Captain America (2012) #1 | Writer: Remender | Artist: Romita
[Remender, my nemesis. Other than these flashbacks, I do not use this run.]
//Even when I write in MCU, I use a lot of 616 because 616 is where Steve has nuance. I curse MCU just about every day for barely giving Steve any time in proper combat. 616!Cap was in the War since 1941. Before Cap and Bucky went to Europe, they were busting up spy rings on American soil. But no, just give MCU!Steve a year and some change!
But that’s not what I’m talking about. Ik this is a pretty common take. But we’ll say it in my words. Cutting for length and more discussions about alcoholism, abuse, eugenics.
PUFFS OF AIR TICKLED your ear as sharp exhales left your lover’s body.
You too felt as if the oxygen had been drawn outside of your tiny little room in your shared Brooklyn apartment. You were lightheaded as Steve vigorously thrusted in and out of your cunt, the newfound heaviness from him and the heat radiating from his body still an unfamiliar furor to you. His hands were significantly bigger and meatier, able to engulf both of your wrists in one and pin them above your head. His chest was broader and fuller, the wall of muscle fiercely protecting the thumping heart that lay beneath it. His legs were longer and robust, never faltering despite the immense pleasure he felt while he was inside of you. And those arms. The arms that held you every night were large and burly. Nonetheless, they were feelings you welcomed with
He was still your Steve.
You knew he was when he removed his dewy face from the crook of your neck and stared right through your soul with those crystalline eyes. He gazed at you like a man seeing the sun for the first time. And perhaps he was. With his newfangled heightened senses, Steve could now view your beauty without interference. You resembled Aphrodite reincarnated as you lay underneath him, features twisted into an expression of pure ecstasy. Your skin glowed in the candle light exquisitely, the tiny beads of sweat resembling tiny crystals shimmering against you. You were something straight out of a renaissance painting. Only no one else would see you like this, needy and wanton. Just him.
Like a shark sniffing out blood in the ocean, all rational parts of his brain shut down as his nose picked up the barest waft of your arousal. His jaw clenched as his pupils dilated. Steve’s clear-water ocean blues now donned a deeper shade, the kind of blue that made you fear what lurked below the undiscovered waters.
“Fuck,” Steve groaned, his eyes involuntarily rolling to the back of his skull as your velvety walls squeezed his member when the tip of it hit a particular spot within you. “Fuck, sweetheart, I can smell you.”
A part of you felt embarrassed for a brief moment, the overly self-conscious part of you snapping you out of your trance. But then you looked up and were met with the sight of the love of your life plowing into you anomalistically, looking the most feral you had ever seen the golden boy look through the entirety of you knowing him. His gilded locks were a mess, pieces sticking to his sweat covered forehead. His head was slightly bowed, shoulders hunched as he slowly began to lose control.
“You feel so fucking good, baby,” Steve whispered. “I didn’t think you could even feel any better—”
Releasing your hands from his vice grip, he grabbed hold of your hips for purchase. You could feel your delicate skin bruising under the pads of his fingers. Your Steve was not fully cognizant of his strength quite yet, you knew he could never leave a single mark on your body unless you begged for it. Yet, you cared not. His ferociousness was unleashing something within you. You liked watching him lose control in his new body of his that defied limitations. You were experiencing all of these newfound sensations right alongside him.
Your body jerked violently against the bed from the force behind each impel. With a sharp gasp followed by a string of pornographic, staccato cries, you outstretched your arms to pull him to you. Your vermillion varnished nails sunk into the meat of his back as he pressed his forehead to yours.
“Look at me, Stevie,” You begged, swollen lips brushing against his. “Please.”
As if he was under your spell, his eyes snapped open to meet yours. A small whimper escaped his lips, his eyes falling shut for just a split second before he forced them open again, unable to look away from you for the life of him.
“I can see you,” He breathed in awe, eyed widening. “Holy shit, I can really see you.” His gaze trailed your body before finding its way back up to your face. “You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart. The prettiest thing I have ever seen. Look how well you take me.”
It was your turn to whimper, his honeyed praises and the precision of his thrusts a deadly combination. Steve was right there with you. His nerves felt like they were on fire in the best way possible. Every vein on his cock was hypersensitive, highly receptive to every drag against your walls. He crashed his lips against yours as he lost control, shooting his load inside of you. Your own reverie hit you like a bus the second the first rope of cum painted your cavern. You mewled into his mouth, embracing him tightly as you felt his large body tremble. His moans turned into deep, guttural growls as he fucked his spent into you. Steve’s body fell forward weakly, his muscles turning into jelly as your pussy twitched around him.
With another growl and wave of trembles, he came once more. He sloppily continued to pump himself in and out of you, creating a mess where you were adjoined.
"Stevie,” You murmured, pressing kisses against his shoulders, chest, and neck as he came down from his high.
He went completely lax against you, resting his head on your chest as he wrapped his arms around you. With an ear flushed against your bosom, he listened to the sound of your heart with a clarity he never thought was possible. It was his new favorite song. Once its rampant pounding reached a ritardando, he lifted his head. His own heart swelled as he admired you in your afterglow. You belonged in the Sistine Chapel to be rightfully worshipped. Or perhaps in a Greek mythology book.
And yet, here you remained. With him.
Your eyes met his, and the two of you giggled in shock and disbelief. You nuzzled your nose against his before kissing him sweetly.
“This…This isn’t throwing you off?” Steve asked innocently.
You could not believe he had the sheer audacity to even ask you that after what had just occurred, but he wouldn’t be Steve if he didn’t. That was all the confirmation you needed.
Summary: You, Steve and Bucky have been friends since childhood, always there for each other in the important parts of each other's lives. However, it was undeniable that what you three shared was more than a friendship, even if you refused to admit it. That was until one night you gave in to your desires and started a secret friends with benefits relationship with Bucky. The problem was that you also liked Steve. So when you woke up next to him one morning, feeling his hard on pressed against your ass you couldn't resist your urges to help him.
Warnings: Set in the 40s (just cause I imagined this with pre-serum steve), SMUT MINORS DNI, inexperienced!steve x softdom!reader, somnophilia kinda so dubcon maybe? (Steve is asleep and the reader rubs against him), handjob, dirty talk, pet names (baby, good boy), there's literally no plot just smut ;)
English is not my first language
Word count: 2900
You awoke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting in through the crack in the door, announcing that a new day had begun. You stretched out in bed, slowly waking up your muscles as you gathered the strength to get out of bed. You were comfortable and warm which made the task of opening your eyes that much more difficult. However, when you heard a grunt behind you your eyes opened immediately. It took you a few seconds to adjust your gaze to the morning light as rays of sunlight slipped through the slits in the blinds, but eventually you realized that you were not in your room and this was not your bed.
You remembered then that Bucky, Steve and you had stayed up late talking and you realized that at some point you had fallen asleep in Steve's bed. It wasn't the first time something like that had happened. You three were close friends and you tended to sneak into your friends' beds in the middle of the night more often than you'd like to admit.
