Dad who can't help but stalk his kiddos socials. Logging into the boys account, scrolling through all the pictures, groaning and feeling copious amounts of jealousy when he sees all the sweet and nasty comments his son gets and even makes. Fucking his fist as he scrolls and scrolls and scrolls. He can't help himself, as he imagines his baby boy fucking him into the mattress. Doing all the disgusting things he's typed out, making his own dad cry and wail. Oh god what is he doing? He can’t help himself.
But still, nothing was out there, not as far as you could see. Your thick muscles were still frozen in place as you picked your head down to eat out of your palm, feeling the warmth of the berries before you felt the heat of the blood.
Then came the pain.
✉️ hii everyone !! once again thank you for over 1k followers, i could kiss you all. here’s a long ask that i turned into a oneshot !! heavily inspired by the ask above AND august underground by ethel cain. this is another ask that got messed up, so i had to ss. im also still sick so definitely not my best work, but left room for a pt 2. i hope you enjoy u little freaks.
TAGS — 18+, au, NONCON, doe!reader, farmer!könig, breeding kink, smut, virgin!reader, unprotected sex, open ending, kidnapping(doenapping), hunting, dead-dove, 3k words
Fruit that hung so low, so ripe, should be free— not locked away.
What a crime it is to rip a creature from its own home. To take it from its natural environment, forcing its way of life to change, is a fundamental part of their being. In the wilderness, it’s all about the fundamentals, the essentials of life. Food, water, rest, breed. How do you change a mind that’s already been wired for survival, and not love?
You beat it into submission.
König had rules for these things. Starvation, isolation, and harsh hands. After came rewards, kind words, then comfort. The isolation part is easy; living up so far in the mountains provided so many benefits, but very few treasures. No pretty things to come wandering past his doorstep, nothing but the occasional bear, lost hikers, and tourists— nothing pretty nor plump enough for the taking. Winter time was even more lonely. Everything beautiful was killed off, replaced by thick white death. No one came around then, not even the birds.
Nothing soft should be made to suffer in such harsh conditions. Not a sweet little doe like you.
The morning it happened was no less than irregular. You weren’t supposed to be out in the freezing tundra, so easily spotted with your brown hair, a prime example to others— you just didn’t know it at the time. You poked through the forbidden fruit in the dead of the snow, brushing the fluff away from the lively shrub. A light in the dark, an end to your hunger. You poked around the spiked leaves, only there to defend themselves from scavengers like you. The little red berries shone like a beacon through the layers, round and full of juice as you squashed them against your tongue— probably the first bits of food you had in days.
You ate every berry on the bush, moving to the next one down the line once you couldn’t smell the potent fruit. It was like a miracle, something from your most hungry of dreams, the saviour of your stomach for the time being. You dug into the leaves face-first this time, already knowing what to expect, and you ate every nub off that bush as well— letting the watery juices mix and drool down your chin. Covering you in crimson, getting it all over your chest, jaw, looking like a wolf that just dug itself into one of your own.
In the silence of the snowfall fall you heard a tree branch snap, ears perking up, twitching with anxiety as it tried to find the source. Your head moved like it was on a swivel, taking in the barren white land, recounting trees and fallen branches. From all the snow, it just looked like a wasteland, no real monuments you could make out, no property line in sight. Safe, you reassured yourself. Nothing moved, no shadows, no nothing. Just you, and your skittish heart beating violently in your chest.
Your instincts told you to move— get outta here fast and don’t look back. Your stomach said something completely different, keeping you anchored to one spot, body swaying simply from how focused you were on eating. Too busy to worry about how steady you were on your feet.
Another click off in the distance made your ears pick up again, your body as still as a statue, only your head moving from side to side. Your eyes widened with adrenaline, getting ready to run this time. But still, nothing was out there, not as far as you could see. Your thick muscles were still frozen in place as you picked your head down to eat out of your palm, feeling the warmth of the berries before you felt the heat of the blood.
Then came the pain.
A deep, searing, ripping pain shot through your thigh just above your knee, incapacitating you with one hit— only what you could assume to be a bullet coming out the other end. Out of pure, generational bred instinct, you hit the ground full body, fingers flinging into the dirt like it may save you. The snow was an ice-cold kiss to the rest of your body, engulfing you in tremors and a new, tingling sensation. You could almost feel warm if you buried yourself under the packed, heavy snow. Almost.
