and despite that, he has not approached you. “And why do you think that is?” You ask.

Marcus’s chest heaves, “because it’s been too fucking long and I- I have been training and I need to let out some of this - fuck!” He hisses, pressing the heel of his palm into his forehead, “domina.” He murmurs, turning towards you with his head bowed, “please.”

You should turn him away. You should deny him. Or punish him, but his plea is stressed, his entire body is tense. A man who is pushed to the limits of his restraint. “I am bleeding.” You wince as you move, standing up from the bed. “That is why you have not been summoned. I have entertained no one.”

He feels a bit foolish now he knows the reason why you haven’t sent for him. “My apologies, domina.” He bows his head despite his shoulders being tense and he struggles to contain the pressure that’s built up inside him from a lack of release.

You can see his struggle. “I can offer you relief.” You like Marcus, even if he had broken the rules your last time together. “You can fuck me, even if I am bleeding.” You offer. “Or I can send for another one of the girls to have you fuck under my instruction.”

He shakes his head. He wants you and he voices that gruffly. You nod and he swallows, his throat dry as you shift towards him. “How can I have you, domina?” He asks softly, his hands still by his side.

“This one time, I will allow you to take me as you wish.” You decide. Your stomach is cramping and pleasure would ease the ache, although most men do not wish to fuck a woman who is bleeding. Perhaps because he has lived his life soaked in blood, he does not mind it.

Marcus’s cock twitches and he reaches for you, pulling you into his chest as he cups the back of your neck and presses his lips to yours. He’s hungry for you. He groans into your mouth, his tongue tangling against yours and his hands grip your ass, pulling you against his hardening cock.

This version of Marcus is aggressive, taking charge. You yield to him, letting him grind against you and pull you towards the bed. He’s impatient, you can tell that and one hand moves from your ass to start pulling off the loose robe you are wearing.

Marcus groans, sliding the robe off your shoulders, and he loves the exposed flesh, immediately leaning down to take your nipple into his mouth. He loves how sensitive you are as he bites down on the bud.

You cry out at the sharp pain. Your body is always more sensitive during your monthly bleeding. You don’t mind it though. “You seem to be eager, general.”

Marcus groans at the way you arch into his touch, pulling back so he can look at you. “I have missed your body. I have missed you.” He confesses, “domina, let me take you as you are.” He pleads, kissing up your chest to press kisses to your neck.

You are surprised by his confession, sure that you would never hear such a thing from a man like Marcus Acacius. Missing your attention, your body, but never just missing you. “Do with me what you want.” You assure him. “Just do not be too rough.”

He leans in to press his lips to yours again, guiding you back towards the bed to lay you down. His hands slide down your waist, squeezing your ass as he lifts you onto the bed. When you are spread out on the bed, blood between your thighs, he watches you with hungry eyes as he starts to strip off.

You don’t have any shame because of your blood, it is natural and it doesn’t take away from the way his cock is tenting his tunic until he rips it off. It is heavy, already leaking and you believe him when he says that he has not touched himself. “How will you take me?”

Marcus grunts, “on your back.” He demands and he grabs your ass, lowering you back onto the bed. He is eager for you, pressing his cock against your thigh as he kneels on the edge of the bed.

His fingers don't come between your thighs, but you don't expect it. He spits in his hand and smears it on his cock, pumping himself with a groan before he is notching his cock at your entrance. "Fuck me, general." You can't help but order him again, giving him permission to take what he needs from you just this once.

He groans as he starts to push into you. His eyes fluttering closed as he enjoys the feel of your walls gripping him. It’s so wet when your arousal combines with your blood and he clenches his jaw. He’s been so pent up, needing release only you can offer him. “So good, domina.” He groans as he opens his eyes to look at you.

You soak up the praise, knowing that he will be quick this time. Perhaps even needing more than one release before he is satisfied. The feeling of his cock inside you helps the ache already, making you moan softly.

Marcus groans, his fingers caressing your sides as he looms over you. His dark eyes narrow in concentration as he starts to rock into you, his hips pressing against your ass as he takes you without you being in charge of his pleasure.

