Astrid Hakansson (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} sassy_valkyrie) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} heureuxlake,@ 2024-06-13 14:15:00 |
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| Entry tags: | Δ complete, Δ threads, → astrid hakansson, → rick allen, ∞ 2000: 03, ◦ hollow hill tavern |
RP: Just keep 'em coming [BACKDATED]
Who: Astrid & Rick
What: Being a Valkyrie is hard and Astrid wants to forget
When: 30. March 2000, late night [Backdated]
Where: Hollow Hill Tavern
Warnings: Child abuse, death, alcohol - for starters
Completion Status: Complete
The rune had appeared to her a little past ten last night, just as she had returned to her apartment, making it an early night, since she had an 8 o’clock client in the morning. That wasn’t going to happen, since at the earliest she wouldn’t be back here until noon the following day. Astrid had sent off the pre-written text for just this kind of situation, on her way to her balcony with her swan cloak in hand.
Closing her eyes, she mentally prepared herself for what was about to happen, knowing that she never would ever truly be able to do just that. She felt the cloak expand, covering her arms with long, sturdy feathers meant for flight, encasing her body in the white armor that would protect her from attacks. In her right hand, her spear of light materialized. Hating the fact, that even this had only taken a couple of seconds, she wouldn’t be able to make it in time to save the endangered life she was being summoned to witness ending. Spreading her arms, she took off into the night, following the rune that only she could see, hoping that the death at least was a worthy one, that she would be able to honor a hero whose death would mean that someone else would be spared.
The girl was on the lawn behind a small suburban house – a distant descendant of Máni, the moon – and Astrid’s heart broke. She couldn’t be older than thirteen, her face bruised and battered, her arm bent at an unnatural angle. There were bruises on her neck clearly marking where two large hands had held on tight and squeezed. There was still a flutter of life in her. The paramedics were working furiously, trying desperately to catch that tiny spark and fan it into a full flame of life.
The police officers were marching off a man in his forties. His knuckles bleeding and his roaring voice yelling about how the meddling bitch had deserved everything that came to her, that she had no right interfering with how he dealt with his real children. The children, she guessed, were the once she could see through the window, two of them, looking young enough to only just have started school. The boy’s cheek was red and swollen, his nose bleeding and his little sister was clinging to his arm, her wide, frightened eyes puffy from crying.
Astrid looked back to the girl on the grass, searching to see the weapon she knew had to be there. She stepped to the side, to get a better look, as the paramedics started to shake their heads and the girl’s spark rapidly faded. There, in her right hand. What once must have been a glass figurine, was now a broken shard buried in the palm of the girl’s right hand.
Closing her eyes, Astrid drew a deep breath, banishing anything that even hinted at her not being able to bear this. In a moment, she would be dealing with battered teenager, who had given her life to protect her siblings. She drew in a deep breath, and as she exhaled, she opened her eyes to see the girl get to her feet, and step away from her dead body.
The girl looked at Astrid.
“Are you an angel?” she asked her, and Astrid shook her head.
“You made your ancestors proud. I’m here to take you to them.”
At first the girl looked confused, then nodded and went into Astrid’s open arms. Astrid folded her arms around the girl, and with a push of her feet, she took off from the ground, carrying the girl with the Aesir ancestry to the majestic hall of Valhalla.
As was custom, Astrid stayed in Valhalla for the feast that night. She flew to and from, keeping a smile on her face and engaging in banter with the Einherjar, as she brought the meat from Sæhrímnir and mead from the udder of Heiðrún. She served, she drank, she ate, and she fought, for the time being pushing aside the fact, that the battlefield where heroes were found, were hardly ever the same kind of battlefields that had produced them a millennium ago.
The sun was beginning to set when she returned to her apartment. Putting down her spear of light, she let her swan cloak shrink back into its smaller form. With each feather that disappeared, each button unbuttoned, and each strap unstrapped from her armor, the despair over what she had witnessed came back to her. Could she have stayed in Valhalla indefinitely, keeping the thoughts at bay that way? Sure! But she didn’t want to. Valhalla was Aesir. Her mother was Vanir. And Astrid? She was from Midgard, from Earth. That was where she belonged. It was where her life was.
She could forget there, too.
Showered and dressed Astrid pushed the door to Hollow Hill Tavern open and made her way to the bar. She needed a drink that wasn’t sweet and perfect like the honeyed mead she had drank the night before, and then she needed to find someone who could take her mind off everything for an hour or more in a way that didn’t include weapons.
Astrid pushed herself up on one the barstools and signaled for the bartender that she was ready to order.
