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You are Rose Lalonde, and when you were thirteen your wizard slash fic had taken a turn for the... Obscure, putting it mildly. In other words, you’d written Drarry fic involving heated glances across the Great Hall, an unsupervised Herbology detention, and a bite from the rare (and unmentioned in canon, but you can’t expect Rowling to account for every possible aspect of her world that you may desire to write about) Peruvian Grappling Appendabush.
Malfoy had spawned a tentacle just above his dick, and he and Harry had engaged in 5000 words of highly unrealistic fucking. It certainly wasn’t one of your better fics, but you can’t go back and edit it because you’d wiped your computer clean of the more terrible fic in case Dave had gotten a hold of it. If he’s going to snoop through your computer, then you’re only going to provide him with high quality smut to peruse, because that’s just what good siblings do.
If you’d known at thirteen that you’d have a partner with an honest to god tentacle as a genital, you’d have probably raised an eyebrow thoughtfully whilst internally planning ways to get said partner into bed. You know this because this is your exact facial expression and mindset at present.
Progress has been... Slow, however. It’s not that Kanaya is abhorrent to your advances – on the contrary, she seems very susceptible whenever you actually manage to get her alone. Such as right now, for instance. You come across her (after searching the asteroid for almost an hour) in the library, and she’s reading her book upside down.
“I was unaware that you could read upside down, Kanaya, that’s quite a talent you have,” you say, leaning against the doorframe and grinning.
“My lusus was determined that my education would be nothing but the best,” she says, her cheeks flushing jade as she turns the book around hastily. “I attempt to read in this fashion for at least an hour daily in order to maintain my ability, but I’ve finished practicing for the day.”
“You’ll have to give me private lessons.” You wink; she flushes darker, a slight grin on her face. You walk towards her in what you hope is a sultry fashion, as opposed to that lope and shuffle Dave does whenever he’s trying to simultaneously impress Terezi and incense Karkat, and gently pull the book from her outstretched hands, placing it on the table beside her chair.
“If I can assist you in any way, Rose Lalonde, I’d be more than happy to oblige.” You straddle her lap in what could be classed as an ungainly fashion, but you’d prefer it to be described as ‘fluid’, thank you very much.
“Well, how about we go back to your quarters, and we can engage in our private lessons. Naked. In case that wasn’t clear.” Wow, you’re as eloquent as your brother when you’re horny. No, wait, stop, you don’t want to think about him when you’re about to engage in intercourse with your matesprit, abort abort!
While you were entertaining incestuous-by-association thoughts about your brother, Kanaya has somehow managed to not only remove you from her lap, but has also placed a respectful distance of five feet between you both. Despite all of this, she’s looking at you like she wants nothing more than to pin you to the wall and ravish you like you’re characters in 50 Shades of Red, Black, Pale, and Ashen, (Karkat had given you a long, verbose lecture on how that book wasn’t representative of what troll romance was really like, but you had merely told him that you didn’t look for accuracy in your erotica).
“I must go, there is a thing I have to do that is unfortunately on the other side of this asteroid.” She shuffles awkwardly out of the room; you lean against the table irritably.
Almost as soon as she has left the room, Terezi saunters in, whistling loudly. You regret teaching her that particular skill, because she is now under the impression that it is something one does when being nonchalant, despite how you have told her countless times that this is not the case.
“Why, Miss Snooty Creamsicle Pants, what a pleasant surprise!” She laughs; you glare at her, and she instantly stops, her face twisting into its questioning expression. “Overkill?”
“Next time you loiter outside a room, you might want to consider waiting for a few moments before walking in after one of the occupants has left.” She shrugs. “What do you want, Terezi?”
“Me? I want only for universe wide justice. And a cotton candy pink hoofbeast.”
“You’re doing that thing where you grin at me like you have incriminating evidence that you’re going to reveal at the critical moment.”
“Baseless accusation!”