That was where the torture started.
König had kept to his routine. Isolating you in a dark, cold room that used to serve as his butchering room, even in the faint light that came in through cracks in the walls, you could see the dark splatter of blood. Painting the wall in one particular spot, the corner in which König kept you chained to. He kept you with old shackles that rusted, flaking off against your skin, nuzzling into the deep cuts that circled your ankles and legs.
“Could’ve sworn I shot a doe,” König huffed when he threw you over his shoulder that day, only after taking the precaution of hog-tying you with some scratchy rope. “Little thief, got even the slightest clue on how long it took me to grow those?”
He made you pay for such insolence. Silly girl.
“Stupid, little doe, goin’ around pickin’ where she shouldn't.” He spoke with a thick accent, bending his huge body over to slump your own against the wall. Placing you back in the embrace of the cold, dirt floor of his butchering shed. Your eyes darted around your new surroundings, spotting thighs coming up to huddle against your chest. The thick skin, made for plumping you up in the winter, provided some warmth, and the lack of a breeze made circulating that heat even easier. His heavily calloused hands grabbed at your limbs, spreading your legs apart and keeping them open as he worked with the old chains. Your strong legs fought back, clamping together and kicking at his chest, but your strength was no match for his.
He had to hold you down with almost every limb, heels of his boots digging into the delicate skin of your wrist, crushing bone and tendon. Sitting on your legs almost wasn't enough to keep you from thrashing, knees kicking at his lower back in desperate escape attempts. Even the slightest amount of his weight on top of you made it hard to breathe, getting to the point where you could no longer feel your legs. When König finally graced you with the kindness of getting up, your lungs finally filled with air— feet tingling as they slowly got their feeling back.
He loomed over you menacingly, hands on his hips like this was all in a good day’s work. “Learn your lesson in here, doe, maybe by spring you won’t be so kicky”
What König wasn’t prepared for was an animal’s willingness to survive. Such a wild animal could never be domesticated easily; he should have known that. Should have expected you to escape like you did, not even lasting a full day in captivity. König knew that reinforcing the bottom with some concrete would have been the right idea, mentally slapped himself when he saw the dirt kicked up on the other side. You crawled and dug your way under the aluminum walls. Once he looked closer, he could see the drag marks from where your body struggled to shove itself under the sharp edges.
König’s thick thighs practically burst at the seams of his pants when he knelt to rub the pad of his finger under the edges, gathering your cold, sweet-tasting blood. Couldn’t help but pop his finger in his mouth, gathering the metallic-tasting liquid onto his tongue, spreading it around his taste buds. It was a quick decision to follow the hunt after that. Wasn’t going to go after you until he got a taste, it got his mind to wander to other things— where you might taste in other places. Such a cute little doe like you shouldn’t be left to die.
He was behind you by at least an hour, but with that bullet hole still in your leg, you weren’t going far. König trudged through the high snow back to his cabin, shaking off the snow at the front door, but other than that, he didn’t bother to take off all his clothes, immediately going after the huge trunk by the rest of his shoes and jackets. With a glance through the small window above him, König could see the wisps of a pink and orange sky, the sun setting far behind the snow-covered tree tops. It would be dark soon, darker than that. There were no cities up here, no street lights, and not even the moon looked like it would show its face tonight. Clouds were heavy too, König noticed, maybe a storm, maybe not.
It was still a good idea to pack accordingly. He made a mental checklist, counting on his thickly gloved fingers as he grabbed each item with his free hand. More rope, flashlight, extra shotgun bullets for the brown gun by the door, might as well put some extra socks on too, another layer of clothes shouldn’t hurt. His room was empty besides an old lamp, a bed fit for a giant, and a dark brown cabinet. König pulled long-sleeve after long-sleeve out, throwing the hangers on the bed as he tried to find the exact one he was looking for.
Such a grown man shouldn’t be so picky, but he was. The cotton wasn’t stretched out as much on this new shirt, buttons were all intact as well, though a tight fit over his head— just waiting to be stretched out by his body.
