Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1847641.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F
  Fandom:
      Homestuck, MS_Paint_Adventures
  Relationship:
      Rose_Lalonde/Kanaya_Maryam
  Character:
      Rose_Lalonde, Kanaya_Maryam, Dave_Strider
  Additional Tags:
      Vampires, Mind/Mood_Altering_Substances, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot
  Collections:
      Drone_Season_2014
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-06-26 Words: 1972
****** I want love to walk right up and bite me ******
by bannanachan
Summary
     Rose's thirteen-year-old fantasies come back to bite her.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
The first time you saw it, you didn’t know what to make of it.
It was something, when you were twelve, that you might have fantasized over,
though you would have barely known what you were doing. Lovecraftian tentacles
and vampirism? Be still, your prepubescent sex drive! But such fantasies had
lost their power since you figured out what you were actually doing down there,
and also since that one time when real-life eldritch gods stole your body and
mind and twisted you into blackened death throes.
Still, blackened death throes were far removed from the pretty green thing
between your alien girlfriend’s legs. And you had never known anything to look
unattractive on Kanaya.
You decided to give it a shot. Predictably, first contact didn’t get very far;
you spent the entire time wondering where buckets were involved, and Kanaya was
so concerned about hurting you that about halfway through she apologized and
ran away in a literal blur. It seemed like trolls and humans might be
incompatible after all. Only you knew that couldn’t be true. Not completely.
Asking your brother for alien sex tips was not your proudest moment, but at
least he only laughed for four minutes before taking you seriously.
Dave attempted to gesture as he spoke. “Look, she’s basically got – I mean, if
it’s anything like Terezi’s, which I’m pretty sure it is? You’ve basically got
two options down there.”
You frowned. “I only saw the one.”
“The tentacle thing?”
You nodded, and he nodded back. “Yeah, don’t think you could miss that part.
But there’s another thing, like under it ish. Terezi calls it a nook, but I’m
pretty sure it’s just a troll vagina. I usually just aimed for that. It was
pretty easy, actually, once I got used to it.”
“You have a penis.” You pointed out, scowling. “And my alchemiter skills only
go so far, plus I’d like to avoid having Karkat walk in on me surrounded by
failed attempts at dildos. What about the other part?”
Dave hesitated and frowned. “That part… I just let it do its thing.”
Further questions on this subject were avoided with typical Strider deftness.
You were more than a little curious why Dave chose that moment to stop talking
about alien genitalia, but you knew from experience there was no point in
pursuing it, so you decided to suck it up and just have a go.
Which was how you learned that “let it do its thing” was the best advice ever
when it came to fucking an alien octopus boner.
It was also, consequently, how fantasies about Lovecraftian tentacles and
vampirism regained every bit of standing they ever had in your mind and then
some.
There’s really not much to do on the meteor besides fuck anyway.
Sneaking into a vampire’s room in the middle of the night isn’t really the
wisest thing to do, let alone the most mature. The gesture is made particularly
stupid when ‘night’ has no relative meaning, but at least you’re trying to give
it some symbolic weight.
She turns on the lights with the kind of dramatic timing you’ve come to expect
from her, made more dramatic by the fact that she herself is the lights. You
are glad to have dressed for the occasion, since at least you can take her back
slightly that way.
“I don’t think I remember sewing that for you.” She says very carefully.
You smile. “I wanted to surprise you. I used something you sewed while I was
alchemizing, if it helps. What do you think?”
She stands up from her couch and walks over to the doorway, tracing her long
fingers along the edge of your black velvet corset. “I think it lacks
subtlety.” She says, and raises an eyebrow.
You lean in to kiss her and she yields a little, opening her mouth to yours.
You poke your tongue towards her fangs and very carefully prick it on them.
Blood spills onto both your tongues, and you feel her chest tremble as she
swallows it. She breaks the kiss off and breathes a little heavier than before.
“How’s that for subtlety?” You whisper back.
She glares at you playfully and nods towards the couch. “Sit.”
You sit. She sits behind you and reaches a hand around to your front,
positioning it between your legs. A bullet vibrator appears with a small pop
from her sylladex and she tucks it carefully into your underwear, switching it
to a low buzz as she does. You moan and shuffle around a little bit over it,
using the couch to press the bullet up and over your lips. Kanaya leans back
and begins patiently unlacing your corset, paying little mind to your movements
until your breaths start coming too fast, at which point there is another pop
and the toy is gone.
You whine and she smiles, undoing the last bit of lacing and tossing the corset
to the floor. She puts a hand over your breast and your breath hitches again.
“Kanaya –”
Your voice is cut off by the feeling of her fangs cutting into the skin of your
neck. The bite is clean and practiced. You flinch with pain for a second before
the poisoned tips flood endorphins into your bloodstream. They’re meant to
paralyze prey, Porrim told you, as a trick, but you find the effect is just as
prominent without any trickery needed. Your thoughts fuzz out as you fall into
your grip. You feel your veins pulse and your blood flowing into her mouth as
if from afar, and the warmth between your legs grows stronger with every beat.
Under the high, you feel something uncoil near your back and begin writhing.