“Tell me, Pyrope, or I’ll wink at Dave every time he so much as contemplates getting physical with you. The classical conditioning will result in him associating you coming onto him with me, and the subsequent bonerkill will mean you will never get to sample his ‘sword’, or whatever euphemism he uses for his genitals.” Terezi leans against the table next to you. Both of you stare contemplatively at the floor for a few moments, before she turns to you and says,
“He calls it his ‘everlasting gob dropper’.”
It takes you a few minutes to respond, but eventually you say “You can’t deny the boy’s creativity, and his determination to mar every childhood memory I hold dear. Now, please tell me what you’re hiding from me, so I can return to my quarters to mourn the loss of yet another beloved film to Strider’s incessant innuendo.”
She tells you many things. Specifically, she tells you why Kanaya is following the policy ‘look don’t touch’.
You know what you need to do.
***
If you were to write a list of everyone who has ever done an imbecilic thing, you would be nearly at the top of it. Not right at the top, mind you, because that time Karkat got his foot stuck in the load gaper when he’d been trying to coax Serenity down from the ceiling had been pretty idiotic, but what you’re currently doing is still pretty damn stupid.
On the one hand, you have a beautiful, funny, talented, and hot as hell matesprit that, coincidentally, seems to want to fill a pail with you, something that you are more than eager to make happen.
On the other hand, your matesprit is a human, and you’re not entirely sure how she’ll react to your tentabulge. Oh, she knows about them in theory, but what’s to stop her from freaking out when faced with it in person?
Worse, what if she laughs at it?
You can never face decent civilization again. In fact, you are determined to never leave your quarters for as long as you both shall live which, assuming you are both in a timeline that isn’t out to kill you, will be forever.
You are Kanaya Maryam, and generations to come will tell of how you lived under a blanket, watching ‘In Which A Young Greenblood Has A Strange Day Vision About An Unknown Indigo Blood, And Subsequently Encounters Her The Following Day; The Greenblood And Her Tealblooded Moirail Encounter A Yellowblooded ‘Magical Troll’, Who Has Made A Contract With An Alien To Gift Her Magical Powers; The Series Takes A Sudden And Horrific Turn For The Worse When The Yellowblood Is Decapitated And Everything Goes To Shit And Everyone Dies; Contains Quadrant Vacillation Between The Tealblood And A Ragefilled Rustblood, 1 To 5 Deaths Depending On The Timeline, And One Selfish Douche Of An Alien’ on repeat, never again interacting with the outside world.
Your door bursts open just as Homura is unnerving Madoka with her prior knowledge of the school.
“Kanaya Maryam.” You look up and oh mother grub Rose is standing at your door in nothing more than her undergarments you can see everything where is the mercy. “If you do not fill a pail with me this instant... I haven’t thought of a consequence yet, but it will be severe.” You put your face in your hands.
“Rose, dearest, it is not that I do not wish to fill a pail with you, it is that-”
“I know.” You peek through your fingers. “And I promise you that I will not laugh, I won’t run away, I will not act in any way detrimental to your psychological welfare. In fact, I’m rather looking forward to the... Novelty of it, if you will.” You continue to stare at her through the gaps in your fingers. She sighs – the movement flutters her hair slightly. “Kanaya, please look at me.”
“Oh, I can see you!” Your voice is high, strained, almost squeaky, so you cough to clear your throat and try again. “I can see you.” You move your hands finger by finger until you have an unimpeded view of your beautiful matesprit oh hell with it you’ve wanted this long enough.
You both meet in the middle of the room, and thankfully you’ve kissed her enough to know that she always tilts her head slightly to the left when she kisses you, so you adjust your head accordingly, and oh, how you’ve missed kissing her, why did you get it into your head that she’d laugh at you, this is Rose you’re talking about.
There’s a brief moment of struggle with the clasp of her bra, but then (with a quick slice from one of your nails, you’ll make it up to her later) it’s free, and you stand in awe for a moment, just taking her in. She coughs gently, shaking you out of your reverie, and you lean forward to take one of her nipples into your mouth. The noise she makes is delicious – a breathy, surprised ‘oh’, as though she hadn’t expected it to be quite so pleasurable – and you are determined to get her to make as many sounds as possible before the night is through...