By the time he got back outside, the sun had fully set. König clicked the flashlight on right away, following the trail back to the shed, imprinting footsteps in the newly fallen snow. The storm was light, laying a thin, fluffy layer over the old. Nothing König couldn’t handle, but he did wonder how you were doing— if you’d collapsed yet. Hoping you didn’t get picked off yet by some other predator.
Once he made it past the clearing of his cabin and to the thick tree line, König found that it wasn’t hard to find your footprints, only filled up by a light layer— easier to see with his flashlight than his eyes. The trees creaked in the wind, following the flow of the snowflakes. König didn’t quite have the hearing of a deer; his was honestly kinda blown out from years at war, but they worked well enough. Enough to hear branches breaking from the weight of snow, some coming from the direction your footsteps lead.
His eyes were better. Barely needed night-vision scopes nowadays, once the baby blues adjusted to the dark, they saw everything. His massive footprints trampled over yours, kicking up snow behind him. Again, it wasn’t long before little spits and spots of blood showed up beside your round footprints, trailing behind. The trees only grew thicker the farther he went, crowding him at every turn, twisting and turning around them like your trail did.
He wasn’t far behind you, and you knew that. Even through all the blood pumping in your ears, you could hear him stomping his way towards you. Usually, you’d kick high tail and run far away, disappearing far before the likes of him could catch up. You used to be able to run so fast.
Eventually, after stumbling around so much, catching yourself on trees, hands digging and scratching against the bark, you fell. Your knees greeted the icy cold once more, skin losing color the more blood you lost, not even your hands turned pink from crawling around in the snow, struggling to drag your dead leg. It was like everything that could help you ran away, no hiding spots amongst the trees, no foxholes big enough to climb into, hell, you’d rather take on a bear than a man. At least the bear stopped when it knew defeat, but this brute just kept following you, quickening his pace to close the hour-long distance between you two.
In one last spurt of energy, you kicked your leg into a running position, launching yourself up from the ground despite the killer pain in your leg, limping through it as your feet skillfully avoided and hopped over rocks and fallen trees. You let your instincts take over, picking one direction and staying on that path, turning only to avoid massive tree trunks and rocks that towered over all the others like giants. Some startled you, thinking that the man after you had already caught up, sitting in the shadows— just waiting for you. But it wasn’t. Just your imagination.
Those images fled from your mind quickly once your eyes finally adjusted to what was in front of you. Limping to the side, you leapt around the rock formation and landed on your bad leg, feeling it slide out from under you, sending you backwards and tumbling onto an even colder surface. You heard a weird echo, a strumming below you as something deep within the earth cracked. It sounded like one of those thick fence wires being plucked, the ones that farmers used to keep the cattle in and trespassers out.
In the dead of night, with no moon or starlight, you saw nothing. You couldn’t tell what was close or far away, but you could feel a flat surface under you, slippery, too slick to gain your bearings. Your feet just slipped out from under you, sending your thigh slamming down into the ground, sending another crack through the air, echoing deeply.
The pond.
In your distress, you had taken yourself to the only safe place you knew. The little pond that connects to a lake. A place where your mom used to take you, blueberries used to grow all along the rocky edges, and you remembered very clearly how your mother warned you to never go on the ice during the beginning of winter. Just because it looked thick and sturdy didn’t mean it would hold.
You lifted your palm very slowly, squeezing your fingers down to try and gain some warmth. When you put it back down in nearly the same spot, little splits in the ice began to form under your weight, sounding like tiny twigs snapping. The worst part is you didn’t know which way you were facing. You could be close to the edge, or you could have run yourself right out into the middle, making you completely stranded.
Cold, starving, and stranded. Maybe all had gone to König’s plan.
You were just starting to inch yourself in a direction you thought might be the right way to go when a bright flashlight lit up the whole area, blinding you in pure white light, a flash-bang to your eyes, shocking you to the core— eyes dilating in the scorching beam. It lit up the ice beneath you, showing you just how deep the pond really went, an endless black pit just waiting for the safety net to break so it could swallow you whole.
König held the flashlight up by his cheek, keeping it on you as he watched you pathetically try to scramble away from it. The ice made a weird twang sound as it snapped beneath your moving form, cracking all the way to where König lifted a heavy boot— placing it down only to receive a wet boot when he pulled it back out.
