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iznsfw · 11 months ago

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Ms. Kang Hyewon

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 3 - Kang Hyewon

IZ*ONE's Kang Hyewon x Male Reader Smut

9,122 words

Categories | femdom, mommy kink, degradation, angry sex, choking

Content warning | blackmail, degradation, Hyewon isn't so innocent here

Well, well, well, look who came back with Day 3.

My promise remains. Expect more, but on separate days. I won't run away with your money like a certain pre-

Thread isn’t claustrophobic. It slips through spaces not even your fingernail could pierce apart. Effortlessly, too. It isn’t afraid of being knotted up. It just needs guidance: a pinch to lead it through the eye and a pull to seam it through the hem.

You wish you wielded the same fearlessness. It’s thinner and more fragile than you (highly debated) yet it’s hardened to its life. The only thing you’re granted as a similarity to it is the need for guidance, not all of that shit about courage.

Maybe that’s why you became a fashion designer.

Needles have their own strengths, too. They’re not cowards to inflicting pain for aesthetics. Why do you think they stab so effortlessly through fabric and silk and skin and whatnot? They sharpen themselves through softness, and all that edge goes straight into the process.

And sometimes, your fingers.

“Fuck.” Your reverie is broken at last. From your thumb, a trail of red leaks. You’re used to the minor cuts and wounds, but the blood really does something to you. It reminds you of how fragile human anatomy is. One uncalculated move can end it all.

“You good?” asks Eunbi.

Suck on your thumb. A metallic taste settles over your tongue. She peers at you curiously; wave your hand at her dismissively to tell her it’s fine. This is everyday for you, like you said. Your heart will pump anxiously but that goes away, too. It’s all a vestige of time.

Flatten the vest top on the table. Wait, it’s not exactly a top yet if fringes of thread splay from the edges. You still have to work on that. Nothing is something when it’s not completed. It’s either you finish it grandly or leave it in pathetic tatters.

“You sure you're okay?”

“Just a little nervous,” you reply.

“I mean,” Eunbi laughs as she fixes her short hair into a ponytail, “she is Kang Hyewon.”

Not that she needs to remind you. Your nerves are in a wreck already. You’ve been replaying the pros of the situation in your head like a favorite song. Working for Hyewon would look good in your resumés. If time sees fit, you’d have your own line and everyone would want to wear it. Your name could be a staple of fashion, the god of gods. Something like that.

It only sucks that you’re painfully new to this world. This is the first time you’re this far from your family and friends. Seoul’s a far cry from your humble town. It’s the home of everything that matters. Nights of staying up drawing and designing couldn’t harden you for an industry that sways and shakes out the unfit.

This is your chance to find out if you’re one of them.

“The superstar who’s about to wear my shitty clothes.”

“They’re anything but shitty. You have seriously good ideas.” Always, Eunbi comes in to reassure you. That’s why you see her as a mentor. “She wouldn’t turn down wearing couture if she didn’t see potential in what you make.”

See, you would never have agreed to any of this. You’re a fresh graduate from some fashion school, and the only models you’ve worked on are the runway rejects. Fixing a sloppy first draft on a stick-thin, soulless girl is different from designing and dressing up Kang Hyewon.

She’s everything—model, actress, singer, and idol. She’s a gem for every brand out there. They’re all dying to get her to be their ambassador. Every director with a complete brain wants to cast her for their new drama.

And it’s her who can lift you to heights in your career. So you’d be an idiot not to seal the deal.

“Have you worked with her before?”

As your needle sews a story of fabric, Eunbi’s words whittle her story with Hyewon. Turns out, this is only her second time working with the star. She confirms that Hyewon is truly gorgeous in person with those god-given full lips and hardset eyes.

Apparently, first impressions are right after all when it’s with her—she’s a silent, withholding woman who doesn’t talk outside of necessity. Eunbi tells you her nerves were in knots the first time, but also informs you that as long as you do your job for her properly, there isn’t gonna be any problem.

“Just be careful in what you do and say,” Eunbi whispers. She peeks over at your nearly finished piece. “That’s turning out really nice, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

Look proudly at your handiwork. It’s a sleeveless top fashioned from denim, with a V-shaped curve at the stomach. You’ve attached strips of more denim on the front that are sewn on with threads that match the blue of the ocean, embedded into the chest to prevent dullness. You think it’s turning out pretty good, too.

You would’ve gone on smiling if it weren’t for what you remembered. “Wait, why do I have to be careful?”

“She’s not, like, shy or anything. Just really unfiltered when it comes to feedback. She told me the eyeliner I did on her was shit, and that I shouldn’t come back if I planned on doing that again.”

Doubts about the beauty of your design rise. It might look good in your eyes, but what if it doesn’t in hers? She’d probably see the lack of color and call it a monstrosity. She’s got the type of power to get away with brutal words, to leave your little self-confidence in pieces.

The leg-hugging jeans and vest now look painfully average to you. There’s no debating that she’d look good in it, but there’s that constant back-and-forth argument in your head about whether or not Hyewon would like it.

“Were you hurt?” you ask.

Eunbi wipes red lipstick from the edges of her mouth with the mirror’s reflection as guidance, then smiles. “She’s the kind of woman I’d let do more than hurt me.”

You don’t know what that was about, but you’re not one to pry. You don’t have the time anyway.

Assistants have poured into the room. It’s your sign to put in more work—their arrival means that Hyewon is about to come very soon. They’re all dressed in their uniforms, the kind that looks good but not too good that it takes away the fact that they’re just staff.

Eunbi shifts her weight from one stiletto to another. “Are you done?” she asks. She gazes over at your sewing as she taps anxious rhythms on the vanity table. Notice how she’s taken off her acrylics and in turn shows her cruelly bitten fingernails.

You huff. “I’m trying.”

Stick a red-studded pin through the denim to keep the vest in place. What shade of blue did you use again? Staring for lengthy minutes at your messy table doesn’t help you find it. Your chalks have left pink powder on the wood. Your threads are unspooled and everywhere. In the midst of it all, the star’s vest sits, still waiting to be finished.

“She’s getting here in five!” Yena shouts.

“Any updates there?” Eunbi says pleadingly to you, eyes full of tears.

“I said I’m trying, Eunbi.”

“Then try harder, fuck!”

Her hands have abandoned their rhythms and are squeezed up into tiny, helpless fists. She keeps peeking out of the dressing room as if she’d die on the spot if Hyewon were there already. This is the first time you’ve seen Eunbi this beside herself. Even her crew is shocked. Her fear infects them too and now all sets of scared eyes are on you. They’re depending on your speed for their careers. If you fall short, they fall short, too. It’s a domino effect of failure.

Yena pushes aside the hangers of clothing to frisk for the makeup kit. Chaeyeon has her hands in her air while Minju whimpers behind her. They all know one thing for sure: you’re never gonna finish on time.

Your needle fits and slips, fits and slips, fits and slips—

“Can’t you go any faster?” cries out Eunbi.

The thread almost pulls the rest of the fabric along it when you pull furiously. “Unless you want me to get stabbed in the fucking wrist,” you say, “I can’t.”

You prick yourself multiple times trying to speed up. Push the layered denim down. It’s like drowning a needle, letting it go up from the waves of clothes for air, then drowning it again. However, you don’t care for any casualties right now. You don’t care for deaths either. All you want is to do is finish this piece.

You hear three short knocks on the door. Your world stops, but your sewing doesn’t. You can do this. You can still make it look somehow finished.

“Ms. Kang!”

Curl.

Thread.

Knot.

You’re done. It’s safe to turn around.

All of the women along with Eunbi have bowed deeply. Standing in front of them is the straight-postured form of the adored celebrity. The assistants look like they’re an estranged cult of some sorts who’s worshiping a goddess who’s come to earth.

Strangely, you find out that, as you stare at Kang Hyewon, you understand.

You can now grasp the idea why she’s ventured into so many fields: she can do it all. She can be it all.

Her hair is as black as night, and so are her irises. Her expression tells you no background, not even of a troublesome drive or a good meal. No, not any of that, for Hyewon’s face is a serious little look of professionalism. It’s the kind people of her status wear—celebrated doctors, movie stars, activists. But for some reason, it looks so much hotter on her.

It would take skilled mathematicians and scientists to find out what’s behind her neutral expression, but it doesn’t take a degree to know that she’s downright beautiful.

The pictures her dedicated fansites take of her truly don’t do justice to her attractiveness. Her face is smaller than a child’s. The nonchalant stare in her eyes makes her look out of this world, which could be said too for her preppy clothes. She’s a fashion icon for the younger generation after all.

A natural pair of plump lips doesn’t show a sign of a smile. Nevertheless, she’s a beautiful woman. You assume that it’s how it is for her everyday, just like drawing is your daily routine.

“Hello.” Hyewon’s voice is surprisingly feminine yet husky. She looks at you all indifferently, then places her bag on a nearby chair. Each action of hers is minimal and measured.

“Would you like to get dressed, Ms. Kang?” asks Eunbi, her voice a pitch too high.

She nods.

You hand over the jeans and shirt. Make a beeline for the exit. There’s a reason why an all-female staff was hired for Hyewon. You were taught in school that you best not dress them up directly if they’re a celebrity and you aren’t known in the industry yet. There’s all the reason to fear: hidden cameras and microphones, leaked footage, the like. While you’re not a man whose intentions are dark, you still follow protocol.

“What are you running away for?”

Your shoes stop paving the way to the door. Was that Hyewon? “What?” you say.

Eunbi winces. Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. You don’t state that in that tone to a woman of that class.

Hyewon sighs audibly. “Can you look me in the eyes when I talk to you?”

You’re cold yet trepidation prickles your skin like fire. Slowly, almost comically, turn around. Her coat is off, leaving her in a skirt and a sleeveless undershirt on which she’s crossed her arms above. So how can you look at her directly? That body of hers is shockingly easy on the eyes.

“You’re the fashion designer, right?” she asks.

Smile awkwardly. “I, uh—”

“Then why are you leaving? Come over here and help me. I want to see if you know what you’re doing.”

“I’m, a little, uh, actually—”

“You’re actually what?”

Your mouth’s dry. Eunbi and her crew look too scared to remind her that you’re an amateur. You haven’t dressed up a star and you definitely aren’t a professional.

But what can you do? Look at her—a woman who could crumble your career into shards if she said so and blacklist you from the industry forever—and tell her no?

So, you approach.

Is it a blessing that you’re granted the honors of removing her underclothes? Or a curse?

As you undress her, you’re given the affirmation that her body is more than easy on the eyes. It’s fucking to die for. Her waist isn’t concerningly tiny, but shows a defined curve that elevates to her torso. Her breasts are large for her frame, barely fitting the size of her lace bra.

“Woah, what are you doing?” you say, eyes wide at Eunbi suddenly unclasping said bra. You feel like a Victorian man catching sight of ankles.

Eunbi looks confused. “Didn’t you say a bra would ruin the look? And that we should use nipple tape?”

Hyewon stares at her, then looks at you, waiting for an answer.

“Oh, right.” You chuckle tensely. “Sorry.”

Your lips are pursed to keep you from hissing in embarrassment. Now you probably look like a creep. Your fright and wariness are taking control, and you have no idea what to do.

You conveniently close your eyes when the bra’s taken off. Take the vest from Yena and raise it above Hyewon’s head. No matter what, you’ll keep your eyes up. Not below, where her breasts are sure to catch you off guard; not to the side, where they might be assuming you’re everything bad; but up. Nowhere else.

“It looks beautiful on you.” Minju’s smile is less nervous now that the job is done.

Her remark is nothing short of the truth. The garment slips onto Hyewon’s body like water. The defined carve of her clavicle stands out above the conservative neckline. Still, her bare arms alone will already have people thinking of something. The jeans accentuate her slim long legs elevated by a pair of expensive heels. She doesn’t need makeup to look good in what you sewed for her. Her body and face do the job.

Hyewon doesn't respond to the compliment. She simply sits down on the swivel makeup chair, crosses her legs, and pulls out her phone. Her thumbs twiddle with a game you’ve seen her advertise before. She’s true to her endorsements.

Minju carefully fills the brims of her eyelids with sharp cat eyeliner. Hyewon still doesn’t look up from her phone. You guess she’s used to people adapting to her and not the other way around.

You like the touch of the fierce red lipstick Eunbi applies on her later on. It’s a bold statement, something that goes like: It’s me, Kang Hyewon; this is the face of a woman who can destroy you, and I promise that you’ll love it.

“You look great, Ms. Kang,” Eunbi compliments her cheerfully, clicking the lipstick back.

Hyewon stares at herself in the mirror. She’s a silent observer, taking in her reflection and studying it closely.

A lunar eclipse personified, a smile stretches on her lips that releases your held breaths. “I know.”

Mirrors lined with shining diamonds. Words that spell the house of fashion emblazoned in lights. Expensive makeup behind glass. Bags that are worth your tuition sitting on displayed pedestals as if they didn’t know their own worth. The event is a never-ending sea of vanity for the wealthy and the west. You can’t believe you’re playing a part in it, although you’re a sheep among well-dressed wolves.

Crowds of reporters and photographers wait at the main hall. There’s no questioning who they’re here for. Although Jang is undoubtedly a big name, so is Hyewon. They were right to recruit her. You’ve never seen a crowd this big, even for fashion. You wonder how much they paid her to be the ambassador. Must be millions when all the other houses are dying to have her. She doesn’t look like one who kindly allows lowballing.

Neither does this man. He’s grand in his custom Victoria Jang and shoes that have the glimmer of stars themselves as he stands at the center. He must be the MC; he has a name tag to his breast pocket and a mic in his fist.

“Dude, did you know Anya Taylor-Joy’s gonna be here?” Rafael tells you.

“The chick from that cool chess movie?”

“Yeah,” he replies. He gestures to the small screen that shows her holding a lipstick to her jaw. It would be hard to see it behind the scrambling reporters. Luckily, as the designer, you scored a nearby spot backstage. “Jennie, too!”

The two are gorgeous, but you’re honestly more interested in Hyewon. If people see she’s wearing your clothes, they’d want to hire you, too. She doesn’t follow the trend; she is the trend. Soon, you’ll see Korea filled with women wearing the same shirt, the same jeans, the same style…

“We’re proud to present Jang’s first store in Korea,” says the MC. Yep, you were right. “This is a monumental stepping stone for our founder, Ms. Jang Wonyoung. Please welcome her with a hearty applause!”

You know all about Jang Wonyoung. She’s a self-made woman whose passion for beauty got the attention of the public, especially the western world. She’s always busy despite her tender age of nineteen: performing onstage with her group IVE, traveling, founding a new school in meager areas. She’s almost at the same level as Hyewon in terms of stardom.

Wonyoung comes out from the background, dressed fashionably as always. A polite smile decorates her glossed lips. It’s caught by the flashes of cameras and the reporters’ cheers.

“Hello, thank you for coming.” She brushes back her fringe and folds her hands. “Opening a branch here in my home is an achievement I’m forever grateful for. I would like to thank you all greatly for the success it’s brought about.

“Please,” she says, “take the time to immerse yourself in our array of products. Try a new trendy look with Jang Beauty—”

She extends an arm to the variety of products protected under firm glass. There’s powder, eyeliner, and blush. Actually, there’s a little of everything. There’s colors fit for every complexion, dark or light, and a palette of rainbows.

“—or flaunt your own style with our new arrival bags and purses.”

See, they’re the bags which immediately give the impression of expensiveness. The accessories are reserved to warm or light hues accompanied with Wonyoung’s signature rabbit logo. One even features her signature, stylishly drawn on quality canvas.

“Our helpful staff are here to answer your questions and assist you, but for now, please meet our muses.”

The camera shutters multiply when Kim Jennie enters the frame. Another “it” girl, she’s from a globally loved K-pop group whose influence couldn’t be denied even by the worst liars. She made all the buzz for Jang when a news article that quoted Wonyoung’s adoration for her was released. As expected, social media received the news happily. They made parallels with Wonyoung and Jennie, created fan accounts, and bought from Jang, even if the house initially opened in the United States.

Wonyoung’s smile is wide. You think you see a little of yourself in her. There’s certain pride in seeing someone loved and adored wearing your design.

Jennie waves briefly to the crowd before settling in a poised stride stage left.

Anya Taylor-Joy comes in next. Rafael makes a joke about how the press would have a difficult time trying to translate her name into Hangul characters correctly. She answers a question from the crowd sweetly with a translator’s help, and stands a yard from Jennie. Seeing the two women side by side stuns you—Jang really did emphasize how there’s beauty in everything and everyone, including those from different sides of the world.

“And finally, we would like to present Jang’s new ambassador.” Wonyoung’s beaming positively. “Welcome to Jang, Kang Hyewon!”

Suppressed screams fill your ears. The women at the mall can’t believe a friendly outing to the mall grabbed them a chance to see her in person. She’s the kind of girl who’s everywhere, and still manages to make you look. To make you want to be her or be with her. Perhaps those two at the same time?

You stare at her. Hyewon is flawless. Her slight tan is a nice break from the whiteness of the cameras. Her eyes seem to single out everybody in the crowd. The ambassador stands next to Wonyoung, a hand on her own hip, and lets a slight Mona Lisa smile paint her face.

Perfection.

How does she do so little but still attract everyone? You’re not an exception. You find yourself forgetting that you made those clothes—she owns them now. They’ll be associated with her name and not yours.

Do you even have a problem with that?

“Jang’s vision is to highlight beauty in everyone,” Wonyoung says. “Ms. Kang Hyewon is the perfect ambassador. She is an idol, singer, dancer, model, muse, and everything you can think of. She is the personification of beauty and versatility. We are proud to have her.”

You would be, too.

You were here to make a name for yourself, not fanboy over her. Here you are anyway doing it.

Hyewon stands next to Wonyoung and nods humbly. “I’m honored to be named the ambassador for Jang.” She bows deeply. Her hands are together on her stomach. “Please expect more from us because we will deliver.”

Perhaps that’s a statement bolder than the red painted on her lips.

“To the name of beauty!” a reporter raises a glass and chugs it. You don’t know where that came from, but it draws collective giggles.

Wonyoung laughs. “To the name of beauty!”

Hyewon jokingly raises an imaginary shot high in the air. The simplest actions don’t bar her from being beautiful. Just look at how her hair falls perfectly over gorgeous shoulders, how her hips stick out at the sides of the jeans—

How the sound of fabric ripping loudly stuns the crowd.

Your eyes go wide. The left strap of her top has torn apart. The two aidless halves collapse on the sides uselessly. The attire sags from the front and leaks the view of one of her breasts. Maybe they should have told her to keep the bra on—her left tit with nothing but nipple tape on is painfully shown off to hundreds of people.

Hyewon’s eyes fill with alarm. All confidence is lost as she tries to cover her exposed breast up. But the deed is done. Worse, the flashes don’t stop. The photos will soon take to the internet and, regardless of her power to bend things to their will, can never truly be eradicated. The articles will go viral, too. No one will forget this moment of Kang Hyewon finally showing vulnerability.

“Ms. Kang—” Wonyoung says in a thin voice. She didn’t imagine this special day would take a drastic turn. She awkwardly laughs, because what else can she do? As rich as she is, she can’t pay a crazed scientist to implement a memory-erasing chip in these people’s brains. The event is officially ruined.

And it’s all your fault.

Still, she generously steps in front of Hyewon to help. Similar to every attempt to salvage her dignity, it’s useless. The ambassador she relied so much on is already walking away. She’s leaving everything behind and won’t look back. Tonight is a night of many firsts, and right now, this is her first time retreating.

Aside from the sounds of phones and camcorders, all that’s left to hear is the furious clicking of Hyewon’s heels. Her strides are short and quick.

One step, five steps, ten steps… then thirteen.

It takes a total of thirteen steps for Hyewon to exit and come to you.

You couldn’t be an unluckier dead man.

