He Looks So Handsome Ahhhhh

hey, don’t cry. "Be still and know that I am God" - Psalm 46:10, okay?

Yesss!! I love it 😊

PART 3 WHOOOOOOOOOO

im surprised yall like my writing so much it means a lot to me

cws: p in v, still continuing with the dub/non con themes, oral, threat at the end (idk if that constitutes a warning)

this part is mainly focused on James, and then pt 4 will be Lars/Kirk, idk they js have a partnership dynamic, and then pt 5 will be Rob :3

My legs shook from the overstimulation, tears running down my cheeks, stinging and soothing my flushed face. I laid in a puddle of my own sweat, blood, and cum, contorting to not touch the sticky mixture under me.

James' left hand still supported my head, softly rubbing my scalp.

"Such a good girl for us," he cooed as he marveled at my mess.

Lars knelt over the bag, using a small cloth to clean the vibrator.

"Please..." My voice wavered.

"What do you need angel?" James asked.

When I couldn't muster up the energy to make a coherent thought, I noticed the hand on my left leg leave. I looked up and found Rob circling the table to kneel down in between my legs.

"Noo..."

"We know what you need sweetheart."

I steeled myself as I felt his tongue trail down my thigh, cleaning he skin, making a line through the mess. He spared no time cleaning my sore cunt. I whined as he made me cum for the nth time.

"Jesus dude keep her fucking conscious," Kirk laughed. I could feel Robert's lips curl up in a smile against my thigh before standing up.

James' hand was replaced with Lars' as he took Robert's place.

"Alright ladies, step aside, I'll show you how tuh' fuck a virgin,"

Kirk cocked his eyebrow.

"Did I miss the meeting where we agreed that you would be the first one to put his dick in her?"

"Y'know, the longer this conversation lasts, the longer your dick stays in your pants."

Kirk rolled his eyes before stepping back and setting his hand back on my thigh, rubbing gently.

James undid his belt before unzipping his pants, opening them just enough to pull his length out. Jesus fucking Christ. This is gonna hurt. I tried to keep my face as neutral as possible, but I knew I was failing judging by the look on James' face. His smug grin made me shudder and I fought hard against the hands pinning me to table.

"Please! Please no! Anything but that!" I had found my voice again, although scratchy and painful.

I thrashed so hard all four of them had to use both hands to keep me from rocking the table. I tired myself out after a few minutes, but still lay sobbing, jerking every now and then to loosen myself from their iron grips.

"7 orgasms and she's still fighting it." 3 sets of eyes landed on James, their owners regaining their composure and sweating from the effort. He leaned over me; I could feel his hard-on press against my stomach as he whispered,

"C'mon baby, you know you want it. Just lay back and relax. We'll take care of you." He said the last sentence aloud, pulling away, trailing his hands along my sides.

"How 'bout this darlin'. I'll be nice and gentle if you do something for me."

He took my silence as intrigue. He nodded slightly and continued.

"You're gonna call me sir if you don't want this pretty lil cunt split in half."

these crosses all over my body

remind me of who i used to be

and christ forgive these bones i’m hiding

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

† james x family tree by ethel cain †

it feels so good to see james being a christian again, makes me feel so happy to see someone who's music i love following the right path

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ⍣ ೋ

𝘔𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘺 𝘚𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘵

-𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴 15:13

He looks like every guy from a small town in west texas

🦌

Okay final Houston post but I made it on Metallica.com.

(I'm the girl in the white top in the bottom right)

Best night of my life

9 ways to love

Listen without interrupting - Proverbs 18:13

Speak without accusing - James 1:19

Give without sparing - Proverbs 21:26

Pray without ceasing - Colossians 1:9

Answer without arguing - Proverbs 17:01

Promise without forgetting - proverbs 13:12

Enjoy without complaining - Philippians 2:14

Trust without wavering - Corinthians 13:7

Forgive without punishing - Colossians 3:13

Teach Me How

To Love You

Request: James is a Viking who marries a Christian girl struggling to fit into his village. Isolated and sad, she can't connect with the other women. To comfort her, one night he takes her to the river; he watches her have fun, and a moment of tension arises between them.

Warnings: unprotected sex, mention of human sacrifices.

