self insert rambles

vash's eyes go cartoonishly wide, and even in the dim light of the bar you can see his cheeks stain as pink as the lenses of his novelty eyewear.

"oh!" he says, suddenly fidgety but undeniably pleased by your admission. he's flustered, and stumbles a little over his words in his haste to say something back. "i think you're cute too! really cute!"

it's remarkably awkward, and terribly endearing, and you inch closer to him without thinking. you're still tucked away in the little corner the two of you had claimed as your own, and vash doesn't seem remotely offput by your approach–in fact, he meets you halfway like he's drawn nearer by an unseen force, angling his body so the rest of the crowd disappears from view behind his broad shoulders. it's easy to forget where you are when you're this close to him. easy to forget you've only just met. easy to forget there's anyone else around but the two of you.

slowly you reach up, using your fingertips to tilt the heart shaped glasses off of the delicate slope of his nose. his messy blonde hair ends up pinned underneath them, pushed back from his face, as you rest them atop his head. his eyes are even prettier now that you can see them better, the blue is more striking without the purple hue cast by the lenses, and the little beauty mark underneath his eye is easier to see too.

"can i buy you a drink?" you ask him quietly, so close to him now that you have no choice but to look into his eyes (or, more damningly, let your gaze flicker down to his mouth.)

vash's lips part, and you can't help yourself but to look at them. you can't help but watch his tongue dart out to sweep across them nervously. he shakes his head a little bit, and for a moment you're confused. had you misread the signs? misinterpreted something? was this pull you felt in the pit of your stomach entirely one sided? your eyes flutter back up to meet his, your brow furrowing slightly.

you're almost startled by vash's expression; so blatant in its desire. his eyelids are a little heavier than they had been just an instant prior, and his blue eyes scan every inch of your face raptly. he's so close to you now that you can feel the warmth of his breath, and you can almost taste that fluorescent fruity drink he'd been sipping when you'd first approached him on his lips.

"why not?" you breathe the question out, but the words are almost entirely air. he can only hear you because he's so impossibly close.

"i don't really want another one," he admits quietly, his lashes fluttering.

your heartbeat thrums underneath your skin and you swear it's in time to the beat of the song that plays through the bar. you feel a flutter of anticipation welling up through your chest.

"what do you want?" you ask him, but you think you might know considering the way his eyes haven't stopped watching your lips.

he dips forward ever so slightly, but then he hesitates, a look of panic flashing across his impossibly pretty face like he's worried he's done the wrong thing.

You’d awoken to explosions and shrieks. The wind was bloated with smoke and the metallic stench of nitroglycerin. It took you a minute, to recognize that you were in a tropical climate and another minute to realize that it was off. The birds sang in a staccato warble. The sky was pocked by too many suns. The light was different. Coppery. Golden. It was not right.

Confused and somewhat in shock, you’d gone stiff with fear. The others ran, barking orders in military codes you couldn't parse. They ducked and swerved, sliding deep into the brush and foliage of the jungle. 

You couldn’t recall their names. Ryan, maybe? Grant? Laura? Michael? Anne and Lila?

What had alarmed them? What had set them off? Your chest shuddered with anxiety as your lungs struggled to expand. Everything inside you shriveled.

You had been dropped into a warzone. Your colleagues hadn't even called to you. Maybe, they didn't notice. It became increasingly apparent that you were alone, which only made your panic explode in the trap of your ribs.

And yet, you remained solid as a statue. Immovable.

Even as the yelling dissipated and the others had obviously fled, you simply stood there. The jungle became a jungle once more. Waxy and alive. Humid and slick with condensation.

It had gone quiet aside from the unmistakable sound of snapping branches and heavy footsteps. Birds darted across the blue-green sky.

You caught movement at the corner of your vision. You swallowed.