Hyewon is the grim reaper. She wields fury instead of a scythe, wears now defective clothes instead of a dark cloak. The imminent loss of life is frightening regardless of being faced with a pretty woman. Anyone would get on their knees and resort to the unthinkable to experience this with the celebrity right now. So why are you as cold as a corpse?

“You.”

One word is enough to make you want to die early.

You look forward while your steps go backward. Your feet can pave the longest reversed path and you’d still be left with no escape. Hyewon is faster than you are. The rest of the staff are in the crowd or in another room; they can’t help you. Nobody can tell her to stop.

You doubt she’d listen anyway, and you know because you’re looking in her face: the face of death. Gone is the blasé mood surrounding her, the mystery in her that people would pray rosaries to venerate. What’s taken its place is an Ares-born wrath that’s at odds with her Aphrodite visuals. Her eyes are large with anger and short angry rasps leave her mouth.

“Ms. Kang,” you say, your words a mute plea. “Really, I apologize—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Hyewon’s forearm knocks into your neck and catapults you to the dressing room door. The wood gives way, much to your horror. You barely make it on the plush chair with how your feet struggle to keep upright.

She looms over you hauntingly, tall in her black heels. It’s a reminder that she really is above you in everything: positions, status, wealth—

Intimacy?

Why is she straddling you? You don’t know what you’re supposed to feel, much more where to look. Adding to her center literally being seated above your crotch, she didn’t even bother to fix her wardrobe malfunction. There’s no might left in you when her fingers curl into your collar and tighten it up to your neck.

“You little shit.” She coils the fabric around your throat harder. Wracked coughs fight their way out of you. “An incompetent one, too. This is all your fault.”

Her voice is rougher when she’s angry. It’s like she has a switch that she clicks on and off to be what she has to be: the Kang Hyewon everyone idolizes; and the one people would be afraid of. It doesn’t take a wicked guess to figure which one you’re encountering now.

“Ms. Kang,” you say weakly, “please.”

You inhale raggedly through your nose. Hate how comforting her expensive perfume is to your senses when she’s doing everything but making you at ease. Hate how attractive she is. Hate how you ruined the day that was supposed to change your life forever. Hate how a small part of you doesn't hate being under her.

For others to understand you, they need to put themselves in your shoes. If an A-list star who’s as gorgeous as Hyewon was snugly seated on their lap, wouldn’t they feel the same? Wouldn’t they feel the stir in their pants, the heat in their chests?

You’re fucked in the head. But she is, too. You’re a match made in the depths of hell.

“I-I can explain.”

Your pulse beats beneath her palm. Its faltering rhythm brings cruel satisfaction to her, making her face spread into a wicked smile.

As Hyewon’s almond eyes close into tyrannizing slits and her lips pull at the ends into a closed smirk, you realize why she rarely grins. You’re fucking terrified. It’s a simper reserved for little satisfaction and great anger. How can a woman be this beautiful yet this cruel?

“Explain then,” she allows. The ampleness of her lips has little distance to your mouth. “But if you think for one second I’m letting you go, you’re as dead as your career.”

Your career never started. You were young once. You had dreams of making yourself known and making your family proud. If today never happened, if your needle seamed the thread just a bit tighter, you still would have had a chance to go on.

Now you’re neither young nor old, with neither a future or past.

Your dreams are broken, just like her clothes.

“Please, Ms. Kang. I was in a rush. I didn’t think it would undo like that.”

She laughs. It’s another rare occurrence that scares the shit out of you. It transforms into a sarcastic little scoff when she meets your eyes again. “I gave you days. I gave you a fucking chance to prove your worth when I could’ve hired any dickhead out there. And what did you do? You screwed it up.”

With each word she spits, your collar wrings around you more compactly. You feel hot and breathless but to Hyewon, your skin is deadly cold to the touch. Nevertheless, she doesn’t let up.

“I’ll pay for the damage,” you offer bleakly. “I’ll apologize. I’ll admit that I was wrong to… hahk, to the media. Just please don’t blacklist me.”

She shakes her head. “That isn’t enough.”

It isn’t? What could you do? You’ve already said you’ll pay more than you can to amend. You told her you’d go to the press and bare your wrongdoings. What else does she want? She already has everything.

“You wanted to see me naked, didn't you?” Hyewon snarls. “You planned it all out.”

You choke, and it’s not because of her hands digging into your flesh. “N-no! I swear—”

In the olden days, prophecies were told by an oracle. People would go on quests and seal their fates in accordance with them. Now, they’re in the little things, like jokes that suddenly bleed into reality, and, in your case, deja vu.

You say deja vu because you know the sound of ripping fabric all too well.

It interrupts your words and catches you by surprise. Hyewon has wrenched apart the buttons of your shirt down to your stomach. The band of your underwear peeks out above your pants, as well as the stomach you haven’t taken the time to tone in a while.

“There,” she says. She slinks down your lap till her knees touch the floor and she’s tearing your pants, too. More buttons are sent flying in the air. “Now we’re both naked. Isn’t that what you wanted? To get to say that you fucked Kang Hyewon?”

Your pants add to the pile of clothes and buttons on the ground. You can’t even blush or protest; Hyewon is unstoppable when she’s angry. Her soft hands, unlearned in the ways of hardship, somehow have the strength to cut and slice and pull at your clothing. She’s not leaving one speck of fabric on for modesty.

“I, I don’t want to fu– to have sex with you, Ms. Kang.”

“Baby.” Hyewon deadpans, laughing a little as she traces the curve of your cheek. “Everyone wants to fuck me.”

She takes off her shirt and tears off the nipple tapes. Her pretty brown nipples are uncovered, and you can’t stop staring. Her body is a model of perfection in every category. You’ve got her flat tummy, curved waist, wide hips, and breasts that really should have a warning sign lest you harm yourself looking at them. Unfortunately, they don’t have a warning label, and Hyewon catches your wandering eyes.

“Fucking pervert.”

You look away, but there’s nowhere else to stare, so you say, “No, please, I didn’t… no, I didn’t—”

“I know what I saw.”

“I’m sorry, I really am.”

“That’s not how you say it.” Hyewon suddenly wraps her hand around your stiffening cock. Her squeeze is painful. “You sit there, bow your head, and say: ‘Sorry, mommy.’”

You’re flabbergasted. “What?”

You yowl when she squeezes harder and starts to pump you to full mast. It’s a painful pleasure, a guilty danger. Hyewon’s eyes trained on you are even more so.

“You heard me. If you want to save your career, do as I say.”

You whimper into the eerie silence as the woman curls her fist around your member as if she were choking it. How did you land into this situation? How were you so fucking stupid that you thought a week would be enough to finish the piece?

Now you’re here, in this enclosed dressing room, with a celebrity cruelly torturing your penis and demanding that you call her mommy. Look to the right then to the left and see that no one’s coming to your rescue. This is the real world, and as absurd as it is, you’re on your own.

Hyewon’s fingernails threaten to pierce the sensitive skin. “Be a good boy,” she growls.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, mommy.”

(You mean it, you mean it, you mean it.)

“That wasn’t so hard. But I’m not done with you just yet.”

She leans forward. Your face twists while she wraps her soft tits around you. Her cleavage is so deep, so full that your length is completely lost in it. You moan embarrassingly, and it’s too late to cover your mouth when she’s already smirking.

“Because you wanted to see my tits so bad,” she says, rubbing her tits in opposite directions on your member, “I’m gonna fuck you with them. I don’t care if you cum like a little bitch or not; I’m not stopping.”

You’re starting to leak. Hyewon’s sweat combined with your precum lubricates you and allows for more delicious, slippery friction. She pushes herself up and down repeatedly, continuously trapping your cock between her amazing boobs. She could do this forever. On the other hand, you’re close to losing it.

“I’m not gonna stop. You brought this upon yourself. You understand me, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

A deserved silence. Her eyes speak of an immediate death that follows a wrong answer.

Close your eyes. You know what you’re supposed to say. “Yes, mommy.”

Strangely, she’s exactly the type of woman who deserves that title. Her stony expression doesn’t evaporate from that beautiful face although sweat’s started to roll down it from how mercilessly she titfucks you. She shows no signs of sympathy for your situation. Why would she when she’s accustomed to control, and you’ve just taken that from her? You took her control from the people who’ve made her famous. This is your punishment.

Each pleasured expression you make draws a haughty smile from her. It’s as inspiring as critical acclaim to her, for she cups her tits tighter around your shaft and pumps away. You’re her toy for tonight. If she can’t regain her control over the public, she’ll show you why she deserves to have it:

One, she’s tireless.

Her lower lip is under her teeth as she spills effort into persecuting your cock. She’s unblinking—she’s too focused on your reactions to close her eyes. It’s not like she’d care if your reaction is violent or pained or good. Hyewon would still go on fucking you.

“Of course you like this.” Spit covers your cockhead, a sign of her distaste. “You perverted virgins are all the same.”

“I’m not perverted, mommy.”

“What’s next? You’re gonna tell me you’re not a virgin?”

“I’m, n-not a vir—”

“Don’t make me laugh.”

She continues grinding her pillowy breasts on you. Their undersides touch your balls while her nipples brush against your stomach. Whatever move she does makes you shiver.

If you had no escape from the enigma that is Kang Hyewon, neither did your cock. Her bust makes sure of that. It surrounds it as if determined to suffocate an ejaculation out of it. The precum from your tip just isn’t enough.

Two, she doesn’t rely on anybody.

Nobody told her to fuck you. Nobody told her to strip and use you. Those are the choices she made by herself, and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t perform them with dedication. She doesn’t need anybody’s help in ruining you when she can do it herself.

So she does. Hyewon sinfully lets saliva drip from her chin and onto her chest to help speed up what’s already a vicious pace. The cold drool makes you hiss. Her warm breasts are both a reprieve and retribution. They carry out soft comfort but give out your quick punishment at the same time. It’s funny to think how they’re as versatile as she is.

Three, she’s the only one who’s ever made you cum like this.

“Mommy!” The word was never intended to be said. But it’s unavoidable; Hyewon’s too hasty, and it’s becoming too much. You can’t hold back on letting her know her ownership of you.

You can’t hold back the messiness of your cum as well. Bursts of white jet her chest and her neck. You whimper to your wits’ end and she doesn’t stop in spite of it. She keeps overstimulating you till the leak of semen becomes a mere dribble.

Hyewon climbs on your lap again, her vagina placed just in front of your spent shaft. “You’re getting used to it, huh?”

Your eyes are on her, as everyone else’s are when she’s under the lens of a camera. You’re horrified; almost every part of her torso is covered with your cum. Her tits are coated grandly with strong splashes. The white liquid drools down her tummy, then to her jeans.

You just came on Kang Hyewon.

Push her away, cursing quietly. You’ve no reputation left to save now. No dignity, no image, nothing. You should have fought back. A junior stylist shouldn’t be getting intimate with a superstar.

“Ms. Kang, I should go,” you stammer. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

None of this was supposed to happen. You wish you could have turned back time and stopped yourself from going to fashion school. If you didn’t go, you wouldn’t have gone on the path of designing and wouldn’t have accepted her invitation to design for her and Jang. It’s all so fucked up that you’re actually reconsidering religion.

Hyewon considers this. To your relief, her professional tone returns. You’re able to breathe now. It’s over.

“You’re not gonna help me clean up?” she says finally.

“Oh… yes, I’m sorry.”

There’s no tissues or washcloths around. You have to be resourceful. It’s painful wiping up something so inappropriate with the shirt you designed, but it’ll do. The semen embeds into the denim during your dutiful clean-up. It’s humiliating—the only thing that comforts you is that, after this, you and Hyewon will part ways and never speak again. You both have something to hold over the other. Keeping your mouths shut will keep you safer than sorrier.

More worries surface. Did someone hear or see you? Are there hidden cameras here? You’ll have to inspect the place, especially after you think you don’t remember Hyewon locking the door.

“Thank you.” Hyewon crosses her arms and looks down at the stained vest that started all of this. “Now suck your cum out of it.”

You want to cry. This is far from over. You’re not done here, and you won’t be until she says so.

She cocks her head. “I paid for it, and I don’t want flaws,” she says matter-of-factly. “So you either suck your filth out now or I might just drop the Somun magazine editor a visit.”

Stare at her with tear-filled eyes. What can you do?

Attach your lips to the blemished denim. Suck on it forcefully. The taste brings more tears and some even slide in pathetic drops down your face. How did it all come to this? The amount of hard work you put in school surely did not earn you this, right?

You were raised too soft. Maybe hanging out with the rebellious boys back in elementary would have saved you her domination. You could have negotiated with her, maybe even argued that you weren’t allowing this to happen to you. But those happen in parallel universes, where you’re a little stronger, a little wiser. Here, you’re just a man who’s not particularly excellent.

“Good job,” Hyewon says. “I guess you’re not that much of a lost cause.”

Her backhanded praise is sweet to your ears rather than mocking.

She clicks her tongue. “All that cum should have went in my pussy, you know.”

You hang your head to hide your blush. You’re glad thoughts aren’t visually presented. Otherwise, Hyewon would put you down further.

Hyewon places a finger below your chin and tilts it up. You’re forced to meet her eyes. There comes all the hate again. It pours into your heart freely like a fountain. It’s not hate for her, but for yourself. If you didn’t crumple that easily for women like Hyewon—women who like control and give orders and get a kick out of humiliating other people—maybe a whole other fate would have been in store for you.

Fright always gives way to yearning. She’s a bitch who thinks too highly of herself, although understandably so. She hurt you so much and through it all, you still want to hear her praise you.

She smiles.

Yep, Kang Hyewon is irredeemably, irrevocably evil.

“And you owe me a whole lot of it,” she says, and adds, in a sickeningly sweet voice, “baby boy.”

No horror film can scare you like she does. She’s a phantom of beauty and power who will haunt you forever. All this could be done and you’d still think about her. You’ve become another one of Hyewon’s fanatics who allows her to do anything and everything to them.

Hyewon shoves you on the dressing table. The cold white surface cools your skin, but you know it’s about to get heated soon. She’s spanned her legs over your hips again. Her aggressive hands grip your shoulders. Somehow, you never want them to leave your touch.

Then you’re kissing her. The other way around, you mean—Hyewon initiates it by closing the distance and biting your lip. She’s a starved kisser who devours you like a wolf. Her tongue curls around yours and she dives in deeper. You’re deprived of any breath, any source of oxygen. Part your lips to kiss her back, but she’s already locked her mouth on them.

Hyewon sweeps her hair back, readying herself for the final act. If mirrors could blush, you have no question that they would upon seeing her. Attractiveness is a natural thing to her—you can see it in the sway of her arms, the thickness of her thighs, and the way she carries herself. She acts like she’s entitled to everything, and that includes your cock.

She’s too fucking hot that you’d ignore all her cons and give it up to her.

She knows that. She circles her core around your tip. You moan immediately. She feels so good, and you’re not even inside her yet.

“You like that?” she sneers after she pulls away. “You like my pussy on your cock?”

She grinds her slit along your cockhead. Her moans are surprisingly sensitive, high in pitch and airy. You’re granted exclusive listening to them when you hit her clit. She moves it there particularly, because those moaned questions she asked you are just for her own ego. She only cares for her own pleasure, and it just so happens to be ignited by a weak man whose type is crazy, unhinged women. Whose type just so happens to be her.

She’s so wet that sounds of drenched squeaks fill your ears. You’re nothing else except certain that she really, really gets off on being such a bitch. Her wicked leer couldn’t ever fade from her face, not if you keep flashing those exhausted needy expressions.

“Answer me,” Hyewon says. She glides her fingertips from your broad shoulders to your neck. A threatening grip, a deadly fate. “You know mommy doesn't like to be kept waiting.”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Do you want me to ride your cock, hm?” Every fragment she speaks makes her choke you harder. She’ll send you to heaven then hell, where you’ll meet her all over again. “Do you want me to keep you inside me until I’m all done and satisfied?”

“Yes… oh fuck, please!”

“I fucking thought so.”

She sinks herself down in one go. You cry out. Hyewon’s tight pussy welcomes you and traps you right up to the hilt. The hard grip of her cunt disallows you a break; her pace is one of anger that’s unrelenting and harsh.

Her thighs crash down on your lap and rise, a cycle that never ends. You’re left even more breathless by her soft breasts smothering you. It’s the best way to go out. They bounce marvelously in front of your face, your nose pressed to the little space between them and your mouth kissing wherever it can. You lick at her tits until you’ve licked all the cum that might have remained on them.

Your lips attach themselves to her nipple. As an effect, the star’s cunt clamps around you with the hold of a guilty pleasure, a taboo vice. It doesn’t intend on letting go unless you decide you want it to go. But you have the feeling that your probable pleas won’t budge Hyewon’s heart.

“Mommy’s baby boy,” Hyewon says. Her tightness grows and so does the volume of her heavy gasps. “Mommy’s slutty baby boy who’d do anything to get this pussy.”

You want to tell her that what she said is far from the truth. You didn’t want to cause a wardrobe malfunction. You didn’t want to anger her. But now, when presented with the heat of her impossibly wet vagina, you realize you actually would. You try to meet her expectations, nursing on her nipple and guiding her movements with your hands on her wide hips. What you want is for this to be enough, but it just isn’t. Hyewon always wants more.

You can see it in the crash of her butt on your thighs, the shouty cries that she lets go of, the grip on your neck that she doesn’t. A woman accustomed to the scrutiny of the public eye would never let a strand of her hair go knotted. But when it comes to punishing people, to making them the accessory she carries, she doesn’t care anymore. Her usually prepared and counted movements become frantic. Her quietness isn't a case of the current times when she’s using you as her little fucktoy.

Kang Hyewon is a mess, and you are, too.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!” Your yells crack and fade—she doesn’t.

Hyewon doesn’t let up. Her fluttering walls make sure to leave your legs stagnant. You can feel her manicured nails scrape your skin and her thin legs hug your hips. The hours she spends in the gym can’t be that long for her stamina to remain this strong. Maybe she has a personal trainer, a healthy diet. Maybe she owns some weights around the house.

Maybe she owns you.

“You sound pathetic. Just keep sucking those tits.” She removes her hand from the base of your neck, but leaves you asphyxiated anyway when she pushes her face into her breasts.

The mirror bears your combined weight. You try to lift your head. Hyewon chases your movements. You’re forced to inhale through your nostrils, taking in her powdery perfume and lightly sweaty scent, and keep your mouth busy on her boobs.

You flick her nipple with your tongue. She holds you to her chest and promises no escape. To be fair, you could stay here, smothered by her breasts forever. You’d have little complaint when they’re heavy and soft and sweaty. Your mouth stays attached to them and brings her on the road to orgasm.

“Greedy little boy,” Hyewon scoffs. “You’re about to cum, aren’t you? I bet you held it out just so I could keep riding you.”

Your cock feels sore already. Although her insides are warm and soaked enough for the entering and leaving to be slick, you’ve been trying to hold back for so long you think you’ll cry. You have to tell her. Perhaps it’ll lessen her anger.

“I’m gonna cum, please, mommy.”

She cruelly bounces faster. Her hips are that of a veteran dancer’s, grinding to and fro and rotating. You’ve figured it out: the reason why she’s never had a dating scandal is that no man would be able to handle her. She’d drain him nightly. She’d treat him like a sex toy to use when she pleases. Everyone wants to be hers, but no one is ready for her.

“Do you deserve to cum inside this perfect pussy?” she asks. She splays her lips and grinds upwards. You groan loudly. “You’re lucky if I even spit on you. What makes you think you can explode in mommy?”

“Please, I’ll do anything!” You tighten your core to hold it back. It’s useless. Your orgasm is coming anytime now, and Hyewon won’t let it happen. “Mommy, let me cum, mommy, please!”

She slaps you across the face. Why did the sting turn you on? You’d argue her words sting more. “You made me look like a cheap slut out there!” Hyewon shouts. “I gave you a chance and you ruined it, you little shit. So now you have to earn your fucking worth!”

