I own nothing but my own words.
A Holarke Crackfic
"Well, being human may suck... but it does have some perks."
"Like what?"
"Like, that's never worked before."
Hope looked down when Clarke indicated the front of his pants, which were visually tented… very tented.
She shook her head, "…What!?"
"Mud man, remember?" Clarke muttered as he stared at the thing in his pants. It was a brand new feeling and he knew it was supposed to be natural but it kind of… freaked him out. "And dad never quite got the formula right."
"I thought that just meant you were sterile," she wondered if now would be a good time to run out of the room and away from… that.
"Semantics," Clarke shrugged. "Sterile sounds better than impotent."
"Well," Hope took a step back. "Um, it's obvious you need a little alone time."
He finally looked away from his crotch to her, feeling a little frantic, "Aren't you going to help!?"
Hope raised her eyebrows way up in the air, "Excuse me?!"
"It is your fault I'm in this condition," he motioned again.
"Hundreds of years of living and you still haven't figured out that it's never the women's fault when a man can't control himself?" she asked with amused outrage.
She hadn't actually done anything to turn him on besides argue with him. If arguing with people turned him on, he was going to need to reach a really zen-like state of mind during his time as human.
"Sorry, bad joke," he grimaced. "I've just always wondered how it felt. Now I know. And now I'm wondering about what comes next."
"Again, why you need some time alone."
"I'd really like it if you stayed and helped. Please?" he practically begged.
"If you say that one more time..."
"I'm asking politely this time!"
"And I'm gonna hafta pass," she took another step back. "Look, just get a towel and some lotion. You'll be good to go! And on that note…" She turned and practically sprinted for the door.
"Hope, please!" he cried out. "This is all new and… it's really starting to hurt."
She pressed her hand against her forehead. How was this even happening?
"Maybe because it's a little trapped?" she said, not daring to look at him again. "Just give it space to breathe and… take care of it."
She heard the zipper on his khakis and jumped for the door handle, "See, better, right?"
"Hope?!"
It was the way he actually sounded scared that made her stop.
"I think there's something wrong."
She clenched her eyes shut and took a deep breath before she made herself look.
Good God.
"Is it supposed to be that big?!" his expression was absolutely horrified and she could see why.
She was wondering what the hell kind of beast Andie had really unleashed from the pit because oh my God.
"They… come in all shapes and sizes," she managed to say.
She was trying to reassure him, but she wasn't sure if she succeeded or not when she couldn't look away.
Were they supposed to get that big?
How the hell should she know?!
"Look, just help me this once?" he asked in desperation.
"Haven't you ever read anything about it? Watched a porno for, I don't know, research or something?" she asked.
"Why would I?!" he exclaimed. "It's never worked before and it's kind of emasculating, so no, I didn't watch videos of other men's penises!"
He really didn't know anything, did he?
"Fine!" she threw her hands up. "Just… wrap your hand around it and move it up and down. I'll… go get a towel."
She hoped this was over with quick. He never ejaculated before, so it should go pretty fast, right?!
When she came back, she could tell immediately it wasn't going well.
Gripping himself while standing with his pants halfway down, his face said plainly that he was uncertain and uncomfortable.
"For the love of God, get on the bed, get more comfortable," she clutched the towel, feeling uncomfortable herself but she figured with that happening to his anatomy, he was suffering worse than her.
He let go of the giant staff and pulled his shirt up and over his head.
"What are you doing!?" she snapped, eyes widening at the view of his chest and stomach and… holy hell.
"You said to get comfortable?" His stressed brows crinkled as he tossed the shirt aside before pushing the pants the rest of the way down.
Clarke butt! Lord, help her.
"You know what, fine, just sit on the bed, back to the pillows," she instructed as she averted her eyes.
Well, now she knew exactly what was beneath that towel back in the cabin.
"Now what?" he asked.
She braced herself. She knew what she had to do. She could either stand there while he tried to figure it out and failed over and over again or…
She could just do it herself.
"You tell anyone about this, I will hurt you," she warned as she stalked over to sit on the edge of the bed next to him.
"You think I want anyone to know about this?" he asked.
She flexed her hand… then flexed the other hand when she stared at his engorged flesh and realized she was definitely going to need both.
"So, you're gonna…" he began hopefully.
"Just shut up and focus," she muttered before gripping him with one hand near the base then the other above that, both wrapped around as far as her fingers could reach—which wasn't even close to all the way.
He had no problem shutting up after that except for his shocked moans when she started stroking and squeezing and applying pressure at different points.