The memory of how you arrived in that village is hazy, like a dream shattered by screams, smoke, and blood. The church around you was burning, flames devouring the nave as desperate cries tore through the sacred silence. And then, him: a Viking warrior. His name was James. He stood as tall as a tree, his blue eyes as deep as a stormy sea, his skin marked by the scars of war. He tore you from the grip of death, lifted you from the ground like a feather, and carried you away — far from your village, from your home — hurling you into a world that wasn’t yours. A foreign world. A world forever changed.

In the months following your arrival in that Viking village, you struggled with yourself. You would have rather died in those flames than survived among the pagans. Every night, you prayed to your God, begging for the strength to escape. But escape never came. You were alone in a hostile land, and you knew there was no way out.

You were married after just a few months, without truly understanding why. To him, perhaps, you were a trophy taken in battle. To you, he was an enigma — a wall of silent strength and detachment. Speaking to him was a struggle; language and customs separated you like unscalable walls.

At first, you hated James with all your being. He embodied everything you had been taught to fear: a brute, a pagan, a warrior who smelled of iron, blood, and earth. You, a Christian girl raised to the sound of church bells and Sunday sermons with a devoted family, found yourself uprooted from your life and thrown into hell.

When James returned home from the village, you sensed his presence before you even saw him: a massive shadow moving between the walls, a silence that filled the room. His voice — when he spoke — was calm but commanding, stern without ever raising its tone, firm in its stillness. He often claimed you in a harsh, almost brutal way, but over time, you had learned to trust him. For all his roughness, he had never hurt you with intent. That was simply his nature. And though fear never fully left you, you had begun to understand him.

Every morning you woke in his home, surrounded by rough walls and unfamiliar smells, but day by day, those edges softened. That refuge, which at first had felt like a prison, was slowly teaching you what it meant to feel protected.

Outside, however, was another story. Eyes followed you everywhere: judging, distrustful, sometimes mocking. The village women ignored you, laughed behind your back. You felt like a stray dog. Lonely. A foreigner.

James saw it. You could tell by the way he looked for you with his eyes, how he moved silently beside you as you walked among the people. He said nothing, never intervened. Yet his mere presence brought you a strange comfort — rough, but real.

One evening, while cutting bread on a coarse wooden table, you turned suddenly, tired of the silence that felt like complicity.

“Why don’t you say anything when they insult me?” you asked, staring him in the eyes. “The women… they laugh at me. They treat me like I’m dirty. And you… you just stand there. Watching.”

James looked at you for a long time. Slowly, he set down the bowl he was holding.

“Because I can’t fight all your battles,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Here, if you don’t stand up for yourself, you get crushed. If you want to survive in this world, you have to learn to fend for yourself.”

Your gaze dropped, wounded. But he wasn’t finished.

“I will never leave you alone. If there’s real danger, I’ll be there. Always. But words… wounds that don’t bleed… those you have to face yourself. You must become strong. Stronger than them.” Silence fell over the room again, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t a wall. It was a bridge. For the first time, perhaps, you had heard in that rough voice something that resembled care.

Slowly, something changed after the celebrations of Sígrblót, the festival marking the beginning of summer. That evening, you had been left alone once again, sitting by the window, silently watching the village women laugh, naked, by the river. They were drunk, free, unafraid of the male gazes that lingered on them with open desire. You had realized that fear was a concept foreign to these people.

There were many things you hated about their customs: human sacrifices, their thirst for blood and conquest, their gods—but there was also something, reluctantly, that fascinated you. That wild freedom. That deep connection with nature. That untamed strength. Without realizing it, you had thought that, just once, you’d like to feel like them. Without shame. Without fear.

Sitting in the silence of the wooden house, hands clenched in your lap, your thoughts washed over you like cold rain.

When everyone had moved away from the river to continue the celebrations, James returned. He looked at you, and there was no need for words: he knew. It was as if, for the first time, he truly saw your sadness.

“Come.” His deep, low voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You were afraid—around him, you never knew what might happen. You didn’t know him well enough. You only knew that the few times he had taken you, he had been rough, violent, and had often left behind wounds on your soul that were hard to forget.

You followed him hesitantly, barefoot through the cold grass. You didn’t know where he was leading you until you heard the murmur of water.

The river.

“Go” he said, pointing to the dark water. “It’s all for you.”