A creature appeared out of the unsettling, dark maw of the jungle. Still paralyzed with terror, you remained where you were as the giant strode toward you, his face covered by a blank, metal mask. There were others scattered behind him. Flashes of scales and silver. Shadows maneuvering through the tree line. You swear you saw the air itself flicker and warp like it hung over scorched asphalt.

The creature had to be seven feet tall, at least. He was built like a man, broad and incredibly muscular. His skin reminded you of a crocodile as it glimmered beneath fine black netting. He had thick fingers with blunt claws. Long, cylinder like dreadlocks. As he regarded you intently, he growled low.

It cracked you out of your stupor.

On instinct, you fell to your knees. You ducked your head, mouth practically pressed to the leaf-strewn floor. Please. Please. 

You began to cry, whimpering like a wounded animal. 

There were a few clicks, a snarl and finally you felt a rough touch under your chin. The creature lifted it, he tilted your face to the side. It seemed as if he did it forever. Hours. Minutes. You didn’t know. Within the masks' eye holes, a startling bright gaze raked over you. 

Around his neck, there was a necklace of bones. Teeth. Fragments and shards. Tiny animal skulls and what looked like a human jaw bone. You choked on a sob, tears burning as they slid down. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think.

This was a monster. Top of the food chain. You felt like you were asking for mercy from a great white shark.

Finally, he snarled and released your chin. He stood, towering over your prostrated form. This was it. Shutting your eyes, you waited for the hit, the fatal slash of one of those serrated blades hanging from his waist. Maybe, he’d do it by hand and pop your head like a grape.

Nothing.

You opened your eyes to find him crooking a finger at you, motioning you to follow him. 

You should have been the first to be killed and yet you weren’t. 

***

Out of survival, you listened to him. This creature. You’d assessed that he was a hunter. He had a clan of sorts and none of them appeared all that interested in you. When he had brought you to his camp, you’d received cursory glances from them, their glowing blue eyes catching you from their smooth helmets. A few clicks and grunts were aimed at you, but nothing more. 

Regardless, you stuck to your creature like a leech, hoping he was at least uninterested in eating you. It was either him or the others and he'd already saved you once.

Your creature held weight there. You were certain of that. They seemed to treat him with a dignified reverence as he stalked through the camp. He was covered in white tattoos that crawled across his chest. His armor was night-black. He was one of the larger ones. Broad and tall and could be as still as a damn statue.

As the days began to blend, you were utterly bewildered.

You didn’t comprehend why he had spared you. Perhaps, you were to be bait? Entertainment? You were beginning to feel like a pet with the way he’d disappear into the jungle and bring you back headless, skinless animals of unknown origin. He’d tried to feed them to you raw and you’d had to explain to him that it would make you sick. It involved a lot of gestures and retching noises until, finally, he made a rasping groan that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.

He built you a fire after that, unmistakably huffing when you overcooked the meat.

***

It took you a week to realize, the thing could understand you. You had resorted to calling him Hunter, in addition to Fuckface, Asshole, and oversized Dino-Crab.

He responded to none of them, of course. But the last one had been your initial reaction to his face.

A few days into your hostage situation, he lifted his helmet in your presence to eat. You gasped. You hadn't meant to, but it was...a lot. He narrowed his eyes, clicking in annoyance. He said something to you that you couldn't translate.

Finally, he shoved a raw slab of bleeding meat into his mouth. His gaze still hot on your face as you openly watched him, filing away every feature of his species. The sloped head, the spikes, the tusks and small eyes. You could admire the alien for what it was. An Apex predator. 

"You're like a crab kind of. A crab and a dinosaur...a Dino-Crab?"

He exhaled sharply and shook his head. He spoke again and the word sounded suspiciously like weak. You gaped at him.

"Did you understand that?" you yelped.

He cocked his head, his expression twisting into something like a leer.

"Fuck," you hissed. You'd been insulting him to his face since he'd taken you. He began to laugh. At least, you thought it was a laugh.