She could tell how much he liked something when he grunted or jerked. She did that on purpose, hoping he would remember what he liked so he could recreate it himself later. She started out slow until they both got the hang of it, and then she sped up knowing she might be there all night if she didn't.
Her theory about his first ejaculation being quick proved correct after that. He definitely didn't last long before she heard his breathing pick up and he cried out a few times before he came with a guttural groan, his words were barely audible but she still heard her name in the mix.
She let go, grabbed the towel, and threw it over his crotch before too much happened.
She honestly wasn't sure what was more disconcerting. That she did that for him in the first place, that he groaned out her name, or… that touching him and the sound of her name made her feel a completely unexpected flood of warmth between her legs.
No. Clarke had not just turned her on. The idea was preposterous.
"Use the towel to clean it up," she said, standing quickly. "I'll be leaving now."
"Uh… Hope?"
"What now?" she turned back to him and jumped.
He had removed the towel to work at cleaning it up, but…
"It's hard again?" he said with alarm. "Is it supposed to do that?!"
"I don't know!" she was starting to panic. "It's not like I have one!"
"What do I do now?!"
"Think of your father!?" she suggested frantically.
He crinkled his nose, "Not exactly orgasm inducing material."
"No, to make it go away," she said. "Think about things that aren't about sex."
"Okay," he cringed as he tried to think about his father.
Think. Think. Think.
He looked down, "It's not going away. Will you do it again?"
"No! I showed you how to do it once; you should be able to do it on your own now!" She tried to walk away again.
"Please don't leave me!" he begged.
"Clarke," she turned around with a glare. "I've seen and touched way more of you than I've ever wanted to. You've got it from here."
With a frustrated sigh, he wrapped a hand around it again, this time starting at the base just like she had.
She could tell he felt much more comfortable this time, especially since his face relaxed in a look of pleasure as he stroked himself.
"See?" she said. "Even better, you can stroke it and learn exactly what you like. You don't need me to do it."
"Okay, I'll do it, but can you stay anyway?" he asked, stroking away.
"Why?!"
"I like looking at you when I do it."
She sputtered. Great. She was the stuff of his fantasies. Couldn't he fixate on someone else? Anyone else?
"I don't have a picture so…" he looked at her hopefully.
She saw it through this far, she might as well just sit and let him do it on his own. At least she didn't have to touch it again.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she stayed but refused to look at him. She also started racking her brain, trying to think of a photo she could go get for him so she would never have to suffer through this again.
The slap of flesh on flesh told her he was definitely getting into it the way he was supposed to. She might actually be able to leave his room at some point.
His grunting and panting increased, with random "Ohhh"s that told her he really liked what he just did to himself.
"Hope…."
Her name again.
"Hope, Hope, Hope."
Hurry up, Clarke, she thought, wishing he would stop saying her name. It was having the same effect as before. She pressed her legs together tightly, telling herself to cool down.
He kept saying it though until, "Look at me."
Had he just been trying to get her attention?
"No."
"Please?"
He kept begging until she finally looked at his face and tried to keep her eyes glued there but she could see his hand movements out of her peripheral as he jerked off. He sped up even more when she made eye contact with him and that was enough for him to come…
Making her immediately regret her decision to look at him when she felt something hit her face.
"Ew, gross!" She swiped at her cheek. "Clarke! Towel!"
"Right," he struggled to reach for it with one hand while the other one continued milking his shortening rod lazily. "Who knew this stuff could be so messy."
"I am definitely leaving now," she stood with renewed purpose. She needed to scrub her face with every kind of soap she could find.
"One last question?" he called out.
"Oh my God, what?!" she stopped in front of the door but refused to turn around. She was going to listen to his inane question, possibly answer it, then walk out that door and forget all about this.
"If I want to find someone to have sex with, I can just go to a bar, right?" he asked. "Find someone willing and I'm good?"
She stared hard at the wood panels on the door.
Of course he would just want to jump right in. With an apparent libido like his, she wouldn't be surprised if he was already sporting a semi once again.
Nothing faulty about his equipment now… except maybe his inability to control it.
And the size.
Thinking about the size sent another gush of warmth between her thighs and she bit her lip hard against the need to curse.
"Hope?"
Was he really going to go out and-and-and… inflict that on some random woman?
Thinking about him fucking someone else rubbed her the wrong way.
She reached out and turned the dead bolt firmly in place.
Spinning around, she met his eyes and said, "Fuck it."
Pulling her shirt up and off, she started forward and had her pants and undergarments off too by the time she made it back to the bed.
Crawling on top of him, she saw that he was, of course, already hardening again as he stared at her with that ever present hopeful expression.