What was new, however, was the firm bulge you felt pressing against your butt.
At first you weren't sure what you were feeling —maybe there was something in the bed or maybe it was just Steve's bony leg that was making you confused—, so you subtly pushed your ass back to try to figure out what was going on. Then Steve's arm pressed against your waist, drawing you closer to him as he let out a breathy gasp. That told you two things. First, Steve was definitely pressing his hard cock against your ass. And second, he was fast asleep. You knew that if he were awake he wouldn't be pressing himself on you like that, he was too shy for that. He'd probably be apologizing, stumbling over his words as his cheeks reddened.
You couldn't deny the tingling you felt in your stomach, blood traveling to your little bundle of nerves as you felt Steve pressed against your back. You couldn't help but feel a little bad for him, you knew how much he needed some relief even though he denied it. He didn't have much luck with women —which is something you'd never understand, he was a wonderful man—, and he was too proud to admit that his hand wasn't satisfying him as it should. The walls of the small apartment you shared were thin and you could hear his moans of frustration as he tried to relieve himself. You knew he craved the warm touch of a woman and you wanted to give it to him —God knew how much you wanted it—, but you knew he wouldn't let you, too concerned about ruining your friendship over something as dumb as his sexual frustration.
But now that he was asleep he had no way to object and you couldn't help but press yourself against him once more, feeling his cock twitch through the thin fabric of his pajama pants. His grip on your waist tightened and you had to bite your tongue to keep from letting out a moan as Steve grinded his hips against you, awakening a fire inside you that would be hard to extinguish.
You tried to be careful with your movements, creating enough friction to slowly bring him closer to the edge, but not enough to wake him up. You wanted to know how far you could push him before he woke up, wondering if you could make him cum in his pants while he slept. The very thought of that made you feel powerful, as if you were Aphrodite herself and he a mere mortal surrendered at your feet. Suddenly you were determined to give him the relief he so desperately needed.
However, before you could accomplish your task, a loud noise coming from the kitchen echoed throughout the apartment. You stopped your movements, your body stiffening as you strained your ears for any sign that Steve was still asleep. You prayed to god that he was, even though you knew it was highly unlikely.
"Good morning to you too, Buck." He muttered under his breath, annoyed at his friend for waking him up. You stood still for a few seconds, waiting for him to pull away from you immediately, embarrassed by the situation you were in. You were ready to pretend that nothing had happened, however, when he didn't move you couldn't help but giggle. It was as if his mind, still clouded by sleep, was unable to register the tent in his pants.
"Good morning, Stevie." You greeted him in an amused tone. "I'm glad to know that you're happy to wake up next to me." You teased him. He frowned in confusion, but then you wiggled your hips and he understood with horror what you were referring to.
"Oh my god! I'm so sorry, darling, shit, I didn't mean to-" Steve panicked, pulling away from you as far as he could without falling off the bed. You interrupted his nervous rambling with a laugh, finally turning to look at him. He was as red as you imagined, looking at you with wide eyes full of embarrassment.
"It's okay, Steve. I don't mind." You tried to calm him down, letting one of your hands rest on his shoulder, stroking its way down to his chest. "It's a completely normal reaction of your body, I'm not mad."
"I know, but still, it must be really uncomfortable for you. I- I'm sorry, let me go to the bathroom to... I- just wait." Steve tried to excuse himself to get out of there, but before he could get up you put pressure on his chest with your hand, using your free one to support your head as you looked down at him.
"I can help you with it, if you want." Your voice was low and seductive, barely a whisper that had Steve wondering if he had heard you correctly. It couldn't be, it had to be some kind of hallucination or part of a very realistic lucid dream. "You need some relief, baby, I know... I've heard you late at night, whimpering in frustration cause you can't get there. Your hands are not enough anymore, aren't they? You need more and I can give it to you."
"B-but what, umm, what about our, umm, our friendship?" Steve struggled to form a coherent sentence, overwhelmed by your words and the effect they were having on his body. His cock throbbed in his pants at the very thought of feeling your hands on his body, god knew he had fantasized about it many times in the past, but he couldn't let his arousal ruin your friendship. He loved you too much and he couldn't lose you. "W-wouldn't it be weird for us to... do... it?" he added, trying not to lose himself in the tingling that the gentle caresses your fingers provided on his chest awakened.
"It doesn't have to be weird. Think about it as me doing you a favor, as friends, just like that kiss, remember?" Of course he remembered! It had been his first kiss. He was tired of waiting for the right girl to find out what it felt like to be kissed, and after discovering that you had asked Bucky to be your first kiss as a favor between friends, he had done the same with you. You had been able to continue being friends after that, although he had to admit that a kiss was a lot more innocent than what you were proposing to him now.
"I just wanna help you, Stevie." You whispered in his ear, giving him goosebumps. He felt like he was living one of his dirtiest dreams, and it was getting harder and harder for him to resist your charms. "You don't even have to get naked in front of me. I can just... slide my hand down... and help you out." You dragged out the words as you spoke, timing your sentence with the movement of your hand. Your fingers slowly slid down his chest, past his abdomen to the bulge in his crotch. You applied the slightest amount of pressure on his member, but even that was enough to make him gasp. "You need this, Steve. Let me help you."
Your hand remained still on his erection as you waited for his consent, your eyes never leaving his. You could see reflected in them the internal debate in his mind, doubt and embarrassment slowly being consumed by desire. When he gave you a slight nod, you got to work. You didn't waste a second, pushing your hand inside his pants to make direct contact with his cock already wet with precum.
Steve let out a high moan of pleasure as he felt your gentle fingers closing around his aching hard cock, throwing his head back on the pillow as he let himself get carried away into pleasure. You were right, it was so much more than his hands. It felt a thousand times better, even though there wasn't much difference between your hand and his.
"Does that feel good, baby?" Your seductive voice broke through the mess of thoughts and feelings that was his mind, bringing him a little closer to the edge. He wasn't going to last long, of that he was sure.
"Mhm," Steve nodded weakly, opening his eyes to look at you. "So good, f-fuck, please don't stop."
"I won't, baby, I promise. But you have to keep quiet. Bucky is right outside that door and you wouldn't want him to interrupt us, right?" You increased the pace of your hand as you spoke, almost as if you were daring him to keep quiet while you imposed a punishing rhythm on his cock.
The very thought of being interrupted before reaching the relief he so desperately craved brought tears to his eyes. He needed to cum so badly and he needed you there with him to help him. If you were interrupted and forced to separate, and his mind had time to cool down, he wasn't sure if he would dare give in to his desires like that again. Steve needed to have you right then and there, otherwise he didn't know if he would ever get the chance again.
“N-no, I don’t want that, s-shit. I-I’ll be quiet, I promise.” He managed to say between ragged breaths and moans of pleasure. You found the desperation in his voice arousing, every sound that escaped his lips went straight to your core, which throbbed with need. You could feel your wetness beginning to drip down your thighs as you squeezed your legs together, seeking a bit of friction to ease the ache.
