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#that and also ive been working on something and it froze up and undid an HOURS worth of progress and i almost broke down
calclaws · 2 months
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more breaking down dont recommend reading lol
it really drives me crazy how often people mention therapy when it was a therapist who undid all the work id done for years and sent me spiraling. And im so angry because I cant help but wonder where id have been if she just treated me better or had even a glimmer of human sympathy. I told her all this vulnerable stuff about me and she just bullied and belittled me. The only good thing she did was say "of course that would be traumatic" when I told her about my medical trauma because I was always very ashamed of it and felt crazy and my parents told me i was crazy and they were mad that I reacted so badly i got them in trouble. but then that therapist retraumatized me by repeating what the act was over and over while i just froze. but that's not why i hate her. she said lots of fucked up shit to me. i cant remember which one sent me over the edge because i felt like i ejected from my body and i just did a bunch of things to escape but i was on autopilot. i feel like i just left my body idk it was bizarre. But I do remember she tried to argue with me about whether i was bi because i hadnt had sex (when a lot of what id talked to her about was how terrified i was of being disowned for being queer) and i said something corny about believing in soulmates and she LAUGHED at me and said you cant be serious and then went into this whole thing about how her ex was a narcissist. And she also rolled her eyes at me when i said we couldnt afford therapy more than every other week. I was a student and my parents were paying $100 a session for her!!!!
Anyway im trying therapy again bc i feel at this point i have nothing to lose. but i spent 2 hours writing intake forms and i feel so degraded and i stg they better only show this to the therapist if they are asking all this personal shit. i dont even know this woman and she knows all this. Im really scared bc i feel like if she belittles my trauma im gonna hurt myself. but i really liked her profile so im hoping. but im so scared im gonna say something that will get me locked up and then i will just be retraumatized and lose my job and health insurance. they threaten to report you if you talk about hurting yourself which is so frustrating because i pay you all this money and im not allowed to talk about feelings ive had since i was 10 years old. although i dont think i had depression then i jsut wanted to kill myself bc i was bullied so much and i was a sensitive little bitch. but anyway im actually kind of hopeful haha. against my better judgment i hope it works out but those intake forms triggered me so bad. and i keep feeling like no one loves or cares about me even though thats stupid like your bestie and your partner keep checking in on you you dumbass. but my brain is just so sick and part of me knows im acting insane.
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rainecloud020604 · 3 years
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local idiot almost breaks down twice cause of ibis paint malfunctions
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pikemoreno · 4 years
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if you ever wanna be in love
Chapter IV: Plan B and Other Messes
a/n: this is my favorite so far, but it’s only gonna get better from here!
taglist is open if you’d like to be added. sorry if you asked and i missed it or forgot. please just ask again if you aren’t on there and would like to be. :’)
pairing: marcus pike x f!reader
word count: 2k
warnings: none, and i don’t expect there to really be any serious ones in upcoming chapters either. this is just fun.
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If this plan was foolproof, you were all worse than fools.
It had started fine. It had been more than a week since the disastrous failure that was Plan A, and you spent the week doing some reconnaissance to keep Wendy’s brief interaction with Adrian on the top of her mind.
On Tuesday, you had asked her again about the elevator incident, stating: “Wow, that must’ve been scary. Did you have someone with you? I don’t think I remember.” She responded that there had been and that he was “nice.” 
On Wednesday, you had asked her if she had caught the name of the “mystery man” in the elevator. Did he work in the building? What department? Was he cute? She had said that she “Didn’t catch his name or his department, but… Yeah, he was alright, I guess.” Not a lot to work from, you lamented, but it was a start. You told her you’d see what you could find out and she groaned, telling you not to get into it, that she was fine. If only she knew how late she was on that sentiment.
On Thursday, you had taken the day off from bothering her about it. After all, you couldn’t make it seem like you found out everything about him in a day. Because that would have just been absurd. 
Today-- Friday-- you spilled all of your “research” to her: name, age, department, and the information that he’d been “asking about her too”-- ignoring the fact that that was only true because Marcus had been giving him the same treatment you were giving Wendy this week. Her eyes lit up a little at hearing she’d been asked about too, and you knew you had her hook, line, and sinker.
You met Marcus outside on your lunch break to debrief and discuss the finale of Plan B, sitting on a wooden-slatted bench with him underneath the slowly changing leaves of the trees in the courtyard. While an uncharacteristically cool breeze blew by, you were starting to decide that if you could just get Wendy and Adrian to this point right here, that would be enough to bring them together. It was a quiet and secluded place, a blessed change from the chaos of work on the other side of those glass double doors in the distance. There was something undeniably romantic about it all. 