"Let's do this," she said, staring at the mammoth cock and feeling a trace of intimidation. She hadn't thought this through fully, had she? How was all of that going to fit? It had to, right? "Don't you dare tell anyone!"
He shook his head immediately, willing to do anything she wanted because he honestly would rather do this with her than anyone else.
She had no idea how to do this. It wasn't like she was any kind of expert! She wasn't sure she could raise herself up high enough to sit on that… more like impale herself like a giant friggin sword!
Nope. Nope.
"Reverse," she said, sliding off him to lie on her back beside him. "You're on top."
He didn't need to be told twice. He settled over her, her legs spreading, and he knew enough about sex to know this next part.
He held himself up with one hand and used the other to guide himself inside.
Once he breeched the entrance, he let go and pushed his hips forward, sliding inch-by-inch, moaning louder than ever before at the way her inner walls clenched around him.
"Wait, wait, wait, wait!" she called out, gripping his shoulders. She knew he was big but he kept going and she felt overwhelmed. He was already completely filling her. How could he stuff anymore in? And the way his girth was stretching her open?
She needed a minute.
Fortunately, he stopped when she insisted.
"What?" he managed to speak.
"I don't think it's going to fit," she forced herself to say.
His brows furrowed, "You said there wasn't anything wrong with it."
"There isn't!" she insisted. "I'm just kind of… small."
"But it was still going in?"
It was. He was right. But she panicked. What if it went deeper than it was supposed to?
Breathe, Hope, she reminded herself. She healed quickly. If it actually hurt her, she would put a stop to it immediately, heal, and that would be the last of it.
She cursed herself for giving in to her libido.
Why hadn't she walked out that door?
Because she wanted to be his first.
"Okay," she finally said, glad for the break. It gave her body a little more time to adjust to his invasion. "Keep going."
Miraculously, it did fit. She couldn't believe it when he stopped, his pelvis pressed firmly against hers.
"There," he murmured. "All the way in." He just wanted to stay buried inside of her for as long as possible. She felt so good! He couldn't stay still though, and he knew he was supposed to move, so he braced himself and started moving his hips. The friction, the way her tightness wrapped around him, he was in ecstasy.
She tried to find some kind of rhythm with him, still feeling unsure, but relaxing even more as the awkwardness eased and it felt good.
Then she felt something inside of her as he stilled and a familiar look passed over his face.
His 'O' face.
No way.
"Did you just come!?" she yelped.
"Yea?" he managed to say, though he could barely speak given the bliss he was feeling. Being human definitely had its perks.
"Clarke, I barely moved!" she snapped. "I'm supposed to enjoy it too!"
"Give it a minute," he forced out the words as he collapsed on top of her. "I'm sure it'll be ready again in a second."
Of that she had no doubt either. Still!
"First times really are the worst times," she pressed her palm to her forehead again, praying for patience.
"Not for me," he said, circling his hips against her. "Definitely the best time."
"No, we are not doing it this way again," she pushed at him. "But you will make me orgasm before I leave this room."
"Isn't this the part where I say I'm not responsible for your pleasure?" he said, remembering her words about not being responsible for him losing control.
"Oh, in this, you are!"
She then proceeded to tell him exactly how he was going to help her orgasm.
"You want me to put my mouth where?!"
"You heard me."
"My penis juice has been there!"
"Your pen—nope. I am not saying that," she cringed at the words. "It's inside me, not on my clit. That's on the outside." Of course she would have to tell him how to find her clit. She read about guys having an issue with that, and a guy who had no interest in sex before now definitely wouldn't be able to.
"I'm not doing that."
"I told you, I'm not leaving this room until I orgasm." She couldn't believe he couldn't do this one thing for her after everything she did for him that night.
"Then we can just keep doing this," he circled his hips against hers again, loving the way his cock pressed against her. "At least I'll get to orgasm until you do."
"That's not happening," she said even as she clenched and unclenched around him, circling her hips too.
Even when he first went limp inside her, she still very much felt him because of what he left buried deep—his stupid penis juice, or whatever he wanted to call it—had filled her completely like he was taking up residence, staking his claim, marking his territory.
If only he could actually last long enough for her to get off too, it could potentially be the best sex she ever had—not that the bar was set very high.
"Sex means I don't need the towel, less mess since it's inside you." He also preferred sex to his hand. He was hoping he wouldn't have to remove himself from inside her anytime soon.
She rolled her eyes, "It's spilling out, I'm sure."
"Then how do you know it didn't get on your clit?" he pointed out. "My mouth is staying up here."