When Kanaya moves her mouth from your throat, time has reached a standstill in
your head and body. You feel powerful and weak at once as her hands creep over
your body, stroking you down and stimulating each and every muscle. She has so
much power over you, like this. She could drain you dry and you wouldn’t even
notice. You get high off the trust of that gesture as much as you do off the
chemicals coursing now through both of your minds and bodies.
She moves her wandering hand back over your clit and you moan quietly low in
your voice. She coos back at you and moves her fingers, strokes you once,
twice, three times. You feel your lips pulse under her ministrations and
breathe shakily, tiny desperate sounds escaping your mouth on each exhale.
“Do you want to see it?” She asks.
You can feel her bulge moving on your ass, writhing under her skirt and
panties, soaked with wetness. There’s a texture to it that’s nothing like human
skin, bumpy like sharkskin with a little line of suction cups on one side
searching desperately for something to cling to. With vampiric deftness, Kanaya
flips your body over so you’re facing her, and there is a thirst in her
expression that stretches well beyond what she has drunk from you.
Barely cognizant, you nod, and Kanaya slips off her skirt and panties, followed
by your own. Bathed in bioluminescence, her tentabulge coils and uncoils in
tiny circles, reaching out in search of contact. You will never get over this –
the vibrant color of it like a sea creature, the way it fits right into her,
the total alienness of it. Or most of all, the size.
Dave’s advice about tentabulges flashes through your addled mind, and you
giggle a little. Kanaya raises an eyebrow.
“What’s so funny?” She asks, her voice as breathy as yours.
You laugh again, more out of elation than amusement. “You’re beautiful.” You
mutter, and you mean it.
She kisses you gently and you feel her bulge uncoil again, the tip probing at
your lips. You moan into her mouth and taste traces of your own blood still
lingering on her tongue.
She breaks the kiss and enters you, inch after inch of tentacle plunging up
against your walls. You cry out on instinct, but there’s no pain, the high from
her bite lingering and anesthetizing you. It moves too much to measure, but
you’re pretty sure from the look of it that Kanaya’s bulge is at least 10
inches. It curls up inside you, the tip probing at the top of you, and you coo
a little bit with the fullness of her.
She repositions herself inside you and you moan as you both get your bearings.
About half of her bulge stays curled up deep within you, filling you up. The
rest of it straightens out over you so that her suction cups cover your opening
going up. One slowly moves and roams its way to your clit, suctioning on and
pulling gently, and your breath comes all at once more fast.
She begins to move her hips, a few inches at a time. One suction cup remains
over your clit, pulling and relaxing repeatedly, as the rest rub up and down,
in and out of your opening. It’s bumpy and cold and alien, covered in greenish
slime, but there’s warmth to the glow. You lay back and close your eyes and let
her move in slow rhythms, waves of pleasure making their way up your body every
time she fills you tight and every time she moves back and pulls on your clit.
She lowers her torso down and rests her lips once more on your neck, teasing at
your bite wound, licking up the remains of the blood there. She presses herself
into you hard and you cry out, reaching your hands up, digging at her back,
scrambling to hold on. You leave scratches on her back and she winces, her
teeth grating on your neck wound. She moves faster, and you feel yourself
building up, losing anything but sensation.
Kanaya’s rhythms reach their height and just as you begin to scream again she
bites down once more on your neck. A double dose of endorphins floods to your
brain as blood surges through your body and you lose everything, clawing and
clawing at her back, bucking your hips greedily as you feel her bulge engorge.
You feel her finish and green genetic material floods into any space that was
left inside you. She presses and pulls, presses, and you cry out louder. Her
body trembles as she finishes and you lose your grip on her back and
consciousness, vision blotting out as a final wave of pleasure floods over your
mind and body.
To put it less poetically: you actually pass out.
By the time you awake, you have moved location. As you get your bearings, you
realize that she has returned you to your room and bed. You say a silent thanks
to the gods who aren’t your personal acquaintances for the inexplicable speed
bonus afforded to your girlfriend post-corpsification which allowed her to
spirit you without notice, and turn towards the light.
Kanaya sits in a chair by your bed, naked and reading a book. She puts it down
as soon as she notices you, and you sense an attempt not to hover in her
controlled movements.
“Hey.” She says quietly. “You had me worried there. Is – was everything all
right?”
For a second, you ponder the possibility of jumping her again right then and
there. It would probably be a bad idea, though.
You think for a second before responding, taking care that your syllables come
out correctly. “As far as being possessed by things that go bump in the night
go? I’ve had worse experiences.”
She laughs.
You fall asleep with Kanaya curled up next to you, her glow dimmed to a low
nightlight burn, and spend the evening dreaming of a monster who never once set
foot on Derse.
End Notes
     Happy drone season Auddish (and everyone else!) I was a little
     nervous about doing this challenge actually but I think it turned out
     well, so I hope you enjoy it!
     Credit to pantslesswrock and blooper-boy for betaing. Title comes
     from Love, Interrupted by Jack White.
  Works inspired by this one
      Walk_Right_Up_and_Bite_Me_(The_Genre_Mash-Up_Remix) by everlit_(Ink)
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!