You murmur your name, giving him permission to use it instead of domina this time. “Marcus.” You groan, closing your eyes and feeling him push deep.

He loves your name, moaning it as he grips your thighs, pushing them back towards your stomach and he looks down at his cock between your thighs. His length is bloody as he rocks in and out of you and he isn't bothered by the blood. He's seen gore beyond anyone's imagination on the battlefield. His hands slide up you cup your breasts, not squeezing, just liking the weight in his hands.

You are thankful that he doesn’t squeeze your tits, they are always sore when you are bleeding, although the feeling of his hands on them makes you moan. “Your cock-“ you pant. “It feels so good.” The normal relationship has been put aside for now, so you can praise him how you wish.

He groans at the praise, cock twitching inside you as he pushes deep. The linen sheets beneath you are ruined with blood but he doesn’t care as he pushes into you over and over. He leans down to press his lips to yours, shifting to support his weight on his forearms so he can slide his tongue into your mouth.

This is the first kiss you’ve shared during sex. It’s surprisingly passionate, gentle as his tongue moves against yours and he tastes the wine you had to ease your cramps. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and anchor yourself to him.

He isn’t as rough as he thought he would be, considering how pent up he’s been, and he slides his tongue against yours, rocking into you and loving the way you cling to him. It’s not emotional but it’s not without weight. He groans and kisses along your jaw, “so fucking hot.” He hisses when your walls clench around his bloodied length.

You chuckle softly. "You are just happy to have a cunt to use." You tease, even though he could have taken another to bed with your permission and still he chose you. "What do you do when you are at camp?" You demand. "What will you do when my attention is not an option?"

Marcus sighs, “I haven’t really thought about it. I do not wish to return to war but I have no choice. The emperors demand it of me.” He admits as he slows his pace. “Unless you come with me.” He suggests between kisses he places on your neck.

Your eyes widen when he voices that. Leave Rome? Become a camp whore for the men? Or would he want you for himself? You choke out a sound of surprise.

“I want you to be my mistress.” He confirms, “you will be protected as mine. I want you to be with me during my battles.” He declares against your skin.

A mistress. Many men had begged you to become their mistress. Promising you elevated status and riches beyond what you could imagine. Marcus is not promising you any of those things. He is greedy. Wanting you with him to see to his needs while he battles for Rome. To be the comfort he craves when he is away from the excess of the capital. You stroke his back and groan. "You would have me lounge in your tent until you return to fuck me as you wish?"

“I would wish for you to remain in my tent and wait for me to return from battle before you took control of me, allowing me to forget the battle, forget anything but the feel of your touch as you control my pleasure.” He confesses, his hand sliding down to your thigh, squeezing it after he shifts his weight onto one elbow.

So you would still be in control over him. The idea is intriguing and you hum before you feel him lift your leg onto his hip. "I would make you forget everything. Every swing of your blade or scream of pain." You promise softly.

He groans, pulling out of you. Blood straining his cock as he shifts to lay down on the bed and he grabs your hips to pull you onto his lap. “I want you to ride me. I want you to give yourself pleasure from my cock.”

You know that you shouldn't. You should make him do all the work, but you enjoy riding. It's easy to slip him back inside your cunt and you moan softly. "I am surprised that you have not cum already." You tease, smirking before you pinch his nipple.

He groans, “need you to tell me when I can fill you up. I love it when you control my pleasure.” He confesses, his hands reaching for your waist to caress your skin.

You smirk and lean down to kiss him, biting his bottom lip when you pull away and he twitches violently inside you. Making him groan your name in a plea to have mercy on him. "The general will be moaning in surrender a lot then." You promise, grinding down on his length and enjoying the way he chases away the ache that comes with your bleeding.

You grind down and his chest heaves as he watches you. His hands sliding down to caress your thighs, enjoying the way you rock on top of him. He’s happy he can touch you, watch you as you work yourself closer to your peak.

You lose yourself in the sensation, leaning back and closing your eyes as you bounce on his cock. Despite you taking no clients during your bleeding, you enjoy sex like this. Finding it refreshing that he is not disturbed by your body's natural flow. "Fuck, Marcus." You whine, leading down and pressing your lips to his again. "So close."