With the right person to share it with, of course.
This wasn’t a romantic exchange. It was planning, organizing, talking about another’s romance, and never your own. There was absolutely nothing inherently romantic about this, certainly nothing in the way he smiled at you from the corner of his eye as you talked about how the week had gone with Wendy. There was nothing in the way you admired the light in his eyes when he grinned and how they crinkled when he laughed and nothing in the way you wanted to make sure he laughed every single day.
Oh no. Oh no no no no. 
This whole thing was about Wendy, not you. And certainly not Marcus. 
“So, what’s the plan for this evening?” His question brought you out of your daze.
“Umm,” you cleared your throat, re-gathering yourself as you poked at your lunch with your fork. “We’re gonna text them both separately to meet us at Copper Coin for coffee. We won’t be there when they arrive. We’ll be twenty minutes late and hope that they’ve decided to sit together in that time. If they haven’t, we’ll make sure they do,” you shrugged. 
“Right,” he nodded, and you returned it. Silence overtook the moment, but not in the serene way it had previously. This was decidedly more awkward. You were back in your head, doing the mental calculations of why and how there was nothing at all romantic about your friendship with Art Squad over here. That’s all it was; that’s all he was. You vaguely heard him call your name-- your real name.
“Hm?” you blinked, looking back to him.
“Where’d you go?” he murmured quizzically, his eyes searched your face in a way that undid all of the mental calculation you just went through.
“What? Nowhere. Anyway,” you stood quickly, gathering your stuff, “See you later.” You couldn’t ignore the feeling of his curious eyes still on you as you walked away.
This was not happening.
You’d be lying if you said that lunchtime exchange wasn’t at the forefront of your mind for the rest of the work day... And as you drove to the coffee shop… And now that you were sitting across from Marcus yet again, waiting on Wendy and Adrian, who still had yet to show up after the predetermined twenty minutes you were giving them before sitting inside the mahogany-saturated, hipster’s paradise yourselves. 
Plan B was most certainly not foolproof, and the four of you were the grandest of fools. Where could they be?
“They’re gonna walk in and think we’re the ones on a date,” Marcus quipped as he took a sip of his drink. You almost spit yours out from the surprise of the comment, but couldn’t help the huff of laughter.
“Oh, if Wendy walked in and thought I was on a date with a guy like you, she would probably cry tears of joy.”
“What does that mean?” You missed the warm pink take over the skin of his neck at what he was hoping was a compliment. 
A guy like him? 
How did you see him? 
“My recent track record is not great,” you stated, running a finger around the rim of your drink, “I would go on a couple of dates with someone. Never let it go anywhere. Decline any attempt to make it exclusive. Get the hell out of there. Rinse and repeat.”
“Why do you think that is?” 
You were making him nervous. It was pretty obvious to him now that he was starting to be interested in you beyond just being a work friend helping him with a “project”. But hearing your hesitance to commit in the past made his heart sink. He knew too well the feeling of being the one more invested in the relationship, of scaring someone off by going all in. He couldn’t let himself fall into that again with you. He’d have to force himself away, push down what was threatening to blossom.
“Afraid of getting hurt, I guess. I’ve seen a lot of committed relationships around me fail. People falling out of love. I don’t want that.” You shrugged.
“That’s a very reasonable fear.”
“Exactly. So I’m just… Waiting I guess. Wendy sees it as me just having commitment issues. I don’t have commitment issues per se. I just haven’t really found anyone worth committing to yet.”
“I’m afraid I have the opposite problem.” You tilted your head, questioning, and he continued, “I haven’t found anyone worth committing to, but I don’t realize it until it’s too late.” he sighed, “I was that one teenager who had one steady girlfriend from eighth grade all the way through high school and never looked at anyone else-- probably for the best, I was kind of a dork,” he laughed despite himself and you joined. It fizzled sadly, “But anyway. Everyone thought we were gonna be together forever. And I started to think so too after, you know, five years. I had it all planned out by the time we got to senior year. We wanted to go to the same college. We’d date through college, I’d propose on our graduation day... We didn’t make it past senior prom. She had disappeared for a while, and I found her in a supply closet with another guy.” You couldn’t help but gasp a little. He continued “Then I still got married pretty young, not long out of college,” he shook his head, seemingly to clear out the emotions that reared their ugly heads for what was obviously the first time in a while. You wanted him to know he didn’t have to explain himself to you. 
