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spacebarbarianweird · 6 months

Text

Snowstorm

Summary: As you stay together in a small inn, you accidently do something that triggers Astarion

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, f!tav, established relationship, post-game, trauma talk

TW: a mild description of SA, a mention of rape

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Masterlist

Headcanons

You want him.

Your body pulses with heat, and your veins course with adrenaline, the aftermath of the thrilling fight. Whether facing a dragon, a troll, or a devil, your muscles are taut, and the desire for more blood, debauchery, and victories fuels you. The longing for the fight to continue is undeniable, but nothing can hinder the path of your sword.

Yet, when the battle concludes, a different yearning takes hold. Your body desires something more personal, more natural, and at this moment, it craves Astarion.

A snowstorm blankets the surroundings with heavy flakes. You shiver in the cold. You get inside the inn, the only one along this part of the Long Road and go upstairs to the room you and Astarion have rented. It's the first time in months that both of you will sleep under a roof.

Astarion is there. Sitting on the floor with a book.

It's something with beds, he once admitted to you. The only time I used to have a chance to sleep on them was when I was seducing someone. I slept on the floor at the mansion, often tied up or chained. Hard surfaces feel safer; I know it sounds odd. I-I will try to adjust to sleeping in beds. Cuddling with you is worth fighting another shadow from my past.

Astarion puts the book away, studying you. You see happiness in his eyes, absolute joy.

"How was it, my sweet?" he asks. His voice is tender and caring.

"I wish there was one troll more," you pout. "I am ashamed even to ask the reward for such an easy kill."

"How dare they bother with you with boring tasks?" Astarion chuckles, finally standing up before you, opening his arms.

You are a weird couple. You effortlessly embrace your feminine side when you're in front of him, feeling like a beautiful, desired woman. To kiss him, you have to tiptoe a bit, and you revel in the sensation of sinking into his strong hands. Yet, you are the warrior, wielding a formidable two-handed axe. While you could easily lift Astarion (his elven bones being light and hollow), you refrain, knowing it annoys him.

You hang around his neck, nuzzling the collarbone. His arms press you tightly. "I should be upset with you for leaving me here," he teases, kissing your forehead.

"Just wanted to give you some personal space. Besides, that beast really took a toll on locals."

"Such a brave little thing, always thinking about the others. I still have a lot to teach you about selfishness."

You want to say something else but can't. You turn your eyes to the small window. The snowflakes are dancing in the winter wind, and you shiver.

Astarion helps you remove the armor, and it falls to the floor with a loud thump. As his hand slips under your shirt, you realize he has desired the same thing you have.

You pull away a little and then lightly push Astarion onto the bed. He chuckles and lets you lead. You straddle him with your hips, feeling a hardening bulge between your thighs. You kiss him and then take his white shirt off.

Astarion raises his elbows, anticipating your next action. You place your chilly palms on his chest, and although he would shiver if he were alive, the contrast between your usual temperature and that of someone who's just been outside in winter is barely perceptible to him.

You are burning hot, darling, he once told you. You are constantly burning like a campfire. No, more like… sunshine.

You tease his right nipple with your tongue and then lick the left one. Astarion groans, but you push him back on the pillow when he tries to sit down.

You don't notice that he stops looking at you and turns his face to the window. But you are already too aroused to pay attention.

You firmly grasp his wrists, using all your strength to pin Astarion to the bed, effectively restraining him. As he mumbles something, you silence him with a kiss, anticipating a response, hoping for a passionate reply that would make you lose yourself in the moment's intensity.

"Let me go," he mutters through clenched teeth when you part your lips from his.

"What?"

"Let me go!" he yells at you. His body is rigid; his fangs are bare, ready for an attack. You weaken your grip, Astarion frees his hands, and the next moment, you find yourself on the floor.

"A-astarion", you whisper. "What is wrong? Did I do something wrong?"

He is trembling; anger is mixed with fear and disgust. His mouth is half open, and his eyes wander as if looking for a hidden enemy.

"Leave me alone- "his voice cracks as if he's been screaming too long. It seems he wants to say something else, but whatever fear gripping him is too intense.

He gets out of bed, snatches the shirt, and puts it on like light armor.

What have you done; you think. You scroll through the memories, trying to figure out what has hurt him. Gripping his wrists? It's not like it could hurt him…

"Astarion, my love, » you stretch your left arm to him, but he recoils as if you are holding a razor to flay his skin.

"Go away. Go away!" he collapses on the floor, pressing legs to the chest.

There is no point in arguing; you will hurt him even more if you try to touch or console him. At this moment, you feel like your heart is pierced with a spear.

You leave the room and go downstairs.

The tavern on the first floor of the inn is empty. The snowstorm rages outside, threatening to bury the whole town.

Your heart and mind ache as you think about Astarion being alone with his fears and whatever nightmare you accidentally awoke. You are sure it was about hand gripping, and though it doesn't sound like something awful compared to what you usually do to each other, still -

You should have asked.

You should have asked him, you stupid cunt.

Astarion is still healing his broken mind and soul, and even if you don't have to be extra careful around him anymore, it doesn't mean there is no trigger left.

But there is no point in returning right now. You know him. If you press any harder, Astarion will just run away. And who knows where he will go in such a snowstorm.

You spend sleepless hours watching the snowflakes fall. The winds are howling like hungry wolves. Finally, you decide to come back – if Astarion still doesn't want to see you, you will just rent another room and sleep.

Because gods know you are tired.

…Astarion lies on the floor on his back, eyes closed. There is no implication that he's tried to hurt himself (it has happened a few times before after enduring yet another nightmare), and you are happy that at least he is here.

"Hello, my sweet", he says, opening his eyes. There is no fear or disgust. It is only the exhaustion of a person fighting monsters within for too long.

"I just wanted to check on you. If you don’t want me here, I will go."

He sighs. "Sit with me," he finally says, and his voice removes the stone from your chest.

You can't help but notice he's rolled the sleeves down. "Tell me what I did wrong".

"You? Nothing. It was just a… coincidence. Something got into my mind, and…you know how it happens to me".

You feel the desire to hold him, to hug him. You haven't seen Astarion so vulnerable for ages, but you don't want to trigger him further.

"We both know it wasn't. Please, tell me. And I am sorry for making you feel whatever you felt."

He tilts his chin up, studying the wooden ceiling.

"It just reminded me" he avoids looking at you. "One of my victims."

Oh no.

"I don't know who she was. He usually gave me some time to hunt, to choose a victim. But that night, he wanted something soon, right away. He said he would carve another poem on me if I didn't bring him anything within hours."

Astarion makes a pause. "It was a very similar evening. The snowstorm. So cold even I felt it. No one was outside, so I just went straight to the nearest inn to pick up some unlucky victim. It’s not like I had many options in such weather. "

His gaze wanders the room as if he is ashamed to look at you.

"There was a woman. Some old prostitute, drunk and filthy. It wouldn't take me much to do the job, and I was in a hurry."

You recognize this emotion on his face. Utter disgust.

"Well, I didn't have to play any tricks on her. There was no point. She just dragged me to bed, stinking like a pile of dead rats. Ideally, I would prefer to forget all the intercourses I'd had before you. But if I had a choice to choose only a few to forget, this would be the first I would name."

"Did she do the same things I did?"

Astarion finally looks at you. A familiar light returns to his eyes. "Darling, there were so many things done to me and things I did to others. We would have nothing left to do in bed should I decide to avoid every detail about my past."

"But still?"

"Yes. She gripped my hands and pinned me to the bed. The prostitute was pretty strong, and I thought she would break my arms. Or something else. At least, I would not be surprised if it happened."

It is not precisely that, you realize. Something after.

"So," Astarion proceeds. "Since she thought I was her client, I needed to pay for the "unforgettable service." I said I would gladly give her extra gold, but we must go to my place, that rich mansion in the Upper City. And some people, relatives of mine, would want her services as well. She followed me despite the terrible weather. Things we do for money and sex, I guess."

Astarion is silent again. The light in his eyes is replaced by disgust again.

"For a moment, I actually thought he liked her. At least, her blood. He was pretty content in the process. I was standing about five feet away from them, watching life leave her body. And seeing the choice I had as usual."

"A filthy rat and a sharp razor," you mutter.

He chuckles. "The rat wasn't really bad looking. Less filthy than the victim, that's for sure."

Astarion's shoulders start trembling.

"When he was done, he made me approach him. The moment I was in his arms' proximity, he started beating me. I don't know why. Because he didn't like the victim, because she was too drunk, because I did my job too bad or did it too good. But it was violent even to his standards."

The tears flow through his cheeks as if his body re-lives those moments of pain. You stretch your hand to show your intention but don't dare to touch Astarion. He looks at you but doesn't see.

"I don't remember how long it lasted. I started dissociating. It wasn't me. It wasn't my pain. Cazador beat me to the state where even vampiric regeneration needed time to repair the damage. And when I fell down on the floor, he –"

You know what he will say. You know what happened after.

"-he raped me"

The silence is unbearable. The only sound you can hear is muffled sobs. You feel like crying, too, but you get yourself together. That is the moment when he needs you, when it is you who is strong. Because he isn't. Because the monsters of the past have won.

"Astarion", you finally say. "May I touch you?"

He looks at you in horror, and you think he will either run away or snatch one of his daggers and slice his own skin.

"I don't know what was worse. That it was so painful because every fucking bone in my body was broken, that the other spawns saw it, that this dead woman was just near me. Or that after he'd finished, he ordered me to stay on that floor. I remember the window – it was a dark night, and the curtains were open. It was snowing." He points outside. "Snowing just like now."

Silence envelops you, drowned in a mixture of sorrow and rage. It feels like you've witnessed every horror that has befallen the man you love, only to discover that his mind harbors yet another layer of torment. The weight of it all is crushing. If it were within your power to end Cazador's existence a thousand times more, each demise would be crueler than the last.

Twenty-eight stabs by Astarion weren't enough for such a monster.

"My – My sweet, it wasn't you. I just heard his voice again in my head. As if he was still alive and that he gave an order not to move. Similar place, same weather, the grip." Astarion looks away. "I am sorry, it doesn't seem like… I will be able… for a while."

Now, there is shame in his voice, which breaks your heart for the second time.

"It's all right, Astarion. Take your time. Do you want me to touch you?"

"Not - not naked skin – please," he mutters.

You finally hug him, and Astarion melts in your arms.

"I am here, Astarion. You hear me? I am not going anywhere. I don't care about your past, about all these awful things. I am not scared. I am not disgusted", you say firmly. "Take all the time you need. Just let me know what you need.”

He finally relaxes enough to hold you again. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. Astarion, what can I do to make you feel better?"

"Can we just sit together?"

You sit on a bed, putting the pillow behind your back. Astarion sits between your lap, putting his head on your chest. You hug him as tight as possible, pressing him against you as you reach for the blanket.

"What are you doing?" he giggles.

"It's so cold I won't be able to warm you alone. Relax"

Astarion nods, and, in a moment, his whole body is covered by the warm blanket.

You start massaging his scalp, and he releases a sigh.

"You are the best thing that happened to me," you whisper. "I love you. I will do anything to help you with your memories and your past. I am not ashamed, not disgusted. I knew what I was getting into when you told me the first details of your life. I am not with you for your looks. I am not with you for sex."

«That is still the most surprising because if you were for me for these two things, I could understand it.”

"Honestly, I really fall into your looks, don't get me wrong. Never seen anyone so beautiful in my life. But the more we traveled, the more I loved you.”

You kiss the crown of his head and are pleased to notice that he is no longer tense.

"Do it again, that – thing."

You kiss him, burying your face in his silver curls. "My beautiful elf, my love, my man, so strong, so beautiful, so resilient. Every spawn in that wretched place was broken in pieces. You were the only one who managed to preserve himself. Everyone was telling me you were a mess that would drag me to hell, but I saw such strength in you! You survived. You did the most unimaginable thing. You survived where anyone would die. Preserved your sanity where madness was the only remedy. And what you did back then, refusing to become the very monster, is the thing that makes me proud of you. Astarion, listen to me. You are everything. I want you. I need you. Your presence makes me happy."

He looks up at you and raises his hand to caress your cheek. His face is red with tears. He wants to say something, but words are drowning in cries. He covers his face again, and you start cradling him in your hands as if he was a little child.

Eventually the sobs subside, and Astarion finally relaxes. He turns his head toward the window, watching the falling snow.

"Do you want me to close the curtains?"

"No. I am making new memories."

"What?"

"The next time I see a blizzard outside the inn window, I want to remember at once how you held me, how I felt safe and loved. In time, I will be able to replace everything. "

He touches your knee cup below the blanket. "Tell me about that awful troll you murdered yesterday. With all the gore details."

You plant a kiss on his cheek. "Just don't complain you weren't there."

"Of course, I will complain. Had fun without me, how did you dare?" he laughs. "And what if this troll had hurt my darling girl without me by her side to protect her?"

"I thought I was the warrior in our relationship."