***

You never saw the rest of your group. From what you gathered by the body language of the clan, they went out in hunting parties and then returned with large, skinned things (none of them human). Had they killed them out there? Were they still looking? They didn’t exactly seem in a particular hurry.

Sometimes they roared or thrust their spears at each other. Sometimes they'd get heated and would wrestle or spar.

In truth, it was like watching a pack of boys fucking around. You could tell when they were insulting each other, taunting and teasing. One creature had pointed in your direction and your captor had hissed at him, punching him so hard across the face that his tusks clacked. 

***

Time passed. The days were washed in unbearable heat and the nights were icy and wet. 

The Hunter slept beside you, seemingly content that you’d never dare run away. You didn’t. You were too fucking scared of whatever was out there. This was an alien planet with alien monsters. A plant could release poisonous spores. The rivers could be hiding deadly, hungry things.

Perhaps, they’d leave this planet and return to Earth to pick up more humans. Perhaps, he’d let you go, irritated at the fact that you could do nothing, but cower around him.

He never seemed angry with you. Just observant. Curious. When the wind was especially frigid, you'd find yourself curling up against his thigh or arm. He didn't push you away.

This was survival. You had no other choice. At least, that's what you told yourself.

***

“Jesus Fucking Christ,” you screeched as you scrambled back on your ass. Your chest hitched, your skin immediately beginning to prickle in a cold sweat. 

The snake hissed at you, coiled and poised to strike. It looked venomous. Purple-pink with a viper-head. Its eyes glinted like pieces of obsidian against the long grass. 

“Oh fuck,” you wheezed as you began to skitter further only to crash into something very hard. You glanced up to see the Hunter. Once again, he tilted his head in curiosity as if confused why you’d scream at this. 

Snakes scared the fuck out of you and this thing was pissed. Choosing the lesser of two evils, you quickly clutched at the Hunter’s leg, pressing your cheek to his knee. He jerked an inch, but didn’t shake you off. 

“Kill it,” you begged. “Please.”

Wordlessly, he flung a mercury-silver dagger at the snake just as it attempted to strike. It bled yellow and you felt your stomach turn over. 

“Thank you,” you managed to stammer.

He grunted, the tone somewhat exasperated. He roughly extricated himself from your grip and sauntered forward.

As you stared at the dead snake, your eyes widened. The pieces were still wriggling. You audibly gagged and the Hunter peeked over his should at you.

His expression was inexplicably amused. It was the only word you had for it. He was laughing at you. He picked up both his knife and the snake from the dirt.

“Just toss it somewhere,” you suggested. “It’s-

He sliced down the belly, skinning it in one fell swoop. You scowled at him and he clicked at you. “We’re eating that aren’t we?” He clicked again, jerking his finger in what you now understood as follow me, stupid ass human. 

***

The back of your neck ached from the insertion. You could not stop scratching right beneath your ear, scraping until it all went raw and bloody. Out of nowhere, the Hunter had picked you up and carried you over his shoulder into a small pod at the edge of their encampment. It was a steel room. A metal table. Machines that beeped and whirred. It smelled of antiseptic. When you realized it was a medical facility, you immediately went rigid.

“You’re - you’re not going to probe me are you?” 

Ignoring you, the Hunter fumbled in a drawer before stepping toward the table. With you still over his shoulder, he managed to clamber onto it before forcing you down into his lap. One clawed hand collared the nape of your neck to hold you steady. 

“What are you -”

Pain. Sharp and splitting erupted behind your ear. 

You screamed, lurching in his arms as you elbowed him in the gut. Of course, it only made him growl against your cheek, his breath heavy as it dragged across your skin. 

“Quiet,” he barked. 

You stopped. Did he just? You shook your head, trying to expel the dizziness, the ringing in your ears. 

"Am I dead?" you whispered, seizing the meaty forearm around your waist to anchor yourself. "Did you just shoot me?"

“You are a very strange female,” he muttered and you went slack against him. 