"Good boy," you praised him and felt his cock throb against your hand, letting you know how much Steve liked that nickname.
A smile tugged at your lips, enjoying how powerful it felt to hear the soft moans of pleasure escaping your friend's mouth as you circled your palm over the sensitive skin on the tip of his cock. Being with him was very different from being with Bucky. Steve's shy and submissive personality allowed you to explore your dominant side, and you had to admit that you loved the way it made you feel. At that moment you knew there was no one more important to him than you. You had the power to give him immense amounts of pleasure until you pushed him over the edge, but you also had the ability to take it away and leave him crying for more. Not that you were going to do it —you weren't that cruel—, but knowing that you could made you feel special.
When Steve began to thrust his hips in rhythm with your movements to meet your hand, you knew he was close to his orgasm. So you picked up the pace, determined to give him the relief he craved. Steve's face contorted in pleasure, eyebrows slightly furrowed as his parted lips let out endless sounds of pleasure that became more desperate with each passing second. It was one of the most arousing sights you had ever seen and you couldn't help but feel proud to be the one who had brought him to that state.
"You're getting close, baby?" You asked him and he simply nodded, letting out a string of moans that bordered on being pathetic. "Are you gonna cum for me like a good boy?"
"Yes! F-fuck, please, don't stop." Steve whined, looking at you with half-closed, glassy eyes.
"I won't, baby. I got you, just let go for me. Give into the pleasure, honey. I got you." Your sweet voice encouraged him, warm breath tickling him as you whispered in his ear.
Steve took your words as an command, and only a couple of seconds later he was cumming in your hand with a grunt of pleasure that echoed throughout the room. You should have been worried about it since your apartment wasn't very big and Bucky was only a couple of feet from the bedroom door, but in the moment you couldn't concentrate on anything but Steve's beautiful expression as his orgasm took over. His cock twitched in your hand as rope after rope of warm pearly white cum stained your skin. You helped him through his orgasm, moving your hand gently over his member until he let out a whimper from the overstimulation. Only then did you pull away from him, removing your hand from his pants as he struggled to get his breathing back to normal.
When you saw your fingers covered in his release you had to resist the urge to taste it, opting to wipe it off with a piece of paper on the bedside table. You figured maybe that would be too much for Steve, and while there was nothing else you wanted more at that moment than to know how he tasted, you understood that your friendship with him was far more important. If you were lucky, you would have more opportunities in the future to satisfy your curiosity. So for now you would have to wait for it.
"Feeling better?" You asked him when you noticed that his breathing had returned to normal. He didn't even open his eyes to answer you, just nodded his head as a smile formed on his lips. He was adorable.
"I feel great. T-that was amazing." You let out a chuckle at the expression of pure bliss on his face, proud of yourself for having managed to bring him to that state.
"I suggest you take a shower before you go out to the kitchen to get breakfast." You spoke as you got out of bed, fixing your hair before leaving the room. "And maybe don't smile like that, you don't want Bucky to find out what we did, do you?" Steve took a few seconds before answering you, debating whether it was really so terrible that someone found out what you had done. Sure, it would probably ruin your friendship, but at this point he wasn't sure that was a bad thing. Not if it meant he could feel your hands on his body again.
However, when you looked at him with a raised brow, he was forced to shake his head. "I'll behave."
"Good boy. "You gave him a playful wink before disappearing out the door, leaving him alone in the room with his thoughts.
You headed straight to the bathroom to wash up before following the scent of coffee coming from the kitchen. Bucky was sitting at the small breakfast table when you entered, a cup of coffee in his hand and an open newspaper in front of him. You greeted him with a smile, but you were too distracted to notice the firm tone in his voice when he greeted you back. Your mind was still occupied with images of Steve melting under your touch, your core throbbing with need as a constant reminder of your little adventure.
You made your way to the coffee pot to pour yourself some, stretching over the counter to reach the cupboard where the mugs were kept. You missed hearing Bucky's footsteps behind you. You didn't even realize he had left his place at the table until you felt his muscular torso pressing against your back, one hand on your waist as he reached the other out to get you the cup you were having so much trouble grabbing.
"Jesus, Buck! You scared me!" You exclaimed, flinching a little and bringing a hand up to your chest, feeling your racing heartbeat. He didn't answer you and that should have been your second hint that something was wrong. However, he let you pour a cup of coffee and take a sip before making his intentions clear.
"You've been a bad girl." He whispered in your ear, tightening his grip on your waist. Your body immediately froze as you finally realized what was happening. "You thought you were being smart, huh? Keeping quiet as you had your fun with Steve in bed?" Bucky pressed his body against yours harder, the edge of the marble countertop digging into your hips to the point where you had to bend over it to release some of the pressure. The new position left your ass exposed to Bucky, who took the opportunity to press his semi-hard cock against you. "You thought I wouldn't catch you two, didn't you, doll? Well, you thought wrong and now you'll have to answer for your actions."
“babe! the game is on!” you hear chris yell out from the living room, and you internally groan.
you usually loved game day; getting to snuggle on the couch and eat pizza while watching your boyfriend get all riled up was something you would usually be up to.
however
he just came back from a press tour and you were pent up from weeks without seeing him; all you wanted to do was mount him so he could pound-
“princess, what’re you doin the game’s about to start” he tuts at you while making his way towards you in the kitchen. his patriots shirt tight around his figure highlighting his thick biceps. god it was like he was doing this on purpose.
“sorry baby i was putting away the drinks” you softly reply as he loops his arms around your waist and looks down at you; his chain dangling between the two of you.
he leans down for a quick peck before smiling down at you.
“let’s go sit down baby” he tells you before smacking your ass and walking away with a smirk. you yelp out before growling out his name and he chuckles at your empty threats.
he groans as his sinks down on the couch; his large frame taking up a large portion of it. he motions for you to sit next to him before stretching his arms around the couch to get comfortable.
you eventually pitter over to him taking your place by his side snuggling up to him as he moves to grab his beer off the small coffee table.
as the game begins he feels you squirming by his side. he could tell something was off when he found you zoned out in the kitchen. he didn’t quite understand what was wrong but he was hoping you would come to him about it.
however as the game continues you don’t say a word. he rests a hand on your thigh before deciding to drop it, but as he settles his hand down he feels you squirm even more before burying your face into his shoulder.
then the issue becomes clear to him.
his poor baby was pent up
“princess look at me” he speaks softly urging you from your place at his side. you oblige lifting your head so your eyes could meet his; sparkling blue eyes peering into yours.
“what’s got you so worked up little girl?” he continues as his hand moves up your thigh.
“has daddy been neglecting you? poor little thing” he coos down as you whine and tuck your face back under his arm. he chuckles at your shyness finding it adorable.
“let daddy make it up to you princess” he says as he grabs your waist hoisting you onto his lap; your front meeting the hard mass of his chest.
he spring into action; hands grabbing handfuls of your ass while he leaves a trail of kisses down your neck. you feel his stubble as he makes his way down your neck leaving a trail of dark splotches in his wake.
he leans back as he tugs on your shorts; giving you the hint to take them off. you stand up to shake off your shorts along with your underwear and he does the same; freeing himself just enough to where his cock springs out.
you see him in his entirety; long and thick. even though you two have an extremely active sex life its always a stretch when he plunges into you. and yet you can’t help but feel yourself drip at the thought.