"How are you even hard again?" she practically whined when she started feeling the pressure inside again as he grew.
"Making up for lost time?" he guessed.
"Fine," she spread her legs further, letting him sink against her. "Try to make it better for me. No one is ever going to want to have sex with you again if that's the best you can do."
"What do you want?"
"I want you to hold off from coming until I do," she said and wrapped her legs around his hips, dragging him against her.
"Then hurry up," he groaned, "because this feels way too good to hold off for long."
"I mean it!" she said.
"There's got to be something else I can do," he said even as he started moving inside of her again.
"My clit," she breathed out at the pleasure. She did enjoy it when he moved inside of her like that. Just keep doing it.
"Mouth definitely not reaching right now."
"Touch it," she arched against him.
He fumbled at trying to reach between their bodies and pump inside of her at the same time.
She could feel his fingers brush at the skin of her outer lips.
"Keep going, a little to the left," she said helpfully.
"If you did this, I could move better."
"And let you get off before me again? I don't think so."
He moved his fingers like she told him until he finally brushed his target.
"Yes! There!" she called out, clenching her legs around his hips. "Keep doing that."
He gritted his teeth and attempted to stroke her while thrusting his hips. It wasn't the easiest thing, but it still felt good, and he hoped it made her feel good too. She might hurt him otherwise.
She flexed her hips and tried to focus on the pleasure, but it felt more like he was haphazardly flicking his finger at her and only actually hitting the mark half the time.
"I said keep doing it!"
"I am!"
"You're barely touching it!"
"Well, your legs are trapping me, I can't reach!"
Funny how his hips had no issue continuing to thrust while he argued with her.
She dropped her legs and spread her thighs for him.
He adjusted his grip, pausing in his thrusts until he could touch her better. He explored the area she wanted him to touch and felt something that was nub-like. He decided to squeeze that between his fingers.
Her reaction said it all.
Her entire body jerked up and she shouted out, "Yes!"
Feeling a strange sense of accomplishment, he resumed his thrusting and kept up a steady stream of squeezing. The act of focusing on her pleasure helped him hold back longer than he thought he could.
She went from annoyed to heaven in ten seconds flat. Between his fingers and his thrusts, she couldn't get enough!
"Don't stop! Don't stop! Don't you dare stop!" she cried out. This was exactly what she wanted, the reason she got into that bed with him in the first place.
He didn't reply. He just kept moving with focused purpose, and she stopped worrying he would screw it up and lost herself to the feeling building inside of her.
She knew that once he figured out what he was doing, it would be the best sexual experience of her life.
The longer it lasted, the louder her moans were and they mingled with his, both of them crying out their pleasure to each other.
"Please say your close!?" He was trying, he was trying so hard. His hand was tired, and even though he found a good position, it was taking forever.
"Not yet!" she moaned.
"Now?" he practically begged.
"Shut up!" she cried out.
He gave it all of ten seconds more before he pulled his fingers away.
"Don't stop!" she practically screamed.
"I'm not!" He was just tired of playing with her clit. He wanted to fuck her, really fuck her like before, and he knew she liked that but he ended things too abruptly. He had a better grip on himself now. He wouldn't last much longer, but he was pretty sure he would last long enough.
Placing his hands on either side of her, he readjusted and slammed inside of her.
The pleasure shot through her in droves.
"Yes! Yes! Whatever you do, don't stop!" She liked this too. She could even wrap her legs around him again.
He braced himself and began pounding inside of her, unleashing all the pent-up frustration over having to hold back while he touched her. He had to admit, holding back was actually pretty nice too. It meant he got to feel her walls clenching around him longer.
It meant he got to feel her body and see her face when she finally came. That sense of accomplishment returned as she started screaming.
"I'm coming! I'm coming! I'm coming!"
"Oh thank God," he groaned as the last of his control snapped and he thrust into her with mindless abandon until he could finally release, wondering if he went off like a geyser inside of her like what happened with the towel before.
They both collapsed in an exhausted heap, wrapped up in each other.
She was astounded. She wasn't sure how their argument had come to this, but she really couldn't complain at this point.
"Huh," he murmured.
"Hmm?"
He rolled off of her and looked down between them.
"I think it's finally done."
She looked and saw that, indeed, he was completely spent and soft.
"Took it long enough."
"How often do you think it'll do that?"
"I don't know."
"What do I do if it happens again?"
"Really, Clarke? I just showed you."
"Right," he nodded. "Hand and towel."
She nodded too, then thought about how amazing the last time had been.
"And if all else fails…"
"Yeah?"
"I'm here to help."
Finished.