***

The two of you had started to go off on your own hunts. Not like you were much help. You’d travel for days, returning to the camp only for a night of sleep and then to restock. Even though you now understood him, he barely spoke. He gave you one-word answers or just guttural noises of confirmation or refusal. Mostly, refusal.

Out of necessity, you began to read his body language to decipher his moods. On a hunt, his posture was constantly crouched in a prowl as if ready for an attack. Knees slightly bent, head cocked. You tried to follow along, uncertain about your purpose since you were surely just slowing him down.

Bored, you watched him climb a tree and scan the area for whatever threat or prey he was scouting for. You remained on the floor - left to toe at the dirt and wait. You’d begun to understand that this was sport for him. He enjoyed it. He drank it and fed into it and nothing seemed to excite him more than killing something. 

He dressed in his victims.

When he shimmed down the tree, you tried to ignore the way the muscles in his back flexed. “Come,” he ordered and you followed.

As he stalked ahead of you, you studied his decorations. The bones and fragments of skulls and teeth that hung around his throat. They bounced across his shoulders and broad chest as he strode deeper into the green-black jungle. The tubular dreadlocks shifted in the wind. His armor reflected the twin suns.

To you, he was obscure in so many ways. He refused to give you answers and it was wearisome. Out here and alone with him, you decided to speak up.

“Why did you spare me?” Your voice was a little high-pitched, far more nervous than you intended. He was moving too quickly for your shorter legs to keep up.

“You would not be a worthy hunt.” His tone was flat and he didn’t turn to look at you.

“Why am I here then?” You were soaked in sweat, your feet ached in your improper sneakers you’d had to wear since you’d been dropped into this nightmare.

He didn’t reply. He simply continued forward, his pace deliberate and fast as he crossed through the dense foliage.

“Are you going to experiment on me or something? Breed me with your crab babies?”

That caught his attention. He abruptly stopped, shooting you a glance over his shoulder. His mask made him such an emotionless presence - foreboding and cruel. It gave nothing away, but it was not like you could really decipher the crustacean-like thing beneath it. “Breed you?”

“Yes...”

In a flash, he was in front of you, crowding into your space. Your head could only reach the middle of his chest and you had to lift your chin dramatically to even meet his gaze. “Why would I breed something so very small and weak?”

You bit your lip. Good question.

“Yautja only breed warriors, little one,” he explained, his voice very matter-of-fact. It almost felt like he was…letting you down gently. Wait - did he think you were asking him to breed you? Implying you’d wanted to get dicked down by this 7 ft tall monster who would no doubt tear you in half? “Our females are bigger than us…be content you have not met one. They are quite territorial."

Your mouth dropped open. You wanted to protest that that wasn't what you had meant, but he was too close for you to process anything like speech. You could make out the pattern of tattoos across his chest, the taut skin and tubular hair. Against your will, your stomach began to flutter. Your skin grew warm, flushed with an intensity that only bloomed hotter as he regarded you silently. The place between your thighs ached.

He made a low, sharp noise in the back of his throat and suddenly stepped away from you. He shook his head as if trying to clear it. He sniffed.

Fucking Christ. Could he smell you? Your arousal? Were you aroused? Shit. Shit.

“Come,” he ordered. “We will have to stop somewhere to sleep tonight.”

Great. 

***

They took refuge in a cave beneath a large mountain. Beneath them, the dirt was a strange orange and the rock walls were mossy with lichen. A river gurgled by and the Hunter lit a fire for you.

You watched him undress, sliding off his chest plate and greaves. He undid his belt, but kept his metal bracers and netting on. He really was magnificent physically. The face was...terrifying, but the body? The thick arm muscles and broad shoulders, the thighs and cut abdominals. 

He dropped down beside you, stretching out on the bed he’d made from leaves.

You couldn’t avert your gaze from the structure of him.

It ignited a longing in your core that you were attempting to bury somewhere else. It was unspeakable. It was Stockholm Syndrome and it was demanding something from you. 