“c’mon baby sit on daddy’s cock wont you?” he says as he pouts down at you. he reaches out and moves you back onto his lap so you’re straddling him once again.
he smacks your ass before grabbing it and shaking it in his hand. his other hand moves to your pussy; finding your slit. he groans as he finds out you’re fucking soaked. you’re always fucking ready for him
“god baby your pussy is drooling, you were just waiting to get slutted out huh doll?” he groans as he moves his hands to your hips. he lifts you up before lining you up with his cock.
“you ready pretty girl?” he purrs out before dropping you down on his cock. you both moan out as he bottoms out in you instantly; the fat head of his cock already knocking against your g-spot.
you move to lift off his cock; before you feel strong arms wrap around you; keeping you still. you lean back in his hold confusion gracing your features.
“the game is on baby, be good and keep my cock warm” he says before laying a slap on your ass and reaching to grab his beer. you whine out clenching around his cock.
“daddy! please need you so bad” you wine trying to rock on his dick. he grunts and as quick as you are to start, is as quick as he is to shut it down. his hand wraps around your throat and his other comes down on your ass, hard
“don’t be a fucking needy slut” he growls out. he sees the tears begin to run down your face as you whimper and shake in his hold. his hold on your throat tightens as a reminder of his power before he finally pulls away.
“poor baby, maybe if you’re good daddy will fuck you nice and good during halftime” he coos down at you and you sniffle before nodding and settling down leaning back into his chest. he rubs your back before leaning back and starting to enjoy the game.
his pretty doll was being so good for him. as he raged and yelled, and as he cheered and celebrated; your little cunt was keeping him warm the entire time. you stayed buried into his chest letting out the occasional whine or whimper. you poor little thing but halftime was approaching and since you were being so good for him he’d be sure to fuck you full.
“aww look what time it is babydoll” he says as he pays your back. you stir before turning and seeing no players on the field fucking finally.
you feel his hands move to your ass before he plants his feet and starts a brutal pace. you squeal as you brace yourself hands wrapping around his neck. the sudden stimulation makes tears run down your cheeks as chris pounds into you.
his pace is hard and fast and he fucks into your squelching cunt. a clapping noise resonates in the room as his thighs hit your ass; accompanied by the sloshes of your cunt taking the abuse of his cock.
he fucks up into you while he holds handfuls of your ass; using you like his personal fleshlight. but how could he not when your pussy was so fucking good. you were so damn wet and tight and it took everything in him to not pump you full of his cum after the first pump of his hips. but he’d be damned if he didn’t get you to soak his cock before he finished.
he continues his harsh pace and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm; your legs shaking as you feel his pubes knock against your clit adding to the tightening of your cunt.
“god baby your cunt’s gonna milk me dry” he groans as he bites his lip turning his head to look at your fucked out face; your eyes rolled back as tears stream down your face as a little drool slips past your lips. he chuckles at you before moving his lips to yours as you two meet in a steamy clash of tongue and teeth. the kiss nothing but steamy and rushed as you moan into each other’s mouths.
he pulls away with a groan before slamming his hand down on your ass.
“c’mon doll, squirt on this dick so i can cum in this pretty pussy” he ushers you and you respond with a cry before clamping down on his cock.
your release spraying on him in streams soaking his abdomen and wetting the patriots jersey still adorning his body. he moans at the increase of wetness, before thrusting himself as deep as he can go into your cunt. cockhead nestled against your womb as his cum pumps into you in streams. his cum flooding your abused pussy as you both try to calm down from your highs.
you move to get off of him before his arms wrap around your waist once again.
“where you going baby? the game’s not over yet” he grins at you before settling back into the couch.
“maybe if you’re good we can have some real fun after the patriots win” he smirks down at you.
and as you sink back into chris you have never rooted for the patriots harder.
the scientists don't favour you, and the na'vi want you gone. you're torn about between two worlds and so is tsu'tey when he finds himself loving a demon
Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff.
Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19)
Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, ptsd/ flashbacks, profanity, age gap, sexual tension, size difference/kink, praise kink, jealousy, scenting, fingering, recollection of non-con trauma (for the plot), alcohol consumption/drunk character, let me know if i forgot anything?
Word Count: 6.3k
Requested: Yes || No
Author’s Note: Sorry this one took a while, been a hell of a week. It's got a lot of angst, so prep yourselves guysss. Ends with smut, ofc. I hope you guys enjoy 🤍
Synopsis: Your family seeks uturu with the Metkayina in the village of Awa’atlu. You have a difficult time adjusting, and are assigned your own special teacher, Ralak.
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“Y/n. For the love of Christ, you better tell me that the storm held ya up last night.” Jakes voice rings in your ear, waking you up.
Oh shit.
You look to your left to see the first rays of sunlight shining on Ralak’s sleeping, naked body, chest heaving slowly from his unfaltering breaths. Perched on his side, his face sits in his palm, as if he’s fallen asleep partially sitting up. Two fingers still nestled inside you, his facial muscles are slightly tensed, like he’s ready wake up any minute and tend to your every need, just like he’s been doing all night long.
“Get your ass home. Now.” Jakes irate voice brings you back to reality.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
What were you going to tell Jake? That the storm did keep you up? He’d never believe that. Not for a second. Either way, if you didn’t go now, this man would skin the love of your life. Unmated, in his bed, all before your second iknimaya? He’d try, at least.
“Sst-ah.” you let out a shaky breath, grimacing as you pull his fingers out of you. They’re covered in your cum, so much so that a thick string of slick connects you to his fingers when you pull your pelvis away. You scramble to your feet, wiping yourself up with the already damp cloth next to his bed.
I’ll be back, my love. You think, looking over at him one last time before rushing out of his marui.
On your way to the cave, you try to assess your state. It’s hard to tell, given the fact that your heart is pounding at a speed only an ikran could attain. Anxiety streams through your veins, but otherwise, you feel fairly normal. Maybe a little bit like you did after your first iknimaya, when you passed your dream hunt and had one too many glow worms. But nothing unmanageable.
Guess it’s over.
Finally arriving at the cave, frantic eyes search the body of water for your loincloth. It’s floating at the far end of the lake, so you dive in. As you’re swimming, you catch a whiff of your own scent, mixed with Ralak’s. You bring your arm to your nose and take a deep breath. “Fuck.” you curse under your breath, submerging your entire body in the water, trying to bathe his scent off you.
You knew you scented each other, but you didn’t know that it would linger this long. You scrub your body, paying extra attention to your chest and neck. Time is going faster than you can move. But it’s like the more you scrub, the more you rub it into your skin – into your essence.
“Forget this.” you huff, grabbing your loincloth and swimming back to sand. You wring it out, slip inside and tie the knot hastily. One last look back on his marui pod, and you’re gone like the wind – quick and silent.