He tried again, this time reaching his foot further across, pressing down on thicker ice. Once he deemed it would hold his massive weight, König trudged his way towards you very carefully, taking his time. He knew you wouldn’t run. Couldn’t, not anymore.
The sound of the ice continuing to crack under each step scared you deeply, hands spread out as if you could prevent it from further damage, body flattening to the ground like it did when you were first caught. Nothing could save you now.
It was a slow shuffle to where you were, with you slowly dragging yourself as far as you could get without moving too much. It was a battle of who could get where. If König got to you first, it was certain death, but maybe if you could make it across the pond, reach the other side, and take off back into the woods. Then he'd be stuck. That dream was all but short-lived when König took a long stride, rope swinging in a circle by his side. Before you knew it, the same scratchy rope was back around your neck, tightening as it tugged you backwards, ass slamming against the ice while your hands came up to claw at the restraint.
König began his walk back, dragging you behind him with a huff, heavier than he expected. Your legs kicked and fought back, nails breaking from how they tried to rip at the rope, but the loss of blood… You were practically running on nothing, and the weight of that hit heavy in a matter of seconds. Once you felt your leg dip into the very same hole that König fell into, toes engulfed with cold, it was like every ounce of fight escaped your body— legs going limp, body taken over by shivers. Your toes and the tips of your fingers began to turn purple.
You should never have gone after those berries.
Once on land, König dropped the rope to the ground, stepping over it so that he could quietly crawl on top of you— again, sitting on your legs, lips pressed into a thin line. No words this time, just disappointment. You would’ve made such a cute pet, maybe after a bit of house training, you would be.
You bared your neck, head dropping to the side as you accepted defeat. Accepted death. But that’s not what König was after.
He stayed on your legs to tie your hands, but that was it. After, he got up and shrugged off his first layer jacket, letting it drop into the snow bank. He got back to his knees, this time between them, ducking past your kicks and using his thick arms to protect his chest. He held them up by your ankles, fingers lacing over each other as he had the entire bone in his grip, nothing too large for hands like that.
He spread them far despite your protests, letting you scream as loud as you wanted while he bent his back over, licking a long stripe against your cunt. Your thighs clenched against his head, a whole different type of instinct kicking in. You tried to kick at him, tried to roll over and get away, but his large hands were like locks around your feet— keeping them spread wide for him.
“Don’ usually do this so early,” He spoke into your pussy, lips brushing over your nub as he teased it, “but you taste so good down here, probably from all those berries.”
You heard the jingle of metal, like the sound of a farmer’s keys clanking together. A piece of leather was laid beside you, eyeing it like it was just another knife, totally oblivious to what König was getting ready for. He kept his gloves on as he worked out his chubbed-up cock, pulling multiple hems down before it hung between his clothed legs.
“Deep breaths, little doe.” He spoke to deaf ears, watching your eyes panic from side to side, waiting for the knife. But it never came.
Between your thighs was a heavy weight intruding at your most sensitive spot, forcing itself past tense walls, opening your body in a way it's never been before. It made you hurt, made you try and flee from under him, legs just twitching to get away. König groaned above you, a hot puff of air coming out from his lips as his body strained to keep still. The tightness was even a bit much for him, clamping down on his cock in such a way that, made him feel like he couldn’t move because of how fragile your pussy was. You tried to kick away again, throwing your hands against his chest, crying from the new stretch.
“Shh, pretty doe, shh,” He blabbered against your wet cheek after he pinned your tied hands above your head. Hips drawing away, pulling out to the very tip before forcing his way back in. You let out a wail, your body digging deeper into the snow as he nailed you with his cock. He didn’t even think he’d be able to cum because of how cold it was, but your pussy was just too good, worth the freeze so that he could at least cockwarm before going home.
You cried and cried as König’s balls continued to slap against your ass, creating the only sound in the forest, making your voice echo as he fucked into your cervix— most definitely bruising it. His face and nose pressed against your cheek, creating a dent in the skin as he left open-mouth kisses to your moving head, trying to swerve away from his sloppy mouth. He groaned like a dog in heat, rutting his cock into you senselessly as he babbled nonsense into your ear.