Her riding becomes intense by the minute. She was angry earlier, and now she’s furious. You’re her canvas for a fuming painting. But in her eyes, you’re not a masterpiece. She’ll do away with you to the point of destruction. You’re very near to crumbling.

“I’ll do anything, please!”

You’re desperate. Your stomach’s starting to ache from the violence. You can’t quite feel your legs. All you feel is an impending heat that squeezes your insides. Your hips jerk needily and tears fall from your face. This is the first time you’ve felt this humiliated and aroused. Something about Hyewon makes the two emotions merge and leaves you wanting more.

Hyewon’s close to cumming, too. She’s shaking as her chaotic bounces are sloppier than before. “Say it, say you’re my little boy toy! Say you’re a slut for mommy!”

You’re a quivering body beneath the celebrity. You’re letting her use your cock and choke you and slap you, all without repercussions. There’s only one kind of man that would let someone do that to them. You can’t believe you’ve become one.

“Yes, yes, mommy owns my cock!” you scream, nodding over and over. “I’m her toy and she can do w-whatever she wants to me, I won’t mind!”

Her juices roll down your cock and wet your pubic area. She’s spiraling out of control. The only thing she can control is you, making you say the most humiliating things. Her wild eyes lock onto yours, and through them you could finally see some backstory: Kang Hyewon was born into wealth and control, and she’ll die with them, too. She’ll always fight to have them when they’re taken away from her. She isn’t afraid to cross limits.

“Yes, yes, yes! More!”

“I only want mommy’s pussy even if I don’t deserve it! I only do what she says, I’ll give up everything to be mommy’s plaything, please!”

When she cums, she looks frenzied, shaking all over the place and spasming around you. Her cries of pleasure become erratic. They almost sound not human. A human would not dare do what she does to you. She fucks you like an animal, frightens you like a supernatural phenomenon, and moves like the waves of the sea.

Kang Hyewon is out of this world. You’re an unnamed rock floating in the galaxy she navigates.

You bust just the second she removes herself from you. Abashing strings of sticky whiteness land all over yourself. They’re paired with needy groans that you can’t stop even if you wanted to.

Hyewon observes your ejaculation unamusedly. She takes a step backward when a jet of cum sprays in her direction. Look down at yourself—look down at your lap and the table blotted with your orgasm—and think of how dirty you are. You’re so dirty and pitiable that you came all over yourself, like you just masturbated in front of her. That’s why she doesn’t want to touch you.

“Y-you didn’t let me cum inside,” you say disappointedly. You did everything, said everything, and risked everything for nothing. An orgasm isn’t worth it when it isn’t done inside Hyewon.

“Like I said,” Hyewon replies, apathetic, “you don’t deserve it.”

Stare at her. It’s through staring at her with surprise that you realize you’re dirty on the inside, too. Hyewon can live her life secludedly and fade from the industry. She can leave this country, reinvent herself, marry somewhere, and you’d still be thinking about her. You’d always think of this night that left her appearance and yourself ruined.

That’s her charm. She’s permanently going to be in your mind—you’ll always picture her wet cunt, her alluring breasts, her beautiful face. You’ll strive for her again and again while she doesn't even care if you live or die.

Women like her… why do they have to be who you want?

“You have no future in this industry,” she continues.

She pulls her jeans up her legs and slips the button through the hole. Oh, you really will remember this night. You see you and Hyewon in the little things. She searches through the closet for a spare shirt. Watch her slim fingers that previously wrapped like ribbons around your throat now wrap around a hanger. She slips her arms through the tweed coat and seals it around the front.

“But your drawings aren’t… horrible,” she says. That’s the best compliment you can get from her. You know not to expect more. She shrugs as she closes the buttons together. “Maybe you’ll end up as a painter.”

A painter? You’re a fashion designer, not Van Gogh. Dresses and pants are your forte. You can’t switch to a whole new job when sewing is what you know.

Your heart sinks. You really broke the first step to a career you worked your whole life for. It’s just not your path to take anymore.

Hyewon looks around for something to write with. She settles for the eye pencil lying on a table. She forces you to open your palm and writes something on it. She closes your fingers above it.

“There you go. Consider this a farewell gift.”

She came into your life fast and she exits it just as fast. You can’t help but feel a strange sense of yearning. After all she’s done, you don’t want her to go. Why do you despise her departure when you prayed for it earlier?

Who would take you now?

You sigh. Peek at your hand curiously. In tidy handwriting, Hyewon’s message says:

KIM MINJU - CURATOR

XXX - XXX - 2001

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thesensteawitch · 3 months ago

Text

IF YOU WERE A MUSE TO A POET 🍁💌

~This Is What They Would Tell You!

Pick A Pile Reading

(Left To Right- Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3)

Hello, Senstea Souls!💖

I hope you're doing well. Here's a collective reading about what a poet would tell you if you were their muse! ✨

TAKE A DEEP BREATH AND PICK YOUR PILE INTUITIVELY.

In case you would like to BOOK A READING with me then I am sharing the links below for the same.

BOOKING FORM 💌

RATE CARD $$$

You can also DM me in case of any query.🫶🏻

***

Pile 1

You have so many sides to you, and yet you hold space for more. I am directionless. Where should I lead this poem about you? Or where are you leading me? There’s so much to you that I want to express, but I fear I’ll end up looking like a fool. You’re like the universe—mesmerizing, intriguing, and frightening, with layers and layers of mysteries. You are divine to me. Being a poet feels like a boon when I look at you. Only fated souls get to write about someone so infinitely charming. I sense the never-ending wisdom you hold. I’d forever be your devotee if you’d let me drink just one drop of what keeps you glowing like you do. You’re sharp, kind, wild, and a dream that only slips away. Where are you looking? What inspiration do you need? Come on! You walk to your own rhythm, your shadows delightfully dancing to your beat. The sound of your steps tells me stories of places you’ve been and people you’ve met. You hold no regret, no grudge—only lessons. You think, reflect, and cry for being mistreated. But when it’s your turn, you choose to destroy the weapons that bruised you so deeply, instead of hurting others with them. The venom couldn’t kill you but made you wise. Following your footprints, I find the earth swallowing the shed skin of your old self. How can I define you when you’re constantly transforming? Every time I think I have finally known you, I find something new revealed. My hands fall short of holding your grace, my mind loses the words to portray it. As I said, you’re sharp—you’ll never let me read you. You take me to the end only to throw me into a new beginning. It’s not your fault; I understand that’s who you truly are. Sometimes, while falling asleep, I wonder who would be so lucky to fall in love with you? Or who would you fall in love with? But then again, I don’t feel you’re deprived of love, because YOU ARE love. I look at you the way others look at stars. Everyone attempts to count them at least once in their lifetime but eventually gives up, knowing it’s an attempt they will fail. But I am not tired; I am taking a break. I would like to admire you for now, knowing that maybe I too will never fully know you, but I’ll keep exploring who you are, just like scientists cannot give up on SPACE! Ah! See, I cracked something! Your lover must be someone like you—infinitely charming and holding mysteries as vast.

***

Pile 2

You know what? I am mad at you! Because either you attack or you run away. See? You just revolted back. Or perhaps hid in your closet, knowing that someone knows your little secret. You’re that 22° in astrology. Kill or be killed? You’re neither a prey nor do you need to triumph over someone or something else to keep yourself safe. All I am trying to say is that you’re not meant to just survive; you’re meant to thrive. But hey, I do see your heart. The life around it has withered, and you’re surviving on memories. For how long, may I ask? You’re not a coward; you’re afraid. I heard someone say, “The one who is capable of love is capable of being saved.” At this point, all the love is leaking from the corners of your heart. Make the best use of it, or it’ll go to waste. Life isn’t at the extremes; it’s in the middle. That’s where you find your balance. That’s where you will shine bright. I see you singing to yourself, making stories in your heart but never writing them down for the world to taste. You don’t need to say ‘NO’ to something you want. Openly say what you want and to the person who can give it to you. Don’t keep whispering your wishes into the ears of God. He’s even giving you a side-eye now, haha. You’re the leader! If you don’t take the lead, you’ll never have your pack. Do you get it? Why am I even writing about you? It seems to me that you’re an artist too. You know the depths of your pain better than I do. Gosh, you need a hug! Whoever you’ve lost in this physical world doesn’t like to see those tears rolling down your cheeks. Every time you try to make sense of your emotions, you only make your heart heavier. Love keeps dripping and draining into the river of unexpressed emotions. You’re about to be granted a new life, a restart. But this won’t be handed to you until you decide and do what you’re supposed to do. The pain demands to be felt and yada yada yada! We’ve all watched *The Fault in Our Stars*. But come on, there’s an expiry date to feeling it too. I told you, you’re an extreme case. Pain won’t leave you until you leave it. YOU DESERVE THE WORLD. And I know you don’t believe it, but from where I am seeing, all your wishes are about to come true. You’re just ONE decision away. And I am here watching and waiting for you to make that move. Go where your heart is; that’s where you’re supposed to be. Don’t run away from your destiny. Remember, you’re not the same kid who froze at the point of a horrifying sight and couldn’t do anything about it. You’re grown up now. You can HEAL yourself. You’re not hopeless or helpless. You don’t even need to find your potential; it’s just there, waiting for you to see it and accept it.

***

Pile 3

Excuse me, miss/mister? Do you even have time to read what I have to say? You’re too busy figuring things out. Huff! The amount of mental and physical work you do is commendable. Are you waiting for something or someone? I am not surprised to see your spiritual side. What side, huh? You’re SPIRITUAL—IN & OUT! You’re wise, extremely intuitive, and resourceful but haven’t learned how to avoid burnouts. Can something ever be hidden from you? From where I see, it seems you’re new here but not naive. You’ve completed a tough journey filled with passion, rage, excitement, and burnouts (again!). Life has been preparing you for something bigger than your destiny! You’re heavily protected from the forces that don’t want you to be where God is taking you. But we all know who’s more powerful, don’t we? I see you bumping into your past sometimes, but you quickly realize that’s not where you’re supposed to be. The price you would have to pay to return to the same place or people is quite heavy. You don’t feel comfortable in the old stories anymore. You’re grateful but not greedy to go back. I laugh at those who think they can lure you with temptations! Lol! You are ten steps ahead of them. Stay where you are. All this silence around you is a blessing. You’re about to win. You’re meant to win in this lifetime. This is not your first time around. I have seen you somewhere—not here, but in a different lifetime. You’ve lived all those lives to WIN in this one! The smoke of your burned karmas surrounds you. You’ve cleansed! You’re not in the dark; you’re rising from the ashes. I see the wings of a phoenix on your back. YOU’RE THE CREATOR OF YOUR OWN DESTINY. Evidence of your faith and intuition follows you in the forms of birds, butterflies, feathers, and angel numbers. One day, you may share your story, but you know that day is not today. God, you’re mysterious, and all those stories are tattooed on your skin in a language no one can decipher. Your presence is enough for people to turn around, pause, and reflect. You raise the temperature of the room and melt the ice away. People open up to you naturally. Everyone just wants to experience a drop of you. But you’re not easily accessible. Your magic is sacred and can’t be put on sale. You’re magic. The path you’ve walked on shines so bright. That’s how I trace your past life because you leave glitters behind.

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livelaughlovesubs · 6 months ago

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Lost-nut enlightenment sjdbbdhdhd I'm fuckin wheezing but you're so real for that

If hoyo didn't want me to Dom him then too bad, any male character can be Dommed if you're not a coward.

Deadass when I saw his leaks and saw the headphones I was like "oh, he's probably partially deaf and those are in-game's equivalent of hearing aids, that's pretty neat. He seems like he's either going to be overly friendly or I'm going to want to punch him type of personality"

And damn hoyo tried to portray him as this cool lone wolf scholarly guy who wants to understand everything about Teyvat that's aloof and blunt and a majority of the fandom looked at him (me included), especially after he mentioned that his headphones have noise cancelation, plus the stories about him going the Akademiya as a little kid and went "autism/neuro divergent havin ass 🫵😶" and they're so right for that. Literally nothing about him is neuro typical and I think it's neat.

He's such a dork, bro thinks he can hurt my feelings by being blunt he's not ready for me to take one good and psychoanalyze him. This is how we flirt, others are horrified but this man is literally the horny grip meme because I just know he'd be turned on by you doing something that shows off how smart you are.

I just remembered that his headphones can record lectures.

Nini, imagine recording JoI for him on a separate headphone set, general dirty talk, etc for when you gotta be away because you just know he'd be too stubborn to openly admit that he misses the sound of your voice.

He's so pathetic bless we really eating good

I'm trying not to spam your inbox with the rambling of madman but I'm just so happy to have fellow Doms to gush about subby men with since it's hard to find each other

-🐇

Nah it’s alright, I don’t mind. Also I noticed that was a typo- I wanted to write post-but enlightenment Ahahhahah

But the thing with the headphones? 10/10 would write. I’ll do it once my kinktober stuff are done. Imagine recording his own noises during smexy time without him knowing, and making some alternations to his headphones so that we can change whatever he’s listening to something else.

Then just jumpscare him with his own lewd moans and whimpers. At first he’d be so confused, like who’s this weird ass dude with the high pitched voice of a girl? Is it even a guy? Until he hears your voice, and the words you uttered were so familiar.

As soon as he notices that these sounds were in fact, he himself, god the embarrassment and lust swelling inside him would be 📈📈

I think he’d blush and smirk to himself, scaring basically any poor souls who had the unfortunate fate of witnessing such a scene.

#nini!rant #🐇 anon #sub genshin impact #sub genshin #sub alhaitham #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut

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novasintheroom · 1 month ago

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014. Tear

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 0.8k

♡ Warnings - none

♡ Description: You've had a bad day. Vash is there to comfort you.

Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3

A no-good rotten day. That’s what this is.

You trudge up a long ramp, sticking to the shadows where you can. It’s hot. Dry. The winds are blowing sand through the columned metal buildings of the town. Your eyes sting from it. Your bag is empty, your back hurts, and the scrapes on your knees and hands are bleeding freely.

Stolen from. Again.

You knuckle your eyes. Third time this month. You’d tried, you’d really tried. But those thieves were quick; practiced in guerilla warfare. Took you out at the knees and the books right from your bag. Cut the straps of your coin purse and played tug-of-war with it before just snatching everything inside. Now you only have a broken bag and bruised ego to your name.

What’s worse is that the townspeople just watched it all happen. No one stepped in. Cowards, you think bitterly. You decide to sit on a stoop near a row of wall-to-wall houses. No where else to go or do now.

That’s not true. You could go to the sheriff's office. Town’s big enough for one; you’re pretty sure you passed by it on your way in. But would they do anything? From the looks of this town, everything is run-down. You could make your way back to headquarters in Octovern…again. With the same sorry story, the same tale of how you lost both your month’s wages and the precious few books you’d been entrusted with. Tayli’s gonna demote me, you think miserably. You should have gotten that gun or a knife at the last pawn shop. None of the other librarians have been nearly as accosted as you’ve been. But then, they were in safer countrysides.

Your head bends with regret under the awning. You’d so hoped this town would work out. That people would want to read, to better themselves. But no one cared. Not even when someone gets robbed right in front of them. You feel the sting of tears and sigh furiously. None of that. No crying over spilled milk. The tears still sheen over your eyes, though, and you look up to try and blink them away.

That’s when you see him. Through the blur of tears, you recognize that bright red coat. He’s standing in front of you, his spiked blond hair as bright as the suns. You’re surprised. How did you not see or hear him come up?

“______?” Vash asks hesitantly. Then he steps forward quickly and kneels before you. He’s grasping your hands and looking at the wounds. “What happened? Are you alright?”

Your lips wibble, and a few tears leak down. Where did he come from? How is he here, when you’re at your lowest? You want to deny everything, to say it’s all fine, you just tripped. But all you can manage is a small, “Vash…” before you wrap your arms around him and start sobbing.

Vash tenses under your embrace before relaxing. His own arms come up to nestle you further into him. “Hey, it’s okay,” he hushes you, hand running up and down your back, “it’s gonna be okay.”

Maybe it will, maybe it won’t. But he lets you cry out your frustration and embarrassment until you’re satisfied. Each hiccup rocks him back on his heels, and soon he’s sitting with you on the ground. He never stops holding you. Never stops rubbing your back. Even when others come and go on the road, he only shields you further from their sight, letting everything come out without protest.

After time has passed, you finally pull away and sniffle, rubbing at your eyes and nose. You’re wildly embarrassed at losing control, and ask, “What are you even doing here?”

Vash looks at your puffy eyes, your still-wibbling lips. “Doing the same thing I always do: looking for people to help.”

A watery laugh escapes. He’d certainly found you. “I’m sorry. I think I ruined your coat.”

“What, this old thing?” He lifts a side and smiles. “It’s been through worse. It’ll survive a tear or two.”

“Or a hundred.” You swallow thickly, shifting your broken bag to your lap now.

Vash looks at it curiously but doesn’t ask. “Hey, wanna go get some food?” At your blank look, he continues. “Food always helps when you’re down in the dumps. I’ll pay; my treat.”

And Vash would do more than that. He would feed you, dress your wounds, and keep you company until you were better. In the morning, you’d find him gone, but somehow, miraculously, your books returned to the door of your inn room, along with a few double dollars and coins – what Vash could spare. You’d cry again, out of gratitude this time, and swear the next time you saw him, you’d repay him for his kindness.

But all of that would come later. For now, you sigh. “Yeah,” you say, taking his hand to stand up, “that would be nice.”

#trigun #vash the stampede #trigun stampede #tristamp #vash #writing #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #reader insert #nova writes #x reader #trigun x reader #150 bullets

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h50europe · 5 months ago

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So, this happened overnight on my AO3 account for my Buck/Tommy plot. Mornings are for lovers, and I had a blast reading it. So somewhere went out on a limp and left me these notes full of verbal diarrhea.

What I take from it is that Buck has no right of a life on his own. If Eddie's life is in shambles, Buck has to suffer along with him. He has no right to have a happy life with Tommy. He has no right to have sex with Tommy; hell, he shouldn't even have had dinner with Tommy after what happened at Eddie's.

I get it, tin hats, I get it. And there is even a name for it!

These comments only confirm what we know. Bi-Buck is okay as long as he is Bi with Eddie. Bi with Tommy is bad. Het with women is also not okay. Nothing is okay if it is not with Eddie.

I don't know if I should be amused about using Christopher as a cock blocker argument. Hm...

And Tommy is nothing but a plot device for them. Wow, I didn't even know there was a 9-1-1 leaker. I hope they leak, not just BS others.

You know, I truly enjoy being a weirdo if I can be happy for a fictional character to come out after six seasons full of hints about his bisexuality with someone other than his ride-or-die who's currently in an awful mental place (like the Tin Hat followers).

But I refuse to wrap my hat in tin foil concerning "Buddie." I am a multishipper. In Tommy's voice, "You know, you can have more than one ship?"

Why don't they just drop it? Lashing out, pissing in other fans' sandboxes, bullying an actor and his family (until his sister made her IG account private) and fans, taking cameos and recycling them out of context... What's their point? They have none. They just are loud and annoying AF.

I know. I said in another post not to share their toxicity, but... With this post, I kindly asked the sane part of this fandom, don't let yourself be bullied into oblivion. Don't let your voice be drowned out, and for heaven's sake, don't let them take away the fun we have by creating all the wonderful fan art, stories, videos etc. and by sharing our thoughts. Yes, we have to deal with them, as they don't go away.

But they are a minority, only awfully loud, as usual. Those people will never establish themselves in any fandom. And they are cowards because they always come in groups. Even if they have to create sock puppets to make it look like they are many. Echo-chambers can get very lonely and very boring.

I LOVE ALL MY FELLOW TEVAN (or multi)shippers to bits. You have great taste and great empathy, and you show what an awesome supporter of the queer community you are!!!