You would not. You shouldn’t entertain it.

You tried to focus on the wall beside you. You counted the cracks.

Even with the fire, the wind was frigid, it lapped at your body and sweat-damp clothes. You shivered against it, curling in on yourself until you heard the creature growl.

Without a word, he snatched you by the waist, turned you around, and hauled you against his flame-hot torso. Your nose was smushed into the bulging muscle of his bicep. His jaw dug along your skull. He rumbled, one of his clawed hands clamping down on the back of your head as he held you firmly.  Your knees knocked against his upper thighs, your feet sliding along his shins. Beneath your ear, you heard the heavy thump of his heart. It was strong - rhythmic.

“Stop wriggling, female,” he snapped. 

“Sorry,” you replied - the word muffled into his warm flesh. You couldn’t help it, everything in your system was screeching to get away from this thing that could surely eat you. You tried to get comfortable, but when your thigh brushed against his crotch he lurched and readjusted his grip around your waist. “Sorry,” you squeaked again and he sighed - audibly annoyed.

You had felt it though. Jesus. You had felt that. 

It wasn't helping you chill.

You stiffened again, unable to just mellow out. Your heart picked up. Your fingers trembling as they found the thick skin around his ribs.

“Hush,” he coaxed.

"I can't." You were whining now and he grumbled something under his breath before tugging you closer.

After a moment, the Hunter began to vibrate…he began to purr. Deep, warbling noises that sang from his chest and made your head rise and fall with the movement. Steadily, he stroked your back, his other hand still firmly palming the crown of your skull. He smelled clean, which surprised you. He smelled a bit like you as if you had coated him in your human pheromones. 

He whickered quietly and you eventually relaxed. 

“Yautja?” you murmured. “Is that your name?”

“My kind,” he returned. “My species.”

“Then what’s your name?”

He didn’t respond.

***

“Bathe,” he ordered as he pointed to a river beyond the tall grass. You glared at him. Fucking rude. 

“It’s not my fault I smell,” you shouted at him over your shoulder while walked toward the water. “You drag me around - all over this horrific planet without caring that I’m smaller than you and totally out of shape.”

You undressed, no longer minding if the Yautja saw you. You were exhausted, spread thin and, at some point, you’d given up. Did you want to die? No. But you were vulnerable and at the mercy of this thing. You were helpless. You weren't going back to Earth.

You splashed into the cool river, dunking your head before breaking the surface. 

Suddenly you realized how quiet it was. You froze, your gaze slanting to the side where your captor stood like a column of marble. His legs were braced apart, his large arms crossed over his chest. His eyes glittered in the dark afternoon light, his expression very pointed as it rested on you. 

He was blatantly staring; darting between your bare tits, your stomach and the curve of your ass hidden by the stream.

Calmly, he walked toward you, smoothly knifing his way through the gentle current. When he reached you, he lifted his hand before sliding his fingers up your naked arm and then crossing to run over your breast. When the tip of his nail skated along your nipple, you jolted. He hadn’t hurt you, but it had sparked a shock of of sensation. 

His eyes widened and he whickered under his breath. He touched you again, gingerly scraping over the beaded tip of your breast.

"Hunter," you murmured and he paused before uttering your name. It sounded strange off his tongue like he had difficult speaking it.

"You said-"

The birds startled in the trees, flying in all directions. He whirled around, gaze fastened to the shore where only the dirt and grass shifted in the breeze.

"Stay here," he growled as he cut his way back to land. "Cover yourself."

He did not call you back until late. 

***

The fever had broken you. It had been something stupid, too. You’d stumbled into a patch of gorgeous flowers. The petals had been pale purple and blue. They’d called to you as you stepped into the soft, velvet crush of them. A thousand colors. Rainbows and the scent of honey and blood and it made your ache.

You had heard the Hunter in the distance. He’d erupted with a startled noise. He’d told you to stop. He barked your name again and again as you sank into the silky bedding of the bright blooms.