The trek back home is nerve-wracking, you feel so uneasy that you could feel something in your throat. A lump. You swallow repeatedly, trying to get rid of it, but it grows a little bigger for every step you take. By the time you’re at your marui door, you feel like you can’t breathe.
Neteyam smells you first, wreaking of a male na’vi, nose scrunching at the odour. He huffs a harsh breath through his nostrils, attempting to rid the lingering scent from of his lungs. He examines your condition – clammy skin with little colour left in it. Eyes trailing up to your face, he could see the fear written all over it, along with something else. Something like –
“Jesus, what the hell were you thinking?!” Jake hisses through clenched teeth.
“D-dad. I-I can explain.” you stutter, throat so tight you can barely speak.
Jake pulls his head back, eyelids blinking furiously. It’s as if the scent quite literally hit him, square in the jaw. With his suspicions confirmed, his lips stretch into a thin line, his go to expression of disapproval. The type that makes your ears lay flat against your skull, and bottom lip jut out.
“I can smell him on you.” Jake brushes past you. “Stay with your brother.”
“Dad, please.” your voice is strained, fighting against the lump in your throat. “Where are you going?”
He stops dead in his tracks, back still turned to you, a hand flying up to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. “To Tonowari, kid. Tsireya will teach you from now on.” He heaves a heavy sigh and walks away.
The anxiety quickly morphs into anger, bubbling in your veins and sizzling your skin. Your short fuse blows. How could he take this away from you? You weren’t a ‘kid’ anymore. You had passed your iknimaya back home, and you’re on the brink of passing it here, too. Despite that, he always treats you like this, like the late bloomer you are. He didn’t even care to know what really happened.
“Not a fucking kid!” you shout after him, only for him to shake his head and continue walking.
“Sis.” Neteyam mutters, gently guiding you into the marui pod by your arm.
You shrug him off, storming past him to dive into your bed, burying your face into your pillow – damp from last night’s tears. It only becomes wetter as your fresh tears stream down your face. You couldn’t help it, you cried whenever you felt overwhelmed with anything. Sadness. Happiness. Anger. Frustration.
The sound of your privacy curtain being drawn back snaps your head up from your pillow. It’s Neteyam, standing over you with a face of concern, a bowl of steamed fish in one hand and a cup of water in the other. He sighs quietly, crouching down to come eye to eye with you. “You were in heat, weren’t you?” He states, already knowing the answer. “You should eat and drink something.” He places the bowl and cup on the floor next to you.
You sit up, supporting your torso with your arms behind your back. Neteyam. The older, caring bother, always looking out for everyone but himself. Of course, he would be the one to care enough to find out what you’ve been through the past day. “Yup. Late bloomer finally got her heat.” you speak of yourself harshly, taking the cup of water and chugging it.
“You smell gross.” he chuckles breathily, nudging the bowl of fish closer to you.
“Thanks, big brother. Appreciate it.” you giggle between cries, nudging it back to him. “Not hungry.”
His arms rest on his knees, braids swaying in his face as he looks behind him before dropping his head. “Agh.” he lifts his head, staring at you for a few seconds, as if he were contemplating something. “You should not have done that. Not before your iknimaya.”
“I didn’t! Nothing... like that happened, Tey. Ralak isn’t like that.” your head hangs low as you utter the words. “He’s... a gentle giant.”
Neteyam scoffs, straightening his spine. “Gentle giant? He looks like he eats na’vi for breakfast.”
“Hey –” you sniffle, glaring up at him, “I like him, Tey. A lot. He’s good for me.”
Neteyam’s features soften. As if hearing your words plucked a string of sympathy in his heart. As much as he wants to help you, he can’t. Not with a direct order from his father. He shakes his head, eyes closed, and brows furrowed.
That’s his way of saying, ‘Sorry. Can’t’.
You sigh, bringing your knees to your chest to hide your face. You can smell Ralak’s scent now that your nose is near your thighs. It fills your lungs with every breath you take. His pheromones. His aphrodisiac. His arousal. He left it all on you, rubbed into your skin so deep it seems to have altered your own scent.
Is this what scenting does?
Soon you’re breathing heavily, trying to savour what left you have of him – of last night. It makes you heavy in the head, like all the strength has left your body. You feel your face warm up, the heat spreading to the tips of your ears. You’re tired. Defeated.
You hear Neteyam shuffling to his feet to go and check what his brother is on about. “Stay here, got it?”
“Mhm.” you hum, too tired to even lift your head.
The sound of Lo’ak yanking back your privacy curtain makes you jump out of your skin, nearly knocking over the bowl of steamed fish. You stare up at him wide eyed, to see him motioning over to the door of your marui. Your brows kiss in confusion, unsure of what’s going on.
“Heard you were in... hea-a situation. Just gonna borrow big bro for a second, cool?” he raises his brows, nudging his head towards the door in an emphasized manner.
A smile pulls at your lips once you realize what he’s doing for you. You wipe your puffy eyes with the back of your hand and shuffle to your feet. “I owe you, Lo’.”
Ralak’s POV
Ralak rouses to an empty bed. He sits up quickly, scanning his marui for any sign of you. Nothing. The only thing that remains is your potent scent flooding the room. The only proof that you were ever here. “Oh, y/n.” he groans, head slumping into his hands.
You were gone. Gone like you were never here to begin with. Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he tried not to assume the worst. But what if – what if it was the worst? To be used and discarded like an object. All over again. Surely, there’s no way that you would do this to him, not after opening-up to you like that. Not after last night. Not after the words you uttered to one another before going to sleep –
‘I love you’.
But why does it feel the same? The same as that day. The day he was in a marui pod like this one, young, bare skinned and short haired, kneeling before his own karyu. His chest tightens, the walls of his throat closing in on one another. He can feel it creeping up his spine. The flashbacks. The tremors. The nausea. Rushing to his feet, he makes his way over to the shelf well-stocked with bottles of ‘fermented fruit’ – pxir [beer; alcohol].
A poison to many, but an antidote to him.
Dust had settled on the bottles since the last day he reached for them. The day you became his tanhì. That’s why he had never brought you up here, he never wanted you to see the truth. The way he copes with his emotions – bottling them up and then chugging it down when they became just too much.
The bottle opens with a pop, strong, bitter scent wafting up his nose, replacing the scent of you in his lungs. He takes a quick swig, baring his teeth from the sting of it trickling down his throat. “Ahh.” He sighs a breath of relief, feeling the alcohol already taking effect, loosening his chest, and clearing his throat.
Yet he can still feel the shiver of his spine, and the churn of his stomach.
“Shit.” he curses, taking another swig. Cursing himself for trusting another after he made the vow to never trust again. Another swig. For facing the part of him that he’s denied since he came into adulthood. Another swig. For letting someone in. Another swig. For allowing himself to love you.
Alas, a clear mind and body – rid of the memories of his past.
He readies himself for his bath, something he often did to relax. Just like he did last time you left him.