And for the haters:

#911 abc #tommy kinard #lou ferrigno jr #bucktommy #tevan #evan buck buckely #evan buckley #oliver stark #911 #911 spoilers #911 show #kinkley #kinley #my manips #my edits #photoshop #corel

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byemambo · 2 months ago

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4Minutes EP. 6 - My Takeaways

Y'all...The way I was working OVERTIME trying to figure out how I wanted to explain my thoughts for this episode (this post is extremely long: take that as you will). So please welcome OG TymeGreat vs. NDE (near death experience) TymeGreat and their timelines (everything else under the cut!):

Great Version

Tyme Version

Key Events: Assessing the Timelines

I listed out key events that I felt matched up within each existing timeline (and I'm sure I missed more key events/details that aren't listed in my findings), no matter the person nor alternative reality they're in. For Great's timeline, the key events include:

Waking up to take his exam

Hitting Manee with his car

Receiving the call from Title

Korn being attacked

Great learns Tyme's identity as the attacker

Great confronting Tyme at the hospital the next day

Great confronting his parents for their crimes

Great renounces his ties to his family

While these events occurred regardless of the different decisions Great could make, what was striking to me was Great's distinct characteristics that existed in both timelines while also having characteristics individual to their respective timelines. For OG Great, he's extremely defiant and cynical, especially if he's able to get a rise out of his father for reasons prior to knowing about the business, I'm not exactly sure (except for him being the mistress's son before the first wife committed suicide).

Episode 6 vs. Episode 1

Given that we didn't get any scenes of him bonding with Korn throughout the episode unlike NDE Great, I can only imagine there's a bias towards Korn as the favorite son between the two where one listens and submits while the other vocal and disobeys. Along with being defiant and having the guts to gauge the wold with cockiness, he is also a coward that's easily persuaded and manipulated. This shows up most during scenes like the hit and run or when Title demanded Great to help get rid of Dome's body and in turn, become an accomplice to the crime.

Episode 6 vs. Episode 1

OG Great also operates on this mindset of being silver spooned his entire life more explicitly than NDE Great, and becomes hot headed when placed under immense pressure once he's unable to play mind games with his targets such as Tyme. Even though their hook up and Tyme leaking his sex tape caused a scandal with his dad's company, the amount of trauma Great has dealt with growing up (this kid never played a crane machine game so I can only imagine how lonely his upbringing was) resorts to him chasing after those dopamine hits and becoming shameless as a result.

One of the few times OG Great chose his own morals and acted upon them in the storyline was when he found out about his parents and their involvement with the scheme, but this decision only occurred when people he cared about died or got hurt, like Nan and Tyme. Because he had developed a short spanned codependency on Tyme (whether for more sex or because he found his serious demeanor amusing), once he had been left with nothing due to reasons beyond his control, he leaves his family behind after the confirmation of their crimes.

Unlike NDE Great, OG Great is self centered and only acts when pushed beyond his limits, but only if the consequences of that limit involves someone he genuinely cares about (this is the stark difference between Dome's demise versus Tyme's meltdown after Nan's death). Sure, people can argue that Great knows Tyme at a similar level of depth like he knew Dome (apart from being sexually involved with one another), but his interests peaks in Tyme once he finds out that he's seeking revenge against his father and finds that mere effort entertaining for him. In the OG timeline, Great's flaws directly causes his detriment in the end, getting shot by Dome's older brother Tonkla in vengeance.

Episode 6 vs. Episode 5

In Tyme's timeline, there aren't as many moving parts that we saw on screen as much as Great's (since their particular story is limited narrative through Great's perspective) but these events remain consistent in his story:

Tyme works a hospital shift

Den tells him about his NDE research

Tyme works the night shift with Great in his proximity

Tyme attacks Korn in search of Nan

Great confronts Tyme at the hospital the next day

What I found most interesting in OG Tyme's timeline was how linear and straightforward the events occurred in sequence, which would have been the case if Great never asked him about his occurring NDE symptoms like he did in the NDE timeline while being under Tyme's care. Tyme's prior knowledge to Den's research served as a seed planted in the back of his mind, which if Great hadn't asked him (if he chose to help Title get rid of Dome's body), Tyme would have went along with his plan and shelved Den's research with no intention in intervention. The difference in approach between OG Tyme and NDE Tyme was rooted in their initial encounters, both being Great bumping into Tyme and how it was handled.

If Great continued heading his way, Tyme's initial impression of Great would have been slightly annoyed (which we saw a preview of how he yelled at Great during the first cardiac arrest Great had when he bumped into Tyme and didn't help him). But if Great stopped to apologize and even help Tyme with the papers, there is a hint of consideration in that gesture, even if Great himself is a flawed person capable of doing bad things. For some, basic human decency isn't a mind blowing trait for people to fawn over, but this can be contrasted when Tyme asks P'Anne for his information and finally gets confirmation of Great's identity.

Episode 6 vs. Episode 1

Episode 6 vs. Episode 3

From the perspective of Tyme who's dedicated his personal life in bringing down the family responsible for the death of his parents, I'm sure having a painted image of what inhumane and vulgar things the family is capable of, Great's first impression as the younger son of the enemy is somehow normal? As if this man isn't capable of hurting a fly, let alone killing people like his father does (why did I think of fucking Lord Ozai and Prince Zuko when proofreading this loooooord someone send me to bed asap). Rather than treating Great as just a means to an end with no prior attachment and full intent in harming the family's reputation as OG Tyme would have, NDE Tyme's prior interactions with Great by him helping Tyme with his papers (the readiness to correct his faults while providing a solution to aid in the damage caused, big or small), Great bringing his hurt friend to the hospital without acknowledging his own injuries (a sign of selflessness and reliability) and asking Tyme about his symptoms related to his cardiac arrests and moments of NDE, there are layers being shed off of Tyme's preconceived notions about the family.

Episode 2

Episode 6

Not only are there layers, Tyme's curiosity peaks because why is the son of the family who killed his parents seemingly harmless and clumsy? Shouldn't someone of his background be more cautious and conceal himself more, especially when speaking to a stranger such as Tyme? Does he know what his parents do and the damage they have caused for countless families and victims? In comparison to OG Great who's callous and bold, NDE Great is soft and easily startled, therefore, needs a more calculative and somewhat honest approach to secure a connection to get closer to bringing the family down.

Episode 6 vs. Episode 3

Characterization: A vs. B

When writing my reflections, I found it interesting how TymeGreat's relationship develops within their respective timelines, especially how each encounter they had with one another fueled different emotions and residual feelings. In the OG timeline, their relationship is innately lustful with distance between them, their main objectives involve concealed vengeance, amusement in the series of events occurring between them and not being able to access the full story of the two worlds both individuals were a part of before their paths crossed.

Whereas in the NDE timeline, their relationship began with a curiosity that defied expectations and welcomed communication, such as asking intimate questions and offering valuable solutions to majority of their problems: Great asking Tyme about his cardiac symptoms, Tyme consulting Den about his research after Great's conversation, Great confiding in Tyme about his upbringing, Tyme revealing the cause of his parents' death, Great confronting his own family for their crimes and seeking accountability. All of these traits wouldn't have been present if that initial hit and run played out differently: they would have crossed paths regardless but their attitudes and motives would shape the state of their relationship.

Episode 6 vs. Episode 3

Episode 6 vs. Episode 5

However, there are innate traits that remained consistent in both characters. Great with his impulsivity and tackling his problems head strong, Tyme with his nonchalance and caring attitude towards the people he loves (such as his grandmother). What really caused the divergence of their whims were purely based in the circumstances they find themselves in during their initial encounters. When they met at the bar, Great's impulsivity charged the motion of their relationship, ending with his cowardice separating the two once Nan died at the hands of Samarn. Tyme's detached attitude that drove his girlfriend away from him and poses concern from Den as a fellow doctor in how he denies his patients of their own identity and autonomy, causes him to take advantage of Great's relations to the family, ending in his own death after denying the bribe by Great's father.

Episode 6

Episode 1

Despite it all, the most significant element that both Tyme and Great share is the leverage both have over one another through their emotional attachments, which may seem small in comparison to more flashy events within the storyline but for these two characters: it makes a world of a difference. When NDE Tyme reveals his identity during the ambush against Korn, which led Great to help Tyme find Nan and as a result, saving her life. This is critical as OG Great is inherently a coward with a dopamine deficiency and enjoys causing trouble for his father's reputation at his own demise.

Episode 4

When Tyme is willing to risk his life exposing Great's family to the press, Great reminds him of his grandmother, driving Tyme to accept the bribe from Great's dad and find safety at Aunt Ging's house together. Unlike OG Tyme, whose reserved and passive attitude enables his life to be filled with the absurd and mundane, that money is the driving force of life and the root of all evil that took his parents away from him, so what else is there to live for as long as he avenges his family?

Episode 5

Now for my questions for the last two episodes: if Great dies in the OG timeline and is actively dying in the NDE timeline, since Tyme's destined fate to die in the OG timeline has been altered once he's notified of Great's condition in the emergency room by Den, he has a chance of avoiding death that OG Tyme suffers from. It may be a stretch but look at the two hit men who targeted Tyme and Great.

Episode 1 vs. Episode 5

The hit man in episode 1 look significantly younger than the hit man in episode 5, but same facial hair? The shadow in the first image throws me off but it's freaky to speculate as it sent shivers down my spine whenever I got a better screenshot of them. If I put my two brain cells together: in the OG timeline, Tonkla targets and shoots Great but Tyme is also shot in episode 1, which makes me believe that their timelines are converging somehow as both of them enter their 4 minutes of limbo and their memories and experiences are warped.

In the NDE timeline, because Dome is saved and returns home to Tonkla, the only person reasonable in targeting Great would be Manee after she finds out which family is responsible for her son's involvement in illegal business (which her giving up her life savings and being given the 4th card during her ritual that calls for separation of loved ones). This separation in question is the separation of Tyme from Great as Great's fighting for his vitals to stabilize just as Tyme rushes to the OR?

Because NDE Tyme goes with his grandmother to Aunt Ging's instead of sending her on her own as OG Tyme does, both of them are technically off the radar from being targeted, or at least bought enough time to make a safe escape if Great's father goes back on his word outlined in the proposed bribe. Seeing as Tyme's wearing the same shirt in both timelines at this point, we're now waiting to see how this will play out, and I'm literally so excited to lose sleep all over again.

Episode 1 vs. Episode 6

If you made it to the end, pat yourself on the back! And if you've been actively reading my previous posts regarding my takeaways, I really appreciate the love they've been getting! I'm more than happy to hyperfixate on this series and help out with really digging deep in the details that could help those who are having difficulty following along with the series. Idk, y'all got to yell at Bible on Twitter then because he thinks he's so funny tweeting this:

If y'all would like to read more, check out my tags and thank you again for sticking around, see y'all next Friday or whatever day my brain finishes finalizing its thoughts to share with y'all :)

#4 minutes #4minutes #4 minutes the series #bible wichapas #jes jespipat #jesbible #thai bl #thai drama #thai series #bl series #mambo.4minyap #mambo.speaks #call me the yap master atp #i'm just an elite employee #also needed to relieve stress making pretty gifs of jes and bible before tackling this post #which thank y'all for liking them!#kisses to everyone mwah mwah mwah <3

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lovebeinaprincessworld · 2 years ago

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The enemy’s love (Miles Quaritch x reader)

Masterlist

Part 1

Description: After your father found you and Quaritch in a compromising position, you were left to figure this mess out.

Warnings: p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, talk about cum, breeding kink, talk of pregnancy, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, also there’s no spider in my stories bc he sucks

5392 words

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes that you and Miles sat there in eachothers embrace, just enjoying the sensation of him still inside of you, so close that you couldn’t really form a productive thought, before you got interrupted by a voice that made the blood in your veins freeze. „I swear to God, I’ll give you thirty seconds to get dressed and get out of there, before I go in and kill that bastard“, your dads voice was eerily calm, you knew he was beyond angry.

That little snitch Tahset must’ve folded when he was discovered away from the cells. When the meaning of the words that your father spoke registered in your brain, you flinched, trying to scramble out of your mates arms. Miles was rigid underneath you, and when you tried to move he growled lowly, the thought of you leaving him for an uncertain amount of time made some instincts flare up. „Miles, you need to let me go“, you whispered urgently, really not wanting your father to see you on this compromising position.

„Fifteen seconds“, the Olo’eyktan barked from outside, you could hear his breathing got heavier. With all your might you pushed yourself up, Miles finally loosening his arms and you winced slightly when his dick slipped out of you, his cum starting to leak down your thighs slowly. Before it could make a total mess, you slipped on your tweng and top, everything at least a little secured. „Put them on!“, you were panicking and threw his pants at him, stumbling around slightly because your muscles were sore from the exertion of the last hour.

Miles begrudgingly stood up and pulled on his cargo pants, and just as he closed the button your father reared open the cell door, pinning you mate against the wall before he could react. „You fucking touched my daughter Quaritch?!“, your father was the same height as Miles, both of them baring their teeth and hissing in anger and you felt so incredibly small. „Dad stop it!“, you pleaded with him, but you knew he was too far gone.

„And guess what Sully, she loved it“, you wanted to slap him yourself now, saying something like that to your father with that stupid grin on his face. It seemed like all your father saw was red and before you could do anything, he had already landed two punches in your mates face. You gasped horrified, Miles was still laughing and pushed your father off, making him stagger, but to your surprise he didn’t punch him back.

He spit some blood onto the ground, your father punching him in the gut, and Miles pulled your dads feet out from underneath him. The Olo’eyktan landed with a thud, growling at the Colonel and hissing: „Come on you coward, fight back!“ And your lover had nothing better to do than provoke him again. „I wouldn’t want to hurt my father in law“, some blood dripped from his nose down onto his lips and you finally took your chance to jump in between the pair.

You could see the gears in your dads head turning, before his eyes widened. „You mated with him before Eywa (Y/N)?“, your fathers wrathful eyes were locked on you now, making you shrink slightly. Your mouth openend and closed without a sound leaving your throat and seemingly your lack of response was enough for him, he pushed you aside firmly and your mates jaw had to take another swing. „Stop it! Please, Dad I’m sorry okay? But this isn’t helping anything!“, you were practically begging him and he scoffed. He was about to lunge at your mate again, when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes and he grumbled and took a step back.

„Please, let’s just go for now and talk about it okay? Please ma sempul“, your clung onto his arm, trying to distract him and he slowly started to move. „Don’t think this is over Quaritch“, he bared his fangs at Miles again, but he just wiped his bloody face with his discarded shirt and sat back down where he sat before you came. Your father pointedly locked the door of the cell, your mate snickering inside, and that alone seemed to provoke your dad so much that he almost ripped it back open if it wasn’t for you hanging onto him.

Your father was quietly leading you away, and when you looked over your shoulder and caught Miles eyes for a last time, he tugged you along roughly. When you stepped into the forest you passed by a terrified looking Tahset, he couldn’t even meet your glare. „Stand guard, properly this time“, your father sneered at him without even glancing at him and then it was silent the whole rest of the way.

You knew better than to try and talk about it now, your father would probably never be able to be rational about this, much less right in that moment. The only thing swirling around in your mind was that your mate was probably still hurting and bleeding, but if you wanted to have any chance to resolve this you needed to stifle these caring instincts for now.

„Go to sleep“, your father pushed you into the direction of your families home, not moving there himself. „Sempu“, you were basically whimpering, you hated it when your dad was angry with you, „I’m sorry.“ Suddenly the tears were overflowing, the events of the last hours just too much for you and your father hard facade broke down at seeing his eldest daughter in tears. „Fuck“, he whispered and then he stepped closer again, taking you into his arms. (Daddy)

You immediately started sobbing, the comfort of your fathers arms making you feel protected and you just couldn’t bear this anymore. „I-I’m sorry it’s him, I’m sorry can’t fight it“, each of your heartwreching sobs pierced your fathers heart and he felt so guilty. Of course he hated the colonel, but he loved you so, so much more. „Don’t be sorry ma‘ite. You’re the most innocent one in all of this. I’m sorry I’m so angry, I swear I’m not angry with you“, your dad kissed your head, still holding you close while your sobs started to subside and you sniffled, a few stray tears still falling.

„I just am so frustrated because I cannot protect you from this“, he whispered and your hold on him tightened, „your mother, your grandmother, they grew up with this, the know they can’t do anything but accept Eywas will. And I know I have to accept it too, there’s not future otherwise. But everytime I think of this son of a bitch even looking at you, I wanna-”, you interrupted him there, pulling back slightly. „I know, I know this is going to be so hard, and I’m sorry it has to be this way Dad“, you looked so guilty Jake wanted to hug Quaritch and welcome him to the family for a second, just to see you happy.

„Its like your grandmother told me, It is Eywas will and this could be the thing that will bring us the deciding benefit in this war. Even if I don’t like him, I know that you being mated at least means he would never do anything to harm you“, he sighed, hating the fact that sooner or later he will have to accept this.

„I love you Dad“, you were yawning, the exhaustion hitting you like a brick. „I love you babygirl“, he kissed your head, guiding you into your families home.

———————

The next day, Jake had calmed down a little. He hated Quaritch and he hated that his daughter was mated to him, but he knew he couldn’t change it. He could use the Colonels knowledge to win this war, and if you taught him the way of your people, he would be a powerful addition as a warrior too. But before he could fight alongside them, there was a long way to go, trust needed to be earned. But at least he would’ve one more person who knows how to operate guns.

It was already starting to get dark when he decided to go to Quaritchs cell. (Y/N) had been fidgety all day and he knew it was because she wasn’t with her mate. Silently sighing he started to make his way to the cells, he couldn’t let his babygirl suffer like that. He needed to talk to the Colonel alone, figure out the way this was going to go, so that his daughter could be happy.

The village was quiet, dinner had already taken place and it was a calm evening. When he arrived at the cell, Tashet was gone and in his place was another warrior, slightly older than his son. „Leave us“, Jake ordered the guard, already in a bad mood at what he was about to do, but he had to remind himself he did it for you.

„What can I do for you Sully?“, Quaritch knew right away it was him, he knew sooner or later the Olo’eyktan would come to him. Jake didn’t say anything at first, taking the key and opening the door to the cell, just standing in the entrance and looking down at the still bloodied Colonel. The blood had dried, but he didn’t look too good. „How are we going to do this Quaritch“, the clanleader sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in defeat.

„I could tell you everything I know about how you can win this war and you let me be with her“, he was always so cocky, Jake had to control himself not to punch that stupid grin off his face. „No, its not how ‚we‘ as in the clan can win this war, it’s how ‚we‘ as in you are part of this clan now can win this war. You are mated to my daughter, and she will show you the way of our people, you will be one of us and you will fight alongside us when the time comes Quaritch. Are you willing to betray your own race? Just like you told me I did?“, Jake spat everything out that had been brooding on his mind since last night, and the Colonel was stunned for a second.

„I would do anything for her, I don’t give a shit about anyone else“, was the only thing Miles answered, and it was the truth. He didn’t give a shit about the humans, or anyone on earth. He cared only about (Y/N). Jake seemed satisfied with that answer. „Get up“, he signaled the other male and Quartich got up with a grunt. The Olo’eyktan really did a number on him last night.

„I do this for her Quaritch, only her. And if you hurt her in any way or betray the clan, I will kill you“, Jake threatened the man, eventhough he was pretty sure that the Coloenl wouldn’t betray his daughter, he seemed to be effected by the bond even more than she was. „Understood“, Quaritch seemed to take this seriously for once and that calmed the uneasiness of letting him out of his cell a little.

„Follow me“, Jake started walking, leading Quaritch through the forest and back into the camp, stopping near a tent that was near his family’s home, but slightly more private behind a few bushes and right next to the wall. It was empty until now, a spare tent if someone needed it, and now he would give it to the Colonel. He tried to not think about how his oldest child would probably move there too, it was the common thing to do, a mated pair should live together, especially vitra muntxa. She couldn’t be away from Quaritch too much, even she tried.