"You are the most amazing woman a man dares to get. So, forgive me for being protective."

You squeeze him in your hands. You feel like falling asleep, and the last thing that comes to your mind is how grateful you are for having Astarion in your life.

Tag List

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession

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stalkerofthegods · 5 months

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Ares Deep dive

Ares

Herbs • Garlic, basil, buttercup, yarrow, ginger, anything with tiny yellow flowers, spicy stuff (ex- peppers, paprika), Water hemlock, Snapdragon, Poppy, Nettle, Magnolia, Ginger

Animals• Vulture, Colchian Dragon, serpents, barn owls, woodpeckers, dogs, horses, Stymphalian birds, boars

Zodiac • Aries

Colors • Red, black, and dark purple

Crystal• garnets, rubies, bloodstone, obsidian, red scoria, smoky quartz, red jasper, carnelian

Symbols• a helm, a shield, a spear and sometimes a sheathed sword, flaming torch, armor, palace, four fire-breathing horses

Jewelry you can wear in their honor• Iron, armor

Diety of• masculinity, civil order, Battle lust, courage, City guards/police, Rage, Violent deeds, Fights, Murder, Manslaughter, Quarrels, cheese, dancing, rebellion

Patron of• the Amazons, City defenses, City defenders

Offerings• Dragons, Dragon imagery, Dragon art, Strong dark red wine, Strong whiskey, Pure water, Black coffee, Black tea, Olive oil, Beef, Red meats in general, Cooked fat from meats, Blood from cut meats, Heavy spices, Spicy foods, Garlic, Red, black, and dark purple candles, Art or statues of Him, Statues of horses or dogs, Weapons, armor, and shields (ex- art, statues, toys, handmade.), Trophies, Spicy jerky, Sport drinks / protein shakes, Hand drawn or printed art of HimArt or images of dogs, horses, and vultures, Feathers from vultures, woodpeckers, or barn owls, Iron or steel jewelry, Red flowers (ex- roses), Thorns, Miniature or toy weapons and armor (especially helmets), Snake skin, Animal teeth, Write down your fears or successes and give them to Him, Medals and ribbons you’ve earned, Antiques, Photos of riots or past wars, hot sauce, Pork ribs, homemade meals, poultry, hare, venison, wolf hearts, chili peppers, lemons, green bananas, unripe peaches, batons, bullets, kendo swords, shields, military helmets, bullet-proof vests, military boots, military belts, dynamite sticks, grenades, lion pelts, shark teeth, ram skulls, explosives (handle carefully), Medals or Certificates, dog fur or dog teeth (ethically sourced), horseshoes, bull horns, war memorabilia, broken glass, spicy jerky or twiggy sticks, Carmel, sushi, stormwater, spicy salsa, Mexican food, chocolate or chia pudding, burnt matches, cigarette butts

Devotional• Create a playlist and listen to music that makes you feel brave/empowered, Donate to the Rape Crisis Center or other similar programs, Donate and support victims of war, Cook with garlic or heavy spices that you haven’t tried before, Try new things and don’t feel ashamed about doing so, Tell Him about your accomplishments, Tell Him about your fears, Learn about shadow work and try it for yourself, Learn about history, past wars, and past riots, Learn what they accomplished or failed to accomplish, Learn and educate yourself about the downsides of war and what can happen to the people affected by wars, Partake in combat sports (ex- martial arts, fencing), Exercise, Play some strategy games like chess, Risk, and Civilization, Stand up for yourself and what you believe in, write to your governor/mayor for things you want to see changed, attend riots, Pray to Him (ex-strength, ability to fight and defeat enemies, courage, to keep others safe, and help in a battle), go to a protest, learn first aid, educate yourself on PTSD, do unharmful things that give you adrenaline rushes (ex- amusement park rides, bungee jumping), watch action movies with him, pet a dog, Playing Strategy Games, Work on managing your anger, bones, go do axe throwing, a playlist that makes you feel, brave, energized and confident, keep track of your successes (this can be daily tasks, when you conquer them cross them off, and then offer the list to Ares), write down or draw art of your fears, go to a rage room, pray or meditate during thunderstorms, watch war movies and documentaries and play war/combat and strategy video games

Ephithets•Adámastos/adamastus/ἀδάμαστος/ΑΔΑΜΑΣΤΟΣ/ἀδάμας -unconquerable & indestructible, Ænyálios/enyalius/ἐνυάλιος/ΕΝΥΑΛΙΟΣ -war-God, Alcimus, Álkimos/alcimus/ἄλκιμος/ΑΛΚΙΜΟΣ/Adj - valiant, brave, Alloprósallos/alloprosallus/ἀλλοπρόσαλλος/ΑΛΛΟΠΡΟΣΑΛΛΟΣ- loyal to the struggle and to the souls who are engaged in it, Ánax/ἄναξ/ΑΝΑΞ -lord, king, Aphneiós/aphneius/ἀφνειός/ΑΦΝΕΙΟΣ -rich, wealthy, Arrectus, Árriktos/arrectus/ἄρρηκτος, ΑΡΡΗΚΤΟΣ -unbreakable, Brotoctonus, Enyalius, Hippius, Hoplochares/Hoplodupus/Hoplophorus, Íppios/hippius/ἵππιος/ÍΠΠΙΟΣ -horseman, Mægasthænís/megasthenes/μεγασθενής/ΜΕΓΑΣΘΕΝΗΣ/μεγασθενές -very strong, Megasthenes/Mægasthænís., Ombrimothymus:See Omvrimóthymos/Omvrimóthymos/ombrimo hymus/ὀμβριμόθυμος/ΟΜΒΡΙΜΟΘΥΜΟΣ/ὀβρῐμόθῡμος -doughty, indomitable, Oplódoupos/hoplodupus/ὁπλόδουπος/ΟΠΛΟΔΟΥΠΟΣ -clattering in his armor, Oplokharís/hoplochares/ὁπλοχαρής, ΟΠΛΟΧΑΡΗΣ -rejoicing in arms, Oplophóros/hoplophorus/ὁπλοφόρος/ΟΠΛΟΦΟΡΟΣ - he who bears arms, Phrictus/Phriktós/phrictus/φρικτός/ΦΡΙΚΤΟΣ - horrifying, Polæmóklonos/polemoklonus/πολεμόκλονος/ΠΟΛΕΜΟΚΛΟΝΟΣ -he raises the clamor of combat, Polemoklonus/Polæmóklonos, Sceptuchus/ Skiptoukhos/Skiptoukho/sceptuchus/σκηπτοῦχος/ΣΚΗΠΤΟΥΧΟΣ -he who bears a scepter, Teichesipletes/Teikhæsiplítis/Teikhæsiplítis/teichesipletes/τειχεσιπλήτης/ΤΕΙΧΕΣΙΠΛΗΤΗΣ—he who storms the cities in battle, Vrotoktónos/brotoctonus/βροτοκτόνος, ΒΡΟΤΟΚΤΟΝΟΣ -the slayer of men.

Equivalents• Mars (Roman), Onuris-Anhur (Egyptian god), Tiu-Tyr (Germanic god), unnamed war-god (Scythian god).

Courting• unmarried, but courting Aphrodite.

Past lovers/crushes/hookups• Aerope, Agraulos, Harmonia, Otrere, Astyokhe, Demonike or Sterope, Kyrene or Asterie, Astyokhe

Personality• He’s a great father, and a great lover, I talk to a godspouse of his and they talk about how he calmed them and was always there. He’s a great father because I’ve talked to a person who their father is ares and he’s always there for them, he’s also generous.

Home• Mount Olympus

Mortal or immortal • immortal

Fact• Ares was the only male greek god that never raped or sexually assaulted any woman

Curses• Routing armies, Cowardice, Death on the battlefield, Military invasion, Sacking of cities, Rebellion, Uprisings, Sedition

Blessings•Driving armies, Bravery, fighting strength & endurance, Averting war (peace), Repelling invading armies, Maintaining civil order, Crushing rebellions, Restraint violent instinct,

Roots• Thrake, Ancient Greece.

Parentage• Zues and Hera

Siblings• Enyo (twin sister), Eris (sister), Apollo (half-brother), Artemis (half-sister), Athena (half-sister), Hephaestus (brother), Hermes (half-brother), Dionysus (half-brother), Hebe (sister), Heracles (half-brother), Aphrodite (half-sister).

Pet• four fire-breathing horses (Aithon (Red-Fire), Phlogios (Flame), Konabos (Tumult) and Phobos (Fear))

Children •ANTEROS (God of reciprocated love, son of Ares and Aphrodite), DEIMOS (God of fear, a son of Ares and Aphrodite.), ENYALIOS/Enyalius (A war-god son of Ares and Eris), EROS (God of love, a son of Ares and Aphrodite), HARMONIA (Goddess of harmony, daughter of Ares and Aphrodite.), NIKE(The goddess of victory, a daughter of Ares), PHOBOS (God of panic, son of Ares and Aphrodite),AEROPOS/Aeropus (son of Ares and Aerope.), ALKIPPE/Alcippe (daughter of Ares and Agraulos), AMAZONES/Amazons (Warrior women of Assyria, daughters of Ares and Harmonia), ANTIOPE(daughter of Ares and Otrere), ASKALAPHOS/Ascalaphus (son of Ares and Astyokhe), DIOMEDES (son of Ares and Kyrene or Asterie), DRYAS (son of Ares), EUENOS/Evenus (son of Ares and Demonike, and sometimes the son of Ares and Sterope), HIPPOLYTE (daughter of Ares and Otrere.),IALMENOS/Ialmenus (son of Ares and Astyokhe), KYKNOS/Cycnus) (son of Ares and Pelopia or Pyrene), LIKYMNIOS/Licymnius (son of Ares most say his father was King Elektryon), LYKASTOS/Lycastus) (son of Ares and Phylonome.), LYKOS/Lycus (son of Ares who used to sacrifice strangers to his father), MELANIPPOS/Melanippus (son of Ares and Triteia.), MELEAGROS/Meleager (son of Ares and Queen Althaia, but most call him a son of King Oineus), MOLOS/Molus (son of Ares and Demonike), NISOS/Nisus (son of Ares, but most accounts say he was a son of the Athenian prince Pandion), OIAGROS/Oeagrus (a son of Ares but some say his father was King Kharops),OINOMAUS/Oenomaus (son of Ares and the Pleaid Sterope or Princess Harpinna), OXYLOS/Oxylus (son of Ares and Protogeneia), PARRHASIOS/Parrhasius(son of Ares and Phylonome.),PARTHENOPAIOS/Parthenopaeus (son of Ares and Atalanta, many say his father was Melanion or Meleagros), PENTHESILEIA (daughter of Ares and Otrere), PHLEGYAS (He was a son of Ares and Dotis or Khryse.), PORTHAON (son of Ares or according to others of Agenor), PYLOS/Pylus (son of Ares and Demonike.), REMUS (son of Ares and Ilia), ROMULUS (son of Ares and Ilia), TEREUS (a son of Ares.), THESTIOS/Thesius (son of Ares and Demonike or Agenor and Epikaste), THRASSA (daughter of Ares and Tereine.), DRAKON ISMENIAN (A monstrous dragon-serpent, it was a son of Ares and the Erinys Telphousia.)

attendees• DEIMOS & PHOBOS (The twin gods of terror and fear), ERIS & ENYO (goddess of strife, hatred and war), KYDOIMOS/Cydoemus (The god of the din of war), NIKE (goddess of victory), OTHER ABSTRACTIONS(spirits described such as Rage, Anger, Threats, Death and Valour)

Appearance in astral or gen• In ancient Greek art, he was depicted as either a mature, bearded warrior armed for battle, or as a nude, beardless youth with a helm and spear.

Festivals • Artemis Agrotera/Kharisteria , and Genesios, maybe.

Day • Tuesday

Scared places• Odrysia in Bistonia, Thrake (his birth-place)

Planet• Mars

Tarot cards• Chariot & Emperor card

Scents/Inscene • Frankensince, Sandalwood incense, resin, burning wood (especially if Himalayan salt in thrown in since it reminds him of blood), and red sandalwood incense

Prayers•

Prayer to Ares for the Safety of a Soldier

Bold-hearted Ares, bright-helmed son of thundering Zeus and noble Hera, well-honored god of war, any battle will you face, any foe will you fight, without fear and without hestitation. Ares, god of warriors, ally of those who risk their lives on the field, to you do soldiers offer their prayers. You know each one’s name, O Ares, you know their lives, you know their worth. Great Ares, I pray to you, watch over ____________ who heeded your call, who practices your art, whose name you know well, for s/he is one of your own who does you honor with each day s/he serves. Ares, I pray to you.