Marcus groans into your mouth, his tongue sliding against yours as his hands find your ass. He squeezes the flesh and helps you rock a little harder on top of him. “Cum for me, puella.” He demands, wanting to feel you clamp down on his cock.

You bite his chin and grind down harder on his cock, a few more rolls of your hips throws you over the edge. Making you cry out in pleasure. “Marcus!” You clench down around him and shake.

He groans as you rock down onto him, squeezing him in your walls. “Fuck, you’re - shit - you’re going to make me cum.” He admits, it’s been too long since he had a release and he’s throbbing when you gush around his length.

You stop moving and he huffs but he does not say anything. “Fuck me.” You order, and you drag him down with you as you fall back onto the bed. “Show me how you would fuck me if I were just another whore.” 

He grunts as he adjusts his weight over you and he starts to move inside you. His hips hit your ass as he pushes your thighs back towards your stomach and he groans as he starts to fuck you hard and fast.

Your stomach heaves as you try to breathe, your fingers twisting in the sheets as you whimper. He’s good at fucking you, his hips pushing in desperation. “Fuck, that’s good. Cum for me. Fill me up.”

Marcus can't hold back any longer. He hisses as he pushes deep, a loud groan of your name escaping his lips as he pulses, painting your walls with his hot seed.

He drops his head to your chest and you him, stroking his back as he fills you with hot ropes of cum. Letting him ride out his pleasure and enjoying the way that he trembles over you. It’s rare you let a client fuck you this way and it had been good.

He kisses along your jaw, enjoying the way you feel around him while his cock twitches as he rides his high. He sighs, "you are incredible."

You smile, relaxing into the bed. “That is all part of my appeal.” You remind him, although you are a bit more gentle with him, reaching up and running your fingers through his curls.

He smiles against your chin, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before he shifts to pull out of you. He looks down at the mess between your legs and the crumpled linen, "we made a mess." He chuckles and you snort, "You mean you did." He shrugs, unable to feel bad for that but he shifts off the bed, making his way over to the water bowl to wet the rag so he can clean you up.

It’s rare that you let a man care for you, but this time, you let Marcus clean you up. “The sheets are ruined.” Marcus hums, the blood streaked on the linens. “They will be changed.” You wave away the sentiment. “They are ones that I always use when I bleed.”

Marcus nods, knowing you are in control again. This is your room and so he picks up his tunic, ready to be sent on his way after he’s paid his coin. “I am leaving in three days time. The emperors’ wish for me to conquer more lands in their name. That’s why - why I was so pent up.” He confesses and he’s loath to leave Rome so soon when he longs to stay and relax, lose himself in you.

You bite your lip and move to the edge of the bed, still naked and you watch as he dresses. “Did you give me an honest offer?” You ask quietly, not as composed as you might appear. “About joining you as your mistress?”

Marcus turns to look at you once he’s dressed and he nods, “yes. You’d be mine and only mine. You’d want for nothing. I just…I cannot return to the battlefield without something…someone to give me hope, to motivate me to return.”

You look around the rooms that you have called home for many years. Weighing your options seriously before you look back at him. “I accept.”

His eyes widen before a surprised smile appears on his face, certain that you were going to say no. He surges forward and cups your cheeks, pressing his lips to yours. “You shall want for nothing.” He promises, “I’ll come find you in three days' time. I have much to prepare for my absence in Rome.” He informs you, “prepare yourself and be ready, amor.”

His stride is sure and proud as he walks out of your rooms, the confident gait of a man who has tasks to accomplish. You will be ready for him in three days time as he wishes, packed and will travel around the world with him and his army. He is important to Rome and her emperors, and you will make sure that he is well rested and prepared for battle.

[astolfofo]

…I had a thought about the halovians(specifically sunday) and want to know peoples opinions. do u think he has nesting instincts? :3 thank u for listening to my ted talk.

hi (i did say i was gonna answer this 2 weeks ago unfortunately I forgot i'm so sorry.) But anyways, thank you for your ask, and 100% he does.

tw: non-con, forced pregnancy, dark content. truly the unedited sleep deprived trying to write.