„This is going to be your tent, I will sent someone over with clothes and food, just stay here for now“, Jake told him and didn’t feel the need to mention that the someone he would be sending over would be his daughter. She was already restless all day, she would need to be close to her mate when Jake came back for sure. He left the Colonel there and made his way back to his family, hoping he had made the right decision.

You had tried all day to suppress the need to be with your mate, you hadn’t been sleeping very well, and the distance between him and you had only effected you more throughout your day. Your mother was looking at you with concern at dinner, but you couldn’t really muster up a convincing smile. You missed him, and he wasn’t even far away, you just didn’t want to go behind your fathers back again.

You were sitting behind your families tent on a rock, weaving a basket absentmindedly, when your father approached you with an uncertain look on his face. „Hey ma‘ite“, he smiled a little, kissing your temple and sitting next to you. You put the basket down and turned towards your father, you could sense he wanted to say something.

„Hey Dad“, you smiled encouragingly - at least you tried. Your father closed his eyes and took a deep breath before saying what he came to say. „I talked to Quaritch“, he started and the name alone made your heartrate faster, „and I decided that if he agreed to help us win this war and you teach him the way of our people, I would let him out of his cell.“

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. „What?“, you breathed, the prospect of being allowed to see him making you all giddy. „I don’t fully trust him, but I believe he wouldn’t do anything to harm you, so I decided to assign him the tent near ours, next to the wall, you know?“, your father gestured in the direction where you knew the formerly empty tent was.

„But…why? Why did you change your mind?“, you were basically whispering, scared that if you talked to loud this would turn out to be a dream or something. Your father smiled gently down at you. „I saw how much you were suffering today, I want you to be happy, and I think that maybe there is a chance to make this work - there has to be“, in that moment you were so incredibly grateful for your father, and you couldn’t help yourself, you threw yourself into his arms.

„Thank you sempu“, you were so glad, because honestly you couldn’t have kept away from your mate any longer, and you very much preferred the tent to the cell. „Now go, get some food and clothes for him on the way“, your father ushered you away, „oh, and maybe some healing supplies, I really did a number on him.“ You couldn’t even be annoyed by your fathers smirk at the thought of hurting Miles, you were just so elated.

You had gathered everything in record time, it was already dark outside and you could make your way to the slightly secluded tent in peace. It seemed like the whole clan knew already, because you had gotten a lot of curious and apprehensive stares today. You stopped infront of the entrance, taking a deep breath and calming your heart, you were so excited to see him again.

When you stepped in it was dark, except for the small lantern in the corner illuminating the room a little and your eyes immediately zoned in on your mate. He was laying on the large bed made out of plant fibers in the corner, sprawled out and breathing calmly. The sight alone took some pressure of your chest. You set down the tweng and the food on the small table nearby and slowly walked closer with the healing supplies you brought. Your dad was right, there was a lot of dried blood on him and he had a black eye, his lip slightly split open too.

You sat next to him on the bed gently, but it still moved a bit and he startled awake with a grunt. He sat up swiftly and his eyes locked on you right away. The way his eyes widened and he smiled gently when he realized who you were made your stomach flutter. „Hey“, you quietly said, a little shy now that your last encounter played in your head. „Come here princess“, he grinned that stupid hot grin and grabbed your waist, lifting you onto his lap as if you weighed nothing.

You blushed, your hands holding onto his strong shoulders. „I missed you“, he smirked, his thumbs drawing circles on your hips and you were beaming at him. „I missed you too“, you softly smiled and leaned in, placing your lips on his gently. He reciprocated passionately, but as he was about to slide his tongue into your mouth, he winced and you pulled away worriedly. You had to giggle a little when he chased your lips, but then you saw the cut on his lips and remembered the healing supplies.

He grumbled unhappily when you pulled back a little to reach for the pouch with the rag, water bottle and pastes but settled down again when you got comfortable in his lap. „I need to clean your cuts and wipe the blood away“, you explained and his big arms circled your waist, caging you in and making you hum contently. „Alright“, he leaned back against the one solid wall the tent had, where it was built against the stone wall.

His eyes watched your every move and you carefully wiped all the dried blood off, his muscles moving underneath his blue skin where you were touching him. You started at his chest, the blood from his nose had dripped down there, and made your way upwards towards his face. You were careful around the slightly bruised eye and the sore nose but he didn’t even wince, he was completely enthralled by you.

He didn’t even feel any pain, he could only concentrate on the girl on his lap caring for him. The domestic atmosphere making him feel like everything could actually work out and be alright. „Does it hurt?“, her soft voice reached his ears, the colonel scoffing a little offended. „No princess, I served in the army for decades I don’t care about superficial pain like this anymore“, he smirked at the way you blushed.

When you remembered that eventhough this body was in its mid twenties, but his spirit was way way older than you, you got flustered. Not because you were uncomfortable, but because being with an ‚older’ man kind of made you a little wet. You wiped of the rest of the blood and took out the paste, but you could see him inhale and his pupils blow. „What about the things I said got you wet already?“, he grinned his canine grin and you felt the heat rise in your cheeks, distracting yourself by gently applying the paste to his bruise and his scratches. Now that the blood was off, it didn’t even look that bad.

When you had put the paste away again, your perspective suddenly changed and you were on your back, your mate caging you in from above. „Now, now, it’s not very nice to ignore my question“, he scolded you in a playful manner, but the position was already making you needy. „I don’t…it’s embarrassing“, you whimpered, and he barked out a laugh, grinning when he saw you rub your legs together.

„Come one, tell me and I’ll eat that sweet little pussy and breed you real good“, he whispered in your ear and they twitched in response, a pathetic noise leaving your throat and your tail wrapping around his biceps in comfort. „Y-you said…in the army…decades“, you were talking so quietly and were mumbling so bad that he didn’t catch all words, but he realized what it was. „You like the thought of an older man fucking you love?“, he chuckled at your embarrassed form underneath him and quickly tucked off your top to tease your nipples.

You gasped when he suddenly sucked at your nipple, the other being pinched by his hand and your were arching into him. „Good thing I’ve got the stamina of a young men again though, so I can pump you full of my cum all night“, he groaned at the thought of your pussy dripping with his cum and you all fucked out. „Miles, need you“, you were whining and rubbing your thighs together for some much needed friction.

„Mhm don’t worry princess, I will take care of my mate“, he hummed against your chest and you moaned at hearing him refer to you as his mate. He swiftly took your queue, connecting his to yours and making tsaheylu again. Both of you shuddered at the now familiar feeling, you had missed him so much. He ripped off your tweng and groaned at the intense smell. „Fuck you smell so good, can’t wait to bury my face in your pussy“, his lewd language made you even wetter and then he acted on his words and he licked a long stripe between your folds.

His large fivefingered hands gripped your thighs tightly and pulled them over his shoulders, his tongue teasingly flicking over your clit. „Please yawne I need more“, you whispered, desperately trying to move your core closer to his mouth, but his grip wasn’t budging. He chuckled and finally relented, sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue repeatedly. You moaned at the sudden attack and when two of his fingers slipped into you to the knuckles and you were a goner.

Your back arched off the bed and your hands buried in his short hair, the grip you had on him making him groan against you. He loved pleasuring you so much, the thought of him being the reason you were falling apart made him so horny he started to grind against the bed, his dick painfully hard and ready to fill you up. But first he wanted you to cum on his tongue, the need to satisfy his mate was in the forefront of his mind.

When he started to curl his fingers inside of you with every thrust, hitting that one spongey spot inside of you, you couldn’t hold it back anymore. „M-miles I’m gonna cum“, you whined and then he gave your clit a particularly hard flick, making you fall over the edge and cum with a silent scream. You clenched around his thick blue fingers, drenching them in your cum.

But when you came down from your high, twitching form the overstimulation, he didn’t stop - just like last time. You writhed underneath him, trying to get away from his long tongue, but his grip was like steel. „Is too much“, you whined and he pulled away momentarily with a chuckle. „Mhm princess, I know you can take it, want you to come once more before I breed you. Need you all ready so my seed will take, don’t you want that?“, his breath hit your swollen cunt, his words making you clench around nothing.

„Yes, yes I want that“, your primal instincts were going wild with the thought of him knocking you up. „Then take it“, he grinned, his canines on display, before diving back into your pussy. He flattened his tongue, the big muscle stimulating your clit again, and the rough texture almost driving you to insanity. You couldn’t believe how fast he was riling you up again.

Suddenly he dragged his tongue lower, pushing it into your entrance as far as it would go and wiggling it against the spot inside you that made you see stars. You were so sensitive that you almost came from just his tongue inside of you, and when his rough fingers started circling your clit, the coil in your belly snapped so fast and so intense you had to hold a hand over your mouth to not shout the village down.

He could feel you clench hard around his fingers, your cum flooding his tongue and making him dizzy. He was almost mad that you wouldn’t let him hear the pretty sounds you made, but on the other hand he wouldn’t want Sully to run in here if he heard his precious daughter screaming. His tongue fucked you through your orgasm, and only when you were basically sobbing and wincing from the sensitivity did he pull back.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, kneeling between your spread thighs and appreciating the sight of his fucked out girl panting underneath him. He quickly shed his pants, he didn’t put anything else back on after last night. His tail wrapped around your thigh firmly, holding them open while he stroked his cock a little, a few drops of his precum falling and landing on your abused pussy. The sight of them mixing with your own slick made him growl, you were so ready for him.

You were so overstimulated, that when he mounted you and his cock slid between your folds, you whimpered and tried to scoot back, closing your thighs. But his tail held you in place, his hands pushing your thighs even more open with an unhappy cluck of his tongue. „No, no pretty girl, you will take this cock and you will love it won’t you?“, he scowled a little, and you whined. „You’re my good girl aren’t you?“, he rubbed his tip over your clit repeatedly, his precum making a mess. „Yes, yes I’m your good girl“, you gasped and he finally pushed his head into you.

How on earth were you still so tight, eventhough he had fucked you yesterday? He was losing his mind, his grip on reality slipping for a second and he buried himself as deep as you would take him. You whimpered at the sudden intrusion, and he snapped back into the moment, giving you a second before he started to move.

His bulging biceps were caging you in, your hands gripping them to ground yourself and you relaxed into his embrace when his lips softly found yours. „I love you“, he mumbled between kisses, the confession making you smile against his mouth. „I love you“, you mumbled, the human term of affection feeling familiar on your tongue.

You were pushed out of your gentle bubble when he delivered a particularly hard thrust and caught that one spot in the process, making you throw your head back in pleasure. „Don’t stop“, you panted, and he continued abusing your cunt with his harsh pace. „Never“, he smirked, hitching up your leg, the coil in your stomach tightening already.

You were a mess beneath him, whimpering and moaning on his cock, and it wasn’t even all the way inside, a few centimeters still outside. „Mhm sweetheart, I know you can take your mates cock all the way“, your eyes opened and looked at him shocked. „I-I don’t know, you’re so big“, you stuttered, you already felt like you were stuffed beyond your limit, not sure that you could take him all the way right now.

His hand wandered down between your legs, where he was still thrusting inside of you, and rubbed your clit. You thought he agreed that you wouldn’t be able to take it all, so you were concentrating on your fast approaching orgasm. But you were wrong. „Oh princess, that wasn’t a question“, he grinned, sweat dripping down his temple, and before you could comprehend what was happening, his fingers and cock had pushed you over the edge. The moment your orgasm hit, you could feel his tail tightening around your thigh, and he forced all of his dick inside of you with a hard, unforgiving thrust.

It hurt a little, but you were so deeply lost in your pleasure that the pain only amplified it and after he thrusted all the way inside a few times, it seemed to dull down and wasn’t noticeable anymore. Eywa, this was your third orgasm already and he didn’t seem to slow down, his heavy balls now slapping against your ass while he buried himself in your swollen and clenching cunt over and over again.

Tears were leaking out of your eyes and you were whimpering, your pussy was so used and sensitive, you couldn’t take it anymore. „M-miles please“, you were digging your nails into his biceps, the slight pain making him growl in pleasure, his thrust getting even harder, battering your cervix, „it’s too much.“

„Oh my love, I’m not done with you yet“, he moaned when you clenched around him, „know you can take it, you were made just for me.“ His words made you leak more slick around his cock and he grinned when he felt it. „How about I’ll make you cum one more time before I’ll pump you full? Sounds good?“, he groaned at your precious face looking up at him, while his cock still fucked you stupid.

„I-I can’t“, you could barely think straight anymore, and when he changed his angle slightly and his leaking head caught your spongey spot with every thrust, you couldn’t believe you were starting to feel your high build a fourth time. „You will though, trust me“, he growled, his voice sending shivers down your arched back.

He started nipping at your neck, his pace picking up and the lewd sounds that were reaching your ears with every thrust made you moan. You were so not going to walk tomorrow, but you didn’t care it felt too good. „Come on, cum for me one last time princess“, he moaned in your ear, both of them twitching at the sensation.

You were so overwhelmed, your body already so exhausted from your previous orgasms that you didn’t know if you could even cum another time, but the colonel proved you wrong, his hand finding its way to your clit once more, pinching it softly and rolling it between his fingers. You winced, the pleasure boderline painful, but it made you reach your high nonetheless.

You gripped him like a vice, your soft velvety walls pulling him in and your vision went white for a second with the force of your orgasm. „Fuck, you’re so tight sweetheart, gonna fill you up so good, I’ll make sure I’ll put a baby in you“, he thrusted into you one last time, his heavy balls resting against your ass, thightening and with a guttural growl he spilled into you, his head nestled thightly against your cervix, his seed flowing directly into your womb.

Your orgasm flared up a little again, the sheer amount of cum making a pathetic moan leave your mouth, your body completely caged in by the tall blue man on top of you. He breathed hard against your neck, his tail squeezing your thigh and his lips brushing your skin. „Such a good mate, taking all of my cum“, he purred satisfied.

The feeling of his mate pressed against him, all claimed and pleasured and happy made his heart beat faster, your connection making his feelings even more intense. The thought of you really getting pregnant, made him grin against your neck. He turned you both around, so you could lay on top of him comfortably, his cock not slipping out once. You nuzzled into his neck, humming happily and clenching slightly because of the movement.

He kissed your forehead softly, his arms holding you close and making sure you were safe. „Fuck sweetheart, I hope I got you pregnant“, he rumbled against your hair, his hands squeezing your waist. „Mhm me too“, you mumbled, already half asleep. „I’ll keep you on my cock all night, make sure nothing spills“, he grinned at that, this was heaven he was sure. He had to suppress a chuckle at the thought of making Sully a grandpa.

————————

Sooo I finally wrote the second part, don’t know if there’ll be a third, depends on what y’all would want, so let me know! Hope you liked this one <3

Taglist: @fandom-garbage @taleiak @ohshititsfenharel @zeryodos @alexandra-001 @deepdarktower @clockmax @shadowmoonlight0604 @l0stinth3nightsky @eywas-heir @brooklynscherry-z @liyahsocorro

#x reader #fluff #angst #smut #avatar #avatar james cameron #jake sully #neytiri #avatar the way of water #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch #colonel quaritch #recomsoldiers

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baratiddyappreciator · 8 months ago

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Pegging the Baki Cast

If you thought I could write well when it came to the reader getting pounded on their period, then you've clearly never heard me talk about pegging men before. NSFW, minors DNI. Both HCs and short stories, you're all welcome ;)

"Baby, can I peg you?"

Baki:

He agrees before he even process what you asked him, but once he realizes what you asked, he doesn't take it back. He's no coward, and you'd seemed so excited when you'd asked, he couldn't possibly take that agreement back.

Of course, he doesn't have anything needed for pegging at home, so you'll both have to pick something out. Don't let him just pick anything though, he doesn't know what he's able to take just yet and will 100% overestimate his abilities.

CLEARLY he can take that massive 12" toy with a blunt head meant for someone with a bit more experience. Never done anal a single day in his life, but he wants that one.

He has no idea what he's doing. He'll take a shower, come out all sexy like "time to fuck my ass baby" but he's done like zero prep beyond being clean and horny. You're going to have to walk him through the process as you're doing it, because he's going to ask you a billion questions.

When you actually get into it though, there are no words, he's just laying there with this wide-eyed, almost dazed look on his face. He's fine, he'd tell you if he wasn't, he's just getting used to the feeling.

Vocal, wiggly and will definitely have a new appreciation for what you go through when he's on top. Would he do it again? Maybe on special occasions, and he's normally the one to ask. Long forgotten are the dreams of big toys though, he's found out he likes the smaller stuff.

Whining usually got Baki what he wanted, and in his mind, it wouldn't be any different here. But the issue was that he wasn't in charge here. No, as a matter of fact, he was the one submitting as your hips slanted against his, relentless and bringing pleasure, but not enough pleasure. He whined and groaned, desperate for some more friction, but every time he started reaching for his leaking cock, your hips would draw almost all the way back and stop, just barely leaving the tip of the strap inside of him, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing that pleasure, nails biting into your hips to ground him. There would be bruises after this was done, but there was no use in complaining about it, not when such beautiful sounds escaped his lips. Your hips ground deep against his, and his eyes rolled back, a deep, guttural groan escaping his lips, a shiver running up his spine as his legs squeezed around your hips, holding you in closer.

Silent pleas for more met your ears in a beautiful display of his voice going as light and soft as possible, breathy as he focused on the feelings racing throuhg his body. You could be rougher with him, you could grab him by his thick throat and choke, but that wasn't what was being done this time. This time it was just an introduction, a gentle introduction, not that he seemed to get that at this point. There was a small thought at the back of your mind, a hint of worry that he might just crush your hips or your spine with how hard he was flexing his legs or how hard he was jolting, but there was more trust than fear. Your hands braced on the wide expanses of his chest as you ground deep into him, lips pressing against his own and he moaned, soft, light and airy as his arms wrapped around your shoulders in a shaking hug.

His pupils blown wide, lips parted, kiss swollen and and wet. He was almost completely gone from the pleasure, that was clear as day, but the second your eyes met he got lost in them, seeing so much in them. He could have sword he was seeing the very universe in your eyes, but the stars invaded the rest of his vision and he realized that he was cumming a moment later, gasping and moaning as he held you close. "Oh god baby please don't stop, just like that please-!" he choked as he bucked his hips against yours, desperately seeking to milk his own orgasm for as long as he could, chasing the feeling of your strap so deep inside of him that he was pretty sure it would leave an indent in his guts. If this was how it felt for you when he was on top, then maybe he'd give that to you when he could feel his toes again.

Kozue:

Oh fuck yes. She can see that look in your eyes, and she knows that you'd wreck her shit. She's all for it, especially if you two have the place to yourselves, because then she can be all over you.

She's got a few toys of her own, but she'd definitely be interested in getting a harness for herself, or maybe even a double-ended dildo so you can both peg each-other at the same time. Granted, this is one of the few chances you'll likely get to see her stash though.

She'll absolutely pull up an online sex toy shop and have you pick out one that you both like. Don't think she isn't also getting a strap now that you've brought it up.

Not that hard, she's got an entire self-lubricating system meant to take stuff in. This being said, she definitely has a secret bottle of lube ready just in case, and she's definitely giving herself some foreplay, not that she'll need much considering how excited she is.

She's competent and the second least likely to just go dumb when she's bottoming for you because she's done that before. She'll tell you exactly what she wants and when she wants it. Harder? Now. Deeper? NOW. She's going to tell you.

Confident and in charge despite being on the bottom, she knows what she likes and she knows how to get it, there's very little experimenting that needs to be done beyond what you both want to try. Would she do it again? Of course! Maybe she'll even switch with you!