In general

Bright-helmed Ares, strong of arm and stern of visage, firm of stance, unyielding of will, ever ready to face any foe, to hold the line against all who may come, to battle until the end. Ares, son of noble Zeus and wise Hera, cherished by golden Aphrodite, honored by those who call on you for strength and courage, in the north were you much honored in times of old, in Thrace and Thessaly were you held in esteem by those whose lives were harsh, whose world was stony, whose comforts were hard-won. Ares who answers the prayers of the despairing, I honor you

For Courage

Ares, fierce-hearted son of Zeus and noble Hera, full-famed you are as god of war. To you do soldiers pray when battle is most heated, when mettle is most needed. To you as well do we turn in desperate times, to you do we call for strength, for the spirit to endure. You understand the terror of struggle and strife, you confront it in every way. Ares, your courage is unquestioned, your might and your prowess unequaled. Ares, friend to those in direst need, I pray to you, grant me the nerve to face what must be faced, grant me the will to do what must be done, grant me the heart to forge ahead.

Links/websites/sources •https://greekgodsandgoddesses.net/gods/ares/

https://twelfthremedy.tumblr.com/post/624476009567289344/ares-offerings/amphttps://aspisofares.wordpress.com/tag/offerings/https://www.tumblr.com/warriots/622104378198933504/a-guide-to-ares-worship https://www.tumblr.com/warriots/622104378198933504/a-guide-to-ares-worship https://scarletarosa.tumblr.com/post/187742800571/ares-greek-god-ofhttps://www.tumblr.com/diana-thyme/722942201197363200/greek-gods-101-ares @enyalios-shrinehttps://greekpagan.com/category/prayers-2/ares/

BIG HELP TO

https://www.tumblr.com/tarotbee

Ares is the Greek god and patron of many things, he is the edge of the sword while you hold the soft side, no god can be the god of war without the bloodshed, so don’t judge so quick, he is an amazing god, we love Ares here. Please excuse my grammar and everything, I tried my best.

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gremlingottoosilly · 10 months

Text

[If you need to be mean] chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Your date with a new guy isn't good for you. Konig is inclined to show you that. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective TW for this chapter: Drug use, Attempted date rape. Please, proceed with caution.

He can kill a person in under 10 seconds.

Time cuts in half if he is allowed to use weapons – but it would go up to ten minutes if the victim is particularly bitchy, he has an ax to grind, and he wants to take his time with a knife to gut the person’s insides out of their body.

All time in the world wouldn’t be enough to torture this unforgivable, terrible, disgusting son of a bitch who decided that he can just come out and take what rightfully belong to him. A man whose desires are literally printed on that stupid grin plastered on his face. He transfers it in the movement of his hand when he holds your waist too tight, when he smiles and laughs at your – adorable, funny, perfect – jokes and.

König prides in always being the silent one, the calm, collected guy who is capable of holding his emotions inside of him until they would eventually die down and leave him without any big, terrible feelings. He uses battlefield as a way to reveal his emotions, to unveil it in a more healthy way – and sometimes he visits his therapist, explains all of the horrible stuff he sometimes wants to do to people around him, or someone from his past, and then waits for a new portion of sedatives that he won’t use because he is stronger than this, who they think he is?

König takes pride in never talking if something isn’t right – he would simply change the situation, make it better, always the type to do stuff and not talk about doing stuff – but then he looks at the bastard who took you on something that can’t be anything but a date, and he is fuming. They aren’t supposed to kill civilians, of course, soldiers are here to protect them, to hunt for terrorists who prey upon innocent victims, just like your fragile self – but for god's sake, if he never had to restrict himself more than right now. He has to do something about it, he can’t just let his girl, his perfect future wifey to just…whore herself around to other people!

Yes, you are not yet aware of his plans, but he knows that you are faithful – just, perhaps, a bit dumb and not realizing yet who you belong to. It’s fine, he can’t just let you have agency over something that is just beyond control of your silly, fragile mind. He is fine with you being a bit too naive – he doesn’t need you to be smart or capable, or even independent, he would take care of everything as long as you are pliant and docile for him. As long as he is willing to do whatever it takes to keep you safe, of course.

He can disassemble a body in under 5 minutes. Bones are usually the toughest part, especially if he doesn’t have a proper bone saw in his arsenal, but he can always dispose of it by using the strength of his enormously big body – he is working out for a reason, and he has done lots of unforgivable things to conceal the truth behind some of the crimes he committed in service. He isn’t proud of this, but if his skills would help him dispose of the body of this guy, he would do it in a blind of an eye.

His size isn’t allowing him to follow you two properly – and, unfortunately, he only saw you in the end of this supposed date, walking down the street with your body already shaking from alcohol intake. This is completely unsafe, he thinks – you are so soft, so fragile right now, you shouldn’t even be walking on the street like this. You can get hurt, someone can take advantage of you, you are still wearing the dress that is too fucking short to be walking out in the street at this hour, and your makeup is adorable and nice, but he doesn’t even want to think about all that unwanted attention your wasted body can attract right now.

If you were with him, he would call a taxi already, make sure that you are at home safely – or go with you, take you to his place and prepare some water and hangover medicine. He wouldn’t just parade you like that, allowing you to giggle drunkenly and cling on his body. He would…okay, maybe he would take your body in his hands at first, but then he would find you a nice and comfy place to sleep, so he could gently touch your hair the whole night and watch as you would sleep softly, only sometimes waking up so he could hold your hair while you are puking your insides out.

If you were with him…but you aren’t. You’re on a date with some douchebag, smiling and clinging on his hand, allowing him to hold your waist and let his hand slip to your butt. König almost wants to laugh – he forgot how dumb civilians might be, how naive, how weak. He should feel betrayed that you, a perfect little lady of his dreams, is out with someone else – and he would be, he ought to punish you for this later, but he knows that he can’t really blame you. You are weak, docile, your pretty head has no thoughts besides sunshines and maybe rainbows – just like a normal civilian. You can’t really be blamed for not understanding yet what relationships you two have, and why you can’t break it to be with another man.

*** You are not having fun.

It wasn’t as clear at first, when the guy – Tomas, of course, you studied his nametag for a week at least before he finally asked you out, even though you really thought it would just be a friendly gesture. He asked you for a few drinks, said something about your colleagues also being here – a little friendly gathering with your coworkers, a nice way to relax from all the terrorist threats and that shitty manager you have. It was supposed to be a fun thing, nothing serious, and you really like that guy – maybe even in a romantic sense. He is handsome, kinda cool, your age and works with you – a recipe for nice little fling, yes?

Then no one came and you were messaging all your colleagues who were close to you – and no one knew anything about a friendly gathering at the local pub.

Then he proposed to pay for your drinks and you agreed – a nice way to save some money, you would repay him later, maybe in the next pub after this one, so it won’t drain both of your paychecks.

Then the drinks started to feel too heavy. You never got drunk so fast before, only one cocktail already made your head buzz with alcohol, and you almost want to change your order to a virgin mojito, but then you would probably seem like a buzzkill. You don’t want to be a buzzkill, poor guy is sad enough that no one comes to his makeshift party. Besides, if one drink is kicking you off so hard, it can also save you money – so it really is just a win-win situation and even if his hand slights a bit too deep in your thighs, and the pub seems too sleazy and empty for a friendly date, you are already too wasted to tell.

Then you drink, and drink, and he doesn’t seem so weird anymore – besides, you did like him a lot. Besides, he paid for your drinks and it’s really nice, he even proposed to watch over your glass while you are out to the bathroom. You would try to splash water over your face to feel a bit more sober, but that would ruin your makeup – so you just cool your hand in some cold stream while hoping that this is just a moment of weakness and you would be okay after a few minutes.

Then you aren’t okay and you really, really don’t want to be a buzzkill, but you quietly ask him to just go home – and he is walking you to his place, so you won’t have to suffer through hangover alone. It’s really nice of him, he supports your weight and you would just call an uber, but no one wants to work so closely to the curfew, and you can’t really break it again – unless you want that creepy scary terrifying handsomely weird colonel to catch you again, but in even more guilty state. Your state of mind isn’t clear, but Tomas helps you walk and he gently rubs your waist and you don’t even listen to him, just giggle from his compliments. He asks if you want him to stay – and you laugh because you don’t really feel good, you feel out of control mostly, and your body feels too light and too heavy at the same time, but he holds your hair and asks again and you almost begin to panic but hey, there really isn’t much to panic about, he is good guy, right, and then…

You are not sure if you want him to be this close to you, but every time you try to make a small distance between your bodies, he clings on even more, and you aren’t sure how long you can keep doing this. He is a good guy, and you don’t want to be rude, he is probably just worried about you – you are so dizzy, you can just fall any second and this will be your fault completely. He pushes you deeper in the alley and you feel nauseous – he is too much, too close, he holds you too tight and you feel like you are going to puke. Tomas holds you close and you almost panic – but you shouldn’t, it should be fine, he is just worried about you, but it feels so weird, sick, you don't want to be here suddenly. Don’t want to feel so weak in his grasp.

— W…wait, Tom. I don’t feel so good, I…sorry, I shouldn’t be drinking so much.

You are in front of his house – he cuts the way through the alley, basically dragging you over to the place, and you don’t like it anymore. You want to be at your home, puking in that shitty bathroom of yours – all alone, at least, drink some emergency medicine and hope that you could still go to work tomorrow.

— Hey, are you alright?

He is attentive and nice and you feel bad for being such a bitch about everything, you totally ruined his evening by being such a lightweight – there is something dark in his eyes, and you are scared that this is contempt of you. That he hates being around you so, so fucking much because you are nothing but a buzzkill to him.

— I’m…sorry, I think I should just call a ride home.

— Come on. You really think this is what’s best now?

— I don’t feel so good, sorry, I…

—A guy deserves something for being nice, no? I paid for your drinks after all.

You want to say that he only paid for one drink that got you drunk too fast. You want to say that this doesn't feel right, that you shouldn’t be so wasted out of one cocktail, that you feel wrong, weird, that you really, really don’t want to be with him right now. He holds you too close and you try to ge tout of his grasp, but you feel too fucking heavy.

Something is wrong.

Suddenly, he doesn’t seem like such a good guy as before.

— Sorry, I don’t…I think I need to go to the hospital, I…

His grasp on wrists became bruising. You don’t want to be here anymore, you want to yell for someone to help you get the fuck out of here – but your mouth feels like its full of water and dry at the same time, you don’t want to yell because what if you are just overthinking, and he is genuinely a nice guy. What if you will only disturb people around here – his neighbors probably need to sleep already, you don’t want to be a nuisance.

— Well, sorry I’m not that fancy army guy.

— It’s not like this, I don’t even…

— You just love behaving like you’re too good for this place, yeah? Sorry for disturbing you with our poor vibes, princess.

He is angry now, and you are not even sure why – you can’t even master a normal sentence when your head is spinning and your throat can’t even master a tiny breath anymore, you are barely even able to talk.

— I…

— I’m getting really sick of waiting for your majesty to pay attention. Think I deserve something nice for my patience.

He grabs your hands even tighter and drags you to his apartment – your body feels heavy, you don’t want to be here with him, he is talking nonsense and blaming you for someone that you don’t even know – you barely remember him by now. He is speaking, talking about something – until he isn’t.

Then you hear something crack and this is what the curtain call for your tired, exhausted mind to shut off finally.

*** König can kill a person in under 10 seconds – even less if he has a weapon.

Fucking asshole who tried to force himself on you doesn’t even deserve his sadistic streak – he don’t want to waste time on killing him, precous minutes that he can spend tending to your needs. If it was under different circumstances – if your limp body weren’t lying on the ground right now, gently pushed down by his reaction when you first started to fall down – he would think about torturing this guy a bit more.

Firstly, he would break his fingers – one by one. It’s not as effective a way of torturing someone as pulling their nails off, for example, since a person can die much easier from that kind of pain – but he would do it anyway, just so he can get the kick out of destroying the hands that were touching you.

Secondly, he would do something with his face – maybe burn the fuck out of his filthy mouth, that dared to speak to you in such rude manner. He would pull his tongue off, slowly break each of his teeth – right until pulling them also, enjoying the sight of blood dripping from his broken lips. you would be terrified probably – so he won’t make you watch it, would just ask you nicely to sit somewhere and smile until he is doing all the dirty work. He would love doing this for you – and you could just lick the blood from his hands later.

Guy would probably be unconscious by this point – a good way to toss him like a piece of garbage he is, leaving him to slowly bleed out somewhere secure, where no one would ever find him. Then, König could return to you – and your innocent little smile, your trembling hands and cold body in need for warming up.

But he doesn't have much time right now – he just snapped the bastard’s head while not even caring if someone is watching. If there is someone who saw the scene and didn’t help you – he would go for them too. Protector of his country can have a bit of collateral damage, as a treat. You are his biggest priority and right now you are laying on the ground, barely moving – he only sees your chest moving up and down, the only thing that helps him not to panic from thinking that you are dead. He gently holds your body upright, making sure to support your head – like a small baby, even though he was never holding one.

He has quite a few experiences in taking care of his drunk comrades – he would usually just toss them out of the bar and into whatever taxi was available. If he is feeling generous – and they are out of car service available in the area – he would even drag them on his shoulder, given that even with men in full gear and a wall of muscles, he is still larger and stronger.