But you’re not entirely sure what you should do from here! Trolls don’t have a need for nipples, after all, and from here you’re at a loss as to what would feel good. Your gut instinct is to use your teeth, as they are a staple in foreplay, but you have to tell yourself constantly that Rose is much more delicate than a troll, and might not take kindly to being bitten. Do you lick it? Wouldn’t that get it terribly wet and slobbery? What if the sight of your jade coloured saliva covering her breast is enough to tip Rose over the edge (and not the good edge, but the terrible laughter filled kind)?
It suddenly hits you that you have been standing bent at the waist with Rose’s nipple in your mouth, you haven’t moved in some minutes, and she is looking at you in a confused and worried fashion. Overall the situation would be comical, if you weren’t currently in it. So you take a gamble, and swathe your tongue around her nipple in a circle.
“O-oh.” Her face clears into one of contented pleasure.
Score One For Maryam
“Again,” she says, bringing her hands up to cup your face. The command makes heat spread through your body, and yes, that is definitely something you will address at a later date, but right now you are focusing on making Rose incoherent.
You lick and suck at her nipple for a moment, listening happily to the sighs coming from above you. Not long into your ministrations Rose takes one of your hands and brings it up to her other breast. You gently thumb her other nipple; her sighs get louder, but just as suddenly as they start they stop. She pulls your head from her breast.
“What’s wrong?” You ask.
“You’re far too overdressed for the current situation,” she says, grinning rakishly as she slips her hands under your shirt and pulls it over your head. You’re not sure if she intentionally thumbs your horns as she goes past, but the action still makes you shiver pleasurably. Her thumbs hook into your skirt waistband and she looks at you seriously. “If you want to stop at any time, please say so, I promise I won’t be angry.”
“No, please don’t stop,” you say embarrassingly fast, so the words all merge together, pleasedontstop. You take a deep anticipatory breath. “Please.” She smiles at you, wide, and your skirt slips down your thighs, leaving you just in your underwear. Rose looks at it, and then looks up at you questioningly. “Not yet, I... Can I see you first?” She nods and, for the first time, you see a flicker of nervousness mirroring your own.
She pulls down her plain white panties and toes them off – they land a short distance away, and your matesprit is finally naked. You suppress the urge to fist pump.
This is your first time seeing human genitalia in person, as opposed to on a screen (you’ve done your research) and the phrase that comes to mind is ‘non-descript’. You know from experience that males are the ones with appendages, but this is also nothing like a nook – Rose’s vagina is covered in a light smattering of hair of all things, as blonde and fine as the hair on her head, and it doesn’t look overly wet, not like your own nook anyway.
“May I ask a question?” You say despite yourself, because it’s entirely possible that you’re doing something wrong. Rose blinks. “Do you get wet when aroused? Forgive me if this is an inappropriate question in any way, I just want to be sure I am going about this in the right way.”
“We do, and I can assure you that I’m wet by human standards,” she says, her cheeks flushing dusty pink.
“Oh. May I...?” She nods, and you slowly reach out your hand to touch. Mindful of your nails, you cup your palm around her.
She whines, and forget what you’ve said about any sound she has made previously, you want that one permanently embedded in your head.
“R-rub,” she pants out. You rub experimentally, but apparently you are too gentle for her tastes because she starts grinding against your palm. You can feel yourself getting wetter, and it’s a good thing you’re wearing old panties because you’re going to stain them at this rate. “Oh God, don’t stop, please don’t stop, wait, stop stop I have an idea.” She pulls away – she doesn’t sound like she wants to stop permanently. On the contrary, she has a feverish, greedy look to her. Stumbling over to your respite couch, Rose practically drapes herself over it, lying on her back and looking at you heatedly. As you hasten over, you’re dimly aware that your hand is wet from her.
“I have an idea,” Rose repeats. “But you do not have to agree to it if you don’t want to.” You don’t even need her to continue – with the way her legs are spread, all you can think about is running your tongue along her body to taste her. You drape yourself across her body, and begin by kissing her slightly open mouth languidly. Neither of you are in a rush, so you both revel in the way your tongues glance off each other.