She was so, so very different to what you were used to. Her hands braced on your shoulders, her hips practically slamming down on yours, her head thrown back as she moaned, not worried in the slightest about the volume, her slick smearing on your hips as she rode you, and she was riding you hard. The soft, slick noise of her cunt around the strap one of the few noises you could hear right now, her hips rocking against yours hard, grinding down, lifting, slamming down, grinding, lifting, her nails digging hard into your shoulders with each downwards stroke. Each time you tried to move to flip her over, her hips slammed down against yours and she forced your back down against the bed with a groan. She knew what she wanted, and right now what she wanted was to ride you like her life was depending on it.

Her hips slowed for only a moment, her hips rolling against yours as she leaned down to kiss you, biting your bottom lip and rolling it between her teeth, a hungry growl escaping her as she stared into your eyes before pressing herself flat against your chest, legs squeezing your hips as she pulled you along, rolling the both of you over. This was your turn now, your turn to be on top, your turn to give pleasure, and she was encouraging you to do what you wanted. That didn't mean she just sat there passively however, oh no, passive wasn't in her vocabulary, not during sex. Her nails bit into your back, her chest pressing up against yours, legs looped around your hips to pull you in closer.

Her arms were deceptively strong as she pulled you in for a crushing hug, shivering slightly as her orgasm drew nearer and nearer. It was a form of praise in itself that she clung to you so hard as she neared her climax, her moans for you and only you to hear, impressions of her pleasure left in your skin via hickeys, scratches and faint bite marks that had really only been slight indents, done in a state of euphoria and slight overstimulation. "Oh god- If you stop right now I'm going to kill you I swear!" She gasped, arching against you again, nails dragging down your forearms, before her head was thrown back against the pillows, a dramatic moan escaping her, but it was indication enough that she was right on the cusp of cumming. If you were wet before, you were absolutely drenched now. Given the chance, you could absolutely sense that she was going to obliterate you when it was her turn to wear the strap.

Hanayama:

Dead stare, plain eye contact, he's going to stare at you until you ask again, and then he'll zone back in. One of the few times you'll ever see him blush. He goes bright red, from the tips of his ears all the way down to his chest. He's not going to answer for a hot minute though.

He doesn't have anything, and he didn't ever think he'd need anything. He's got no idea about any of this and he's completely lost. Never even crossed his mind that you'd want to peg him. Honestly he's too flustered to tell you what he wants, so he'll just let you pick something out.

Despite how big and tough he is, he knows that he's a beginner, so he'll ask for something smaller and softer than you might think, but he's aware that there's no shame in that.

You're going to have to walk him through the steps of prep, because while he knows about foreplay, he just doesn't compute that he also needs foreplay. If you make him do it himself then he'll be prepped enough to immediately take you, but he'd prefer to be thoroughly prepped with your help for the experience.

Yeah he's not capable of using words right now, but he'll make it very clear if he needs to stop. He'd probably prefer being face down for this so you won't see how red he gets (you'll still see it, the entire back of his neck and his shoulders are bright red), so he's definitely established that if he taps out then he's tapping out.

Whiny and jumpy. Anything new gets a whine and a jolt, lots of lube will be needed and a lot of reassurance. Rubbing circles into his lower back will help. Yes he's still tough, and please tell him that. Also if you ever breathe a word of this to his boys he'll break up with you on the spot. Would he do it again? Not likely, but he might occasionally be convinced.

It was incredibly unusual for you to be in this position. Normally it would be him behind you, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips and rubbing circles against your lower back waiting for you to loosen up and relax enough for him to take you. But now you took up that role, rubbing circles into his lower back and kissing between his shoulders as you bent over him, a grunt escaping him as the strap sank in slightly further. You'd been at this for a while now, just trying to get him to relax so you could show him how good this felt, but Hanayama wasn't one to relax so easily in such a vulnerable position. If one of his men walked in to find him like this he'd never be respected in the organization again, he could hurt you, you could hurt yourself, this was a bad idea-

His thoughts fled from his brain as you growled in frustration and grabbed him by his throat, pulling his head back so you could press a harsh kiss to his lips from behind him, your hips pressing forward in a firm motion that had his entire body jolting, an uncharacteristically pathetic noise escaping his lips as you bottomed out the strap, feeling the heat of his skin under your fingers as he fought to pull his head back and push it into the pillows again, but you saw the blush turning his cheeks a cherry red, saw the sweat beading at his brow, felt his shivering, heard his soft whines, felt him trying to subtly grind against the sheets beneath him. For such a big strong man, he sure was easy to get close to the edge, especially if you weren't gentle with him like he'd expected you to be. His face was shoved into the pillows once more as your hips rolled against his, pushing deep as your hips rocked against his.

A long, deep whine escaping him, heat radiating off of his shoulders and back as you held him in place, hips rolling so slowly and lightly against his you were shocked that he wasn't more determined to get you actually thrusting instead of grinding, but he seemed perfectly content to let you grind into him and hold him down like he was little more than a plaything. "Fuck- Baby please keep going, 'm gonna cum-!" He hiccoughed in a weak, wavering voice that you'd never heard form him before. This was an entirely new side of him, and honestly, you were starting to like the shy, tiny side of him that desperately clawed at the blankets and pillows, hips grinding against yours, seemingly confused between wanting to grind against you or against the bed. Simply reaching around to grab his shaft seemed to tip him over the edge, a loud wail escaping his lips as he spilled over your fingers. This was certainly going to be interesting.

Chiharu:

He's down! Matter of fact, if you two ever wind up talking about pegging he'll most likely approach you and ask you to peg him at least once for the experience. He's not ashamed of it, he thinks it's a really intimate thing to do.

He doesn't actually have anything and unless you tell him not to, he's going to just suggest using one of your personal toys. He doesn't know that it's not safe to use an anal toy for vaginal, and vice versa, especially if it's been used in the past. You're going to have to help him pick something out for himself.

Much like Baki, he insists on a larger toy because he can totally take it. And he probably could, don't get me wrong, baby boy is tough, but for a starter? Larger, sure, but not the size of his forearm, which is definitely what he'll try and pick.

Once he agrees, he'll do some of his own research. He does a sloppy job on his own, but it's good enough. That being said, the only way to ensure that he's 100% ready and going to have a pain free experience is to just help him.

One of the few times you'll hear him shut up for once. He's not making any noises, he's just letting you do your thing to start out. Once you're in and he's done adjusting to the toy though it's free game. He's going to make noises. Very loud ones.

Needy as all hell and loud. Swears at least twice as much because those are really the only words he's capable of right now. He'll apologize for it later if you bring it up, but in the moment he's not thinking about anything other than how good he feels and how pretty you look fucking his brains out. Would he do it again? Absolutely! Anything for his baby, and he doesn't mind being freaky.

Chiharu liked to put shows on for you, he'd made that clear over the course of the time you two had been involved, but this was another one entirely. His hands were braced on the headboard behind your head as his hips rolled against your own, grinding down hard against your hips, sweat giving his skin a soft sheen, his hair was messy and sticking to his forehead, his head thrown back in ecstasy as his cock left a drooling trail of precum all over your stomach, your hands resting on his hips as he moved. If you could have the sight before you painted and framed on your wall, you'd need a bigger wall because he deserved to be the biggest, most impressive piece in your home, displayed in the most immaculate lighting, but only for your eyes. No, nobody else deserved to see the gangster like this, whining and moaning as he bounced on your strap.

He was good, fucking himself the way he found he liked, and you were there, allowed to watch, participate. You were sure that if you had an actual cock it would be so hard it would cause him pain, and that his insides would be whiter than freshly fallen snow. Reaching up, your hands followed the curve of his spine as he desperately rode you, groaning, lost in his own pleasure to meet the back of his neck, his hair slicked to the nape. Your teased the blonde strands lightly before your fingers tangled in his hair and sharply pulled his head back as you sat up, sinking your teeth into the meat of his neck. He let out a borderline feral yowl, jolting against you as you marked his throat, his hips not ceasing their desperate movement against yours. He was too close to stop now, and you were sure that if you made him stop he'd actually start crying.

Granted, he would cry anyways, you could tell. From the moment you two first hooked up you realized that if he came hard enough, he would cry, simple as that. He'd get so overwhelmed by the pleasure that he'd outright sob as a way to sing your praises, and you were almost dead certain that this was going to be what proved you right. His head pulled back, back forced to arch as his chest was bared for you to bite and kiss and suck hickeys into, his hips desperately rocking against yours, his cock trapped between the both of you, still steadily leaking. "Gahh- Baby- Sugar, please, please just touch me, I need you so bad you're so good to me, so good so good so good, please!" He whined, rolling his hips upwards against yours so he could grind against your stomach, a glassy look to his eyes. Oh yeah, he'd be cumming hard enough to cry, that was a guarantee.

Katsumi:

He accepts as cockily as possible. He's got a bubble butt, he knows it, and he's well aware that some people want him because of said bubble butt. That being said, he's never bottomed a day in his life before this, this is all just bravado for the sake of being macho.

He's got nothing. He doesn't know what to get, and instead of just being normal about it he'll go to the weirdest sex toy site possible and send you the most outlandish ones at the most inconvenient times like "hey bb can't wait for you to fuck my ass with this" and it's just a pinecone shaped dildo.

He does pick out some beginner friendly ones. In the end, he choses something simple and straightforward, just a regular anal toy will do for him because he doesn't need anything too textured. Not yet, at least.

He's done research about the toys, and with that has come research about proper prep. He'll surprise you on the agreed upon Ass Fucking Day, face down, ass up, lubed up and ready to go. He probably got himself a toy for prep, so it's not outside the realm of possibility that he'll have a heart-shaped plug in just to sell it.

He's whining, clawing at the sheets and trying to hold your hand, and that's just because you're kneeling behind him, ready to start. He's a drama queen, but he's just that excited for you. Of course, once you actually start going he's no better, but he trusts you not to hurt him.

He's vocal normally, but that's mostly just him trying to tell you how good you're making him feel without actually saying it. This is genuine. He's moaning like a porn star and shaking so hard you'd think he's got a vibrator for a spine. Would he do it again? Sure! It's something he'd likely really enjoy!

He rambled when he was nervous. He didn't know he had that habit, you were pretty sure that Doppo and Natsue had never told him, and you certainly hadn't either, but right now was definitely a moment when you were happy for his incessant rambling about things. It made it all the more satisfying when you started pushing into him and he simply stopped, mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into his head, his words dying on his tongue where they would hopefully stay until you were done with him. He'd promised you a night of total bliss under your control. Everything you wanted tonight, you could have, he'd sworn it up and down over and over again until he was red in the face. Mostly because of the topics that had come up, but still, it was the thought that counted.

But you hadn't really shut him up. Oh no. No no, you'd simply removed his ability to use words. His usual borderline pornographic dramatic moans were gone now, replaced with entirely genuine ones, desperate to show you how good he felt, trying to convince you to keep going, not that you needed convincing. Sinking into him over and over again with a soft clap, your nails biting into the fat of his hips leaving half-moon shaped indents in his skin, watching the recoil on his ass cheek as your hips met them, pulling him back down onto the strap after he was jostled forward. He was wiggling more than he normally did, but a hand on the back of his neck soon put an end to that, with him just laying there, accepting whatever you were going to do to him eagerly and without complaint, glancing back at you with pupils blown wide and an eager smile, breathless pants escaping his lips in warm puffs of air.

Soft groans poured from his lips, his eyelids fluttering. Long, thick lashes obscuring his dark brown eyes from your view, but you were more happy to watch the cock-drunk expression develop on his face, his eyes rolling with every sticky thrust into him, the generous amount of lube you'd used amplifying the noises the both of your bodies made, determined to stick to the both of you in sticky, thin strings that were formed only to break as you pulled back to push in again. He whined, grabbing wildly at his blankets and pillows, his leg snaring around your waist to pull you closer against him, even on his side he was still able to maneuver you to where he needed you. "Honey-yyy, please be nice, baby, you're so good at this shit... Where did you learn how to do this?" He asked, though your only response was a wry smile. You wouldn't tell him, you had to keep some of your secrets after all.

Jack:

He gets this dazed look on his face and winds up just wordlessly leaving to go on a walk. You'd think it's a refusal until he gets home and quietly comes to sit next to you to ask more about it. He's as red as a tomato the entire time.

He's got nothing, but he's fine trusting you to pick something up that you want to use on him. Once he's agreed, that's it, he can take it he's tough. It's just a matter of him getting over the mental blocks of being so submissive.

He can absolutely take a larger toy as a starter, but you treating him nicely and being sweet for his first time being pegged is more appreciated than he's able to convey. Just know he appreciates it.

He'll ask questions, do some research and figure stuff out. Him learning about anal training would absolutely be something beneficial, and it's a perfect excuse to hand him a plug and try some public edging. Good luck getting that facade to crack though, he's a tough cookie.

It's almost like trying to approach a wounded wild animal as a start, getting him to lay down for you is hard, but eventually he'll settle in enough to let you start. It's pretty smooth sailing from that point, but he's pretty anxious during his first time.

VOCAL! Vocal and grabby, he needs to grab something to help ground him because he's experiencing a lot of feelings, but he doesn't want to grab you because he doesn't want to hurt you. Would he do it again? Sure, he doesn't see why not, but don't expect him to ask for it outright very often.

Dense, unyielding muscle met your fingers as they dug into his pale flesh, squeezing his hips as you shallowly rocked into him, each time your hips canted forward and sank the strap back into him he let out a tiny, pathetic moan, hands desperate to seek out a handhold so he could grab something. The last time you'd tried to properly pull back and trust into him, his legs had snared around your waist to hold you close and unmoving for a second. Not because he was in pain and needed more time to adjust, oh no, but because he was absolutely blissed out and couldn't tolerate the thought of you pulling out any more than a few centimeters, even if you were going to push back in. He was needy and whining, but this was something nobody else had ever had the chance to do. The next attempt to pull your hips back was met with more success and a low moan, his eyes half-lidded and confused as they met yours, his pupils dilated so wide you could barely see the ring of brown around the black pools.

Leaning forward as your hips pulled back further, you kissed his chest only to bite the meat of his pec as your hips snapped forward. The sound he let out was unholy, pure sin as he moaned, the muscles of his hips coiling tight as he resisted the need to buck his hips against yours, well aware that he'd likely just wind up throwing you off of him, and that's the last thing that he wanted. No, he wanted you close, he wanted you deep. His hesitation was brief, but one of his hands left the now dented metal headboard of his bed to grab the back of your head and bring your lips to his, licking at your lips before he pressed his forehead against yours, your small thrusts sending sparks of pleasure racing through him, enough to confuse his brain and stun him into only being able to hold his forehead against yours and moan, desperate, feverish and needy for you, only for you.

With him now surrendered and pliant, you could properly fuck him, letting him keep your head, your hips were what you needed for this anyways, your hips drawing back before snapping forward as hard as physically possible, and he choked, body arching up against yours, his other hand grabbing a fistful of the sheets, which tore under the force. So much for these ones, but they were a necessary casualty. Your hips slammed against his, the harness biting into your skin ever so slightly, but it was so, so worth it to watch him writhing and squirming beneath you, head falling back against the pillows, jaw dropped open as he moaned nearly non-stop, voice gone hoarse from all the use it was getting. When words did return to him, it was so he could pull your forehead back against his to let out a demand. "Fuck me harder baby, I need to feel your strap all the way up in my throat." He growled, a dangerous spark igniting in his eyes. Turns out his filthy mouth worked just fine. That was something you needed to fix.

Kosho:

Haha! You're joking right? Right? Once he knows you're serious, he's not laughing anymore (beyond nervous laughter) because the thought is kinda intimidating. Just a little bit. He's going to need to think on it for a bit, but he'll likely give in at some point because now that you brought it up, it's on his mind.

He wants to be involved, but he also doesn't. So he'll likely leave most of it in your hands, but will want to give his input for the toy you use on him. He'll practically pass out if he sees anything over 6" on the list, even if the size is adjustable when you order.

He definitely will want a smaller softer toy, but he's not opposed to something that's 6". That's his cap though. 7" is too intimidating, and he doubts he'd ever be able to take a 10" or 12" toy.

If you leave it up to him, he'll be too embarrassed to do research so he'll just slap some lube on, so it's definitely going to be a process of you two trying some stuff out to get him familiar with anal play in general before you get to pegging.

He's probably going to cry ngl. He's so pent up that he can't really relax properly, so lots of lube is needed. Once you're all the way in though, that's when he starts shaking and shivering, making all sorts of little noises. Give him a minute, because while this feels good he hyped himself up too much.

Once you're into it, he's the most dramatic you'll ever see him. He's grabbing his hair, grabbing onto everything, seemingly can't get comfortable. Having him on his side will help with that a little, but he's fine on his front or his back. Would he try it again? He'll never admit it, but yeah, he probably would once he realizes that it feels kinda good.

He looked like he was going to cry. That was really the first thing on your mind as you straddled his hips, your legs spreading his thighs apart, a generous coating of lube already applied, but you were sure that he would ask you for some more, so you drizzled some more on again, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades, watching his expression in the mirror. He was already prepped as thoroughly as you could, he'd already cum twice during the process of him getting ready, and he knew he could tell you to stop and you would, but there were still nerves. Another kiss was pressed into the space between his shoulder blades, your eyes meeting his again in the mirror, and he simply nodded, hugging the pillow closer to his face before you actually started pressing in. You could almost swear that you physically saw the thoughts leave his head, his eyes rolling back as his brows relaxed slightly, his arms tightening around the pillow.

You would honestly be more surprised that it took so little to get his brain melting, really. Your hips bumped gently against his, and one of his hands flashed back frantically to grab the flesh of your ass, holding you in place for just a moment before he gave you a cheeky little squeeze and let you go, hand returning to the death grip he had on the pillow, and you honestly couldn't help but roll your eyes. You'd told him it really wasn't that bad and that he should relax and enjoy it, but he'd gotten up in his own head again and had stressed so much he'd almost undone all of your combined hard work. A hand on the center of his lower back was more than enough to keep him in place as you shallowly thrusted against him, tiny whimpers escaping him, his shoulders visibly relaxing as you worked on him.

You didn't want to say anything and ruin his relaxed state, as a matter of fact, you wanted to see if you could break his pretty composed facade, get him crying and begging for you to just please fuck him, even if you were already going to do so. Your fingers sought out his hair as a better handhold, determined to get him to stop muffling himself with the pillow somehow, though your success came quicker than you thought it would as he willingly let you pull his head back, a long, high moan escaping him. "Hnnnng~! Harder baby, please, I need harder, I can take it, promise!" He whined, leaving you stunned dumb, your hips merely continuing to fuck into him as he whined and mewled for more, for harder, faster, deeper. Oh you were definitely going to do this again. Maybe next time he'd let you record him for the next time he decided to go on an adventure for training purposes, that way you wouldn't get lonely.

Kureha:

He's probably bottomed before ngl, so you wanting to peg him isn't as much of a shock. The most likely out of the group to not be surprised. He knows what he likes and he knows his body, so most likely he'll just wind up teasing you as he pulls up sex toy site so you can both pick out a strap.

Oh he's involved alright. He's buying his own toy, telling you all the stuff he likes. He's the kind to show you how he likes to be fucked, so expect for him to drag you onto his lap to ride him while he's riding the toy.

He's a size queen, there's no doubt about that. Unlike the others that insist on a bigger size out of over-confidence, he knows that he likes bigger and that he can take it. He's not going to let you use some monster toy on him though, he's got work to do.

He knows what to do, he's had to stick things in places before. He's got lube and toys, also fingers. He's perfectly prepped and ready for you, and he likely won't let you help, but he'll let you watch.

Business as usual for him honestly. Maybe a bit of grunting and panting when you're first pushing in, but beyond that he's perfectly fine just laying there and letting you do whatever you want to him.

Once you two actually get going though, that's when he's making unholy noises and doing the most sinful things with his hips possible. If he wasn't a doctor, he'd probably have a successful porn career, because he knows just how to get others going. Would he do it again? Sure! How does next Friday sound? He could use it after a long shift when he has the weekend off.