But he can’t just toss you around like a bag of potatoes, you are fragile! And helpless, and adorable, and he wants to kill that bastard a second time because you are clearly intoxicated and he doesn't even want to think about what could have happened if he wasn’t here to save you. You look perfect, placed in his arms like a good and obedient girl. He is almost caught in fantasies again, but the weight of your body in his hands is bringing him back to reality.

You smell like alcohol and something sweet, a nice fragrance that you used for this day – jealousy is eating him from the inside, because his adorable little lady didn’t put perfume for him. For that asshole instead, but at least he is dead now – neck twisted and head snapped, quick and silent job. He just tossed his body in the nearest trash can, knowing that even if police did try to find him as a convict, they would be forced to look away if they don’t want to have problems with the local military.

König remembers the path to your house like he came here every day. He wants this to be true, but this rathole isn’t safe for you. He needs to get you out of here, to place you in the safety of his lap, where he could hug you and cherish you and worship the paradise you are keeping between your legs, waiting for him to come and ripen you. No one is out in the streets at this hour, and he moves fast enough that he covers the ground fairly fast.

You stir slightly in his grasp and he moves his hands a little, hugging the curve of your ass a bit more. Your thighs are soft and he pushes his fingers deeper in the plumpness of your flesh, enjoying the sensation – you are wearing some skimpy dress and a short jacket, once again not being dressed up to the weather. He almost wants to give you a good spanking, bend you over his knee and beat the flesh of your ass until you learn his lesson. The image of your adorable crying face, begging him to stop and meowling about being a good girl for him makes his pants tighter – and he drags you closer to him, heating your body with his.

You are addictingly small in his hands, he has to use all what’s left of his self control to not grab your body in inappropriate places. He pushes you closer to the door of your apartment once he is trying to search for the keys in your pocket – it’s hard when you are still unconscious but still moves in his hands, trying to resist even if he is not doing anything. He wants you to cry under him, to get crazy from stimulation as he slams his hips in yours, breeding you like a good little puppy you are – but he wants you to beg him to do this, to allow him to. He almost manages with his anxiety over the years, but the deeply rooted fear of rejection makes him self-conscious.

— W…wait, don’t ‘ouch me…

König almost freezes in place. Your voice is small, broken, he can sense the tears in your tone as he gently rocks you in his hands. Your place is even worse on the inside, and he absolutely can’t have you staying here for long – but he also doesn’t want to drag an intoxicated and probably drugged girl to the base, leaving his reputation to become even more monstrous. He can invite you to his quarters later, when you both would have time for a very harsh conversation about safety – and why you are a dumb little civilian who shouldn’t ever be thinking for herself if she knows what’s good for her. He can be there for you, and deliver the well-deserved punishment on your body.

— Quiet, mein Schatz. It’s alright now.

— No, wait, I…wait…

You are still half-asleep when he gently moves your limp body to the couch, touching your hair even so gently. You are so pliant right now, so docile – afraid of him, of course, it breaks his heart, but it also makes his pants tighter. König enjoyed having you so weak in his arms, just like a good sweetheart should be – not making him feel anxious with the possibility of rejection, not making him angry for not listening to his demands.

He can have you now – not like you would be able to resist.

His large hands moving your head to the pillow, softly placing your face to the side so if you would feel sick, you won’t choke on your own vomit – he has too many experiences of very good soldiers almost dying from such mundane reasons, and he can’t have his little bunny suffering from such disgusting fate. He can’t help but touch your hair constantly, enjoying the feeling of it under his fingers – he tangles up with the strands of it, massaging your scalp only to make you let go of a small groan and frown in your sleep, unaware of the stimulation.

Your apartment is tiny, even more so – for him. The ceilings are dangerously low above his head and if he wasn't hunching down constantly, trying to make himself smaller, safer for you, he would already bump into your ceiling lamp a few times. He smiles under his mask, happy that even if you were awake, his expression is concealed – he has a wide, scary grin on his face and it only grows larger every time you shift slightly in your sleep, but ultimately allows him to touch your body as he seems fit.

He can lose control - so easily. You are helpless, limp on the couch even as your eyes are fluttering awake and you take in your surroundings. Your dress is dangerously short, and he can’t help but stare at your curves – your legs are making him go crazy with desire, fantasies about spreading them and burying his face in the sweetness of your cunt are flooding his mind. It would be so easy, just make sure you wouldn’t be able to resist and…

— Wh…what happened?

You are so fucking fragile – like a fine porcelain doll that his mother liked to collect. All wrapped up in your own weakness, face flushed and eyes filled with tears as you realize that you are laying on the couch in your home, and he – the man who scared you more than any terrorist or war ever can – is softly touching your hair, playing with any loose strands.

You want to panic – but he softly pushes a finger against your lips. König doesn’t care what your neighbors would think if you cried or screamed, but the walls here are thin, and he doesn’t want to deal with the police and showing off his military badge to any corrupt scum that lives in this country. Your eyes darted to him, terrified – and he doesn’t want this, no, he can’t have you afraid of him. A little bit of fear is okay, it’s normal, he can train that out of you – but he would prefer his wifey to be madly in love, not madly terrified.

— It’s okay. I took care of that Arschloch for you.

Your mind is still dizzy, your throat is dry as you try to master at least some meaningful words. Drug is still not out of your system completely – you understand that it was a drug now, you couldn’t be so drunk from just one cocktail, no matter the alcohol content. Tomas tried to do something to you – but you blacked out before he even got you to his apartment, and now you are home, at your favorite shitty couch, with a monster of a man holding you close.

You want to cry, but his hands are oddly warm and you lean closer to his touch.

You want to panic, but he pushes his fingers against your lips and you slightly calm down.

— Tomas? Is he…

— Ja, meine Liebe. He’s dead.

You are feeling sick. The knot in your stomach, anxiety mixed with alcohol and drugs is making you nauseous, you are scrambling on your feet as you try to get out of the couch – your place might not be the best choice out here, but you pride yourself in at least keeping it clean. He helps you get on your feet, supporting your limp head as you desperately try not to puke on the carpet.

He killed him? How did he die? Did he do something to you while you were asleep? Did he…

— Let me help you, ja?

— I picked up a shift in the morning…

— You are not working here anymore.

— But…

— Don’t fight me, lamm.

He drags you to the toilet and holds your hair as you empty your anxieties away, and the scene is disgusting – but he can’t help but to relish in how adorable you look. All helpless, your body is barely holding together when he tries his best to be gentle, rubs circles in your back and pats your head softly.

König has a lot of experience in dealing with stuff like this – mostly for himself, when his nerves got the best of him and he couldn’t shit them off. He used to be drunk – one of the reasons why he isn’t taking his meds is just so he could drink enormous amounts of alcohol, enough for his body to finally get drunk. He knows how terrible the intoxication feels when you’re alone – so he wants to take care of you, brings you a glass of water as you hug the corner of your bathtub and tries your best to calm down.

He looks at your trembling form and fights the desire to kiss you. He knows that he can, you won’t be able to do anything against it – but he wants you to like him, wants you to be as into him as he is. If he wants his proposal to be perfect, you have to like him – so he gently rocks your body from side to side, allowing you to cry on his shoulder.

You feel terrible – dirty even, weak, afraid of what else might happen with you while you can barely control yourself. Thoughts of what might happen if Tomas had his way flooded your brain – but the gentle hands on your back supported you, warming you up. Your head is still dizzy when you drink water that he bringed, cold liquid helps you a little. You feel his hands on your body, as he takes off your dress – you try to panic, to cling onto your clothes, but he is too strong, too large, too…

He moves you to your couch, placing you on the sheets softly.

He is tucking your blanket over your body and opens the window for better ventilation.

He roams through your medkit and places Ibuprofen and a glass of water on your bed stand.

He moves his body slightly so he can kiss your lips – not even caring that you are not exactly in the best condition for kisses.

You fall asleep right when he moves you to the side again and closes the door behind him.

König can only thank your intoxicated state that you didn’t even notice how he took your underwear when he undressed you – a small prize for his help, no? Perhaps, the only thing that can keep his hands off your adorable, precious body.

He should start looking for rings already. (Comments and asks are appreciated. Tell me what you liked about this work!!) ---------------------------------TAG LIST--------------------------------- @shigbby @honeeybeezzz @herefornanami-s-cake @pendalikespasta @lucylou302 @yxllowtxpe @sunbathed-sweetgrass @sarah-ardini @teenagegever2k22 @lastwordsofadyingstar @lavenderskye29 @karrotsforyou @inlovewithcodmen @onegami @keithehe @lilahbunny @ameneminimo @beepyboopbop @ms-munchkin @dinonacho @undeadgod @dizeesstuff @mingkiiii @midwesternwitchery @yxllowtxpe @flammenwerferpanzerkampfhund @keithehe @iytatsworld @r02eg0ld @cumikering @ysljoon @m1ndbrand @captain-heebie-jeebie @bluenredndeath

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #konig mw2 #cod #konig x reader #reader insert #yandere cod #yandere konig #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you

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catt-leya · 10 months

Note

for the smutty may : 17 and 40 from the new prompt list👉👈🥺 smt with a size kink and rick going feral but seeing the reader nervous he just has this need to calm them down and assure her 💞 some praise here and there😩😩 <3

Pretend (all 8k words of it) || Rick Grimes 18+

Like I promised the whole edited stuff...I feel like I rushed through the acutal smut part but I just feel that the story is more about the "pretendig" than the acutal smut 💗

Delayed Smutty May 19/05

Summary: Rick is tying to save you from being raped by pretending to fuck you.

Prompts: Is it gonna fit?, I'll make it fit.

Warnings: darker content, oral fixation, dirty talk, chocking (?) mention of rape (not Rick being the sick dude doing it) and my usual smutty stuff

"Put her down," the pretty blue-eyed one stares coldly into the eyes of the guy who grabbed you.

The guy with the vise arms grumbles, "Oh come on. There's more than enough of her for all of us."

"I told you to put her down," you can tell he's reluctant, but the guy lets go of you and shoves you in the handsome man's direction.

Interesting to note that the vise arm is significantly larger than the handsome one, but as you turn around to face the guy again, you can see that he is actually afraid of the guy with the blue eyes.

Which, of course, now makes you wonder why.

How bad does he have to be for a beefy guy to duck his head and mutter, "Whatever."

Smiling gratefully, you turn to your savior, "Thank you. He certainly would have-"

"Shut up and come with me," his voice gives no room for argument.

When you don't move, he hisses, "Either walk yourself or I'll throw you over my shoulder and just take you with me."

Your eyes dart to his hands.

He's not holding a gun or an axe in his hands to threaten you, but your head is screaming for you to do what he asks because you could do a lot worse if you don't.

Hesitantly, you walk up to him and ask uncertainly, "What are you going to do?"

As you come within his reach, he grabs you by the hand and drags you behind him, away from the others.

This handsome man and his group of men attacked you and before you could save yourself, you were grabbed by the men.

You are not stupid and you know exactly what is in store for you. Especially because the group of the blue-eyed one is an all-male group.

However you imagined this man could be your savior is now completely forgotten as he shoves you behind a brick shack and stands up in front of you, "You need to be loud."

Your lower lip begins to tremble, "Loud?"

He looks down your body, "Yeah, you're pretty, so it makes sense to everyone that I want you for myself."

The first tears leave your eyes, "Please let me go."

At the last word, your voice breaks and the man in front of you sighs softly, "I can't."

Now it's not just your bottom lip that's trembling, no, pure fear floods your body and you shake all over, "Please."

"What's your name?" he keeps his voice low and soft and you tearfully bring out your name.

"I'm Rick and I'm not going to touch you, so please don't be afraid of me," he says it so lightly, but you don't believe a word he says.

Even as he lets go of your arm and takes a small step backwards, "I'd like to help you, but in order to do that you'll have to pretend I'm forcing myself on you."

You wipe your tears from your face, which are quickly replaced by new ones, and sniffle, "Is this some twisted tactic now to make you feel like you're not raping me?"

He sighs and puts his head back, "I know you're scared, but I swear I won't hurt you. As long as you stay with me no one will hurt you. But for that, they must think I have unequivocally laid claim to you. So you can choose if you want to pretend to fuck me or if you want to go to Jack to really get fucked."

Silently, you stare at this Rick.

You remain tense and ready to fight back with everything you've got, but irritatingly, you have some faith in him, so you say quietly, "Okay, I'll stay with you. What do I have to do?"

He looks relieved and nods once quickly, "I need your panties and before you think again that it's a twisted way to get into your pants. No it isn't. It's a trophy I need for the others to believe me."

Surprisingly, you don't object and murmur softly in a tear-choked voice, "Turn around, please."

"I won't turn my back on you. I can only promise you not to look down," again his voice is so velvety soft it gives you goosebumps.

Slowly you nod and reach down.

Motionless he stares into your eyes and you have to give him credit that he really doesn't lower his eyes even once.