But you did not. They’d consumed you. The pollen. Pink powder burst from their centers, causing you to sneeze.

It was only a moment before you felt strong arms band around your waist. Your Hunter had snatched you back, wrenching you away from the haze of pink.

Almost immediately, you felt your heartrate climb. His palm on your cheek was a relief. It was cool as the river beside you. You wanted him to take you to it, drown you in it. You wanted him all over.

Everything was so hot - flames - ripping up your skin and your cheeks and all of it swirling between your legs. You pulled helplessly at your shirt, your pants. You were trembling, a live wire of sensation. 

“Help me,” you pleaded. “Please…please…”

“It was the blood flower,” he stated solemnly, his golden eyes sliding from your face to something above you. “It makes you…need…”

Your hands fell to his shoulders and you clutched them, the muscles tensing under your touch. He had a permanent stern expression due to his facial structure, but now it looked like he was nervous. He seemed uncertain, fearful. 

He wasn't scared of anything.

Your vision distorted. Your ears began to ring with a harsh, grating rumble. You moaned.

“It will require me to -,” He paused, searching for the words before finally admitting: “...mate with you.”

Ah. It made all the sense in the world. That was what was screaming inside you. It demanded. It craved. It needed to be fed. Your hand fell to his groin and he did not push you away. You could feel it - unyielding, steel and hot smooth flesh. 

He scraped the pad of his finger across your cheek. “You understand that - that you are very small, female. It will hurt.”

“I don’t care,” you slurred. “I don’t - don’t care.” 

It all began to melt and melt. Your heart was in your throat. Your skin sheeting sweat. Suddenly, you felt warm, dry flesh against your cunt. He was cupping it. Your pants had disappeared. Lightly, he stroked the slit of your pussy, paying particular attention to your clit. It throbbed and your back arched away from the dirt. He pressed against your entrance.

“It…it grows very wet,” he observed, slightly awed. You felt him glide through your folds, collecting everything you could give him before pushing his soaked finger into you.

“Fuck,” you yelped, canting your hips up.

“There…,” he hummed. “Yes - open your legs wider.”

It was thick, stretching you obscenely as he curled and pushed deeper. The gesture was accompanied by the slopping noises of your cunt taking him and his expression twisted into something far more primal.

“More,” you demanded, rubbing the solid flesh of his stomach, the etched abdominal muscles that twitched under your hand.

“Patience,” he chastised, but you could feel how desperately aroused he was. He was pulsing with it and somewhere in the mess of that fever, you understood that he was trying to control himself. He continued to fuck you with his finger. When he withdrew it, he pressed a second to the first and pumped them back into you. You cried out, clenching around his knuckles. They were big, bigger than any man you'd had before. Abruptly, he stopped, face whipping down to yours.

Fuck. You tried to even out your breathing, biting your lower lip to ease the fullness between your legs.

"I must get you ready," he explained slowly. The fingers inside you moved an inch, a soft stroke like he was petting the walls of your cunt.

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “It’s - it’s fine - it’s good.” Your head once more grew heavy, cracking against the dirt as you dropped it. You needed everything inside you. The pain of arousal was beginning to worsen. It burned. As you tried to focus on him, your throat went dry. You were losing your ability to speak.

The Hunter lowered his face to yours, his voice terribly serious.

“Once I am inside you, I will not be able to stop.”

Was he refusing you? Would he resist?

You couldn’t.

You sat up on your elbows, your eyes swimming with tears of frustration. He had two of his thick fingers stuffed inside you and it was not enough. “I don’t care.”

There was a long stretch of silence before he nodded once.

He sat back on his heels and without another word, he gripped you by the hips and flipped you onto your stomach. You could feel him undoing his belt, his armor. You lifted your ass to him, presenting yourself. Not giving a fuck how this might look or if it was wrong because it had to be wrong. He had kidnapped you had he not? He had taken you. 