“Marcus, don’t--” you tried to stop him.
“I was ‘too much’ for her.” You froze at the admission. His mouth contorted into a frown that didn’t suit him at all. “I’m still not sure I know what she meant by that,” he laughed humorlessly, “Guess I cared too much? Who knows. She divorced me, and that was that.” You both looked down to find that you’d put your hand on his. There was a part of you-- maybe more than a part, really-- that decided that what he was saying sounded nice. That he would be a blessed change from relationships that never lasted longer than a month and whose conversations never reached the level of depth that you were already experiencing with Marcus after just the couple of weeks you’d known him. You breathed, letting your hand stay resting on his as you spoke truly.
“What you said was right. Neither of them were worth your commitment. I’ve seen your commitment to someone who’s just a work friend, and I can’t imagine anyone not wanting that in their life. They couldn’t have been worth your time.” His thumb reached up to brush against the side of your hand. “I would--” You stopped yourself mid-sentence upon looking at the cafe door to find Wendy finally walking in.
If only you knew that Marcus was holding his breath waiting for the end of the statement, hoping to hear you say that he might be worth that commitment. 
“There’s Wendy now.” Your hand left his as you got up to meet her, and Marcus found himself immediately missing the contact and entirely unsure of what just happened. 
“An hour late? Where have you been?” you laughed as Wendy met your eyes excitedly. 
“You’ll never guess what just happened,” she practically squealed in response, yet not answering your question.
“Probably not. Go for it.”
“I got my rebound!” You blinked.
“You-- What?”
“So right before you left the office, I received a tip on a case from the Elisabet Ney Museum. They had some priceless jewelry of hers on display. Only supposed to be up for a week. Family heirloom. It’s on display for two days before it turns up stolen. But get this: the bust of hers it was on was also stolen. Meaning this case also falls under the jurisdiction of the Art Squad. I figured ‘Hey, the more, the merrier,’ so I hopped on down to the 6th floor to talk to them about a team-up and guess who I ran into?” Your eyes widened, finally getting the point of the story.
“Adrian.”
“Adrian!” she nearly squealed again, talking a mile a minute. “So anyway, we’re gonna be teamed up on that next week.” You subconsciously shot a glance over to Marcus. Having to work a case with him? After the day you just had? “But the crazy part is that I started talking to Adrian and he’s so great, you know, now that I’m not freaking out in an elevator. Turns out he’s a recent dumpee too, and we’re gonna go out tomorrow night. Oh, and we might’ve made out in the supply closet.” The words of that last part all ran together as she tried to play it off nonchalantly. You let your mouth hang open in the flurry of words and admissions that came far too quickly for you to process fully. 
“Wow. That’ s-- That’s great! I told you he was worth looking into,” you smiled weakly, trying to get over the newest developments in this absolutely ridiculous story. “So, this case? Starting next week?”
“Monday morning, bright and early. Hey, didn’t you say you had a friend on Art Squad? The one who gave you a ride that one day? That’ll be fun, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, for sure.” You caught Marcus’s eye, and your face must have betrayed just how exasperated and confused-- and… relieved?--  you felt because the look he shot back to you was full of concern. Everything was somehow simplified and complicated in one fell swoop. 
Plan B: Success? You guess?
forever taglist: @acomplicatedprofession @hdlynn @makaela27 @space-floozy @catfishingmorales @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @princessbatears @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @findhimfives @mistermiraclee
series taglist: @whiskeyslasso​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @dindjarindiaries​ @absurdthirst​ @roxypeanut​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @dirty-dancefl00r5  @starryeyedstories​ @buckysalefty​ @wickedfrsgrl​ @the-feckless-wonder​
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fleur-de-violette · 3 years
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Don’t trust the Bat
A3O
Summary: Jason wakes up strapped up to a cot in the cave. He only knows one thing. He can’t trust Bruce. Whumptober day one: waking up restrained.
Notes:  I so I decided to do whumptober at the end of the month, so I’ll probably end the prompts in November/December (and maybe even later). I’m also not doing them in the right order because at this point, I’m not really doing the challenge (though, the rules said it’s okay to just use the prompts, even after October, so I’m gonna do that.). Also, it’s not exactly whump? More like hurt/comfort. Anyway, enjoy the fic !    