Only when you hand him your pink lace panties does he look at your legs covered by a pair of short jeans: "I want you to moan and scream. Pretend I'm fucking you. Pretend I've got your face pressed against the wall and I'm sinking my cock so deep inside you that tomorrow you won't be able to walk."

With your mouth open, you stare at him and he hisses, "Go."

The fact is, his words have embarrassingly turned you on a bit and you take a few seconds to realize what you're doing.

Eyes fixed on your lacy panties in his hand, you groan softly and he hums, "Louder. The others need to be able to hear you."

Again you groan, but he shakes his head. You're still too quiet.

He takes a step toward you and rams his fist into the wall next to your head and you cry out.

"That's it," his praise relaxes you and you stare at him with huge eyes as you moan loudly, "Please."

Rick nods and exclaims, "You dirty whore, want it that way."

You moan and realize how close he still is in front of you.

So incredibly close.

"Rick," your voice is getting rougher now and he looks down at your lips: "Take it all."

He moves closer to you, "Fucking good girl."

His chest brushes your shoulder and you whimper, which in turn makes him murmur, "Louder..."

Rick's body radiates so much heat that you push closer to him and he growls, "Imagine me pressing you against the wall with my whole body. You could barely move while I fuck you."

Your body trembles and this time it's not out of fear.

"I'd put my lips to your neck and mark you to show everyone you're my property while you spill over your thighs like a good girl," now he shields you completely with his body and with each breath your breasts press against his torso.

He leans forward until his lips graze your ear and he teases you in a low voice, "You're too quiet. The others will be wondering why you're not screaming."

His curls tickle your cheek as he lifts his head again, "But I already know how we're going to solve that problem."

Before you realize what's happening, he lifts his hand to your face and places his thumb on your bottom lip, pulling it down. Slowly, you open your lips and notice the heat rising into your cheeks.

You are so incredibly hot and yet you are shivering all over.

The tip of your tongue brushes the tip of his finger and he murmurs, "Dirty girl."

Then he raises his second hand and unceremoniously pushes your pink panties into your mouth.

Your surprised cry is muffled and he leans forward again, "You look pretty with your panties in your mouth."

You completely freeze as he presses his upper body tighter against you, "When we're about to join the others you'll stay close to me the whole time and I mean it. Even if you want to go pee, I'll come with you. If you disappear alone I can't promise you that one of the others won't find you and you'll have to suck a dick. You won't say anything but "Yes, Rick" and "No, Rick" and if I want something from you, you do it without question. Got it?"

Broad and tall he stands in front of you and even though a little voice in your head tells you he'll 'save you' you're still intimidated and nod with tears in your eyes.

Your panties in your mouth are degrading and the wetter the fabric gets in your mouth, the wetter you get between your legs.

Again he raises a hand and you visibly flinch, "Shhh, remember, I'm not going to hurt you."

With huge eyes, you stare into his blue eyes as he places his hand in your hair and gently tousles it. You realize he wants you to look like fresh sex as he reaches into his thick curls as well, and when he's done, they fall deep into his eyes.

Still shaking all over, he grabs your arm with a sigh, "It's probably not even that bad that you're still so scared of me. It makes it more believable."

He pulls you up next to him and you stumble along beside him as he walks up to his friends.

You feel the greedy stares of the men on you and press yourself against the lesser evil next to you.

"Had to shut her up, huh?", Jack, the guy who wanted you at the beginning, grins at Rick, but Rick just drags you to a big tree.

Rick leans over your shoulder so that his gray beard scratches your neck: "You don't talk to anyone about the fact that I didn't touch you and now sit down on the floor like a good girl and wait until I come back to you. If someone should approach you, call for me. That's all, okay? I will stay within earshot. Just call my name and don't say another word."

You nod and he pushes you to the ground.

There's something inside you against giving in to him, but in some twisted way, you trust him.

Trust him so much that you don't say a word as he pulls your panties out of your mouth and stuffs them into his pants pocket, "I'll be right back. Remember what I said."

You nod, but he doesn't even see it anymore because he's already turning his back on you and walking to his colleagues.

At least, you think they're his colleagues.

Your eyes are glued to Rick's back so you don't lose sight of him in case you need him.

The whole situation has escalated so quickly that you've barely had time to think straight.

Until now.

With your eyes firmly fixed on your 'savior', you try to think about how the hell you're going to get out of here.

The fact is, you trust Rick to some degree.

He hasn't touched you in a lewd way, and he hasn't left you at the mercy of the other guys.

Still, you can't stay here forever and trust Rick to keep his dick in his pants.

"Well, sweetie," you jerk your head around to the sleazy guy at your side.

He bends low over you and saliva flies into your face as he purrs kinkily, "I bet I can fuck you better than that stud. Come on, let's get out into the woods and I'll show you."

He reaches out for you and you flinch, calling out hoarsely, "Rick?"

Your voice isn't loud, but not 5 seconds later, he's standing by you and you stare at him as he juts his chin and looks the guy coldly in the eye, "She's mine and you know it. I. Don't. Share."

Still looking at you, the spitter says, "Don't act like that. She can easily handle another cock."

Rick takes a step forward, shielding you like this, "That's my pussy. Mine alone. I'm not going to stuff my dick in something that had yours in it and if you try I'll rip your balls off and then you can have a go at taking something that's mine."

You make yourself as small as you can, but Rick blindly grabs your shoulder and drags you to your feet.

He pulls you roughly in front of him and grabs one of your titts, "Whose are you?"

Your heart hammers way too fast in your chest and you mumble anxiously, "Yours."

With his hand he squeezes tighter and with tears in your eyes you repeat, "I'm yours, Rick."

The guy stares at your chest, which Rick is clutching, then snorts, "I get it."

With one last look at your terrified face, he shrugs and then turns around, once he's a few feet away from you, Rick lets go of your chest and mumbles a soft, "I'm sorry. Really."

You're shaking all over, and oddly enough, his chest, pressing against your back, reassures you, "I had to do that, or he wouldn't have let go. Of course I don't own you and I'm sorry I had to touch you like that."

You take a deep breath and he asks softly, "Do you want me to let you go-"

"No!" your voice almost rolls over and a couple of the guys turn to look at you.

With Rick, no one will hurt you.

With Rick around, you'll be fine.

Panicked, you cling to his arms to make sure he doesn't leave you alone again.

He has to stay.

"Okay, okay," gently he pulls you to him and slides down the tree you were leaning against earlier with you between his legs.

Your little body seems so fragile in the way you cling to him, and it breaks his heart,

Granted, you are beautiful and that is why he wanted you, but he is not sick and would never force himself on you.

He's counting the days until he can rip everyone's head off.

Just not yet.

Now he has to play along.

His warm body presses against yours and at that moment you don't care if it's a sick game on his part to get you into bed after all, because you just want to close your eyes and forget that it's really happening right now.

You take a deep breath and ask softly, "Do you swear not to hurt me if I sleep now?"

Gently, Rick presses you closer to his body, "I swear to you."

Slowly you let yourself sink further against him and murmur ashamedly, "You're staying with me, aren't you? Until I wake up? Don't leave me alone."

You sound whiny, but sleeping is a damn vulnerable position to put yourself in, and you can only pray that Rick really won't hurt you then, and that he'll protect you from the others.

Sleeping while the other men are just waiting to yank your pants off your hips seems impossible, so you sigh in relief as Rick growls, "I'll stay with you. If I have to leave, I'll wake you."

You nod and lean your head against his shoulder, squinting your eyes.

He's not going to hurt you.

He won't hurt you.

He won't.

Rick stares at you for what seems like an eternity, until your breathing calms and he's sure you're asleep, before he leans his head against the tree himself and lets his eyes slide through the group of men.

He will slaughter them all.

A hand gently pulls at your hair and you hear a deep voice, "I have to get up."

Grumbling, you press harder against the heat source and squeeze your eyes shut only tighter.

The underground lifts a little languidly, "You can sleep later."

Then it comes back to you.

You remember what happened and where you are.

Immediately you tear your eyes open and push away from Rick, who smiles slightly at you, "There you go."

You stare at him.

He must have just woken up because his dark curls are sticking out in all directions and his blue eyes are beaming tiredly at you.

Damn, why does he have to be so handsome?

His looks obviously bring him advantages.

If only for the fact that you like to let him touch you, as you are doing now.

You don't flinch as he leans toward you and pulls you back against him.

He doesn't seem bothered and wants to treat you respectfully, but by the way he looks at you from under his lashes, makes you give in and let him pull you against his chest.

"I thought you had to get up," your voice is rough because you're still so tired and you wince as he laughs harshly, "Changed my mind."

Still you are between his legs, as you fell asleep yesterday, staring at his chest that rises and falls regularly.

The fact is that he hasn't moved an inch and has spent the whole night leaning against the tree, while also allowing you to abuse him as a pillow.

There is a comfortable silence between you and him and at that moment you realize that nothing is stirring in your camp.

Confused, you look up at Rick, "Why is everyone still asleep when you have to get up already?"

One of his hands is on your hip, squeezing gently as he reaches with the other to smooth his hair, "Why are you so curious?"

Rick pushes his hair back, but it immediately springs back to its previous place and without much thought, you raise your hand and reach into his curls yourself.

Surprised, he blinks at you and drops his own hand as you fix his hair, "Well, if you're waking me up in the middle of the night because you really need to get up, I do wonder what the reason could be."

His soft curls slip through your fingers and you tug lightly as you pull out a leaf.

"I need to meet with someone," Rick's voice deepens as he speaks more quietly.

You push his hair behind his ears in one last motion and then nod slowly, "Okay, but take me with you."

So you sit up in a way that disengages you from him, he still keeps his hand on your hip and somehow you don't mind.

"Why?" his question is logical.

Why would he take a stranger with him?

But you wonder who he wants to talk to, so you tell the truth: "It may be that my people skills are completely crap, but I have a feeling you don't fit in with the guys here at all. I'm not stupid and I can see that they're scared of you, but I'm pretty sure it's not because you're brutal towards women. So I'd like to know what you're doing because I kind of trust you and actually would hate to sit here separated from you until you come back or one of those bastards rapes me."

Dumbly he stares at you and you pull a face, "Please? I'll also do exactly what you want me to do and shut up, of course."

For a moment he still says nothing and when you already think he's really going to leave you here he sighs softly, "Fine, you can come with me."

Smiling broadly at him, you push yourself to your feet and stand up.

From above, you look down at him as he grumbles and ponderously stands up, and curiously you ask, "How old are you, anyway?"

Immediately his eyes dart back to you before he turns and leads you deeper into the forest: "Old enough to be your father."

Stumbling, you jog behind him and reach for his hand in the darkness, "Is Rick your real name?"

He doesn't pull his hand from yours and instead slips his fingers through yours, "Yes."

His hand is large and warm in yours, "Is it a short form? For Richard?"

Rick sighs, "Didn't you say you wouldn't talk?"

"When we get to your meeting place. Soooooo?" your voice is soft.

Gently he pulls you closer to his side as he dodges a branch, "No. Just Rick."

Your hip brushes his leg and you smile broadly at him, "The name suits you."

There's silence for a moment, then he sighs, "Okay, you've got my attention. Why does the name suit me?"

You can barely see his face in the darkness, but you look at him anyway, "Oh, I just couldn't imagine a soft and melodic name with you. You're...too hard."

His soft laugh fills the forest, "I'm hard?"

Immediately, a blush rises to your face as you realize what he's alluding to.

Gently, he pulls you closer to him again and squeezes your hand, "So? I thought you wanted to talk to me. Don't you want to tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

You keep quiet about the fact that you're thinking about his cock, even though you imagine he knows what you're thinking about, or he wouldn't emphasize it so much.

He lets go of your hand and puts his arm around your shoulder. You know he's teasing you and wants to tease you, but you suddenly feel boiling hot and bite your lower lip, "Why are the others afraid of you?"

Rick is pleasantly warm beside you, "Why aren't you?"

Good question.

Why aren't you afraid of him?

Respect? Yes.

But you're actually not afraid.

You don't mind him touching you and you have to admit that you even like feeling his hands on your body.

"Don't avoid my question," you tug on his jacket and he sighs, "Yeah, okay. I've had to do some things to survive so far. As have we all. But it seems like what I've done is probably pretty scary."

You absently slide your cold hands under his jacket hem and he winces.

He's so ridiculously warm that you sigh softly, "What did you do?"

His stomach feels tight and flat under your palms, and you can't believe he's letting you do this to him.

He remains silent, then says in a low voice, "I bit out their former leaders' throat and gutted another one of them alive."

You trip over your own legs and Rick stops to catch you and you pull your hands from his body, "You what?!"

Cocking your head, you look up at him and he tilts his head, "I bit his throat out and spit the piece on the ground while he bled out at my feet and yet I'm a better man than the group I'm with. Yes, I have massive amounts of blood on my hands, but I can proudly say you actually have nothing to fear."

Blinking, he lowers his gaze and leans forward so that his lips graze your ear, "I won't hurt you."