You walked toward the bank, turned to look at him. He was sitting on a rock, legs apart, relaxed. His gaze fixed on you—serious, but not hostile. He didn’t force you. He waited. As if he just wanted to give back something he had taken. As if he wanted to start over.

You don’t speak. You slip off your robe, feel his gaze on you, and dive in, holding your breath. The water wraps around you—icy and alive. It glides over your skin like a blessing. And you… you laugh. Without thinking, without even realizing it. You find yourself swimming, moving gracefully through the moonlit reflections. You feel lighter than you have in months.

You turn toward him. He hasn’t moved. But now he’s looking at you differently. Not with possession, but with wonder.

“What is it?” you ask softly.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you laugh,” he says, his tone light.

“Don’t you swim?” you ask, trying to bridge the distance.

James undresses, standing completely naked on the shore, and you look at him as if you’ve never really seen him before: the tattoos, the scars, the body shaped by a warrior’s harsh life. For the first time, you feel drawn to him—you see him in a different light.

He steps into the water and comes closer.

“You… you’re beautiful” he says after a moment of silence.

His words catch you off guard—it’s the first compliment he’s ever given you. You feel yourself blush for no reason and look at him in disbelief.

The moon casts shadows across his face, and for a moment he seems like a different man. Not the warrior who destroyed your world, but a soul searching for redemption.

“I don’t know how to treat you” he murmurs, his voice low, rough and for the first time, you hear uncertainty in his words.

You move closer—the water binding you like a thin border between the past and something that could become something else. You take his hand and guide it to your face, then to your neck.

“I can teach you.” Your words hang in the silence.

He nods, eyes locked on yours, and lets you teach him. Lets you show him where he can touch, how gently he can explore you.

You kiss him gently at the corner of his mouth. He stays still, and when the kiss deepens and your tongues meet, he lets out a soft moan. It’s the first time you kiss like this, usually your encounters are fleeting, superficial, but not this time. This time, you take your time, and he respects that.

Your hand moves to the back of his neck and tangles in his long, wheat-colored hair.

You feel a passion you’ve never known take hold of you, and he senses it. He pulls you close, firmly but not roughly, lifting you by your buttocks so you can wrap your legs around his waist.

Your breath mingles with the sound of the water. Words are no longer needed. Only glances, sighs, and slow gestures.

You take his hand and bring it to your breast. The same large, rough hand that always frightened you, that made you fear the worst every time he came home drunk after some victory celebration—now touches you with unexpected care and tenderness.

He teases your hardened, sensitive nipple with his thumb, then cups your breast as if it were something precious, delicate, and unique.

For the first time, you’re not afraid. You’re hungry, you crave to truly feel him.

He learns to love you. Every breath you take becomes a guide. Every stifled moan, a lesson.

“Am I hurting you?” he asks feeling your breath catch in your throat as he pushes into you, slow but deep, stretching you open. “No… keep going.. slow" you let yourself go letting him take you, completely, fully.

The water surrounds you, and your moans are swallowed by his mouth, passionate and ravenous. He kisses you hard, biting your lip, then trails down your neck, dragging his tongue across your skin as his hips grind into yours with aching precision, letting you feel how hard he is, how much he needs your body, how deeply he wants to know you.

Soon after you're spread wide open for him on the damp grass of the riverbank and there everything becomes more intense. James holds you tightly against him, pressing you against his chest, and you cling to him nails digging them into his back—you want to feel him completely, to savor every sensation for the first time. His movements are so intense and deep that they make you feel dizzy, and you experience a feeling never felt before—a warmth that radiates from your core throughout your body, sending waves of pleasure that make you moan like never before. James senses what’s happening inside you; the way your muscles contract around him, pulling him deeper. His voice, low and gravelly, brushes against your ear, “Do you like it like this?” A shiver runs through you at the heat of his words.

“Y-yes, don’t stop… please” you gasp, every syllable laced with need.

His gaze darkens like that of a wolf on the hunt, and for a moment you feel scared but excited at the same time. With one hand, he grips your throat, making you lose your breath, unexpectedly heightening your pleasure that crashes inside you like a wave.

His eyes get lost in yours, and when he completely lets go inside you, filling you with his seed, you realize you’re falling in love with that gaze, rough, intense, animalistic, yet at the same time devoted.