Who cares? It was all heat. It was all painful. Your heart was going to fall out of your mouth and onto the ground.

There was something solid and prodding against your heat. He gripped your waist, dragging the fat length of his cock through the folds of your sex. He drew back, nudging against your entrance before he began to breach you. It was a lot. Even in the haze of whatever this was, your body would not take him fully. He had to pet your sides, his other clawed hand fondling your clit. 

“Relax, little one,” he crooned. “Your cunt is having difficulty taking me.”

No fucking surprise there.

Also, that word coming out of his mouth had no business being that erotic.

You whimpered, dropping your cheek into the dirt. His hands on your ass spread you open, baring the flesh of your sex to him. You heard him spit and then felt it drip through your puffy folds.

"You must relax," he repeated and then purred again just as he had done when he got you to sleep in that cave.

He used his knees to widen your thighs further. He slid back, easing out to the tip before driving forward, sinking unbearably deep - hitting the very cup of your womb.  You were impaled on him - totally skewered on his cock. The gravel bit into your skin. Your toes curled; your forearms barely carried your weight.

Gingerly, your Hunter braced his forearm in front of your head, baring his body above yours. You could feel his chest against your back, his dreadlocks tickling your cheek. He eased out a few inches before plunging forward. He repeated this. Again and again.

It took your breath. You choked and, this time, he did not stop. He rocked into you, his pace now rough and deliberate as he claimed you in short, fast strokes. There was the unmistakable sound of slapping flesh, his hips snapping against your ass with every feral grunt. 

He pinned you beneath him and each thrust felt like it had punched your womb, your heart. It ached and that ache spread throughout your pelvis, your belly. It was warm and sweet as syrup and you wanted him to bruise you. You wanted him to break you in half. You wanted him to swallow you completely and perhaps he would.

***

He did not stop because he simply couldn’t. You’d catch your breath and then the fever would hit you again. You’d crumple, ripping at the Hunter, crying out for him like a broken thing. 

He’d wordlessly pull you into his lap, your hips bracketed in his enormous paws before he’d slam you down on his cock. You were full of him. He’d release you and there would be the unmistakable feeling of his seed seeping between your legs. Sometimes, he’d stare at it, watching it with a strange interest until he’d push it back into your body. You shuddered with the orgasms he delivered. He enjoyed touching you in new ways, occasionally hitching your knees over his shoulder so he could taste your cunt with his elongated tongue. It pleased him to bring you pleasure. 

Fucking you seemed alien to him. A new sensation. The sex was constant. Hour and hours and he never tired. He tugged your legs over his bulging thighs before feeding his cock into you. It would still make you twitch with a bright sting at the thick of him, but you’d take it regardless. He’d fuck you slow - sawing his hips - gliding forward and back as his predator-like gaze stayed rooted to where his too big shaft was stretching you open. He'd trace the flesh parted around his length, his voice husky as he told you how pretty it was.

You didn't even know he knew what pretty meant.

His hands fondled your tits, the skin of your belly.  “You are so small,” he mused before giving you a deliberate pump that sent your spine scraping up the ground. “Soft and submissive. I did not know that mating could be like this.”

“I-I didn’t either,” you sighed, drunk off of the feeling of his ridged cock kissing your walls, his powerful claws holding your ass up.

He cocked his head. “Has this helped, female? Are you sated yet?”

“No,” you whispered even if the fog had somewhat cleared. You would never be able to walk again. Your legs jelly. Your pussy probably…raw and chafed and swollen. It was worth it though. Delicious. 

You lifted your chin, your eyes finding his in the dark. The suns had dipped below the mountain. The air could be cold, but you would not know. Everything screamed like a fire inside the cage of your ribs and the clutch of your womb. “Why did you spare me?” you asked, aware that you had him vulnerable. 

He seemed unsurprised by the question. He shrugged - a very human reaction that did not fit him. “I have no answer. I simply wanted you."

You reached for him again.

***