He was almost bored as he laid there, cheek propped up on one hand, but you knew better as he let out a soft moan, followed by a hum, his heels digging into the meat of your ass to bring you closer, deeper against him. He'd come home complaining about how long of a day he'd had, how tired he was of dealing with people and how he was sick and tired of the hospital director getting involved in his business at every possible opportunity, signing him up for activities he didn't have the time or energy for. His complaints had stopped when he saw the familiar strap you were wearing, laying completely naked in bed, rose petals scattered around. He was perfectly happy to let you do as you pleased right now, because his head hurt and his brain didn't have the capacity to be making decisions right at this very moment.

A moan sliced through the air, accompanied by a jolt, and his head dropped forward sharply, his fingers threading through his hair, desperate to find something to grab onto. You'd hit the right spot, and you could see the almost instant relaxation spreading through his body, a low hum escaping him as he rested his head on his arms, relaxing further into the mattress beneath him as you worked above him, though the hum was enough to show his acknowledgement, he very happily showed you just how much he was enjoying himself thanks to your treatment. Loud moans rang through the air as you fucked him on your strap, alternating between powerful vicious thrusts and slow, deep grinds that had him arching his back in pleasure, though if he needed more he let you know without hesitation, digging his heels into the meat of your ass, his legs spread and hooking around your sides.

His hair was off-limits, he'd made that perfectly clear, but it was starting to get in the way. Reaching up, you gathered the rich red locks around your hand, twisting them quickly into the loosest semblance of a braid, just enough to keep it held together, and set it off to the side so you could grab his shoulders and use them as leverage to properly rail into him, though he seemed just as pleased to have your hands on him, arching into your touch with a moan as you squeezed the tense muscles. "You really do know just what to do to help me relax after a long day, don't you darling?" He asked, the bite of sarcasm in his tone, though you saw through that to see the genuinely pleased look in his eyes. He could be as sassy as he wanted, you still knew that he was genuinely appreciative of your efforts.

Retsu:

Forget going red, the man straight up explodes. The smoke is clearly coming from his ears, you can see the error code displaying clearly across his bright red forehead, there's this almost vacant look in his eyes. He won't look at you while he accepts, he can't handle knowing that you want him in that way.

He's got no idea what the hell he's doing :D None whatsoever. He's willing to let you peg him right then and there, but he doesn't have anything that you'd need to actually do so, so getting something is a requirement.

He underestimates what he can take by a lot. He sees a 6" toy and insists that that's far too big and clearly not for a beginner, but he could honestly take an 8" toy just fine on his first try. He doesn't know that though, and you probably won't either.

He's going to do research, and you're going to know when he does it because he'll be incredibly flustered as he approaches you to try something out that he learned. Prep with him won't take too long, he knows how to relax himself, but get him off once or twice before you actually have him just to help.

Gasping, moaning, shaking and grabbing at the nearest thing to him. He wants you to take him in missionary if possible, he wants to look at your pretty face, he needs to see that he's doing a good job. He's going to need a minute once you're actually in to regulate his breathing and take a lil sip of water.

Actually fucking him with the strap is the closest thing you'll get to experiencing divinity. He's so pretty, perfect and pliant beneath you, letting you take what you want from him with a plea and a whine. Would he do it again? He'll rarely ask, but he's open to doing it again, especially since it felt so good the first time.

You honestly had no clue that Retsu could ever possibly get this red. His face was flushed almost crimson as you pinned him against his precious kitchen counter, his braid wrapped around your hand as you pulled his head back slightly to kiss him with each impact of your hips against his, your chest pressed against his back, the strap sinking into him over and over again, his cock jumping against his stomach, raspy gasps escaping his lips, soft, pliant and sweet. He was perfect, so so perfect. If this was what killed you, you could die happy. Your hand met his shaft, jerking him off gently as you fucked into him, kissing and nipping at his shoulders as you took him, keening whines leaving you practically feral, demanding more as your teeth sank into his shoulder, though you only got yowls of pleasure in response.

That was fine, that was perfect. Your nails digging into his hips, he ground back against you eagerly, sweat beading delicately at his brow as he throbbed in your palm, his pulse racing beneath your lips. The morning light through the blinds kissed his skin, highlighting each delicate intricacy of his body, the dip of his abs, the rolling veins of his forearms as he clung to the counter, all of the colours hidden in his eyes, which looked like molten chocolate to you as he looked back at you pleadingly, apparently needing something more than what he was getting at the moment. Whatever it was, you would give it to him. Did he want the sun itself extinguished? You could do that, you were sure of it as you bent him further over the counter, still holding his braid, his long silky hair so soft beneath your fingertips that you almost thought you were dreaming being able to touch it.

Your hand moved faster in tandem with your hips, his bulk submitting to your every touch and whim with only a pleased noise that made pleasure sling through your entire body and straight to your clit. You were so close already, just from fucking him on your strap. "Please- Please, love, please- so good- I love you-! Don't stop-! So good-!" He babbled, and only then did you realize that you'd fucked him dumb, one of his hands grabbing your hip, his dull nails biting into your hip as he desperately sought to bring you closer, deeper, so desperate to feel you against him as he came. You couldn't care less that he came all over the front of the cabinets, that could be cleaned later after you both stopped being horny and sweaty. Right now, your priority was the literal masterpiece that was currently trembling through his orgasm against you.

Doppo & Natsue:

You think Natsue hasn't pegged Doppo before? You fool, you absolute buffoon. She absolutely has, and you asking to peg him will reveal the most wicked grin you'll ever see on her face. Meanwhile Doppo is quietly choking on his water in the corner, because that certainly came out of nowhere. Not that he's complaining.

He's done this before, he knows what he wants, likes and needs. If you need a demonstration, Natsue is more than happy and willing to show you. Given the chance to be on top, she's vicious and Doppo loves it. They've already got something, but if you want to pick out something just for you and Doppo then they're both open to it.

He sees this as the perfect chance to try a new toy that he hasn't tried before, so he'll very casually look through a wide selection with you and Natsue, providing colourful commentary.

He's got the drill down by now, don't worry. He'll get himself nice and ready. If it's something you want, Natsue will help him with a smaller toy so you've got less work to do. Otherwise, she'll happily either step aside or occupy Doppo's mouth.

He's vocal, but he's not saying much of anything beyond telling you how good you look and how good you're making him feel. He's honestly thanking you by the time you're all the way in, and he's thanking Natsue too. He's thankful and he wants you both to know that.

Oh he's completely gone once you get going. No more words, nothing, he's just moaning and grabbing at things. If Natsue's riding him, he's holding onto her hips like they're a lifeline. If not, he's trying to hold your hand and hers at the same time. It's okay, he has big hands, it'll work out. Would he do it again? Oh hell yes! It's a guilty pleasure of his, and it's always nice to be taken care of in bed.

If Doppo could talk right now, you were fairly certain that he'd either be telling you and Natsue how beautiful you both were, or babbling about how good you were both making him feel and how he was so grateful for the attention and the opportunity. But he couldn't actually talk right now.. Well, he could, but that would require an amount of brainpower you were pretty sure you and Natsue had pounded out of him already. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, his hoarse moans filling the air, a delightful harmony with both Natsue's and your own, his big meaty hands frantically grabbing and holding Natsue's waist, her shoulders, your thighs, the blankets. Anything he could reach as she rode him hard while you pounded into him behind her. Your forehead pressed against her shoulders, urging her to lean forward a bit, but she resisted, pressing back against you, actually turning to kiss you hungrily, her fingers slipping between her legs to rub her clit while she ground deep against Doppo.

He was in his own little world, watching the both of you through one half-lidded eye, though his eyepatch was abandoned somewhere on the dresser. It was like he was watching two divine beings, his body wasn't even his own, it was theirs and theirs alone. He was perfectly happy being able to just watch and touch, his hand settling on Natsue's shoulder to rub soothingly so she wouldn't get a cramp from turning so far. Her hands snared around his wrists as she leaned forward sharply, pinning his arms above his head as she kissed him, leaving you to properly rut into him behind her. She held his arms down with one hand, the other holding his jaw as she looked back at you and smiled breathlessly, both of their eyes on you as you let yourself be a bit rougher. He was big and strong, he could take the rougher pace, and he did, with much gusto, his moans increasing in volume and frequency. He was close already.

Natsue hummed as she kissed him, letting him hug her close and guide her hips up and down along his shaft, hold her face tenderly, reach to gently caress your cheek as you brought pleasure to him, pleasure so good it made his mind go foggy. "I think we broke him. Did we break you, my beloved superman?" Natsue asked, and Doppo moaned, tilting her chin towards him so he could kiss her. "My loves, my beautiful, beautiful loves... So pretty, so sweet- hgk! So good to me-!" He babbled, voice hitching, and she chuckled, still playing with her clit, though she looked back at you with a slight smirk as your hand settled on her lower back. At this rate, you were certain you were going to permanently melt Doppo's brain, and while he certainly wouldn't mind, you did actually kind of like his clever quips and sage advice. Kissing Natsue's shoulder, rolled her hips just how she'd showed you not that long ago, and he screamed, hands hitting the floor as he scratched at the floorboards, desperate to cling to something as you sought to bully his prostate. He was going to cum, you wouldn't allow anything less.

Shibukawa:

Oh he's going to bully you for that. You want to peg him? Surely you're joking. But that's just to cover up the fact that he's so flustered by the mere idea that you want him that way. He knows some people do it, but he never thought that you'd want to do it with him. It's not a definite no, but it's a "not right now, let me think"

If he does decide to go through with it, then he's got... Nothing. Sorry. You're going to have to help him pick something out, but that's just so obscene in his eyes that he can't help himself and he has to step away. He's trusting you on this. This is your chance to prank tf out of him. Get something for yourself instead of the small toy he asked you for. Go on, you know you want to.

He gets to about the first page of anal toys and then promptly has to walk away because why are there so many different kinds?!? Why is that one longer than his whole arm?! He's concerned, but he's got a vague idea of what he wants in his mind.

You're going to have to help him with prep, but only because he's too stubborn to do it all by himself. If he's going to do this for you, you'd better help him! And bring lots of lube, because he's got sensitive skin and he knows it.

He's all cocky and confident until you start pushing in, and then he's flailing, moaning, trying to pull you in closer and push you away at the same time. The most dramatic bottom in existence. The cool, calm and cocky attitude returns once you're all the way in and he's adjusted to the size. He just needs his lil freak-out to see if he can rattle you.

He's so bitchy when you're going at it. It's entirely his fault that he chose such a small toy, he knows it, but still, you'd better put that thing to work because once he has a chance to get comfortable he's going to need a bit more than just shallow thrusts. Would he do it again? Sure, why not? He doesn't see the harm in it! Especially if he gets the chance to mess with you again.

His act didn't fool you. You'd learned better a while ago, the frail old man act was just that: an act. He was probably sturdier than you were if you were being entirely honest. It just meant that he wanted something from you though, and it was his way of asking you to give it to him without actually asking you. Your hips slowed against his as you slotted your lips against his, earning a deep groan, his eyes fluttering. But he didn't feel the need to tell you what it is he wanted, apparently having gotten it. He wanted slow, apparently. Wanted you to go slow and stay close where he could hug you and stare into your eyes, a pleased look on his face as he pecked your cheek, your hips pressing against his perfectly. He'd demanded so much lube that you were certain your skin was going to be smooth and hydrated for the next month or so.

Pulling him further down the futon with you, you used it as a chance to get rougher with him for just a second, slamming into him and biting his collarbone. A yowl escaped his lips, and he playfully swatted your rear, though there was nothing behind it, though you weren't quite done with your mischief. Rearing back to your full height, you grabbed his chest like he often did to you when he was on top, tweaking his nipples only to pull out almost entirely, leaving the tip of your strap inside of him. You'd never heard a more desperate noise from the Aiki master in the entire time you'd known him, but you had heard similar sounds from yourself when he'd insisted on teasing you when you were oh so close to cumming. Leaning over him, you pressed his pecs together and practically purred, fucking him on the tip of your strap. It was still stimulation, but you knew it wouldn't be enough for him. You caught the glint in his eye moments before he went to move, but you were quicker, your hips stopping entirely as his legs wrapped around your waist, earning a gasp.

He glared up at you, flustered and flushed, desperate and so, so close. You smirked down at him, full of such smug energy that he had to be proud even through the frustration. A breathless chuckle escaped him as he laid back, grabbing your wrists. "Very funny dear, message received loud and clear. Now would you kindly finish me off?" He asked, and you pretended to contemplate it for just a moment, catching the slight concern in his expression before you smirked wickedly and slammed back into him, earning a yowl as he thrashed beneath you, gasping and grabbing at your shoulders, desperate to bring you close and hold you. Now you could understand why he liked teasing you so much, it really was fun to make your partner quiver beneath you.

#baki the grappler #baki son of ogre #grappler baki #baki dou #baki rahen #baki headcanons #baki hanma #kozue matsumoto #hanayama kaoru #chiharu shiba #katsumi orochi #jack hanma #kosho shinogi #kureha shinogi #retsu kaioh #doppo orochi #natsue orochi #shibukawa gouki

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castielstwigandberries · 1 year ago

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if the supernatural movie doesnt include a reference to

nevada and georgia turning blue, stop the count, destiel making putin resign, sherlock season 5 rumors, destiel news meme, which political person had to be briefed on what destiel is now?, jensen looks like he was holding back homophobic slurs, weird cuts in the confession scene, which way was dean thrown now?, bury your gays speedrun, gay angels get send to superhell/eeby-deeby/cas plinko, recognizing the confession scene only by the first letters of each word, 'homosexual declaration of love', The Tapes™ (Release them now jensen!!!), meta analysis after 15x18, 'i gripped you tight and raised you from perdition' callback as dean saves cas from the empty, why lamp?, onion field, pizza man montage, parallels be paralleling, dean screaming cas name so loud in one take that people heard it blocks away, dean offering to kill sam if it means chuck brings cas back, the 4 year old son of lucifer becoming god, chuck won theory, 'we explore the nature of destiel in act two', excitement for a long finale which could only be about dean saving cas, right?, the insanity inducing quotes of the day for episodes, 'the night we met' and 'angel with a shotgun' songs of the day on set, filming in a barn, worst finale ever (even worse than game of thrones), weirly short with 11 scenes cut, two thirds montages, carry on wayward son playinf twice, back to back, one a weird cover version, vampmimes, no cas in the finale but instead some random vampire from season one no one remembers, dean finally gets nailed from behind, dean dies from tetanus, party city wig, good cars go to heaven, Car/Cas and Biden/Bi!Dean/Bye!Dean, 'cas helped', blurry wife, misha and jensen are not in the thank you video, everyone was supposed to be at the roadhouse originally but no one was informed of those plans, walker backdoor pilot, covid/capitalism destroyed everything, misha was in vancouver for filming the last episodes and was in less episodes than he was contracted for, misha denies ever having been in vancouver, misha says originally he was supposed to be in the finale as jimmy, misha says cas was supposed to be in the finale and 'sidle up to dean in the roadhouse', heterosexual destiel whose kisses would have created entire universes, destiel reciprocated in spanish, rogue translator, #TheySilencedYou, Jensen Ackles sexy silence, jensen ackles longcon, deanbenny breakup in season 8 script leak, Heller Obama, fake italian dub, misha collins x bill clinton sex scandal, misha addressing the "scandal" and tagging bill clinton and monica lewinski, 'still beautiful, still dean winchester', mishapocalypse 2.0 and 3.0, 'eyes like the sky' beer from jensens brewery rumored to be misha description, cockles anniversay photo, chaos machine jensen ackles' production company, 'rainbow road' beer close to deans birthday, blue green ('destiel') shotglasses from jensen brewery, ash and ellen's actors roleplaying roadhouse reopening in twitter, people think they are planning destiel wedding, disappointment when thats not the case, fans celebrate Destiel Wedding anyway on Valentine's Day 2021, fallout with both actors after one said a 'queer interpretation would damage the integrity of the show',

*takes a deep breath*

jared calling cas junkless and comparing his love for dean to the love he has for his children, misha collins cameo including 'still beautiful, still dean winchester', saileen and midam wedding, spn prequel announcement and subsequent j2 fallout, '@/robbiethompson et tu brute wow. what a trully awful thing you've done #bravo you coward', the prequel being about the least favourite characters of supernatural and a love story disproved by canon, 100000 destiel fics on ao3, misha tweets about that, rumors if mishas secret ao3 account, real italian dub going 'you're kinda okay' instead of i love you, misha tweeting a video of him saying 'te amo' in response to that', jensen saying if there'd been more time he (he meant dean but he used first person pronouns) would have hugged cas and said 'i love you too', first anniversary, misha collins coming out as bisexual on accident and then saying he 'happens to be straight' three days later in a five post apology thread, hot sauce from adam/micheal actor advertised by him playing midam, casbaiting in the winchesters trailer, jarlos shipping by winchester main actors, dean with beard and turtleneck, jensen saying he wanted misha in the winchesters but it didnt work out because of scheduling conflicts but hed be there in a season two shortly before the show was cancelled, death of the rogue translator and destiel getting dragged to the trending page every time there is news

*panting* then i dont want it.

yes this is all i could remember without looking it up

#supernatural #spn #destiel #nov 5th #my post

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ari-skycotl · 6 months ago

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Hello, beauiful Sky COTL Community!!

Over the past couple of months myself and my beauiful friend @ebi-skycotlbi have been working on a passion project involving a story that takes place in the seven realms of the Sky community. The story is turning out beautifully and we wanted to reach out to see if this is something that peaks our communities interest!

I give the summary :)

Feyra leaned forward his face was tense and serious, illuminated by the soft glow of the fire as he asked, “Why are you trying to find the Forest Elder?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Ari snapped. Her sharp golden eyes narrowed.

“Sometimes things that don’t want to be found will do what they can to not be.”

“If that was the case I would call her a coward,” Ari bared her teeth. “All of the Elders are.”

Feyra jumped up, his ears pinned back in anger, “You have no idea of what you speak of, Golden One.” He seethed.

Ari jumped up but swayed slightly as she did, “I have a hard time understanding that the Forest Elder would just leave her realm to die!”

Being alone is all Ari has ever known. She has spent seasons of her life pouring her love into the Forest Realm, doing her best to stall the darkness that is spreading through her realm while trying to desperately find her Elder. When the weight of the situation burdens her, she is forced to learn to lean on others to help protect what she has always known.

Feyra closely guards a secret that could threaten his life and others around him. He has spent seasons of his life blending in and building his life in Avairy as a merchant. While he tries to forget the past, he guards his heart and his loved ones from the truth. Soon his peace is shattered when Ari falls into his life and the shining truth of the danger that threatens their home shows itself.

In the aftermath of the Shattering, the skykids of the realms were forced to give their winged light as the darkness spread throughout the lands consuming everything in its path. In a desperate miracle, the collected winged light of the faded skykids awoke the Elders of the realms. With that power, the Elders sealed the great city of Eden to stop the rest of the darkness from leaking into their world. Remnants of the darkness remained in the realms even as life was given back to the skykids.

They were left to rebuild their homes and of what was left of their realms. Mourning the loss of their homes and their friends, seasons past and the skykids learned to make homes and communities of what was left for them.

The darkness that remained and lingered soon began to spread after many spread. Disrupting the small peace that had settled over the realms. Others start to take notice as the shards of a great evil spread and threaten to consume their world once again and more concerning the silence of the Elders that had sealed themselves off from their people.

In a story about found family, love, sacrifice, loss, and holding on to the ones you love when all seems lost. Ari and Feyra must learn the truth behind the sinister evil that threatens to take their home and their loved ones. Before it is too late.

“If action is not taken. There will be no home to return to.”

Let us know in the comments below your thoughts and if you would be so kind as to reblog we would greatly appreciate it!

Thank you lovelies!!