----
Time is of the essence. With no idea of when Jake will be back, you move quickly. You weave through the webbing of the mangrove roots, ducking and dodging those that jut out. You take a short cut, bouncing over the netting of a cluster of marui pods on the way to Ralak’s.
Eyes guardedly stuck to your feet, you bump into Ka’ani, the man who replaced Ralak’s role as fisherman – faceplanting into his bare chest. Arms instinctively wrapping around you, he holds you close until you regain your balance. Admittedly, he’s a little too close for comfort, his face nestled in the crown of your head. You hear quick, nasally breaths, muffled by your hair.
Is he... sniffing me right now?
You shove him off you, probably a little too rough to be considered friendly, and take a few steps back. “Sorry, Ka’ani.” you mutter, gingerly walking around him.
“No problem, at all.” he smirks, raising his hands and making space for you to leave.
With a quick shake of your head, you continue making your way to Ralak. The closer you get, the more a giddy smile spreads across your face. Though you were the bearer of bad news, you can’t ignore the flutters in your stomach. The same flutters you had when you first laid eyes on him – the day Eywa herself told you he’s the one.
Your mate.
Your legs move faster, as fast as they can go, until the sand slackens your steps. Silky, fine sand – always the first thing to let you know that you’ve arrived. You can’t help the excitement bubbling from your tummy and up your throat. “Ralak!” you blurt out, eager to find your love.
A tall figure in the distance catches your eye, it looks as if he were going into the cave. You wave your hands above your head, shouting his name as you lope towards him. “Ralak!”
The figure stops, turning around to acknowledge your calls. He stands still for a minute, before walking towards you with a stagger in his step. Tail perking up instantaneously, your hand flies to your bare hip, searching for your medicine pouch. You’re running on the tips of your toes again, concern and worry replacing the flutters low in your belly.
“Wha-t is it?” you shout, voice wavering as you close the distance between your bodies.
You crash into him with a smack, making the typically sturdy giant wobble. Now your ears art alert, perturbed by his odd behaviour. Gently pushing you away, his large hands grip your upper arms, fingertips touching once another. Blue, hazed orbs peer down at you, extra glossy and lidded.
“Are you sick? Wounded?” you question, resisting his gentle pushes to search his body.
Nostrils flickering above his pursed lips, he leans into your neck. He pulls back with a huff, blowing hot air through his nose, onto your face. Your eyelashes flutter, face of concern quickly morphing into one of confusion.
Everyone is sniffing me today.
Head snapping to the left, his eyes search the webs of the mangrove roots off in the distance. A guttural growl rumbles deep in Ralak’s chest, thinned lips curling over his canines, flashing them before your eyes. You watch in awe as his brows lower, knotting together to turn his eyes beady. Ears flat against his skull, the scent of another na’vi scrunches his nose.
That’s a new look.
“Ralak.” your voice is breathy and small – laced with fright.
His growl grows louder, coming from the pit of his stomach, deep and powerful. Lengthy fingers tightening around your arms, he spins you around and tucks you behind him in one swift move. His name slips off your tongue once more, quick, and unsure. He has one hand perched on the dip of your waist, holding you close behind this towering frame.
“Come out.” he growls gruffly, straightening his spine to present at his full height.
The two words double-knot your stomach, sending you wiggling into the sink of his back, face peeking through the crack of his arm and side. Your eyes flicker from side to side, looking for whatever – whoever he’s talking to. Meanwhile, your fingers grip the band on his loincloth, the only thing available on his body to hold.
Silence.
“Or I make you.” He rasps the warning through his four, pointed fangs.
Perhaps if Ralak wasn’t here the knots in your belly would have tightened by now, to the point where you would feel queasy. But the hiss fizzling from the back of his throat puts your nerves at ease – your body sensing its safety in his presence.
Out comes a brawny, wide na’vi, from behind the large, thick roots of the mangroves. His hands are splayed out, representing something of caution. No – surrender. He approaches Ralak slowly. Warily.
“Sorry, brother. I did not know she was yours.” Ka’ani says impishly.
Jaw snapping open, his hiss comes out full force. It’s loud and thick, almost grating. Much like a roar. Though you knew it wasn’t for you, it shook you up, tugging at the string in your grip as your body jolts forward into his.
“She belongs to no one.” His top lip twitches as he spits the vile words, stinging your heart in the process. Am I not his? What about last night? You think, tightening your grip on the band of his loincloth.
“It looks as if she belongs to you, Tak.” Ka’ani leans to the left, chin jutting out as he tries to catch a glimpse of you. “Look at her, holding on to your –”
“Lewng! [shame]. Tracking her scent.” Ralak hisses, turning his body to hide you from his predatory eyes. “Leave.”
“Ah. Come on now, brot-” He spreads his arms wide, walking around Ralak towards you.
Ralak takes a step forward on his last word, nearly coming chest to chest with the shorter na’vi. A moment of silence passes between the two, as Ralak stares him down with vengeance in his eyes. A hand flies up to his hip, gripping the knife sheathed in its casing. “Now.”
Ka’ani straightens his back, eyes flickering between Ralak and yours that peek from behind him. His hands retract, hovering either side of his head as he retreats. Ralak maintains his position, with a hand keeping you tucked away whilst the other rests on his hip. Once Ka’ani’s figure is no longer visible, Ralak sighs, and turns his heel to make his way back to his much-needed bath.
“Thanks...” you huff, walking close behind him.
“You women and your heats.” he mutters as he walks faster, ripping his loincloth out of your grip.
“Ex-cuse me?” your words bounce as you try to keep up with him. “You have no –”
“Do you understand what would have happened had I not been here? Do not be so reckless.” He tsks, as his feet come to a halt, balling his hands into fists.
“Reckless? All I did was walk here!” you shout, almost bumping into him again.
“Because you left to begin with.” he whispers through clenched teeth.
“What?” the question is breathy, hands perching on your knees to rest.
He turns around quickly, prompting you to stand at full height. Breathing heavily, he presses his warm body against yours, chin tucked into his chest to peer down at you. Instinctively, you perch on the tips of your toes, eyes lidded in anticipation of a kiss. Instead, he brings your wrists up to his nose, heated lips pressing against your supple skin.
“He scented you.” he mumbles quickly, lips pulling into a thin line before letting go and backing away.
“Why? How? I only bumped into him.” you walk towards him, watching him turn his heel again. “Hey –” you reach out for his arm to pull him back around.
First you leave him this morning, then come back scented by another na’vi. He shrugs you off, hands now fiddling with the knot above the base of his tail as he nears the entrance of the cave. The knot of his loincloth comes undone, heavy, sheathed hunting knife silently making impact with the sand.
“Because he wants everything that’s mine.”
So, I am his. You think, one corner of your mouth curling upwards into a smirk.
“Oh, Ralak.” You stand at the cave’s opening, waiting in silence for a response.
He continues to keep his back turned to you, dips of his clenched glutes on full display. Despite last night, seeing him naked still makes you shy, cheeks turning red and hot from the blood that rushes to them. You watch him hastily put his hair in a sloppy bun as he submerges himself in the water.