It wasn't the busiest Saturday night, but Rick was behind the bar, dutifully pouring drinks and flirting with the patrons, as he'd done a few nights a week for the past few weeks, proving to Lysette that she'd not made a mistake in taking a chance on the cocky man who'd decided to audition for a job on a whim without actually needing said job.
Being in such a richly supernatural community was something new for Rick, but he was starting to think he was getting a feel for the different vibes of the various natures. The woman who walked into the bar and came right up to the counter was one whose nature he couldn't seem to pinpoint, aside from definitely not all human. But what caught his attention more was the air clouding around her, the 'fuck everything' energy that he was sure he was feeling. He could be wrong; it had happened before.
Setting the empty glasses he'd just cleaned up from one end of the bar in the dirty tray to take to the back when he had a chance, Rick turned his attention fully to her, his eyes dark with interest, the barest hint of a smirk on his lips. "What can I get you?" he asked her.
Astrid’s eyes followed the bartender as he moved behind the bar. She had seen him there once or twice, perhaps, but she was fairly certain he was new. Not a bad addition, though she couldn’t pinpoint what he was, just that he was something. Of course, fucking hot was something, too, and those eyes? Well, she could have easily picked something worse to look at tonight.
“Anything single malt,” she told him, not really caring as long as it was efficient and not sweet.
There was something in the way she was looking at him, something in her tone that his nearly five centuries of existence had plenty of experience to identify. This was a woman dealing with something, and her fierce desire to forget was so strong he'd have to be an idiot to miss it. He wasn't the sort of bartender who quibbled over an imprecise order, and single malt gave him plenty of direction.
Setting a lowball glass on the counter, he grabbed a bottle of Macallan from a higher shelf and poured her a double. Sliding the glass over to her, he said, "First round's on me." She hadn't indicated a budget, and Macallan was far from inexpensive. He wasn't in the job for the money; he could afford it, and if it made her more intrigued in him, as he already was in her, then all the better.
With a small, amused snort, Astrid quirked an eyebrow at him. “First round?” she asked him, taking a healthy swig from the glass, savoring the way it burned down her throat. She could pay for her own drinks, but she wasn’t stupid enough to turn one down, especially when offered like this. “How much to just keep ‘em coming?” She considered that for a moment. “Or what else would you recommend?”
He raised his own brow at her first question, though he stayed quiet. His patience was rewarded when her next two questions came soon after, and he chuckled softly. "Of the Macallan?" He named the price of the bottle, which with the markup was over a couple hundred dollars. "But if you're not planning to savor it, I'd go with the Glenmorangie. Scottish, surprisingly smooth, and only three dollars a shot," he suggested.
Rick wasn't generally a cautious man, and he wasn't about to tell her to pace herself, but he did wonder what it might be she was running away from, and if she might be interested in a little more help than alcohol could give. He would give it a bit of time, feel her out as he finished his shift, he thought.
Pursing her lips in contemplation, Astrid nodded before she shrugged. “Would seem like a waste of perfectly good whisky, wouldn’t it?” Even though she could afford it, there really was no reason to just pour it down her throat. Then again, as she swallowed the last bit of her drink, she did savor it, though it didn’t change her mind. “Let’s go with something cheaper, then,” she agreed, looking up to meet his eyes. “Though I’m not looking for anything smooth or sweet.” Something that pertained not just to her drinks tonight, but to anything else that might happen, though whether he took it as such, she would leave up to him.
“Just… get me drunk, yeah?” It was stupid, even she knew that, to simply put her trust in this bartender whom she didn’t even know, but she just didn’t care. Should anything unpleasant happen, well, it wasn’t like unpleasantness and regular violence weren’t everywhere anyway, and there was not a gods damned thing she could do about it. Nothing.
"Indeed," he agreed simply. He wasn't inclined to go full well whiskey, just because his own tastes ran more refined than that, but if she wasn't in the mood for smooth or sweet, that just might be where he ended up. For now, he poured her a single of the Glenmorangie; it might be smooth, but it definitely wasn't sweet.
Leaning his forearms on the bar, he offered her smirk that was just this side of wicked. "I can do a whole lot more than get you drunk," he told her. "But I prefer my partners conscious, so I'll keep 'em coming, but try to stay conscious, yeah?" And if she threw her new drink in his face for the presumption, it wouldn't be the first time, and he'd roll with it.
Mirroring the bartender’s stance, Astrid too leaned on her forearms, her smirk not quite as
wicked as his, though her eyes more than making up for that. “I can hold my liquor,” she told him plainly. She honestly didn’t know if it was a Norse- or demigod-thing or if she simply had been blessed with a stamina when it came to alcohol from nature’s side.
“What time do you get off?”