#artists on tumblr #sky children of the light #drawing #digital art #digital illustration #sky #sky cotl #friends #oc art #skykid #Sky community #shattered peace #writing #story #romance #comedy #found family #fanfic #angst

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mrsalwayswrite · 10 months ago

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To Call Forth Love - Chapter 18

Here it is, friends! The promised update! A massive thank you to everyone who replied to my prior post. You guys are truly the best and y'all give me the desire to finish this story.

I'll confess, this chapter is short (by my standards). I also feel like its not up to my usual quality of writing, so please give me some grace as I step back into the world of writing and remembering how to use words.

Lastly, if I missed anyone who wants to be added to the new tag list, please let me know!

Words: 3900

Warnings: Violence (both graphic and implied), swearing, Ivar still struggles with feelings

Series Masterlist

The day of reckoning had come.

A red sun rose that morning. The locals glanced nervously at the sky and muttered under their breath at the strange sight. But Ivar knew what it meant. A blessing on this day from the old gods.

Everything had fallen into place far more easily than he anticipated, a blessing indeed. The manipulation, the lies shared to convince the traitors to meet with him, feigned ignorance to soothe any worry of their deceptive being known. It all dripped from his lips like poisoned honey, until it was too late. Until the door was shut and a gun was pointed at their heads. Then he dropped the façade and allowed his guile to show. Only then were the traitors introduced to the truth of their failed scheme….and become close acquaintances with his knives.

It was a day for justice.

A day for vengeance.

And Ivar relished every moment.

*****

Amidst the dim light leaking through the few windows into the basement, the stench of dry, stale air, piss and blood permeated.

Two men knelt on the concrete ground before their executioner. Naked, with their clothing scattered beneath them, cut from their bodies with artful precision. Arms outstretched as in the worship, yet thick rope bound them to this position. Not as devout petitioners, but as those in bondage without even a god able to save them.

For Armageddon had arrived, led by a blue-eyed devil with a malicious smile and blood dripping from his knives.

Studying the one still conscious, he casually wiped the traitor's blood from his knife with a clean rag, for he refused to miss a single moment of pain or despair that was to come.

The trial of judgment had not truly begun yet. This was only the first act.

A vibration from his phone drew his attention away momentarily as he checked the text. A smirk adorned his face as he replaced the phone in his pocket and returned his gaze to the one before him.

"They are here." Ivar stated, "should I wake your friend? He's been unconscious for some time now."

The traitor remained silent, his eyes staring at the gray floor, even as blood slid down his skin like raindrops. His chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm, almost as if in meditation. But Ivar knew better. The man was waiting. Biding his time. Enduring the pain until the others came.

Unfortunately for him, no amount of waiting would save him from what was to come.

Ivar glanced over to the other man on the left. Before he had even been restrained, the man had pissed himself and was begging for mercy, crying out and spewing secrets and half-truths in the futile hope for forgiveness. At the first pass of knives over his flushed skin, he fainted.

Fucking pathetic.

At Ivar's command, buckets of cold water had been tossed on the sniveling coward to awaken him. He would not get away from his prescribed torment. Not that easily. Twice the man fainted while receiving his medicine. And twice Ivar had him painfully revived. This third time, Ivar allowed him longer in his brief respite. But no longer.

The day of vengeance had arrived for those who betrayed the Lothbroks, and Ivar would see they were conscious for every moment of it.

"Wake him up."

At Ivar's command, his white-haired driver picked up the bucket at his feet and tossed it on the unconscious man.

The man sputtered and gagged, returning to the land of the living and the land of his torment. Immediately he began whimpering, as if that could save him. As if anything could save him now.

The echo of footfalls on the wooden staircase sounded in the basement.

Ivar's smile widened as he met the pained but calm eyes of the traitor kneeling before him. "Better start fucking begging for forgiveness."

Ragnar came around the corner, followed by Lagertha and Bjorn. A gasp filled the air once they came into sight. A sound of recognition. A sound of disbelief.

“Please! I'm sorry! He made me do it!” The coward began sobbing, his whole naked body shuddering at the strength of his cries and voice. “Please! I didn't–”

“Silence!” Ragnar roared, drawing close, eyeing both men. A predator inspecting the prey. His bright eyes glared at both men, focusing most of his anger on the one known to him. “You thought you could betray me?” He crouched before them, studying them, reading them. A devilish grin grew on his lips after a moment. “How'd that go?”

He chuckled darkly as he stepped to the side, already knowing the outcome but here to watch the show. With a quick glance to the side, he gave permission for another to step forward and to hear the case.

The coward continued to whimper but wisely made no move to steak. A pity really, Ivar was hoping to cut out his tongue.

"Kalf?" Lagertha asked, coming closer. The initial look of shock faded away, leaving behind confusion and anger. A deadly combination.

"Lagertha, there's been a misunder-" Kalf started to say but cried out in pain after Ivar hit him on the side of his head with his wolf's head cane.

Ivar returned the cane to his side, leaning back in his plastic chair casually. "Tsk tsk. You do not speak unless spoken to." He shifted his gaze to his father's first wife. “All the evidence is on the table over there.”

Lagertha followed the nod of Ivar's head, looking towards a table pressed against the wall. On it were stacks of papers, all the threads from the web of betrayal, cut and laid out to prove his betrayal. Every string, every conversation, every transaction, every knot in the thread. The damning evidence Ivar had been gathering for months. All there in black and white.

With a resigned sigh, Lagertha glanced down to Ivar. “I believe you.”

Ivar nodded silently, shifting the cane from his left hand to his right, still encased in the damn cast. He had never liked Lagertha and she had never liked him. They tolerated one another but that was the extent, prefering to avoid one another's company in casual or public settings. Except when it came to business. There was an unspoken respect they harbored for one another in this one regard; and for her to take Ivar's word alone on this matter, furthered his respect for her.

He did notice that Bjorn walked over and started leafing through the papers. Maybe his eldest brother was finally learning to use his half-wit brain.

The fierce businesswoman moved to stand in front of her lover, seemingly uncaring of the splatters of blood and shredded clothing under her heeled boots. “Why?”

He opened his mouth, eyes full of hurt and hope, but before any sounds escaped, she cut him off.

“Do not lie to me, Kalf.” She practically snarled, a she-wolf rising in fury, with no sight of a heartbroken lover.

He gazed at her, tone beseeching. “I did it for us.”

Her hand moved so fast that even Ivar did not catch it until the loud sound of a smack echoed in the basement, followed by Kalf's grunt as his head jerked to the side.

“If you did it for us, you would have included me in your schemes.”

Kalf worked his jaw before returning his gaze to his lover. “I planned on it, but–”

Another smack reverberated in the air.

“Try again.” Lagertha spat out.

Ivar could see it. The moment Kalf's pretense swiftly crumbled. His face hardened, eyes switching from a hopeful innocence to angry slits. His body tensed as if preparing to fight back, to finally show some spine and no longer take the abuse.

“I knew we could run the organization better. Make more money and be unstoppable. But I knew…I fucking knew you'd never leave Ragnar. You'd never leave his side because you'll always be his side bitch. So I did what I had to.” Kalf grinned but there was no humor. Blood darkened his teeth, giving him a monstrous look. “Does that make you feel better, baby? I'd have given you everything but you'll always run back to Ragnar. You never stopped loving him, you just got better at hiding it. What a fucking waste. I would have made you a queen!”

Lagertha yanked out a pistol from the holster on her thigh and aimed it at Kalf's head. Hand steady. Lips in a thin line. Eyes focused on him. A she-wolf ready for the kill.

Kalf chuckled darkly. “You won't do it, my love. You don't like getting your hands dirty.”

Ivar waited to see the outcome. Ragnar already commanded that Lagertha was to choose Kalf's fate. A fucking waste in Ivar's opinion but he relented. Hopefully he would be given the other one, an example needed to be made. Although the other man was only the accountant to scrub the books and try to hide the betrayal, not the mastermind that Kalf was, he was still involved. That was enough to earn his death. Preferably at Ivar's hands.

But Kalf's death would be decided by Lagertha.

Ragnar and Bjorn watched from the sidelines, witnesses to the impending justice against their organization and family. Holding a paper in each hand, fury coated Bjorn's face, understanding of the undermining that had been allowed to run rampant for too long, especially by one he trusted. With arms crossed and an impassive expression, Ragnar watched on. When Ivar caught his eye, he received a nod but returned his gaze to the show, waiting for his ex wife to make a decision. All the papers and what they represented were already reviewed by Ragnar as Ivar discovered the treachery.

After a long tense moment, a gun shot rang out. Almost deafening in the small basement. Yet no one flinched. The sound as familiar as birdsong for those still breathing.

Surprise and pleasure flooded through Ivar as the coward's head lolled loosely, brains blown out and splattered on the wall and floor. Payment for his crime painted for all to see.

Kalf jerked his head to look at his accomplice and then back to his lover, confusion and shock in the lines of his face.

“You shouldn't have dragged Philippe into your mess.” Lagertha calmly said, replacing her pistol at her thigh. “Ivar, he's all yours. Do with him what you want.” She took a step back. “Good bye, Kalf.” Then with the poise of a queen, she turned on her heel and headed back up the stairs, washing her hands of her former lover and his demise.

In the next moment, a hand landed on Ivar's shoulder. “Good work.” His father commended. He gave him one more fatherly pat before following Lagertha up the stairs.

Ivar grimaced as he knew his father was following his first wife to help her blow off some steam. Something that happened but no one spoke of.

A different set of footsteps came to his other side. As Ivar looked up at his eldest brother, a grimace on his own face at his parents, echoed Ivar's own sentiments. With a shake of his head, Bjorn looked down at Kalf who had gone suspiciously silent and still.

“I thought she would shoot you…guess she thought that was too fucking easy for you.”

Kalf spat out a bloody mess towards Bjorn's leather shoes, eyes blazing and fresh blood trickled down his chin.

“Have fun with that one.” Bjorn said. “And try to keep your cast clean. Fuck, you'll never get all that blood out.”

“I'll get a new fucking one. Fucking hell.”

“Fine.” Bjorn crossed his arms over his broad chest. “What are you going to do with him?”

Ivar shrugged, examining the man like a piece of marble waiting to be sculpted. “Cut off each of his own fingers and make him eat them?”

“That's disgusting.” Bjorn shuddered. “Don't take too long. We need you in Spain. We got a call on the way here.”

“What happened?”

“I'll fill you in after your fun, but it sounds like you'll be there a few days.”

“Okay.”

The eldest Lothbrok son opened his mouth for a moment, then stopped to lick his lips before starting quietly again. “Have you…have you heard from her yet?”

There was only one her that Bjorn could possibly be referring to and it made Ivar's blood boil even as his heart shattered.

“Shut the fuck up.” Ivar seethed, fingering the head of his cane, wondering how much trouble he would get in if he broke Bjorn's shins by striking him.

As if sensing the impending violence, Bjorn backed away. “Call me when you're done here.”

Ivar grunted, still beyond pissed his brother would bring her up right now.

“You know…my mom mentioned that Kalf had an almost irrational fear of fire.”

At Bjorn's lazy comment, Kalf's head lifted to stare at Ivar, face blanched and eyes wide with panic.

A truly ferocious grin appeared on the youngest Lothbrok's face at the pure terror radiating from the man before him. Even when his flesh had been pierced with Ivar's knives, beaten with Ivar's cane, the man had endured without fear. Oh, but the sweet scent of terror that radiated off him now…

Ivar barely heard Bjorn's retreating footsteps up the stairs. He turned to look at his driver, his long white hair tied back, highlighting his cruel scar on the side of his face.

“Toss me your lighter.”

Pleas for mercy tainted the air, but not for long.

*********

As he stepped out of the elevator, it took all of his mental capability to keep his feet moving purposefully and his gait steady. His eyes were gritty and dry from lack of sleep, his body threatened to revolt against his restless mind and collapse in desperate need of rest. He refused to acknowledge it, propelling himself forward. After this one last meeting, he would allow himself to give in and seek the rest his body so desperately needed.

Ignoring those scurrying around, he passed the several offices on the top floor of Ragnarssons Trading. The scowl he wore must have been fearsome for how quickly it made those plebeians scatter out of his way. Wise on their part. He was in no mood for empathy or kindness, traits he was not commonly known for anyway. He just wanted to fucking sleep. The temptation to stab anyone who tried to stop him was exceptionally high.

“You live!”

“Fuck off.” Ivar grumbled, more out of habit than true ill intent. Well, if he tried to stop him, there may be some violence.

Falling into step with him, Hvitserk looked smart in his gray suit, a clear contrast from Ivar's own rumpled jeans with t-shirt and leather jacket. “How was Spain? No, wait, you were just in Morocco. Or was it Turkey again?”

“India.”

“Hmm…What I heard, you've spent more time in dungeons and airplanes than in a bed. Those bags under your eyes make you look like a zombie. Ah hell, when did you last sleep?”

Ivar grunted, annoyed with his brother's ceaseless chatter and the reminder of his lack of self-care. “Father in his office?”

“I think so. I was about to go for a late lunch. Want me to wait for you?”

“No, I'd probably fall asleep before the food came.”

Hvitserk chuckled but did not dispute the claim.

The pair arrived at the door for Ragnar's office. With a quick knock on the wood and a following ‘enter’, Hvitserk opened the door for them.

Ragnar sat at his large desk, an organized chaos to all the things upon it. Scattered papers and files resided in piles, along with a cheap, tourist paper map of Stockholm spread out and a bronzed human skull which Ragnar refused to admit if it was real or not. Ivar had always bet it was real.

Torstein also occupied the room, standing behind the desk beside Ragnar, pointing at the laptop screen open in front of them. They must have been continuing speaking of logistics for a particular expansion of goods into Stockholm.

At their entrance, Ragnar kept his gaze on the screen while addressing him. “I thought you were coming in tomorrow?”

“I can just as easily report today.” Ivar ungraciously plopped into one of the leather chairs in front of Ragnar's desk. He winced at the impact and the sharp pain shooting down his legs. With more care, he set his right hand, still in the cast, on the arm rest.

At Ivar's audible pained inhale, Ragnar aimed his piercing gaze at his youngest son. “You look like shit.”

Ivar snorted. “The devil doesn't sleep and neither do I.”

That made Ragnar smirk and Torstein chuckle. From the other seat beside him, Ivar could feel Hvitserk's eye roll. Everyone knew that Ivar had been running himself ragged, anything to keep himself busy, which usually involved his face glued to a computer or phone screen or blood on his hands. Ever since Kalf's fall from grace and his fiery demise, Ivar had been cauterizing the wound left in the company…and reminding people what happened when they placed themselves on the Lothbrok's bad side.

“Suit yourself. Tor, finish this and I'll make a phone call–” Ragnar spoke to his friend but Ivar tuned him out.

He closed his eyes, dropping his chin to his chest as he waited. His father was not wrong. He felt like shit. Then again, he had felt like shit for the past three weeks now, ever since Kari had told him she needed space. So he focused on what he could do for the family business. Anything to distract himself from what his heart yearned for. During this time, he learned it was easier to feel physically shitty and move on. It was much harder to ignore and move on when his heart was fractured and bleeding her name.

Eyes closed, his mind began to drift lazily like an autumn leaf, thoughts moving at a sluggish pace due to his exhaustion. He had tried to sleep in his car on the way here from the airport but sleep eluded him- still too wound up from the flight, too many cigarettes and too much caffeine. The trifecta of sleep deprivation. He never slept on planes, even on private planes, he could never relax enough. Especially when they flew over open water.

A buzzing from his pocket jerked him out of his almost meditative state. Without opening his eyes, he dug around in his pocket and pulled his personal phone out. Only a few people had his private number, preferring to direct most of his calls to his work phone, which lay silent in his other pocket.

“‘eah?” He mumbled amidst a sudden yawn.

A hesitant but professional male voice spoke. “Mr Lothbrok?”

“Huh?”

“Is this–ah, is this Ivar Lothbrok?”

His brain awoke on full alert at the implementation that a stranger had his personal number. “Who the fuck are you?” Those sluggish thoughts went into overdrive, trying to recognize the voice or how this fucker got a hold of his number.

“I'm Nurse Olsen, calling from the General Hospital. A patient we have gave us your name and number as an emergency contact. My apologies for bothering you, we just needed to verify. Do you know a Kari Larsen?”

What racing thoughts died a spectacular death by crashing into a wall of shock and disbelief.

Someone was calling him about Kari.

As an emergency contact.

From a hospital.

Where she is a patient.

A PATIENT!

In a strange form of whiplash, his brain went from a screeching halt in shock to overdrive of all the reasons she could possibly be in the hospital, each scenario worse than its predecessor. “Is she hurt?” He wheezed out, as his heart and lungs threatened to be strangled with the sudden fear that exploded within him.

“Sir, I'm not allowed to discuss patients’ wellbeings over the phone–”

“IS SHE HURT?!” He screamed, the building panic in his chest rising higher and higher, suffocating him.

His mind easily conjured her laying in a hospital bed, nurses and doctors swarming her like parasites, sticking tubes in her, cleaning up her precious blood, all in an attempt to save her. She laid there unconscious to her precarious position. Or maybe she was screaming for him. That was how they got his number. She needed him as she lay dying.

He drew a ragged breath but it failed to relieve the painful pressure in his chest. Gods, if she died….he promised. He promised to take care of her.

A new level of loathing sunk its claws into him, a demon from the darkest pits burrowed into his mind, taunting, tormenting.

He had promised.

And he failed.

Again.

“Mr Lothbrok, are you able to come to the hospital?” The nurse sighed before speaking again.

“Yes.” He croaked out.

“Excellent, what you can do is park–”

But the nurse's explanation was cut off as Ivar ended the call.

Ivar stumbled to his feet, grabbing the edge of the desk to steady himself. The floor beneath him shifted and rolled like waves. Or maybe it was the demon cackling in his ears, messing with his equilibrium. Spots danced in his vision but he ignored them, pushing past. He had to get to her. He had to see her. Was his heart even beating anymore? His chest burned, each breath a struggle to take. As he tried to slip his phone back into his pocket, he realized his hands were shaking. Or was it his whole body?

What exhaustion previously had taken root was brutally ripped out and replaced with a buzzing, paralyzing panic.

“Ivar? What happened?” Hvitserk's voice broke through. His hands grabbed his younger brother's shoulders, saving him from falling in his unstable haste to move. “Ivar?!”

“I–I have to go to the hospital.” Tears welled in his eyes, that terror and panic finally having risen to his mind, strangling his rationality, constricting his thoughts until all he could think of was Kari and he failed.

“What happened? Oh shit. Is…was that about Kari?” Hvitserk's eyes widened in horror.

“She's there.” Ivar gasped, weakly pushing his brother aside, hands still shaking. ”She's there right now. I have to go– fuck, I've got to see her.”

Stumbling, forcing himself faster than his crippled legs would allow, to escape the way his chest was collapsing even as he fought for breath, fought for each step. He had to see her. There was no other option.

She had to be okay. His kitten. He refused. He fucking refused to believe she was dying, even as his mind continued to create horrific scenes.

This was not how he wanted to be reunited with her.

Hvitserk grabbed his arm, steadying his erratic pace. “I'm coming with you.”

Gratitude swelled within Ivar but the panic clogging his throat refused to let the words pass.

The two rushed into the hallway, as fast as Ivar's crippled legs would allow. Hvitserk already had his phone out, calling Ivar's driver to have his car ready at the front for them. At the pounding footfalls behind them, Ivar glanced over his shoulder to see Ragnar following like an intimidating guardian angel.

Ragnar snarked. “Hurry your ass up or I'll carry you on my back like when you were a boy.”

“You're too fragile, old man.” Ivar managed to retort.

“Shut the fuck up, you little asshole, and let's go get your girl.”

As the three of them hurried out of the building, the same thought swirled like a growing storm in his mind.

Hold on, Kari, I'm coming. Just please hold on.

Tag List:

@southernbe @tessakate @ivarlover @nothingtolosebutweight @beautifulweaselplaidsalad @noway4u @cdauni @istorkyou @ringpopdust @lotr-got

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