Jason woke up screaming.
It wasn’t an unusual occurrence. Nightmares were a common thing for him, even before…before. Except this time, he didn’t calm down after a few minutes. His mind kept yelling at him to run away and he couldn’t.
Something wasn’t right.
Why couldn’t he move?
(Was the tick-tock next to him real or just in his head?)
He focused on his arms and legs. He needed to move. To get out. He had to get out before… before what? He didn’t know.
Something was restraining his limbs.
Something was restraining his limbs.
So, Jason did the only thing he could.
He started screaming again.
He stopped when he sensed a presence next to him. Maybe screaming was a bad idea. Maybe he had alerted his captor. Maybe someone wanted to hurt him. He looked up at the stranger, and for one second, his face was twisted in a horrible smile, before morphing back into someone he knew.
Bruce.  
The man spoke very slowly, remembering Jason of the Batman talking to a victim.
“Jason. You’re awake. How are you feeling?”
Jason pulled at his restrain.
“Let me out!” he yelled, ignoring the question. Bruce grimaced.
“You’ve been dosed with fear toxin. We need to be sure you won’t hurt yourself or other before undoing the restraint. Do you understand?”
He didn’t trust Bruce. He didn’t know why he was strained in the cave, but he didn’t trust Bruce. He couldn’t trust Bruce. He made the mistake once of following him, he wouldn’t make it twice.
“Let me out!” he repeated, tear on his eyes, now. He had to get away. Was Bruce finally done with him? Was he sending him back to Arkham? If so, why the charade?
“I need to be sure you won’t run or hurt yourself before I do that.” Repeated Bruce, still calm. And yeah. Like hell Jason wouldn’t run away.
“Please…” he pleaded, all dignity out the window, fully crying now. He needed the restraints off.
Bruce sighed and slowly, very slowly, too slowly, undid the restraints on his arms.
Jason immediately punched Bruce in the face, feeling the satisfying crack of a broken nose, before he started working on his legs.
He made it halfway to the door when Bruce stopped him, tackling him to the ground. They fought for some time, before Jason spotted a grappling gun abandoned on the floor.
Good enough. A gun was still a gun. He pointed it at Bruce who froze immediately, hands in the air.
None of then moved for a long time.
“I’m not gonna hurt you. You’re safe here, Jay. I need you to trust me.”
Jason shook his head.
“I can’t.”
Bruce took a deep breath.
“Who would you trust then? Alfred? Tim or Dick?”
Jason shook his head again. These three could very much be working with Bruce to get him out of the picture. He knew they appreciated him. He also knew they were loyal to Batman.
“Starfire? Arsenal?”
Jason hesitated for a second before shaking his head. His Bruce offered, he probably had Roy and Kori on his side too.
And then he looked past the barrel of the grappling gun. He looked at Bruce.
The man was utterly a mess. He had that desperate look Jason came to know over the year, and blood running all over his face.
Some part of him, the Robin part of him he thought had died in Ethiopia with the closest thing he had to a childhood, hurt at the sight.
He did this. He hurt Bruce, put that look on his face.
Slowly, very slowly, he lowered the gun.
“Bruce?” His voice was small, afraid. He felt like a child he never was.
“I’m here, Jay. I’m not leaving you. You’re safe.”
He still had trouble trusting him.
“We need to put the IV with the antidote back. Would you let me do it? Or do you want Alfred?”  
Jason looked at the cot he had been strapped in. Sure enough, there was an IV pole there, and his right arm was bloody from where he pulled it in his run. He hadn’t even realized.
He looked at the bed, then at Bruce, then at the exit.
“Can we do that outside? I need to be outside.” He still had yet to let go of the gun. The need to go out hadn’t really reached him until he talked about it, but now, it was hyper present. The cave was too small, suffocating. He knew he struggled with claustrophobia, but he never had a problem with the cave before. Maybe the fear toxin, or whatever it was (he still didn’t know if he could trust Bruce) was messing with that too.
“Will you run away if I open the door?” Bruce asked. He didn’t seem to trust Jason when the former Robin shook his head. If Jason was being honest, he had every reason not to.
“Don’t restrain me again.” He asked, still looking at the exit, and Bruce took a deep breath, apparently thinking about something.
“Would it be okay if I hold your hand?”
What?
“What?”
That was ridiculous.
“Would it be okay if I hold your hand? So you don’t run away.”
“No, I heard but…”
He thought about it. Really thought about it. About his options. Then nodded.    
