Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/726806.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Jade_Harley/Karkat_Vantas
  Character:
      Jade_Harley, Karkat_Vantas
  Additional Tags:
      Oral_Sex, Dream_Bubbles
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-03-19 Words: 381
****** trying to make it home ******
by kingtumbleweed
Summary
     Karkat likes Jade because she takes control right out of his hands.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Nothing is ever such a relief as when Jade twists her fingers into your hair,
right between your stupid horns, and pulls you face-first between her legs.
 She locks her ankles behind your back and keeps you right where you need to
be, and you do your best.  You always do your best--you're the leader--but
you're always so tired of trying to move mountains built of hoofbeast shit; you
just kneel down and let her steer and the tension slowly loosens between your
shoulders the same way it builds up in hers. 
Human nooks are surprisingly similar to trolls', once you make it past the lack
of bulge.  It's all folds of skin and salty-musky wetness, and the tiny little
sheath and stiff little nub that makes Jade make tight little yips when you
roll your tongue over it hard.  Between those bitten-down sounds and the rub of
her free fingers against your horn, your own nook drips and throbs, and
sometimes you touch yourself, wiggling your hand into your pants to stroke
fingertips over your slit and the raw edge of your bulge sheath, but more often
you just hold onto her thighs and do as you're told.
For all that you bicker, Jade seems to genuinely like you, which is difficult
to understand--you don't like you and neither should anyone else with half a
sponge.  But she's content to snap back and forth with you until you get tired
and she kisses you and strokes your hair, or until she gets tired and she
kisses you and pulls your hair.  She leaves your quadrants confused in an
abominable bile and licorice slurry, but you have fuck-all else going on, and
you're more than glad for this breath of respite.  It's a brief release on your
pressure valve:  for a short, precious period, you have only one job and one
person to worry about, and that person is pressing her brown thighs close
around your head and squirming like she's trying to melt, and you've learned
that if you slide two fingers into her nook right then, she'll come gasping and
yelling, fists clenched in your hair and chest heaving.
You're always disappointed to wake up and find that you can't quite recall the
smell of her.
End Notes
     It's not relevant context, but I'd like to share with the class that
     I wrote this in the bare hours of the morning while I was at the ER
     in near-crippling pain.
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