There was something in the way she said she could hold her liquor that made him believe her, and he knew all too well how quickly certain supernatural people could burn off alcohol. Rick glanced at the digital clock behind the bar at her question, then glanced around the bar, doing a quick mental calculation. "I think they can manage without me in about an hour," he answered. He wasn't in charge of closing duties, only a few weeks into the job, and the other bartender he was working with tonight would certainly be able to manage on his own.
"You'll have to make sure to tell me if I'm being too sweet," he said in a way that suggested it wouldn't be an issue at all. Due to his nature, he'd worked hard to shy away from outright violence, knowing that it could lead to very bad places, but there was something about getting a little rough, so long as it was consensual, that satisfied his demonic half while letting him keep his conscience clean.
Idly trailing her finger around the rim of the glass, she finally picked it up and knocked back half of the drink, before she nodded. This would do just fine, without making too much of a dent in her bank account. And as for the bartender? He would do just fine as well. “One hour,” she told him, and tapped the glass, indicating she’d like a refill, even if she hadn’t finished yet.
“Somehow I doubt sweet’ll be a problem tonight.” Astrid had no clue what he was, just that he was something - something she had already registered the moment she had first seen him - and that something she wasn’t sure necessarily was of what could be considered that good kind of something. Well, he wasn’t entirely bad either, considering he had bought her that first round of expensive whisky.
Picking the bottle up from where he'd stored it under the counter instead of back on the shelf, he topped off her drink, not batting an eye that she wanted more before finishing the one she had. It was part of why he'd given her a lowball glass rather than a shot glass.
"Astute woman," he commented lightly, approval in his tone. She didn't strike him as a woman with a praise kink (though those could be positively delightful to play with), but he did like to acknowledge such things anyway. Anticipation thrummed through him as he worked, pouring drinks for the few patrons who came up to the bar to order while making sure Astrid's glass never stayed empty for long.
What kind of rough would she want? He enjoyed wondering; he would enough finding out more, he rather thought.
About a half hour in, he slid an order of chicken tenders and fries in front of her–basic bar fare, and if she didn't want it, it wouldn't bother him, but he'd had a feeling that not thinking about whether she should order food would make her slightly more inclined to eat something while drinking so heavily, supernatural or not.
Astrid was starting to feel the drinks, not in a fall off her barstool kind of way, but a way that was making her shoulders relax back down where they belonged, and her attention more often than not, caught by the way the bartender’s jeans made his ass look. She didn’t know if it was a vibe she was giving off, or if he helped steer any of the other patrons away from her tonight, but whatever it was, it worked, and she was grateful for it.
She was also grateful for the plate of food that appeared in front of her, even if it made her need to blink her eyes to keep from tearing up, before she looked up at him. “You’re getting awfully close to sweet there,” she warned him, though still picked up one of the chicken tenders and took a bite, not even bothering to keep the satisfied hum to herself. Dammit, but if he wasn’t exactly what she needed tonight?
Rick chuckled at her warning, leaning over the bar so that his words were just for her. "Not that sweet. I put it on his tab," he said, nodding his head toward the rather loud, obviously drunk asshole playing pool on the other end of the room. He knew the type; the guy had racked up an impressive tab already and wasn't likely to even look it over before paying.
"But I'll still let you punish me later," he promised, wiggling his eyebrows at her, an unapologetic smirk on his lips.
Astrid looked at the man in question, her upper lip raising unconsciously in a bit of sneer. That guy had been an annoyance all evening, but she had managed to shut him out, until now. “Karmic justice doesn’t rule out you being sweet,” she mused, looking back to the blue, blue eyes of the bartender, and finished off her current piece of chicken, before chasing it with the rest of her drink.
“I don’t really care about punishment,,” she admitted, once again tapping her finger against her now empty glass. No, punishment was what the gods doled out, sometimes unfairly, these days mostly too little and to the wrong people. What she did was guard and collect. “Once we leave here, I just don’t want to think anymore. Your offer still valid?”
Oh yes, there was a lot going on in that head of hers, but Rick wasn't the type of bartender to play shrink (even if sometimes he was and didn't realize it). "I'll do my best to curb the impulse, then," he conceded with another soft chuckle.
"It is absolutely still valid," he confirmed. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey from under the bar and topped off her drink. Although he had the urge to promise her that she'd be a quivering mess of pleasure that would drown out any thoughts within an hour, he stifled it, thinking she was the type to appreciate show far more than tell.
“Much appreciated,” Astrid said with a nod, though she couldn’t manage to keep the appreciative smirk at bay at his concession. She really just needed to keep the sweet from interfering, because ‘sweet’ led to liking, and liking led to feeling, and she did not want to leave tonight feeling anything but satisfied and worried about tomorrow’s headache.