“I need to speak with you about this morning” you mumble, eyes locked onto the ripple of his back muscles.
“No need. I understand.” he answers lowly, shimmying over to the bottle of fermented fruit propped on a rock in the cave.
“Understand what? It’s about –”
“You made a mistake. It was your heat. It is fine.” he mutters quickly, taking a swig at the last word.
A mistake? My heat?
The realization hits you, hard. You’d been so out of it, so delirious from your heat you hadn’t given a second thought about his confession. His trauma that he confided in you, in this very cave. It’s like stones in your heart – no, boulders. Weighing it down so heavily that it feels like there’s a pulse in your stomach.
How could you be so cruel? So thoughtless? So insensitive? To not even wake him and utter the words to his face. To allow him to wake up to an empty bed after letting down his walls and being so vulnerable to you. To be so caught up in your own head you couldn’t even bat an eye at the man who helped you through your first heat.
“Oh. Oh, Lak. No. No, it’s nothing like that.” you sputter out a trembling voice, sliding into the water to rush over to him. You rest your hand on his upper back, taking in the warmth of his skin. He feels feverish – hot to the touch.
What is he drinking?
You rub his back gently, bioluminescent freckles dancing from your caresses. Yet, he’s rigid. Cold. Distant. He’s not the Ralak you know, swaying side to side as he brings the lip of the bottle to his mouth.
“Stop, my love.” you coo, sliding your hand up his raised arm as you walk around him. Pulling the bottle away from his lips, you cautiously place the pxir on a nearby ledge. “Ralak.” you whisper, staring up at him with worried eyes.
The sound of his name falling from your lips tilts his head back ever so slightly, like it pained him to even look at you. Curly, loose stands of hair frame his face, accentuating his angular features. He attempts to fix his mask of indifference to his face, but you can see through it. You see the anguish glossed over his lidded, inebriated eyes.
Ocean blue eyes.
tw: flashback
His mind is elsewhere, dissociating back to the day of the incident. The night of his iknimaya celebration, where his own karyu cornered him in his family marui, engulfing him with her pheromones. Manipulating him with her heat to take care of her. To touch her.
He can hear the waves crashing into the shore, the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof of the marui, the roll of the thunder – her whispers in his ear, ‘I’ve been waiting too long for this. You are officially a man now. Make your karyu feel better, right here...’.
The smell of her pheromones is suffocating, more potent than any fermented fruit he’s ever had. It frightened him, feeling like he had no self-control. No way to stop his movements, no matter how much he screamed at his body to move, run – anything.
It is what made him vow to never lose control of himself. His composure.
He can feel the heaviness of his body. The lethargy. The way his lungs refused to fill, no matter how hard he tried to breathe. When he woke, he was alone, sitting in the corner in a pool of his own sweat, curled in on himself. His karyu left, to never return. Leaving nothing but the lingering smell of her heated scent behind.
tw: end of flashback
“My karyu” you hum softly, placing his hand on your chest.
When you first called him that, he almost grimaced. But as time passed, you made the word bearable. You gave it a new meaning, a new feeling. Eventually filling him with eagerness to hear it fall from your flushed lips. In tones of excitement, frustration... pleasure.
You hold his thumb, and give it a squeeze, trying to bring him back from wherever he is. Your heart weighed even heavier, seeing him drift away and detach when he’s right in front of you. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. Feel me. Feel my heartbeat. Focus on it and come back to me.”
The words echo in his skull, reverberating between the thick bone. He can hear you, feel you. With each thump of your heart, the heaviness of his body lifts, the scent of her fades, the pitter-patter of the storm subdues until nothing, but that thump can be heard. His eyes finally flicker down to yours, ears and brows twitching at the pulse of your heart.
Only a bottle could do that for him. Bring him back. Yet, you did it with the mere sound of your heart.
“I’m sorry, Lak. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I was so thoughtless. I’m sorry... that happened to you.” the words are shaky, flowing over your quivering bottom lip. “I would never. Ever. Ever. Ever –” you blubber, shaking your head, “Ever, do that to you. I-I had to leave because of my father. He’s punishing me. Forbidding me from seeing you. Having Tsireya teach me instead. I should have woken you.”
Another arm snakes around his waist, bringing him in closer to you. You slump your head into his chest, letting the tears flow and stain his skin. “I don’t regret a thing. I meant everything I said. I-I see you, Ralak” you sputter, breath hitching from the crying.
“Tanhì” he croaks, kissing the crown of your head as he wraps his arms around you to hold you closer.
“I love you” The three words are said in unison as you cling onto one another.
Alcohol still coursing through his veins, Ralak’s heavy body slumps into you, slowly shifting you both against the cave wall. He presses your back against the rocky surface, unwrapping his arms from your waist to support his body weight with a hand on the wall. He leans in, brushing his cheek against yours.
“I will miss you.” he whispers huskily next to the shell of your ear.
“I’ll miss you, too.” you whisper back, head pulling back to meet his gaze.
Your eyes lock for a moment, an undeniable tension now budding in the air and making your breaths quicken. He inches even closer, lips brushing against yours as you exchange the same hot breath until you’re light in the head.
He kisses you roughly – sloppily.
Tongue slipping into your mouth, you get a taste of what he’s been drinking all day. It’s a little sweet, with undertones of various fruits native to the reef people. But once the sweetness wears off, the bitter aftertaste makes your brows gather. He pulls away, revealing heavy-lidded eyes with thin blue rings for irises, flickering side to side as they stare into yours.
Chests heaving in synchrony, you both struggle to catch your breath. Hands cupping each other’s face, your lips crash into one another again, body language hungry and desperate for each other’s touch. Ralak shoves his knee between your legs, providing you with the friction your body has been begging for. Your body moves on its own, humping at his thigh as best you can in the water.
“I-I want... you.” The desperate words part your bruised, flushed lips, hand sliding up his back to caress his kuru [queue].
He shakes his head, brows gathering tightly. “Not now. Not here. We do it the right way.”
“Then...” you pant, voice laced with desperation as your hands make their way to his hips, dainty fingers wrapping around his hardened girth, “...give me something else.”
Breath turning raggedy, he struggles to maintain his composure. The influence of the alcohol surging through his body proves it to be an even more difficult task. He takes a deep breath, withdrawing his knee from your legs to spin you around in one quick motion. Ralak tries his best to be gentle with you, shoving you into the wall to press his aching cock against you.
A soft moan parts your lips; thin, fuzzy tail wrapping around his thigh in attempts to bring you closer. Eywa, did that push him closer to the edge. Your tail had been one of his favourite things about you from the day you first locked eyes, so slender and delicate. Nothing like his. It not only fascinated him. It aroused him.
It makes him push into you even harder, tip of his cock throbbing against your lower back. He craves to be even closer to you – to be inside you. To rut into you until your voice becomes so hoarse from screaming his name. Over and over. Again, and again. Fingers hurriedly fiddling with the knot of your loincloth, he pants a few greedy, rough kisses along your upper back.