You freeze as he leans in even further and you feel his teeth against your neck, "Do you know how pretty you are?"

The jump in subject is so huge that your brain can barely keep up and all you can feel is his lips on your skin.

His body is so close to you that you realize again how much taller Rick actually is and when he reaches for your wrist and clasps it in his big hand, you whimper softly.

Not from pain, but from pure excitement.

Just being near him makes you so ridiculously hot that your voice is all husky, "Your meeting."

Gently he walks towards you and you take a step back.

"He can wait," and he takes another step toward you and you back away again.

His fingers still encircle your wrist, but you make no move to pull away from him either. Instead, you let him push you up against a tree and stare up at him.

He lifts his head and looks down at you.

Nothing more.

He just looks at you, and in the dim light breaking through the trees, his eyes seem unnatural.

It's completely silent around you and the only thing you hear is his quiet breathing.

Slowly you lower your gaze, because you can't look him in the eyes all the way through, and let your gaze glide over his neck and broad shoulders.

You feel him staring at you as you look at his chest and stomach.

He is a handsome man.

That's clear.

Slowly, he releases his fingers from your wrist and slides them through your fingers again, "Come."

Completely perplexed, you let him pull you further through the forest.

You could have sworn he would kiss you.

Wouldn't pretend, but would really put his lips on yours and you would have let him.

He pulls you through a bush and then you're at a road and across from you you see a guy pacing back and forth, "Where have you been?"

Rick pulls you to his side, "I got a little distracted."

You try to make out the guy with the raspy voice a little better in the dim light.

His longer hair brushes his shoulders as he lowers his head a bit and looks at you, "Who is she?"

The two men speak as if you're not there, but as you promised, you shut up and grit your teeth as Rick growls, "She insisted on coming along."

The guy with the long hair raises an eyebrow, "And you couldn't just say no and leave her behind?"

You tense up and Rick squeezes your hand, "She would have run after me."

Now you feel like a dog, but he's not wrong either.

The guy finally looks at you and then rolls his eyes, "Dude, you could be her father."

Rick snorts, "It's not like that, Daryl."

This Daryl throws an arm in the air, "Of course it's like that. You can't sell me that you don't want to fuck that girl."

Stiffly, Rick takes a step toward Daryl, but you're quicker, digging a finger into the long-haired ass's chest, "I can take a lot of shit. For my sake, you can talk over my head like I'm not even there, but I swear I'll rip your dick off if you even mention whose dick I let inside me and whose I don't one more time."

Dumbly staring at you, Rick chuckles softly behind you, "See? I didn't stand a chance."

Slowly, Daryl takes a step back and grumbles, "Fine by me."

He shoulders the crossbow you're only now seeing and asks quietly, "How's it going?"

Rick removes his hand from yours and steps around you, "Slow as hell, but I should be able to get it in a few days."

You look up at him and cross your arms, "What do you want to get done?"

"You'll see when the time comes," Rick's eyes flash and you grit your teeth. Of course, he wouldn't tell you what he wants to do.

For a few minutes the two men talk and you have no idea what they're talking about when Rick finally murmurs to you, "We've got to get back or they'll start wondering where we are."

Sure enough, the sun has risen in the meantime and Daryl slowly backs up, "I'll be back in two days."

Rick gives him a slight nod and grabs my hand, "Come on."

He pulls me back into the woods and I look back over my shoulder at Daryl who disappears into the woods on the other side, "You're actually with another group, aren't you?"

Rick growls in agreement and you squeeze his hand, "Knew you are."

You notice how tense Rick is as he mutters, "I'm sure the others noticed we weren't there."

He lowers his head and pulls you back against a tree.

Unresisting, you let him push you against the tree a second time in a short time, and he sighs, "We've been out too long."

You bite your lower lip and dare to ask him directly, "Then why don't we just get out of here. Take me with you and let's go."

Rick shakes his head, "I can't."

You look at him questioningly, but he just shakes his head and then puts it to the side a little, "Come on." He points to his neck and you stare at him, completely perplexed, "Huh?"

You have no idea what he wants from you and he rolls his eyes with a sigh, like you're slow on the uptake, "Give me a hickey, sweetheart."

'Sweetheart'.

That's the pet name he gives you and you like it.

Maybe you took a liking to him.

"Why?" your voice is low and weak and he growls, "Proof."

His bright eyes bore into yours and you nod, "Okay."

You stand on your tiptoes and place your lips on his neck.

On the spot between his neck and throat.

Tears well up in your eyes as you start to nibble on his skin.

Not because it's so bad, but more because you're a bit ashamed of how much you enjoy putting your lips on his body.

Gently, he places his hand on your back to pull you closer to him and murmurs harshly, "Good girl."

Your breasts are pressed against his chest and with tears on your cheeks you whimper against his skin.

He feels the tears land on his skin and his heart tightens, "I'm going to get you out of here soon."

You suck on his neck one last time and then lick over the red glowing spot before looking into his eyes and he stares at you languidly, "You even look pretty when you cry."

You blink and he presses you against a tree with his body, "So beautiful."

His body against yours feels so good and you lick over your slightly swollen lips as you look briefly at his neck and murmur, "You think I'm pretty?"

"Fuck, yeah," he stares at your lips and you're afraid your heart is going to jump out of your chest.

Yes, he pushes you against the tree and constricts you, but otherwise he doesn't hurt you.

He wouldn't touch you.

His beautiful eyes bore into yours and you feel the need to lean forward again and press your lips to his collarbone.

He's so strong and so damn manly that you press your legs together and lick your lips again, "One hickey will do?"

His eyes flash and he takes a deep breath, "What do you want?"

So many possibilities.

Endless possibilities.

The thought of him giving you almost anything you want crosses your mind and you swallow hard, "Kiss me."

Slowly he leans in and growls, "I shouldn't. We're just pretending."

With a pout, you bat your eyelashes and press closer to him, "Pretending?"

His nose brushes your cheek, "Hmhm.."

As a few leaves rattle, Rick flinches and lets his gaze wander to see if anyone is watching you, but you lift your hands and place them on his cheeks to turn his face back to you.

You've never touched him so intimately before.

It's intimate in a different way than his hand on your titts.

His gaze softens and you pull his face closer to yours, "If you want, you can pretend to kiss me."

His breath hits your lips as he breathes, "Sweetheart."

"Please," you lean forward yourself to join your lips.

He flinches but applies pressure into the kiss himself.

Your fingers slide through his beard and he moans harshly into the kiss.

He's warm and hard and when he presses his leg between your legs, you gasp against his lips.

It's bold and direct, but not overbearing.

Gently, he pushes your head back a little and that gives him the opportunity to kiss you deeper.

So much deeper.

His tongue is in your mouth and you can taste him.

Can taste the mint leaves he chewed earlier.

He puts one hand low on your hip and the other slips a few inches under your shirt as he hums at your mouth, "I'm not taking advantage of you. We're just pretending."

His hand feels rough on your soft skin and you reach for his waistband.

Immediately, he releases his lips from yours and murmurs, "We don't have to do this."

Rick is a good man, you're sure of it by now.

You have no idea what he's doing among all the assholes, but he's not one.

Frozen, he doesn't resist as you unfasten his belt and undo the button, "Rick, I want you."

And you don't want to just pretend he's fucking you.

His blue eyes dart over your face, "Aren't you afraid of me?"

Gently, you lean further into his touch and kiss his jaw, "No, and I don't want a show either. I want it to be real."

Your hand slides into his pants and he gasps hoarsely.

His cock is hard in his pants and so fucking big, "Do you want me?"

Your little hand closes tighter around his cock and his brain shuts down, "Fuck yeah."

It's been ages since he's been inside a woman and he's probably never wanted anyone as much as he wants you.

He presses his hips harder against you, not giving a thought to whether or not he's smothering you with his body.

His movements become frantic and needy.

He pushes your hands aside and grabs your pants.

It's all happening so fast.

One moment you're asking him if he even wants you, and the next you're standing half naked in front of him, with a big cock wedged between your bodies.

Your confidence disappears with each twitch of his cock and you look up at him nervously, "Is it gonna fit?"

Rick bites his lower lip and stares at his twitching cock against your belly, "I'll make it fit."

You wince and immediately he looks you in the eye again.

Your whole body tenses and the wild look he was giving you before softens, "Are you nervous, sweetheart? When was the last time you had a cock in your pussy?"

Briefly your eyes dart back to his cock, "It's been a while...and it's never been this big either. Rick, I'm small...I don't know if you can push into me."

Gently, he puts a finger to your chin and lifts it a little before kissing you softly, "That's okay. I'll go real slow and if you want me to stop, I'll do it without you having to explain yourself."

Lasciviously, he leans even closer and murmurs hoarsely against your ear, "And your pussy is made to take cocks inside you. Most of all, your pussy is made to swallow my cock."

Your knees go weak and all you can do is nod.

His cock is so hard against your belly, you start rubbing against him pathetically.

Panting, he presses against you even harder and you slide your belly up and down his cock as you grab his upper arms and whimper, "Please, Rick."

Breathing heavily, he leans forward and presses his lips to yours.

His beard scrapes across your chin and your movements become more choppy and needy as Rick slips his tongue between your teeth and you groan hoarsely.

His cock twitches between you and he growls into your mouth, "Fuck, you're so pretty."

Hectically, you nod and kiss him harder as he pulls his hips back slightly and instead of his knee, slides his cock between your legs.

The length of his shaft slides lengthwise through your labia and feels so good against your clit that you bite his lower lip hard and your body trembles.

Without thinking, you rub against his cock and with each moan he hears from you he rewards you with, "Good girl. So needy for me."

Shamelessly you press your breasts against him and he murmurs, "That's it."

Purposefully, he pulls back his cock, glistening with your wetness, and then adjusts it so that it presses against your wet pussy entrance and you throw your head back into your neck.

His broad tip pushes an inch inside you and your whole body tenses.

He's too big.

Without you having to say it, Rick knows and slides his lips to your ear, "I'm not going to hurt you. Just relax and let it happen. Just let me take you."

Gasping, he presses a little further into you, widening you so much that you can barely see straight.

All your senses are focused solely on the stretching that Rick's thick cock is causing inside you.

Trembling, you try to relax, "Rick."

Your voice is rough and far too fragile, but as he gives you more of himself his name is lost in a moan and he gasps, "Oh holy shit, you're tight."

It feels to him like you're crushing him and he has to pull himself together to keep from slamming his cock into your tight cunt in one thrust.

With circular motions you try to lower your hips further onto him, again teasing your clit that pulses between your legs and literally screams for Rick.

You barely notice as Rick lifts his hand and reaches for your neck.

He presses the back of your head against the tree and looks at you from under heavy lids, "You're going to take every inch, right?"

"Yes, Rick," your voice is a gasp as he presses further into you.

He kisses you on the cheek, "That's my pretty girl."

Almost languidly he pushes himself into you inch by inch and you squirm and moan his name over and over until he growls, "Oh fuck," and is up to his balls in your cunt.

You can't manage another sentence and just mumble, "Full. So full."

He fills you completely and nods at your words, "Shhh, I know."

His thumb glides over your pounding pulse and then your jaw.

Quickly, you turn your head a little to the side and grab his thumb.

Gently, you suck it into your mouth and feel Rick wince and move inside you.

Sucking on his thumb while his cock is inside you feels dirty, but it also turns you on and you animate him to finally move inside your pussy and give you both what you desperately want and need.

Rick stares at your mouth as he pulls his hips back and then thrusts into you again, "You like the dirty stuff, huh? Like it when I use you."

Your eyes roll into the back of your head and he hisses, "You want to be mine."

You groan.

He feels good.

Too good.

With each thrust his cock rubs against your clit and trembling you get closer to your climax.

With each thrust he comes closer to his climax.

He presses his thumb flat on your tongue, "Make me cum inside you. I want to mark you."

You gag slightly and nod.

Hard he rams his hips against you and you can barely think as the knot loosens in your stomach and you squint your eyes.

You tighten around him and Rick moans, "That's my girl. Perfect little pussy."

With one final thrust, he presses his whole body against your small body and pulls his thumb out of your mouth to kiss you hard as his cock twitches and pulses inside you.

You cling to Rick and whimper into his mouth, "So good."

"I know," his voice is low and his accent heavy.

Slowly he pulls out of you and with him you feel his cum drip out of you down your thighs.

You feel dirty.

And so fucking hot.

Snorting, he rests his forehead against yours, "We really need to get back."

"Yeah," neither of you move.

Rick searches your gaze: "I'll get you out of here as fast as I can. I promise."

You nod and in silent agreement you get dressed and you follow Rick back to the camp and the people you met him with, not knowing why he's even with them or what his plan is.