“Go serve people, I’ll… eat and enjoy the view,” she muttered, picking out one of the fries, making sure he saw her biting into it. The sooner he got done, the sooner they could get out of there, and the sooner she could stop worrying about why someone as vile as that man last night, was even allowed to live after what she had just witnessed. “Or something.”
His laughter continued to ring in the air as he walked away, enjoying the way she was enjoying the view. That surface level attraction was where he truly thrived, after all. The next half hour passed quickly, and he handed Astrid her tab to settle before letting his coworker know that he was taking off. Things had certainly tapered off enough that he would be fine closing up on his own.
Coming around the other side of the bar, he offered her his hand to lead her out. "Your place or mine?" he asked, though he wondered if his brand new housemates would bat an eye at him bringing a woman home. He had just moved in and was still feeling out the vibe with them. Ram was easy to read, Nate less so, but Cris was something of an enigma. And they were not where his mind wanted to be at the moment.
Settling the tab was quickly done, and Astrid made sure to include a suitable tip for the bartender who was currently coming towards her, and a bit better tip for the one who would be taking over from him.
“Mine,” she said simply, taking the offered hand as her descent from the barstool proved to her that the whisky she had had, had done its job well. She wasn’t drunk, exactly, but there was a nice soft feeling to the floor as they made their way to the door. When she had gone out tonight, she hadn’t really considered the logistics, though when presented with the option, she knew that at her apartment, there would be no interruptions, and she had no idea what… That stopped her for a moment, though she kept walking as he held the door for her. Not only didn’t she know his living situation, but there was also the small part about who he actually was.
“So, what do I call you?” she asked, trying to see if there was a cab she could flag down somewhere.
"You can call me Rick," he told her, his free hand fishing in his pocket for his keys, having no idea that she was thinking about taking a cab back to her place. He turned them toward the employee parking on the side of the bar and motioned toward his car, whose top was, unfortunately, up in deference to the still-cold and unpredictable weather. "I'm sure you can tell me where to go."
Trying to remember that he wasn't supposed to be sweet, he didn't get the car door for her, though he did walk her to it before going around to the driver's side. The drive to her apartment complex was relatively short, and once they were out of the car, he reached for her again, this time pulling her to him. Lifting one hand, he slid it under her hair, pushing up to grab a good fist of it and tugging to tip her head back. His lips took hers then, hard and demanding. They weren't inside yet, but he felt like rising to the challenge of proving that he wasn't sweet.
Astrid’s lips pursed in appreciation. Aside from great taste in jeans, Rick certainly had great taste when it came to cars. “Nice car,” she commented as she got in, not missing the fact that he had walked her to the door, but he hadn’t opened it. Point for Rick for at least trying not to be sweet.
The only warning she had was the look in his eyes as he turned her to him. That was all it really took for her not to see it as an attack, but instead yield to his strong hands and his hard kiss. She gasped into the kiss, her fingers tightening in his shirt, pulling herself flush against him as she rose to the tips of her toes, kissing him back, seeking more, seeking that blissful quiet that had hit her when he had first taken her lips.
It seemed he was on the right track when she gasped, throwing herself into the kiss after that seeming moment of surprise. She was so tiny, thin with narrow hips and subtle curves, and his other hand stroked over her back, down to grab her ass, holding her close. His lips moved over hers insistently, and then suddenly they were gone, traveling down her neck, his teeth grazing over her skin with a little more bite than he might normally use. Not enough to break the skin or even leave marks that would stick around more than the night, but hopefully enough that it would shoot pleasure through her.
"Your place," he reminded them both, his lips brushing over her skin as he spoke, his voice thick with need. He pulled back just enough to start walking them backward toward the sidewalk. He needed to get her inside so that he could get her naked.
“My place,” Astrid murmured, swallowing down as she tried to clear her head enough to find the right direction. Not moving away from him, but rather, turning in his arms, she pulled her keys from her purse, unlocking the front door to get them inside. From there it was only two
flights of stairs to her apartment on the second floor, though once she got on that first step of the stairs, she knew there was no going back.
Turning back around to face him, it was her fingers in his hair, and her making good use of the added height to kiss him hard, not caring how desperate she came off. She’d been open about that from the start, and from what she had heard in his voice, Rick wasn’t unaffected. “S’just up there,” she murmured into the kiss, trying to take that one step back that would take them just a little closer to her apartment.
Step taken, she found herself too far to reach him, and instead reached for his hand for him to follow.
Following her, Rick paced himself on the stairs so that neither of them ended up injured, which would be sure to sour the mood. The kisses were tantalizing, and it didn't bother him in the least that she might just be using him to forget whatever it was that was troubling her tonight.