“Oh! Ralak, I-I think –” you moan lowly, his touches throwing you into a daze.
“What?” he huffs, fingers coming to a halt in fear that he’s being too rough with you.
“I think I’m still in heat.” you lie, or maybe it wasn’t a lie. You feel so woozy in the head that you’re not even sure what’s going on anymore. All that sits at the forefront of your mind is him claiming you as his.
“Is that so?” he lets out a breath of relief, a chuckle if you will.
“Yes. Can you help me?” you pant, trembling voice feigned with innocence.
“Ah. Let me check, little one.” He buries his face into the nape of your neck, pulling back with a loud sigh through his nose. A growl rumbles in his chest and up his throat. “I can still smell him.” The scent of another so deep into your skin makes him want to mark you. To sink his lengthy canines into your neck for the smell to seep out, only to be replaced by his.
“Then fix it.” you breathe, head dipping forward to open yourself up to him.
“Oh?” he smiles open mouthed, brushing his pointed fangs against your silken skin, making your back arch on instinct. Submitting to him and his touch. Open mouth lingering over your neck, his jaw closes to graze his teeth against you. He sucks lightly on your skin, puckered lips pulling off with a pop.
Of course, he’d make you wait for that too. He was only ‘helping’ you, right now.
He kicks your feet apart, spreading your legs for him to settle in closer behind you. A string of your slick connects your thighs together, breaking apart when he rubs his cock against your bare cunt. He begins rubbing his face into the back of your neck, scenting you as his.
“Mine. Yes?” he growls, thrusting himself against your slippery slit.
“Yes.” You spread your legs further apart, standing on the tips of your toes to provide him with better access. “Please.” You let out a pathetic mewl.
He grunts in frustration. He wants nothing more than to thrust himself inside you, stretching your pussy out with his huge cock. And with those little, sweet pleas, it’s almost too hard to resist. But he does. He pulls away, gaze snapping down to the rope of wetness connecting your most intimate parts together.
Cocking a brow, his hand comes between your sticky pelvises, fingers coiling around the string of slick before they glide over your pussy and spread your folds. Your wetness drips down his digits, pooling in the palm of his hand. “So wet. Maybe you are in heat.” he mumbles, pressing his lips against your back, peppering kisses down the curve of your shoulder.
Ralak fondles with your puffy clit, rubbing tight circles into it with his slickened fingertips. Your hips squirm around from the white-hot pleasure tightening your core. It’s just not enough. Perhaps it’s just residual heat, but you feel so, so empty. A yearning deep in your womb, to be filled and stretched. Your hips buck forward, slipping his fingertips to prod at your entrance, before pushing back on him to try and sink them inside you.
Needy body language riling up the giant behind you, his harsh kisses move their way up to your ear. “Say it, tanhì.” he groans lowly, positioning his finger at your tight hole.
“I n-need you inside of me!” you cry desperately, shoving yourself back into him.
“You listen so well, paysyul.” he exhales a hot breath into the shell of your ear, sinking his thick finger inside you, twisting his wrist so that he can curl it right into your sweet spot.
“Oh, shit.” you moan breathily, cheek pressed firmly against the rocky wall.
“That is why you learn so quickly.” He fingers you roughly, expertly working out a squelch with each curl of his digit.
The feeling is like heat, shooting down your spine and pooling in your pelvis. It makes your hips spasm, chasing the fiery sensation in hopes to put it out. His finger brings relieve, satiating the itch as your sweet spot swells from pure bliss. He knows exactly where to touch, and how to touch.
Yet, it still isn’t enough.
“More! ‘ts not enough!” you cry, writhing underneath him.
He finds your little cries amusing, letting a chuckle evade his lips. How could something so small act so mighty? He slides another digit in, feeling your tight pussy walls stretch to accommodate him. He hears the little whimper bubbling up your throat, letting him know you need a moment to adjust.
“Taking my fingers so well, hm?” he praises you with a shaky voice, planting a gentle kiss behind your ear.
“Mmmn! Please!” Another plea falls from your lips, a plea for him to move – to make you cum. He sets a relentless pace, stimulating the sensitive spot in your gummy, hot walls, working lengthy moans and mewls from you.
With the way he’s fingerfucking you, it feels as if your nerves are on fire. The coil tightly wound in your core ready to snap any second now. Your brows pinch together in fervour, mouth falling open to allow heavy, hot breaths to escape.
“Close! So close! Gonna! Gonna –” Your words catch in your throat, leaving you breathless and tense around his fingers.
“Make yourself cum.” he orders gruffly, stopping all movement once he feels you tighten around his digits.
You gasp, hips moving on their own to chase the orgasm he just took away from you. “No, no. You know I can’t. Please.” you sputter, pushing against the wall to ride his fingers.
“You can. And you will.” he growls, bending his fingers as encouragement.
You quickly accept your fate, holding on tightly to whatever pleasurable feeling remains and running with it. You push back on him, squirming around as you try to make yourself cum. Closing your eyes, you tune into your body, feeling what feels good and where. But the position that you’re in makes it even harder to do it yourself.
“Just fuck me!” you cry desperately, frustration so pent up you couldn’t help the outburst.
“Language.” he hisses, shoving his fingers so deep inside you that your slick coats his knuckles.
“Fuck! Please.” you beg, reaching behind you to grab his wrist.
“No.” he smirks, looking down at how your cunt sucks in his digits, listening to your pleading and begging.
He just wants to hear a little more. To hear how badly you want him. He loves the way you squirm around, sputtering nonsense from being so fucked out by just his fingers. He loves the little noises your pussy makes for him and can’t wait to hear how they’ll sound once his cock is stuffed inside you.
“Ralak. Please. Please make me cum!” you cry, using his wrist as leverage to fuck back into him.
He slides his hand down your stomach, fingers playing with your swollen, neglected clit. He’s pumping his digits in and out of your dripping cunt, feeling your slick dribble down his hand. It doesn’t take long for you to near your climax, pussy walls clamping down around his fingers.
“Let go. Cum for me.” he groans, swollen tip of his cock oozing beads of precum onto your lower back.
“Oh, fuckfuckfuck!” you let out a hoarse cry, entire body shuddering underneath him “Cumming! Cumming!”
“That’s my girl.” he hums proudly, scissoring his fingers open to stretch you out.
You let out a high-pitched whimper, hint of pain making your eyes water. Then a wave of ecstasy ripples through you, leaving your legs trembling beneath you. He snakes his arm around your waist, holding you up while you ride out of your high, sprinkling your shoulder with kisses.
Once you come down from your high, you lean back into him, resting your head against his chest. Huffing and puffing, you try to catch your breath as you turn around to cup his swollen balls. “My turn to make you feel good.”
To your surprise, he rests a hand on your arm, pulling it away from him. He looks down at you through blown pupils, arousal plastered all over his face. Beads of sweat trickle down his temples, wet strands of curled hair stuck to his cheeks, he sighs the words. “Not today, tanhi. I must get you back, now.”
kianamaiart
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