Still in slow motion, Bruce reached toward him. He kinda felt like one of the feral cats Damian was regularly trying to tame.
And then Bruce touched his hand.
He felt like an electrical shock at the touch, flinched, and removed his hand.
He couldn’t trust Bruce. He couldn’t trust Bruce.
But Bruce just took a step back. Kept looking at him.
“Okay. Do you want to try again?”
Jason took one breath. Then another. Tried to calm down. Soon he would be out.
He let go of the gun, which fell on the ground. And, as slowly as any of the previous actions, he extended his arm toward Bruce.
The man eyes lighted up and the Robin inside Jason, the one he thought was dead and buried, found the strength to smile.
This time, when their hands connected, he didn’t get away.  
They walked awkwardly toward the exit. Once outside, Jason took a breath of air that felt like his first one in ages. Bruce didn’t let go of his hand.
They sat on the grass.
Bruce used the hand not holding into Jason to get his phone, typing rapidly.
“I’m calling Alfred.” He explained. “So he can get the IV for you and do something about…” he vaguely gestured toward his broken nose. Jason wanted nothing more than to disappear in that moment, shame washing over him.      
Bruce squeezed his hand.
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re fine. You’re safe.”
And maybe. Maybe. Jason could start trusting him.
 Endnote: I hope you enjoyed the story! Stay tuned for the rest if you did! Also, I don’t know why but my Antidote corrector keep counting ‘Batman’ as a place. (And yes, I’m using Antidote, I got it from my previous job and I’m not nearly using it at its full capacity).  
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greennightspider · 6 years
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Bargain with the King
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gif eez not mine, made originally by @alessa-10 in the original post here 
Summary: Korina’s brother gets into a spot of trouble, so she goes to plead her case with the King himself. A bargain with a king, or a deal with the devil? Ivar x OC 
One Night with the King(II), Custody of the King(III) Wrath of the King(IV) Desires of the King (V)
**smut warning** 🔥🔥😫
@laketaj24 @ivarsshieldmadien @readsalot73 @tephi101 @cbouvier23
Korina steeled herself as she made her way into the Great hall, past the curious and somewhat haughty gazes of those inside to approach the King. King Ivar was preoccupied
“My King.” Korina bowed, letting her long, tousled raven hair fall past her head before rising. “I have come to plead to you the case of my brother, who is awaiting trial.”
“Korina.” Ivar smiled smugly as he took in your pleading form. He knew you had swallowed a lot of your pride to come and beg at the hands of an acquaintance, a rival. An unbeknownst to her, an unrequited love. “Leave us.” Ivar commanded, and at once everyone in the Great Hall began to shuffle out.
Even as the doors finally shut Korina and Ivar had never broken eye contact, neither one willing to back down. Ivar smiled at the strong-willed woman in front of him and leaned back in his seat. “As I have heard it Korina, your brother was said to have made unjust advances towards a married woman, and then when she refused and he was caught, he beat her husband.”
“Bullshit. I have talked to my brother. He says that she was the one making advances towards her, and when he tried to refuse, she lied when her husband came home and pulled her onto him. Then her husband came at him with an axe, what was he supposed to do?!” Korina shouted, that fire in her eyes slightly lighting a fire in Ivar’s crotch. But he tried to concentrate on her words. “You know Arne would never. I mean, have you SEEN that hag?” Korina scoffed, folding her arms.
Ivar knew Korina and her brother Arne had in the past been disliked because they were half cast. Their mother from a different country had been brought here by her father during a raid, and while they had been raised Viking, and were Viking in every way, there were lesser men and women who couldn’t look past their slightly tanned skin, or dark wavy hair and dark brown eyes. Although Ivar had always known these lesser people were few and far between, as you did not get far in Kattegat being small-minded.
“Whether or not I believe you and your brother is of no concern. What matters is proof, and it is your word against theirs, and you were not present at the time so your word will not mean anything. He will be enslaved.” Ivar gritted through his teeth. While he did not want to see an old acquaintance leave, he was also very detached, as this was the way of this world. People came and went
“Please Ivar.”
 Ivar was known to be harsh but he would speak the truth. Korina’s family were not rich, and releasing Arne would be a big risk to him as king. “What can you offer me for waiving his charges, hmm? You have nothing of value to me.”
“I can give you what no man has ever had.”
Ivar froze. She couldn’t mean that. She couldn’t possibly mean… what he thought she meant.