Taglist: @hail-yourselves @bean-is-reading @chanlvr2 @criminalwalkingsupernatural @sunshinevirus @toxic-ink @kingtwhiddleston @bloodycherry22 @vane28282 @bamslover @revesephemeres @emo-potato-virgil @mrsashleybarnes18-blog @starsaroundmyscxrss @starkstiless @easystreet07 @darylsonlylove @your-shifting-gurl @strnqer @dreamtofus @lincolnswidow@rickswh0r3 @iluvdixon @sinsandsweetness @beekassyy@blazemm98 @littlelovingideas @eternalrose81 @stickyfaceinternet

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes smut #twd #rick grimes imagine #twd x reader #the walking dead #request #andrew lincoln

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yeen-meteor · 7 months

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I want to take a moment to try to express why i appreciate Haru's sadism as an actual serious part of her characterization and not just a funny contrast joke and 'yay girl violence!' don't get me wrong i love me some yay girl violence for the sake of it, but like. i think there's a lot to work with there for genuine drama writing, too, not just comic relief and i want to talk about it! (cw sugimura)

for all of haru's backstory and her life with her father, sure she's rich and has a lot of privileges, but the one thing she completely lacks is any sort of control. Everything about her life is being decided for her, her father has decided on the shape of her entire future, and she can't do anything to change it - she's being raised just for the sake of being outright sold as a sex slave trophy wife to a perverted creep who is certainly too rich and powerful to ever face legal trouble for marital rape. She's going through the motions, enjoying what she can of the life she has while she still has it, completely hopeless in the face of this horrifying future that other people are forcing her into. Her will means nothing, what she wants means nothing.

And then the Phantom Thieves come along, and they give her the power to make her will matter, to fight for her own freedom and happiness. And that power comes in the shape of violence, physically fighting images of all the things and people standing in her way.

But more than that, she starts to feel 'shivers of excitement' when she hears shadows begging and pleading beneath her. She feels what it's like to have something absolutely, pathetically desperate to make her stop, to deny her what she wants - and to bask in the feeling that she doesn't have to listen, she's the strong one, she can shut them the fuck up with an axe through the skull because their will, their selfish desire, their plan for her doesn't matter anymore, her will, Haru's will matters. It's catharsis, it's intoxicating, it's a rich and indulgent feeling of real actual control and the freedom that comes with it, something she's been denied all her life, and it's probably an unhealthy way to get that feeling but who cares? these are just shadows!

And that catharsis and relief and self-assured confidence she gets from that just makes her better able to be her sweetest, kindest, purest self around the people she loves! It doesn't undermine the sweet person she is, it helps it!

And then, she makes the choice to try to cure her father's brain-rotting greed and see if there's anything worth salvaging in his heart. It might not be the best choice, it could certainly be argued about, but it's her choice, it's her will, and she finally, finally feels like she's able to make that mean something-

and Akechi takes the choice away from her, and forces her to live in the future he decided for her.

I think when people write the dynamic between Akechi and Haru, they can sometimes miss the forest for the trees - 'you killed my father', without the underlying 'this was the first time i believed i ever had a choice in my own life, and you took it away from me and fucking crushed it before my eyes'. I've also seen it done very well too, and I love it! but i think a lot of writers are sleeping on the potential a bit, of haru & akechi focused stories, or even of haru as a source of drama and an interesting supporting character in shuake stories. In general, haru's potential for anger, frustration, violent desires and just a need to feel in control of her own life has a lot of potential in drama writing!

Atlus certainly dropped the ball on the akechi and haru dynamic, and kept the sadism thing as mostly comic relief, but Persona canons are all half-realized outlines of good ideas just begging for fic writers to come and actually flesh them out, anyway, so ah well!

all i hope for is that if you're a persona writer that doesn't know what to do with haru or how to use her, or doesn't pay her much mind, maybe this might inspire you or give you a clearer idea of how to write her dramatic side!

#persona 5 #haru okumura #goro akechi #i love haru so much because i also had a guro phase and a learned helplessness trauma phase at the same time lmao #send me good haru drama if you know of it or write it! <3

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autolenaphilia · 1 year

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I’ve recently seen some The Rocky Horror Picture Show discourse. And like people are questioning if Rocky Horror is transmisogynistic. Of course it does. Dr. Frank-N-Furter is intentionally a transmisogynistic villain. That’s the point.

It’s intended as ironic of course, as deliberate camp. The musical is intended as a parody of old sci-fi and horror movies, mixed with a camp drag aesthetic inspired by the contemporary glam rock movement. The mad scientist villains in the movies being parodied were often queer-coded, and vaguely effeminate.

So to parody that, Frank-n-Furter goes far beyond the queer-coding, and is outrageously effeminate and evil. He rapes people, kills them with an axe and serves them for dinner and force-fems them to take part in his climactic stage show. He is a Frankenstein parody, who literally makes an artificial man in order to fuck him (a joke about Frankenstein I’ve seen on tumblr). And does it all while wearing stockings, a bustier and heavy make-up. He is deliberately the ultimate evil man in a dress trope, referencing Psycho and all effeminate mad scientists in media.

That Frank-N-Furter isn’t explicitly a trans woman doesn’t matter. The musical deliberately blurs the line. The line “I’m just a sweet transvestite, from Transsexual, Transylvania” is like a perfect encapsulation of how horror movies treat transfemininity. “Men in dresses” (transvestites) trans women (transsexual) and a symbol of predatory horror movie villainy (Transylvania) are all conflated, making a pun of out how they all begin with “trans”.

Of course, it’s intended to be ironic. It’s a parody of queer-coded villainy in old horror movies by turning it up to eleven, so that you can’t take it seriously. The whole movie has this drag show camp aesthetic that it celebrates, and the supposed representatives of heteronormativity, Brad and Janet are turned in the end. Frank-N-Furter becomes a symbol of a hedonistic queer liberation “Give yourself over to absolute pleasure.. Don’t dream it, be it.”

This is the clear intent of Rocky Horror, and it’s how it became a “queer classic”. Does it work? I’ll admit that I enjoy the movie version. The glam rock aesthetic is fun, the songs are catchy, and they keep coming at a quick pace. A lot of it is admittedly that I love the old horror and sci-fi movies it’s parodying, so my cultural touchstones are similar. I’m the kind of person to get a thrill out of knowing that Frank-N-Furter at one point uses the exact same prop that Peter Cushing used in the second Hammer Frankenstein movie.

That is a different question however from how well it succeeds at subverting the transmisogynistic tropes it handles. Even in the most sympathetic possible account of the musical, it’s doing the equivalent of handling live grenades. Is it the creators tropes to subvert in the first place? Is it the fans?

Let’s talk about Rocky Horror’s creator, Richard O’Brien. He is certainly a weird and contradictory person, he identifies as a third gender and “70% male and 30% female“, and is using estrogen. So arguably he is a transfem enby and thus transmisogyny-affected. But he’s also a transmisogynist who doesn’t believe trans women are “real women”.( I would like to know what exact percentage of “female” as a transfem person turns you into a bad fake trans woman.)

Of course the important thing about O’Brien is that he is rich. He is in a vastly different class position than the majority of transfems. So while he may be taking estrogen and living as a third gender, he is simultaneously isolated by his own wealth from the effects of the transmisogyny he bolsters in the media (see Caitlyn Jenner for another example of a wealthy transfem doing the same thing).

And O’Brien is rich because Rocky Horror is a huge success. The stage show has seen tons of productions, the original ran for 7 years in the West End, and the movie is a slow but certain money maker, with probably the longest theatrical run out of any movie in history. He is swimming in residuals.

This raises the more interesting question of Rocky Horror’s position in the wider culture, and it’s status as “queer media”. It’s a movie which is just not passively watched but celebrated and performed by its fandom. People show up in cosplay to showings, “shadow casts” perform while the movie plays. And of course the original stage musical is still performed.

So we have to ask ourselves, what are people performing? And who is performing it? And I’ve already answered the former question earlier. Rocky Horror is largely an ironic performance of transmisogyny. And the fact is, the majority of people doing that performance are not the main targets of transmisogyny. They are largely TME cishet, queer and trans people. It’s “ironic” transmisogyny to be sure, I think most fans of Rocky Horror who have any understanding of what it is doing view Frank-N-Furter as the true hero of the show. But is it really their thing to be ironic about? Are transmisogyny-exempt people really the people who should reclaim with irony and camp transmisogynistic tropes in horror media? I don’t think so, and that’s why there is so much resentment about Rocky Horror from transfems. And it’s creator doesn’t help, because while he’s arguably transfem, he also spreads transmisogyny in the media.

It illustrates a lot of things, for example how imprecise “queer” is as a description of people. It’s an umbrella term, and does group together people who have much in common. But it also erases the material differences within the community. Queer people aren’t all equally oppressed.

So Rocky Horror status as queer media, as a campy celebration of queerness and parody of anti-queer tropes in genre films is kinda grating. Because it enables TME queer people to perform and celebrate Rocky Horror, because they are queer and it’s about “queerness”, when there are specifically transmisogynistic tropes parodied in the musical. It isn’t really their place to do so.

It appropriates specific transmisogynistic tropes in the media by thoughtlessly subsuming it into the general anti-queerness which it is part of.

Of course there are transfems who got to explore their gender at Rocky Horror showings. But I think the reason they did that is because mtf crossdressing is accepted as part of a camp ironic performance in such a context. It makes it feel safer to perform femininity in public, because you can backtrack and say it’s purely ironic. That’s no different from the comedy crossdressing in American Halloween parties, and I think we can all agree those are often transmisogynistic.

And of course, Rocky Horror is an example of how cis men can perform femininity, and get celebrated for it in mainstream society, while escaping the effects of transmisogyny that transfems experience, and in fact often furthering that transmisogyny. It’s often a (negative) performance of transfemininity, in which actual transfems play no part and are mocked.

Tim Curry is a very good example. He made his career from playing Frank-N-Furter, and he probably couldn’t have done that if he was actually transfem, and not just crossdressing for an ironic performance on stage and screen. Like I don’t have anything against him in particular, quite the opposite, he’s one of my favourite actors, love him in everything from Clue to Muppet Treasure Island to Gabriel Knight. My objection is to the patriarchal and transmisogynistic system that favors cishet men like him.

Speaking of crossdressing on stage, the drag culture which Rocky Horror is inspired by of course has a complex history. It’s deeply rooted in both African-American and queer culture, and transfems have played major roles in drag. But Rocky Horror is if anything even an appropriation of drag culture. It represents drag’s commercialization and recuperation into the mainstream. It took drag out of the gay bars being raided by the police and onto the more respectable West End stage, making a lot of money in the process.

Rocky Horror beyond any qualities it has as a stage and film musical, due to its popularity represents a lot of complex issues. It’s important to queer culture, but it also represents the commercialization and recuperation of queer drag into the cishet mainstream. And within the queer community, it is a shining example of how TME queers can appropriate specifically transfem struggles as their own. It shows how cis men can gain wealth and fame performing transmisogynistic caricatures (even if they are ironic and don’t mean it).

I’m not saying if you enjoy the musical that you should stop enjoying it. But maybe if you are TME, Dr Frank-N-Furter is not your “problematic queer icon” to reclaim.

#my writings #transmisogyny #the rocky horror picture show #the rocky horror show

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xoalin4-xota-linda · 3 months

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VIKING!NIKTO

I am so, so sorry this took so long. Haven’t been in the best mood lately and lost motivation to write. But I got a little baby birdie the other week, he is three weeks old now and I am in a better mood.

So here is the Viking!nikto hc (or half story, I don’t really know where I was going with this but I tried) Sorry if it isn’t how you hoped/would have liked.

WARNINGS: Non-con?/dub-con?/kidnapping/unwanted touching/murder/blood/mention of slavery?(They are Vikings after all)/mention of rape(not directed at ‘user’)/piv.

Again, deeply sorry it took so long. And forgive me if any mistakes in the writing

Nikto wasn’t a kind man, killed many too much people in times that wasn’t needed. But the king always forgave the violent Viking, he was a good fighter after all, he would be needed in raids or wars to come.

Despite his often violent actions, he was quite popular amongst the women. He had a good body, he was strong, a good fighter and he was decently good looking, and he was just really good with sex. So it wasn’t a surprise to know he had most likely fucked half the women in his village. After all, who is he to deny a woman that comes to him asking for some pleasure?

He often had sex to release some of his pent up anger which seemingly spawns out of nowhere, in a less violent way. He had a few acquaintances, he wouldn’t dare call them friends, he just tolerated them the most. So he was well known in his village for being a woman pleaser and a skilled fighter.

He enjoyed the attention— not all of it, he hated when too much attention was on him. He only wanted people to know who he was, what he has done, and fear him. Nothing more than that. But he didn’t mind the attention from the women, he loved that, and he thrived in it, knowing that he can always get a woman to let him pound his cock into.

That was until that one, fatal day. The day where he was no longer the same person— fuck, he didn’t even know who he was anymore. He could barely feel his hands that much anymore, his face felt stiff, the skin melted together in parts, burnt. His body littered in scars, burn marks from when they had thrown a torch onto him. His face, he doesn’t even want to look at it. Hates seeing it in the reflection in the lakes he cleans himself in, hated seeing the fact that his mouth was in a permanent snare.