Once they were in her apartment, he wasted no time in bringing his hands to her hips and pressing her back against her door, his lips taking hers in a searing kiss. Without breaking the kiss, his hands slid up between them, quickly working her shirt buttons open before tugging the fabric up and sliding it down her shoulders and arms. Nudging one leg between hers, he pressed closer, his teeth tugging on her lower lip.
Astrid tugged her hands free from her shirt, letting it drop to the floor, the cool, hard door against her back an exciting contrast to Rick’s warm, though surprisingly firm body. She arched against him, pressing wantonly against his thigh. Her tongue darted out, as her lip slipped from between his teeth, licking against his upper lip. Her fingers pulling at the back of his shirt - so, so soft! - nearly groaning when he had to break the kiss so she could pull it off over his head.
Giving herself just a moment to take in how her own lust was mirrored in his blue, blue eyes, she leaned in and bit nipping kisses across his chest.
She obviously didn't need any magical encouragement from him, but with the way she pressed down against his thigh, a tendril of lust escaped, stroking up against her own magical signature. Rick didn't bother to pull it back, thinking it could only help in her goal to not think. He tugged his shirt up and off quickly, discarding it negligently before intending to kiss her again.
Her lips scattering kisses across his chest kept him from that goal, but he was hardly complaining. He hummed, letting his hands stroke over her back, finding the clasp of her bra and releasing it in a smooth motion. "Want to see how many times I can make you come against this door until your legs give out?" he suggested, already eager to kneel before her and finish undressing her so that he could bury his face between her legs.
Something was caressing a part of her she had never been aware could be caressed. It was a small touch, nothing but a gentle stroke, yet it did nothing to soothe her desire, even less so for the man in front of her.
Leaning back against the door as he got her bra undone, she looked up at him, his suggestion making her practically purr. “Yeah,” she breathed, letting her bra slide off her arms and onto the floor somewhere off to the side. “Yeah.” Reaching up, she pulled his head back down for more of those kisses that had already proven how deliciously capable Rick was at keeping her mind blissfully off anything that had sent her drinking today.
Kissing, such a simple thing, was one of Rick's favorite things. Oh, certainly, he reveled in all levels of sexual contact, but there was something about kissing that managed to simultaneously arouse and settle him. It was like a ground to his energy, as if to say that, yes, of course this is what you were made for.
The desire to taste her took over, and he began working his way down her body, pausing to give her small, perky breasts the attention they deserved. Moving lower, he flicked open the front of her pants before tugging them down, not bothering to be slow and gentle with it. Her panties quickly followed.
Kneeling before her, he wasted no time in nudging one leg over his shoulder, tipping his chin up for his first full taste of her. He was not there to tease her, though, and he made no attempt to ease her into the pleasure, his mouth working over her with relentless purpose.
Astrid groaned with frustration when the kiss broke, though it was soon replaced with a content hum as Rick’s lips traveled down her body. She arched her back, pushing out her body to meet his lips. Her nipples felt almost painfully hard, but when his mouth closed around her breast, there was nothing painful about the jolt of pure pleasure that sparked to the apex of her thighs.
She threaded her fingers into his hair to keep her balance as she stepped out of her pants, nearly growling when it took longer than instantaneously. But then they were off and her leg was draped over Rick’s shoulder. “Goddesses…” Astrid moaned loudly, when his mouth so unerringly found her, his lips, his tongue, his suction making her head thump back against the door behind her. She pushed her hips against him, fingers clenching in his hair as that familiar throb was already beginning to dictate her rhythm.
Rick chuckled against her when he heard her invoke the Goddesses. He certainly wasn't going to stop to point out that he was far from that side of the divine coin, and he also knew how to take the compliment. He continued to work his mouth over her, and when he felt the pressure building in her, he eased a hand between her legs, slipping his thumb into her slick channel and bending it to find that little bundle of nerves that called out to him like a beacon.
He wanted to feel her come apart, and he wanted to show her how far she could push her body, just how much pleasure she could take.
A delightful lack of sense of time settled into her, as the pressure started building inside of her. Astrid had no idea if it was building slowly or rushing through her body, settling firmly low in her abdomen and continuously growing from everywhere he touched her. She gasped, his finger pressing against that part of her that made her toes curl against his bare back, her hips beginning to thrust to keep that pressure right there, and building. She could hear herself, her gasps becoming moans until it all broke and the amazing feeling of crystal clear pleasure allowed her nothing but exhaling as her body shuddered against him.
As her first orgasm crashed through her, Rick continued what he was doing, guiding her body through the waves of pleasure, dragging it out so she could keep riding through it. He'd been serious about making her come until her legs gave out. When it seemed as though her body was too used to that stimulation, he adjusted, sliding his thumb out of her and pushing his face deeper between his legs so that his long tongue could take the place of his thumb, his nose nudging her clit sporadically.
Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, that her body was finally releasing that intense pleasure so she could inhale again, Rick moved. This time it wasn’t the goddesses she invokes, at least Astrid was pretty certain she had reached a point beyond the ability to form coherent words. Instead, she breathed in as that minute ebb of pleasure made it possible, only barely managing to shift her hands to the back of his neck, before she felt it building again.
“Please,” she pleaded, not for him to stop, but for him to not, to not move, to just keep those touches, those sucks, those nudges… and then she was flying again. Keening loudly as the dam broke. She tightened her leg around his shoulder, trying to keep standing as her other leg began to shake under her, threatening to give in.
She was so close. Rick could feel the pleasure cresting incessantly over her, pulling her deeper, and he had no intention of stopping. He wasn't sure if it was because of his nature or because of the centuries of practice, but he had no problem breathing as he continued to pleasure her. His tongue fucked her, long and taut, flicking against that bundle of nerves, rewarding that single nearly desperate plea for the moment.
When the time felt right, his tongue slid out of her, his mouth finding her clit again, sucking hard on the sensitive bud while two fingers pumped up into her, sliding easily into that tight, wet channel.
Slowly, inch by inch, Astrid could feel her back slide down against the door as her leg began to give in. Determined not to make Rick stop, she stemmed hard against the floor, letting her strong thigh muscles hold her up.
But when his fingers pushed into her, giving her pelvic muscles a resistance to work with and he sucked hard on her clit, she knew it was a lost cause. Tightening her fingers in his hair, she pulled his head away from her, just before her leg gave in and she slid to the floor. The way her leg over his shoulder stretched made her tighten around his fingers, and for the third time, she cried out her orgasm leaned against her own front door.
He could feel her body slipping down the door, putting more of her scant weight on him, but he merely shifted, supporting her so that she wouldn't hurt herself as she fell further down the door. And when her leg gave out completely, he used his free hand to lift her lower body, shifting his own position back so that he could keep at it, though letting the intensity taper off.
When he felt the pleasure settling, he eased his hand and mouth away from her, turning his head to bite her thigh, chuckling warmly. His erection was thick and throbbing, desperate to break free of the confines of his jeans, reminding him that she'd specifically not wanted gentle. Standing up, he held his hand out to her, tugging her up as well before his hands went to her hips. He hoisted her up, flinging her upper body over his shoulder, one arm wrapped around her legs to hold her in place. His other hand smacked her ass as he glanced around the open layout of her studio apartment.
Crossing over to her bed, he tossed her rather unceremoniously on the surface, his hands going to the front of his jeans to divest himself of the rest of his clothes. "I'd very much like to fuck you now," he told her bluntly as he toed out of his shoes and dropped his jeans and boxers in quick succession.
“Oh!” Astrid moaned when Rick’s bite made her already shuddering body shiver with a small peak of pleasure, even as she was coming down. With an already quite satisfied laugh, and a desire to see what else Rick had to offer, she took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. She was about to lead him to her bed, when instead she found her flung onto his shoulder, and her surprised shriek became a genuine laugh as he smacked her ass.
“About time,” she told him, pushing herself further up onto her bed, her eyes hungrily gliding over his body as he got undressed. Reaching up to the shelf above her bed, she found the box of condoms she kept there and tossed it to him. “Non-negotiable,” she let him know, propping herself up on her elbows, as she drew up her knee, not just to make herself comfortable, but in invitation as well.
Astrid knew that as a Demigod, she wasn’t susceptible to STDs, however as a daughter of a goddess of fertility, she wasn’t going to take any chances when it came sex; she might be taking a daily pill, but she did not trust any crazy remnants from her divine parentage to respect that kind of hindrance. At least with a condom, there would be two hindrances to defeat.
Rick easily caught the box of condoms, plucking one out before tossing the box back to her. Of course he preferred the feel of bareback, but he would never begrudge a partner's desire for safety first. It wasn't as though he was going to tell anyone that his nature made it impossible for him to contract or spread STDs. He could get a woman pregnant, though he didn't know for sure if he ever had, and that could be a concern for Astrid, which meant he would use the condom.
Tearing the wrapper, he slid the rubber in place over his cock, and then he climbed onto her bed after her. One hand curled around her ankle, sliding up her bent leg to her hip, leaning over her to catch her lips in a heated kiss, wondering if she would balk at tasting herself on his lips.
When he pulled back from the kiss, he scooted back and grabbed her hips, flipping her over onto her stomach. His hands stroked over the backs of her thighs and her ass before lifting her hips up so she could get more comfortable up on her hands and knees. And then he slid his length into her still-slick channel in one quick, hard thrust.