“Such a good girl, takin’ this massive fuckin’ cock like you were made to,” he was breathless, chest heaving under all those layers, “not even breedin’ season and you’re already sucking me in like this…”
König sat up on his heels with his cock half inside you, rough hands grabbing at your plush hips, forcing you to turn over— propping your knees up under you like you were his little doll. He made you stay on his cock as you turned over, stretching you out even more, poking you uncomfortably inside with his cock. It was better when he readjusted himself, swirling the tip against your velvety walls, not able to stop his hips from humping into you. It was easier to breathe around his dick once you got used to his harsh thrusts, slotting you back against his cock till your brain went dumb. He didn’t worry much when you almost fell over, lightheaded from the loss of blood.
He forced your breeding instincts to the full front, pussy getting all slick for him, bouncing back stupidly as your head lolled between your shoulders. He smoothed his palm down your curved back, fingers playing in the dimples at the bottom of your spine, dancing dangerously close to your other, fluttering hole. He stuck his large thumb inside, watching the ring of muscle tremor and try to fit it in. Your body got used to it quickly, balancing on the edge of complete unconsciousness and the need to breed.
König was very pleased to feel the flutter of your pussy around his dick as it bounced back, meeting him halfway while he rubbed at your freezing clit. “There ya go, sweet’eart, you know what to do” He let you entertain him, looking silly, barely able to move. It caused a great, loud chuckle to rip through König’s chest, breath icy as he spoke, “Alright, off. Looks like yer about to fuckin die on my cock.”
And he was right, your skin was a ghostly color, all signs of life being drained from that little hole in your leg. He just hoped you survived the more than hour-long walk back home. And you almost didn’t, only seeing the way back through half-lidded eyes, everything blurring past you in one, confusing blob of color. In no time you were back were you started, an hour feeling like nothing with König’s long legs putting in all the work. You couldn’t tell if he was still hard, and you didn’t want to.
This time you were brought into some place warm, sickening so, sweat began to stick to your confused skin, immune system not knowing what to make of such changes. You heard a door shut, eyes refusing to close no matter how heavy they were, not able to tell where your body was. König filled up all your senses.
The thought of my little girl crawling away during sex, and having to pull her back so I can put myself back in her had been replaying in my mind all day. Is it a bad thing that I like it when she looks scared? Probably, but she still giggles when I kiss in between her legs so what is the harm?
Son not being able to sleep cuz he can’t make himself cum no matter how hard he tries.
Him climbing into dad’s bed needy and whining.
Daddy getting him off with his thick fingers or by letting his baby ride him til he’s shaking and whimpering into dad’s chest as he’s finally able to cum.
Dad rolling them over so his boy’s on his back as he fucks him and son crying from overstimulation.
Son cuddling into his daddy’s chest and falling asleep as dad strokes his hair and hugs him close.
Training a puppy to play dead at the first flicker of Daddy being turned on. Going completely limp whenever I mount the poor thing; limbs loose, body slack. Dead things don't make any noise, even when it hurts and Daddy's being too rough.
how to get him to methodically groom me for months straight then hold me at gunpoint force me to get into his van and drive me across the country keep me locked in a shed alone and torture me but also simultaneously spoiling me and giving me affection until we die together in some insane and weird way and i end up on multiple true crime documentaries wikihow tutorial no glue no borax
having him put me into bed nicely, kissing me on the forehead, and pressing my favourite stuffed animal into my arms. i drift asleep easily (thanks to the sleep medication he makes sure i never forget) and he returns soon afterwards, pulling back the blankets gently and positioning me the way he wants.
i'd wake up after a while, making little "ah ah ah" sounds as he uses my body roughly — unable to think straight enough for actual words to form. he tells me how i'm such a good puppy for him, how proud he is of me for for taking it so nicely, and how much he'll spoil me tomorrow.
dumb dog of a top that can’t help but pull your jeans down to your knees and use you whenever he feels his dick getting kinda hard. on a cute hike or picnic date in the middle of the woods or something and he just shoves your face into the dirt before getting to work on your belt. huffing and whining like he literally can’t focus on anything Other than stuffing himself inside you as quick as possible
thinking about trying to study while i cockwarm u … whispering praise and giving me little thrusts when i get a correct answer. pulling my legs further apart and toying with my dick for every wrong one
your kidnapper fucking your throat and proudly asking, “Do you remember choking on my cock when I first brought you home? and now look what you can do” before going harder