Okay i finished writing this i know you didn't ask for acutal writing but i went ahead and did it anyways because why not hope u don't mind

also excuse the fact that thus was posted at 4am and I was half falling asleep already while writing this.

There were three days in your life that you could have called the worst.

The first one was the day when Sunday took your life away from you, and claimed you to be his "wife". The second was when first time he chose to be intimate. The third was when you got pregnant as a result.

Nothing had ever stuck to you like the day after that. You felt like washing the sheets until your hands would bleed. You wanted to submerge yourself in bleach until every fiber of your body burned, shriveled up, and died.

You wanted to forget that it happened. That the events in the previous night ever happened at all.

But the soreness between your legs was a constant reminder. And even though the pain went away after a few days, it was replaced by something much worse. Something you feared.

You saw the signs from the second you got them. Your body felt heavy. You were constantly tired. You had lost interest in eating. It was obvious what was going on.

And for a few days, you tried to hide it. The longer Sunday didn't know, the better it was for you. That way, you could slowly while away your last few moments in peace before everything was taken from you in entirety.

After a few weeks, you couldn't hide it anymore. You remember staring at the double line on the pregnancy test.

You almost instantly broke down into tears. It wasn't anything that you hadn't already know n, but maybe part of you still just believed you were ill, that maybe there was another reason why you had missed your period that month. That the pain you kept experiencing was just from some kind of illness.

The last thing you could keep away from Sunday was taken away from you that day. The sense of freedom you could've had.

To Sunday, you suppose this was the final step he needed to take to bind you to him. Another way to control you. Another way to keep you in his arms, and make sure you wouldn't let go.

And if you didn't want to get murdered by the press, if you didn't want to further sabotage both your own and Sunday's public image, you knew to take it.

You had no choice but to take it. You were no more than an insect trapped under his thumb.

-

out of the two of you, there was only one person that was particularly enthusiastic about having a child.

It certainly wasn't you.

Ever since you had first found out about the pregnancy, you had felt empty. As if someone directly sucked the soul out of your body.

You weren't yourself anymore. You hadn't been for a long time.

Sunday didn't seem too bothered by it though.

You weren't sure if it was just his own parental instincts, or whether he could tell that it was almost time for you go into labour. Maybe it was a combination of both. You didn't care. You couldn't care less.

All you knew was that his presence was suffocating. Overbearing. Invasive, even.

You couldn't do anything by yourself. Sunday felt the need to assist you with everything you did. Even basic tasks such as grabbing an object, he insisted that he would get for you.

But what set you off the most, was his intense urge to keep the house in order. You had never seen him having such intense urges to organize a room even when just the slightest thing was out of order. He couldn't stand seeing the slightest speck of dust, he couldn't stand seeing the furniture just an inch out of place.

It drove you to madness.

If you had even slightly misplaced something Sunday you would notice Sunday getting slightly agitated.

From the moment he came home, to the moment he would fall asleep, he spent every waking second making sure the house was perfectly in order, before obsessing over you. At some point you just wanted to wave him off. Lock yourself in the bathroom and sleep for a long period of time, until you had no concept of reality anymore.

You didn't have it in you to keep going. week after week, month after month, Sunday's final goal had always to perfect you into an obedient wife that would do as they were told. And no matter how you tried to fight it... you were always forced back into obedience.

There's two cold fingers touching your chin, and lifting your face up, until you're forced to meet a pair of eyes.

They're bright. Everytime you see them, you can't help but try to look away. They were as bright as the sun, and just like the sun, you felt as if you were going to be blinded jfyou looked at them for too long. You guess it could've also been a sentiment to the power he held over you too.

"Dear, did you hear a word I just said?"

It's an obvious answer. But, you know better by now just to answer the question. You slightly shake your head, which supposedly satisfied him enough, to let go of the fi gers holding your head up.

He sighs, you're not sure in annoyance or in disappointment.

"If you keep acting like this, I'm going to need to resort to drastic measures..."

You look at him one more time. You remember how when you first saw him, you thought of him to be beautiful. To be almost ethereal.

You regret falling into that hypnosis. You regret looking at him at all.

Look at where it got you.