Korina, unfazed by his sudden stillness walked forward and placed once foot on the step leading towards Ivar. “If you waive the charges against my brother, and he is set free, I will offer you, what every man in Kattegat has craved.” Taking another step towards Ivar, she bowed her head.
“Me.”
It was no secret that Korina was sought after throughout Kattegat, however the closest any man had gotten to her was the heel of her boot. Her beauty, honour and bravery were all feared and respected, even though wives would scoff at her while their husbands would gawk at her. With her waist long raven hair and dark brown eyes, she was unique in her features, and also for the fact that it was known that she had bed no man. A feared shieldmaiden who bowed to no one.
Except right here. Right now. At the foot of her king.
Fiery minx knows her worth. Ivar thought to himself. “And you would... give yourself to me?”
Korina raised her head to answer Ivar with steel resolve in her eyes, showing that must have already been prepared to offer this price. “I would do anything for family.” 
While Korina lowered head back down, she could not see Ivar’s face, which had turned into the darkest of smirks as he silently thanked the gods for this small blessing. His own member now throbbed within his breaches, as he sat now semi-hard on his throne, with the chance to bed the woman of his darkest dreams. There was no question.
“Err, my king, what is yo-“
“It is done Arne will be released today.” Ivar cursed himself as his rushed answer betrayed his eagerness.
Korina’s head bobbed down as she expelled a sigh of relief. She raised her head about to offer her gratitude when Ivar pulled her towards him, Korina tripping on her skirt and awkwardly landing in his lap in the process. “Ivar- ah my King, what-
Not missing a beat Ivar pulled Korina up towards him by her waist, and sat her properly on his lap, and without warning slowly kissed her full lips. Korina herself was surprised by the gentleness of his kiss, however she could feel the dominance as Ivar’s hand made it’s way to the back of her neck, slowly maneuvering her head this way and that. Korina herself getting lost in the kiss was quickly reminded of the deal she had struck, as she felt something hard poke her thigh. Slowly she lowered herself down off his lap so that her face was eye-level with Ivar’s clothed member, which already looked strained underneath the thin fabric. Raising her gaze to Ivar’s face, being a bit taken aback by his blue eyes ablaze with lust, Korina admitted, “I do not mind doing this here, however I do not want anyone to disturb-
“SEAL THE DOORS TO THE GREAT HALL, NO ONE IS ALLOWED IN, NOT EVEN MY BROTHERS!” Ivar’s voice boomed again, and Korina heard the latch of the great hall shut close. “Better?”
“Better.” Korina almost squeaked, as she undid his breaches and freed his cock. Careful not to lean too much on Ivar’s leg braces since she knew they had hurt since they were children, she stroked his length a few times before bringing the tip to her mouth, lightly sucking on it as she watched Ivar’s head roll back with a groan. Once her mouth was settled she placed both hands between her thighs and let her head do the work, remembering to breathe as her friends had often commented on.
Ivar couldn’t believe the sight between his legs. Here was the woman he had craved for so long, this beautiful shieldmaiden, now servicing his length as he sat on his throne. He muttered cursings under his breath, as for someone who had never had a man Korina was definitely not unskilled. He relished the way her tongue wrapped around his member, as every time she bobbed down she took him deeper and deeper into her mouth.
Korina herself grew more and more turned on, the sight of Ivar the merciless King at the mercy of her mouth Korina found highly erotic. The way his cock throbbed in her mouth as she felt his fingers tangle in his hair, she didn’t even flinch when his hands started moving her head on their own. “Fuck Korina… your mouth feels amazing.” Ivar growled as he felt Korina push her tongue against the sensitive parts of his cock.
He almost twitched in anger when Korina then suddenly brushed his hands away, only to moan in approval as she started swirling the head of his cock in her mouth as she bobbed up and down in her own fast rhythm, drawing his climax to the brink. Unashamedly he roared Korina’s name as he spilled his seed into her mouth, Korina just managing to swallow the large load. Ivar hissed as he felt Korina slowly suck him dry, his member leaving her mouth with a small pop. Ivar sat back and watched as Korina stood up, wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. “Arne will be freed immediately Korina. But you will come visit me tonight.” Ivar’s hunger for Korina having been only been stoked into a sexual fire that needed to be quenched.
“Yes, my King.”
Korina could see the yearning ablaze within Ivar. And for a moment the fearless shieldmaiden was taken aback, as she wondered what exactly she had gotten herself into.
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