As the kiss grows more heated, you become aware of Rose’s hands running up and down the length of your thighs, an exquisite tease as they draw closer and further away from your ass. When her hands finally come to rest on your cheeks, you sigh happily into her mouth, which quickly turns into a moan as she grasps tightly and pulls you closer. The friction of you against her gets you even wetter, and at this point there really isn’t any point to wearing pants as they are now sodden through.
You pull your mouth away from hers, kissing slowly down her body, lingering in the places that make her squirm most. Eventually, you draw level to her vagina which, up close, is wetter than you’d realised.
“Kanaya, you don’t have to do this if you don’t-aaah!” You quieten your matesprit with a firm lick up the centre of her vagina. It has a taste you haven’t come across before, purely because this is the first genitalia you have tasted.
This, in your opinion, is actually more fruitful than sucking her breast, because literally whatever you are doing seems to be producing an audible response – licking a solid line along her lips brings out a whimper, flicking lightly at her clitoris makes her breathe heavily, but it’s not until you find where her vagina leads inwards and poke your tongue down it that you get a long, drawn out moan. Her hands fly to your hair, holding you in place as you thrust your tongue in and out. Your hands have a mind of their own, kneading at her thighs and buttocks as she thrashes above you.
“Kanaya, if you don’t stop, I – oh fuck – this is going to end faster than I – FUCK!” This is the first time you’ve ever heard Rose incoherent, and you intend to make this a regular occurrence. However, you humour her, pulling your head away. She looks at you for the briefest instance before she’s pulling you up, rolling over so that she is on top and kissing you fiercely. She speaks between kisses.
“I love you, and I pity you, and I want to make love to you, and I want to fuck you against a wall, oh God please.”
“Please what?” You breathe out heavily. You’d meant it as a question rather than a command but that’s how it comes out of your mouth, and judging by the way Rose’s pupils widen it appears she enjoys commands just as much as you.
“Please let me see you, Kanaya.”
“Rose, are you sure it’s okay, it’s very different to human anatomy, I know you said it was but I just want to make sure-” She nips at your ear, and you whimper. Her hands slide down your body, stopping at your panties.
“Kanaya, you’re so wet.” You’ve never seen her look so turned on, and you’ve also never pitied her more. She skims down your body to get a closer look at you and before you can say anything her mouth is on your panties she is sucking your juices from your panties oh my god. You feel your bone bulge twinge in anticipation; Rose apparently feels it too, because she looks up in surprise. “Was that...?”
“That was my bone bulge, it–” She doesn’t wait for an explanation, pulling down your panties with alarming eagerness. The sudden friction is enough for your tentabulge to unsheathe, and Rose lights up like a lamp – a lamp with an overwhelming love of tentabulges, apparently.
“Don’t worry,” she says quickly to you. “I’ll be gentle.” She leans closer to you.
To which your tentabulge responds by fucking poking her in the eye.
“Ow, crap, ow!” She stumbles back in shock as you stare in horror. You just poked
your matesprit
in the eye
with your tentabulge.
You flop over the side of the bed, already contemplating ways in which to erase the last few seconds from your memory. Being the sylph of space is all well and good, but it does jack shit for you in these sorts of situations.
“Kanaya, wait, it’s okay, I’m fine,” Rose says hurriedly, putting her hand on your shoulder.
“No, leave me here, I am obviously not fit for polite society. Or any society, actually. Leave me alone to wallow in my misery, I will serve as a warning to everyone that attempts to engage in intercourse with their matesprit. There will be films made of my sorrow, and operas, possibly comic books, and then the craze will die down until is revived again in a low budget pornographic film.” Rose lies down so that her chin rests between your shoulder blades.
“For it to be a pornography, that implies that we’re going to continue having sex.”
“Rose, to borrow the human turn of phrase, my boner has been killed. It has been murdered brutally. With a pickaxe.” She laughs softly, and even you can’t help but crack a grin.
“We’ll get there eventually,” she says happily, nuzzling against you.
Hmm. Perhaps your boner can make a surprise return in the future.