Still keeping her eyes on him, she easily reached up her hand to catch the box, though rather than returning it to the shelf, she set it off to the side, not convinced they wouldn’t need it again later. Even in the darker part of her apartment, Rick’s eyes were stunningly blue, she noticed as he came closer. It seemed like a minor eternity before he finally leaned in and caught her in one of those kisses that had first made her aware of what he really could do. She smiled against his lips, licking and nipping at his upper lip enticed by the idea that she could taste herself there.
The way he flipped her, didn’t come as a complete surprise - maybe it had been something about the way he had looked at her, or the fact that she had continued to insist she didn’t want sweet. She easily followed his guiding hands, her back arching with each stroke, until she was fully presented to him.
She could feel him behind her, the hairs on his thighs scratched tickles against her ass a split second before he pushed hard into her, forcing a loud gasp from her. There was no pain, nothing but the satisfactory sensation of being filled so completely all at once. She pushed back against him, arching her back more, wanting him deeper, wanting him to move, rolling her hips to try and sate that want until he would give in to her.
Rick took only a moment to revel in the feel of being fully seated within her before her movements made him chuckle. One hand smacked her ass again. "Naughty woman," he accused, his tone full of approval.
He pressed his palm against the dip of her lower back, his other hand gripping her hip as he began thrusting, long deep strokes that brought him nearly all the way out of her before sinking fully into her, picking up speed with every thrust. Soon, both of his hands were gripping her hips, holding her where he wanted her, pounding into her hard and fast, his balls slapping against her clit that sent jolts of pleasure through him as much as he could feel it did through her.
His smack to her ass, though not exactly painful, did cause her to buck her hips and in doing so clench hard around him, making a hum at that short burst of pleasure. She didn’t care if it made her naughty or not - nor did it sound to be of any particular concern to him - but she just needed to feel him move.
And then he did. Her eyes fluttered closed, her head tilted back as Rick kept pushing hard breaths from her. His fingers were digging into her hips, a hard, dull contrast to the constant teasing tapping against her clit. She wanted to reach down and touch, wanted to keep those brief flashes of pressure constant, but she couldn’t move her arms, and didn't want to lose that support that kept her from falling over each time Rick thrust into her. “Oh gods,” she gasped, holding her breath as she clenched around him, seeking that friction, that tension that was reigniting that high she had barely come down from yet.
There was no right or wrong way to fuck, in Rick's opinion, beyond consent, but it wasn't that often that he was with someone who truly wanted things to edge on the rough side. It teased at something dark that he'd long ago locked away deep inside of him, though he wasn't quite at risk of it breaking free. Her pleasure was intense and enveloping, twisting up with his own as he pounded into her.
The image of her touching herself pushed into his mind, and he chuckled. His hands left her hips, stroking up her back. One fisted in her hair, pulling, while the other traveled back down and slipped around her body, his fingers flicking at her clit. The change in position meant his thrusts were not quite as fast, but still hard and deep.
Curiosity thrummed through him, and his hand left her hair, stroking back down to her ass. His thumb slid between her cheeks, testing without probing. "Do you like to be touched here?" he asked, pressing his thumb a little more firmly against the tight ring of muscles there, still not pushing into her, hoping she wouldn't be the sort to freak out and put a stop to things. He'd abandon the idea if she wasn't interested, but he also knew that the stimulation could give her the type of orgasm that could have her seeing stars.
For a split second, Astrid wondered if Rick was a mind reader - and if true mind readers even existed outside of the gods - when she felt his hand move between her legs. But then his fingers found her clit, and she couldn’t care less about mind readers in any shape, form or capacity. There was something so freeing about the way he held and pulled her hair; like she could let go completely without worry of disappearing. She moaned loudly, the way her neck was arched not allowing her to do anything but, when his fingers kept flicking in that perfect counterpoint to the feel of his balls against her.
The moment he let go of her hair, she let her head drop down, her hair cascading down like a curtain in front of her. She moved with his hand, her back arching, seeking that trail of fire he was leaving behind, pushing back to meet each of his thrusts. “Yeah,” she whimpered when she felt his thumb press against her, though it wasn’t anything she had ever specifically sought out. Except now… now Rick was pushing every single one of her buttons, combining his touches in ways that seemed designed to not just continuously push her to that edge, but constantly pushing her over. “Yes,” she tried again, more firmly when that one flick made her gasp. “Yes…”
His fingers continued to flick her clit even as his thrusts slowed, wanting her to really consider what he was offering, wanting her to want it. And he didn't have to wait long, that small whimper shooting through him like a bullet. Bringing his hand up, he sucked his thumb, coating it liberally with his saliva, knowing from experience that it would be plenty lubricating even if he were to use his cock instead of his hand.