As you lie naked on the ground, his body shielding you from the cold, you feel a sense of peace. You feel seen—not as a trophy, but as a woman.

“I want you to teach me how to love you, I want you to forgive me” he says, almost whispering close to your ear.

You look at him, running your fingers over the scar on his chest and then moving your hand up to his face. You had never really noticed his rugged, true beauty until that moment.

“I… hated you” you say. Your voice trembles, but you say it anyway.

“You took me away. You took everything from me.”

He nods. He doesn’t justify himself. He doesn’t say “I’m sorry.” But he listens.

“Why did you marry me?” you continue, almost surprised by your own words.

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to sell me as a slave and marry a woman from your village?” You almost hesitate to see his reaction, but now you can’t turn back.

“Because if I hadn’t, they probably would have sacrificed you, and I didn’t want that” he replies calmly, trying to pronounce the words clearly so you can understand.

“And because you have kind eyes that captured me from the moment I saw you terrified that day… you awakened something in me.”

You remain silent, overwhelmed by his words, feeling a warm tear slowly slide down your cheek. The thought of what could have happened to you shakes you. James notices your confusion, and fear, he takes the bear fur he used to wear as a cloak, and gently covers you.

“You are safe with me now.” He says, voice low, barely above a whisper. But it lands like a promise etched in stone.

And for the first time, you believe him.

#NeedThat

Both. At the same time.

Whore.

AHHHHHH!! I've been waiting for this

PART 3 WHOOOOOOOOOO

im surprised yall like my writing so much it means a lot to me

cws: p in v, still continuing with the dub/non con themes, oral, threat at the end (idk if that constitutes a warning)

this part is mainly focused on James, and then pt 4 will be Lars/Kirk, idk they js have a partnership dynamic, and then pt 5 will be Rob :3

My legs shook from the overstimulation, tears running down my cheeks, stinging and soothing my flushed face. I laid in a puddle of my own sweat, blood, and cum, contorting to not touch the sticky mixture under me.

James' left hand still supported my head, softly rubbing my scalp.

"Such a good girl for us," he cooed as he marveled at my mess.

Lars knelt over the bag, using a small cloth to clean the vibrator.

"Please..." My voice wavered.

"What do you need angel?" James asked.

When I couldn't muster up the energy to make a coherent thought, I noticed the hand on my left leg leave. I looked up and found Rob circling the table to kneel down in between my legs.

"Noo..."

"We know what you need sweetheart."

I steeled myself as I felt his tongue trail down my thigh, cleaning he skin, making a line through the mess. He spared no time cleaning my sore cunt. I whined as he made me cum for the nth time.

"Jesus dude keep her fucking conscious," Kirk laughed. I could feel Robert's lips curl up in a smile against my thigh before standing up.

James' hand was replaced with Lars' as he took Robert's place.

"Alright ladies, step aside, I'll show you how tuh' fuck a virgin,"

Kirk cocked his eyebrow.

"Did I miss the meeting where we agreed that you would be the first one to put his dick in her?"

"Y'know, the longer this conversation lasts, the longer your dick stays in your pants."

Kirk rolled his eyes before stepping back and setting his hand back on my thigh, rubbing gently.

James undid his belt before unzipping his pants, opening them just enough to pull his length out. Jesus fucking Christ. This is gonna hurt. I tried to keep my face as neutral as possible, but I knew I was failing judging by the look on James' face. His smug grin made me shudder and I fought hard against the hands pinning me to table.

"Please! Please no! Anything but that!" I had found my voice again, although scratchy and painful.

I thrashed so hard all four of them had to use both hands to keep me from rocking the table. I tired myself out after a few minutes, but still lay sobbing, jerking every now and then to loosen myself from their iron grips.

"7 orgasms and she's still fighting it." 3 sets of eyes landed on James, their owners regaining their composure and sweating from the effort. He leaned over me; I could feel his hard-on press against my stomach as he whispered,

"C'mon baby, you know you want it. Just lay back and relax. We'll take care of you." He said the last sentence aloud, pulling away, trailing his hands along my sides.

"How 'bout this darlin'. I'll be nice and gentle if you do something for me."

He took my silence as intrigue. He nodded slightly and continued.

"You're gonna call me sir if you don't want this pretty lil cunt split in half."