He would do anything, take all the pain in the world, if it meant his face would be normal again. He doesn’t even know how he is alive, he swore he had died that day, he wishes he did, then maybe he would have been spared this life of pain and humiliation.

It’s funny how much scars can change someone, mentally and physically. He heard things, people, more than one, or is there just one? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what he wants anymore, the peace of death or the feeling of killing someone with his bare hands again, both sound pleasing.

He didn’t get much attention from women that much more, often times they looked disgusted or scared. It was funny in a way, how people easily give up on someone after their looks change. He can’t blame them tho, he would be disgusted too. The men didn’t seem to care that much for it, they seemed quite pleased in a way, they got more women after all.

So he wears a mask to cover his face, save him the humiliation. It was uncomfortable but he got used to it quickly, it put more weight onto his body as it was metal. But he felt comforted in a way, the mask was now his face, less gruelling, less hideous.

Kill, Kill, Kill. That was the only thing going through nikto’s mind, kill them all, his axe piercing through a man’s back as the pain had tried to run, blood pooling out of his mouth as he drops to the floor. Nikto chest rising fast and heavy, his eyes wide and pupils small in an almost animalistic way. He loved this, the blood, the screams, the horror of it all.

On to the next, another man dead, another life taken by nikto’s hands, or axe in other words. Blood splattered on his mask, hands and axe dripping with it, the ground red as screams go off around him. A raid, he loved them, loved destruction, loved the fear in the people’s eyes as Vikings raid their land, taking the women and some of men to use as slaves, slaughtering the people that resided here.

Nikto wasn’t really into all the kidnapping shit, he was there for the death, none of the rape and slavery stuff. He wanted to kill people that’s all, that’s the only thing he is good at. But when he saw you, something changed in him, he completely forgot about the man he was currently killing, his axe logged into the man’s side as the man cries in pain on the ground. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, you were.. beautiful. Okay, maybe not the number one beautifulest person, but on the Gods you were the beautifulest he has seen.

You were different, instead of crying and pleading on your knees like the other women, you had a knife in your hand, stabbing it into the neck of one of his village buddies who was trying to grab you. I mean, sure, he has seen women kill in his village, a lot actually, a couple were in on the raids. But it was different coming from you, you dressed differently from the women in this village he was raiding, you looked odd compared to the other women.

You were trying to protect yourself and get out of the village, but the other people that were running were in your way. He never found the idea of taking a woman for himself that pleasing, he used to get them all the time, but that was years ago, when he actually had looks. But Gods be dammed if he was going to let this opportunity go. Taking his axe and logging it through the man’s skull, shutting him up.

Walking over to you, his eyes locked onto your form and yours only, pushing some of the people out of the way, he needed to get to you, it was as if his body willed him to do that and that only. He watched as you saw him at the last second, turning around and trying to stab him. But completely failed as he snatched your wrist, he picked you up hoisted your body over his shoulder, as if you weighed nothing. You didn’t! Not much to him anyway, you were easy to carry. If he ignored your squirming around and your fists hitting his back that is.

Oh, oh you were perfect, perfect for him, if only you would stop screaming and crying that is. He is going to give you a good life, back at his small house tucked away in the trees, away from the village, but in his home. A little trophy you were, a feisty one that is, but hey, he always liked a bit of a challenge.

Tho he hadn’t anticipated the fact that you wouldn’t be used to the weather in his village, it was almost winter, and soon snow would cover every part of ground. Back where he had saved you kidnapped you you didn’t have snow, you had cold weathers but not this cold. You were freezing your ass off, teeth chattering and fingers numb.

Nikto and his horrible ability to look after anything that is alive, he forgot to get you extra clothes for your small, weak body. You had gotten sick within the first week. And now nikto had to go back to the village and try to get some herbs and thicker clothes to keep you warm, he wouldn’t want his slave to die just yet.

Thankfully he had managed to help you over your sickness, getting you back to health. Tho, that is where the problems started. He kept his house warm, gave you thick clothes and even offered to help you warm up (tired to have sex with you). He fed you, decently enough. He kept you warm, gave you a house to live in, didnt try and force himself on you yet. didn’t give you your own bed sadly, you had to share one with him. But other than that, he had given you everything you could have possibly needed!

So this is how you repay him, by smashing the leg of the wooden chair that was in his house over his head when he had came through the front door. Using the fact he had stumbled over and grabbed the back of his head in pain as your advantage, and running out the door. Stupid thing to do.

A man like him only had so much patience, and he just happens to have little of it. But he had tried to be patient with you, he was slow with everything, didn’t go overboard with touching you, even tho he wanted nothing more then to stuff his fat cock into your cunt the moment he saw you.

So why did you have to run? Had he not given you enough stuff to keep you here? Had he done something wrong? Possibly not! He saved you from that stinky village you were in, saved you from working at that farm, around shit and mud. Given you a home to do nothing, no work, nothing but to please him in.

So why?

He had asked himself as he trailed after you, did you really think you could get away from him? Or were you just stupid? He could see your footprints in the show, trailing out into the forest. His head was bleeding, making his shirt become dark coloured, and he felt a bit dizzy. You had a strong hit, that was for sure, left a painful ache in his head. He couldn’t let you get away with that, no, not after everything he has done for you.

It was easy to find you, well you gave him a bit of trouble, you had gotten pretty far in the amount of time you left, farther then he thought you would make it. But he knew the forest well, knew where everything was, knew where to look, so it didn’t take him long.

You had run though the cold forest, the snow slowing you down a bit, luckily it wasn’t that thick, because holy fuck it was hard to run in it. You were panting, lips turning blue and face stinging, it was freezing and the wind didn’t help. You didn’t even know where you were running, but you didn’t care, as long as it got you away from that lunatics place.

Did he really think you were going to stay there? Think you were going to fold and bend over for him since he gave you food and clothes? By the Gods no, absolutely not. You couldn’t even understand him! Only the simple words he knew how to say so you would understand, ‘eat’ ‘sleep’ ‘stay’ and a couple others.

You hated it there, he was creepy and old, a stinky old man! That is what he was, forcing you to lay in the same bed as him, wrapping his arms around you so you are immobilised and unable to move. Having to feel his strong chest up against your back, breathe against your shoulder as it passed through the mask he wore. Hands occasionally moving to touch your thighs or to straight up grope your tits

Not to mention when he baths you, he was kind enough to warm the water by boiling it but that wasn’t the point! You had tried to argue with him, tried to tell him to get out of the room or to turn around so he wouldn’t see you. Which he definitely understood what you meant but didn’t care, forcing you into the wooden tub, naked and exposed. Luckily you had managed to convince him to let you clean yourself instead of him doing it.

Like hell you were going to stay in that place, he even had this weird dog looking thing— definitely wasn’t a dog. But you didn’t know what it was, but it was just as creepy and scary as him. And it stunk! Talk about being related to a mutt, no wonder they got along. But this wasn’t the time to think of that, you had to run, get away remember?

Yes, that is what you were supposed to do, run, escape and never return to that maniacs hut. You weren’t supposed to feel a hand grab the back of your neck, nor being thrown into the snowy ground as a tall figure stands over you. This wasn’t how it’s supposed to go! Why can’t the Gods give you at least some luck? Did you upset them with something? Because you would beg and plead for how ever many years it’ll take if it meant they’ll spare you from the absolute, horrifying glare this man is sending you.

He was pissed, no, more than that, the man looked like he was about to rip you apart limb to limb. You wanted to take back what you did— say that you’ll be good and please him if it meant he wouldn’t drag you back by your hair and chain you up outside his place like you were a dog, out in the freezing snow with noting back a thin, stinky, dress. You really do wish you hadn’t done that, should have waited longer maybe, when he wasn’t in the house.

But no, now you were suffering the consequences. At least he didn’t beat you to death like you half expected he would have done when he had dragged you back, tho you half wish he would if it meant he wouldn’t leave you outside for hours in the snow until it felt like your limbs were about to fall off.

You were so, so cold, lips bluish purple, hands numb and you could barley feel your feet! His house was mere feet away, but you couldn’t get to it, the chain around your neck keeping you tired down to a wooden stake outside. Your eyes half lidded and you felt as if this was your end, you time had finally come. At least you would get to see your family again, because you doubt they managed to escape the Vikings.

But just as you felt like you were going to pass out, your light in shining armour came out, your kidnapper. You don’t know if you should feel thankful or wish you were left out there for longer. But he had brought you inside, put you into the tub of heated water and made sure you didn’t drown in it as he surprisingly gently bathed you and got you warm. The room was warm, the fire which had warmed up the pots of water keeping the hut lighted and warm.

You didn’t fight him, you couldn’t even, you were too cold, but slowly the warmth was coming back into your body. He had taken you out, dried you, and Brought you to the bed he shared with you. You still felt cold tho, the warm bath didn’t warm deep inside you unfortunately. But don’t worry, he’ll help with that, he’ll make sure you are very, very warm.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t THAT rough, he didn’t tear at your skin and eat you alive like you imagined him too. His hands running along your body, groping at your breasts even as you whimpered and protested, but still too weak to push him away. He looked like a feral beast right now, or just a horny old man. Shoulders rising and falling fast, heavy breathing, eyes wide and pupils dilated, bare hands gripping your thighs as he shuffled between them.

He had such rough hands, and the top part of his pinkie finger missing on his right hand along with dints and burn marks along his large hands. He looked like he didn’t know what to do for a second— had it really been that long since the man got some pussy? Yes, seven years since the the man only used his hand.

He was even shaking! A bulge in his pants, fuck, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was drooling underneath that mask of his. He didn’t take it off, and part of you is glad, you didn’t particularly want to see the face of the man who had literally kidnapped you and forced you to live in his home, and now was about to fuck you to help you get warm, after he had locked you outside.

You were scared, terrified honestly, afraid of what this man was going to do to your poor pussy, what this VIKING was going to do to your poor pussy. You had had sex before, with a few village boys back In your home but they were all your age, immature boys who didn’t really know what to do. You didn’t know if he was going to be brutal with it or not, if he would leave your pussy ruined and aching in pain. He was a Viking after all, and from what you read, all of them are rough, cruel, and nasty.

But you didn’t have much time to think about it, because his hand was already down there, spreading your lips to him with his index and middle finger, his other hand holding your waist to keep you put as you tried to squirm away. A cry of— pain? Pleasure? Leaving your lips as a finger thrusted onto you, stretching your walls which left you gripping the fur of the bed. It hurt slightly, the stretch, but at the same time felt slightly good. But then he added two more, which stretched you wider and made you cry out as they thrusted in and out of you. Preparing you, not forcing himself inside like a desperate mutt.

But it wasn’t long until you got the full thing, you hated to admit it, but he was fucking good. Tears rolling down your cheeks as your legs wrapped tighter around his thick hips, his fat cock plunging deep inside your sopping pussy. He was big, a thick and decently long cock, and it was.. how do you say it in the most pleasant way— it was half burnt. Simple as that, a scratchy feeling to it as it slid along your walls, it wasn’t unpleasant, it heightened the experience for you actually! It felt good, and he was hitting all the right places.

You doubt he could feel that side of it tho, but he still felt the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, that was obvious by the way he was panting and groaning into your neck like a dog on heat. Rutting up into your cunt over and over and OVER again. You were so tight, warm, fuck you were perfect for him, you felt so good. A pretty little thing you were, even tho you were a fucking brat and had basically tried to kill him earlier. He would forgive you for that, as this was the perfect apology you could give him, even tho he had taken it forcefully from you.

But you were enjoying it, you were moaning loudly and had tears of pleasure rolling down your cheeks. Your hands clawing at his back, leaving scratch marks down his already heavily scarred back. But he would be lying if he didn’t enjoy it, because he did, it felt absolutely fucking delicious to him.

He wish he wasn’t in wearing his mask right now, so he could take one of your bouncing breasts into his mouth, or even to kiss you to shut your moans up. But that will have to be for another time, he wasn’t ready just yet, he wasn’t sure if he would ever be. But he isn’t going to dwell on it that much, not when he had a pretty feisty little lady to fuck his kids into.

By the end of the night, you were definitely warmed up, wrapped in the arms of a large, sweaty man who practically clings to your body. Hands groping your tits as his masked face lays against the back of your neck, the feeling of his semen still leaking out of your swollen, aching cunt. He did leave it aching in the end, but at least it wasn’t in pain.

Ok, I might have gone overboard with it. It honestly wasn’t supposed to be this long, lmao.

Sorry if this was shit, I tried, and took fucking forever to make, I’ll take all the blame for that😔

Please tell me if it’s shit or not and if there is another warning I should put in because I missed something. Thank you for reading of you got this far🙏

#call of duty #call of duty hc #cod nikto #nikto #call of duty nikto #nikto x reader #x reader #Viking!nikto #Vikings #Viking nikto #Viking!nikto x reader #sorry if this is shit #hc #headcanons #I think it’s headcanons #non-con #kidnapping #unwanted touching

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