Stilling deep inside her, he brought his hand back down, rubbing gentle circles over that tight ring of muscles, increasing the pressure with every revolution, and when she relaxed enough for the digit to slip inside her, Rick let out a shuddering breath. He sank his thumb deeper, splaying the rest of his fingers over her her lower back, and as he started moving again, he let his thumb fuck her in shallow thrusts that matched the rhythm of his hips. "So fucking tight. So sexy," he breathed, bending his thumb just a bit to seek out a particularly sensitive spot inside her.
When his finger began to rub gentle circles around her other entrance, Astrid’s body tensed momentarily. However, unlike his fucking, Rick’s touch now was careful, and she felt herself slowly relaxing into the sensation. Her initial tension gave way to an unexpected wave of pleasure as his finger pressed more insistently, finally slipping inside.
Astrid could feel her body shiver, that slight, pleasurable stretch, a feeling that was both unfamiliar and intensely exciting, and the way his finger so expertly kept flicking her clit making her gasp, longing to buck down to meet his fingers and push back to feel more of his thumb inside her. A gasp escaped her as he moved his thumb in sync with his hips. She arched her back, pushing against him, her body responding eagerly to this new sensation.
“Oh gods,” her voice was a mix of surprise and raw desire, when Rick did something with his finger that found a place of pleasure she had never been aware of before. “Please,” she begged him, wanting him to do that again, and he did and “Don’t stop.”
Her breath was coming in ragged gasps now, her body beginning to tremble with the intensity of it all. Her muscles tightened and released in waves, her hips pushing back to meet both his thrusts and the shallow movements of his finger. “Please, don’t stop,” she whispered. The new sensations had her spiraling, her body moving instinctively with his, every touch pushing her further into a state of bliss.
Another breathy chuckle, his fingers drumming over her lower back reassuringly. "I won't," he promised. As if his body would let him. Rick had no delusions about what he was, about what sustained him, and that he could make her feel incredible in the process was what drove him. His hands and cock worked together, thrusting and stroking in tandem, feeling the pleasure building in her as if it were his own.
Every thrust, every stroke felt like it was driving into his very being even as he drove into her. He needed to feel her come as much as he needed his next breath, and it showed in the way he sped up, his hand leaving her clit to curl around her hip in a tight grip. He had no more mind for words, though he reveled in her desperate little gasps and pleas, holding back his own pleasure until she tipped over the edge in hers.
The friction of his finger inside her, the drum of his fingers on her lower back, and the rhythmic thrusts of his hips sent powerful, tingling sensations throughout her body. Each movement seemed to echo through her, from the core of her being out to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her skin felt electrified, her body hyper-sensitive to every touch.
As the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak, Astrid’s mind was a whirlwind of sensation with a blissful absence of emotions. Her muscles tensed, her back arched more deeply as her climax approached, her breath hitching in anticipation.
And then it broke. A powerful wave of ecstasy that left her breathless and trembling as she pushed back against him, her body tensing up and clenching hard around him. Her body convulsed with pleasure in waves that kept rolling over her, finally leaving her feeling both exhausted and exhilarated. Her arms were trembling, threatening to give out under her, just like her legs had done by the door.
As Astrid reached climax and her body tightened around him, Rick kept moving what little he could, giving himself over to the feeling. He could have staved off his own release but saw no reason to, his seed filling the rubber in hot bursts. Sliding his thumb out of her, he pushed his hips flush against hers one more time, holding still for a long moment. Large hands rubbed halfway up her back before sliding back down in small circles, a little bit of massage to soothe himself as much as helping her relax back down from the intensity of her climax.
When his member began to deflate, he slipped out of her, sliding the condom off and easily finding her trash can in the open floorplan to dispose of it before crossing back to the bed. As he stretched out next to her, his hand found a stretch of skin and started rubbing again. "Feel free to kick me out at any point. Or not," he added with a warm chuckle. Not that he would stay long either way, certainly not past the night, but he wanted her to know it was her choice.
With a satisfyingly worn-out groan, Astrid eased herself down onto her mattress as Rick slipped out of her. There was a delicious sated feeling in every single muscle in her body and her mind was blissfully numb, bordering on quiet; exactly what she had hoped Rick could provide. And Rick had provided in spades. She barely registered him leaving her bed, though her body immediately reacted when he returned.
She knew what this was, she had no aspirations that this would be more than a one-night stand, though if it happened again, it would be because of those mind blowing orgasms he had promised and delivered. His warm body, though, stretched out beside her, was a temptation she couldn’t resist, so since he hadn’t left, she instead turned around and curled into his side. “M’not kicking you out,” she murmured, though was cut off by a deep yawn. “Just lock the door if you leave.” With that, she slipped a foot between his legs, making herself comfortable and moments later, she was fast asleep.