Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationship:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2011-11-30
Words:
1,369
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
5
Kudos:
43
Bookmarks:
5
Hits:
2,276

Black Magic

Summary:

Eridan has a bit of a speed problem. So, it's up to his kismesis to coach him. Done for the Homestuck kink meme.

Work Text:

"A trembling lower lip might impair your speech even further," Rose teased.

 

Eridan was sitting nervously on the bed, his claws dug into the sheets and his clothes already discarded to the concrete floor. All he wore now were his nautically-themed boxers which Lalonde found delightfully droll, always failing to suppress a giggle when she was them.

 

"Stop teasin' me," he frowned. He wasn't here to be humiliated. That kind of thing didn't get him off. At least, he would never admit to it. The hardening bulge in his anchor-patterned underclothes stated otherwise.

 

 

"Never," she smirked. Rose had yet to remove a single article of her own clothing. This time it wasn't about her. It was about the sea dweller, a fact in which he would normally revel, but this time he just inwardly cowered. This was about him and a certain 'problem', though he couldn't understand exactly why it had become and issue.

 

Their kismisissitude had always been shoddy at best. Rose genuinely disliked Eridan at times, but never felt the deep pangs of hatred for which her pined. He had, as he always did, convinced himself that their hatespritship was woven into the fate of everything, written into the very stars of whatever universe they happened to be in. His feelings might have been only tinted black, but his intentions were as atrous as the starless expanse of the Outer Ring.

 

"You are aware of why we're here, are you not?" Rose crossed her arms and stared down at the violet-blooded troll.

 

"Because you think I havve some kinda problem," his scowl deepened. "I don't see wwhat the big fuckin' deal is though."

 

"You don't? I mean, I know you're nothing but sea scum," she threw in an insult to keep him tense, "but I can't fathom why you wouldn't admit to having such an obvious problem."

 

"It's not obvvious, you wwench," he hissed. "Unlike you filthy creatures, we don't like to draw out this disgusting process." "Well," she busied herself with her nails to get a rise out of him, "if you don't want to do this, you're free to go. I'm sure I can find a much better waste of my time. Maybe I'll go lay with Kanaya for a while? Or perhaps even Feferi?"

 

"You fuckin' take that back, you bitch!"

 

"Still sore about how she kicked your sorry behind to the corner for that mutant in the 3D shades?"

 

Standing from the bed quickly enough to make Rose jolt, he grabbed the collar of her shirt and bared his fangs, his forehead pressed against her own and their faces close enough to feel them both flush with adrenaline. She was still smirking, but some part of her still found his gnarled expression of rage frightening. Perhaps the fear was what made this all the more fun.

 

One feminine hand curled around his throat, not to choke but merely to control, as his grip began to give. Still panting, his muscles slacked and then tensed again in anticipation of a different kind. No longer were the ready to fight but more to receive. Even if he would never in a million sweeps admit it, he was not the dominant half in this strange relationship.

 

Her other hand dipped lower, feeling the smooth curve of his abdomen until she reached the elastic waistband of his boxers. She toyed with the fabric, snapping the waistband just hard enough for him to flinch, but never bringing herself in direct contact with his bulge. It was torment to him, but sweet bliss to her. This feeling of control, of how utterly helpless he was under her hand, was extremely arousing. Still, this time it was not about her. She was just a therapist here, coaching him on how not to blow his load at the slightest brush of black affection.

 

Her hold around his neck tightened, her strong digits playing against the outside of his gills. How easy it would be just to slip one finger inside. The couldn't even imagine what kind of pain that would cause. It would be just so sweet to see him writhe...still, She restrained herself. Eridan's masochistic tendencies didn't quite match her own sadistic ones. Too tempted, she secured her focus elsewhere, finally palming his tented boxers, eliciting a sweet hitch in his breath. The sound was enough to make her bite her lip, then lean in to sink her teeth into his own. His hands, which had previously swing lazily at his sides, now shakily palpitated her sides, dragging his claws along her clothed skin until the hairs on the back of her neck rose.

 

"P-please," he broke their kiss long enough to stammer. "Please, I need this."

 

"Well, since you asked so nicely," she crooned before pushing him down on the bed. By the heaving of his chest, she could tell he was already close to bursting, still she needed to make him last. Getting this far was marked progress, but not nearly good enough. He needed to be begging for release.

 

His eyes closed tightly, she hiked up her skirt and ground against his manhood, forcing a thin whine from his throat. Then, without prompting, she took a moment to remove his boxers, freeing his bulge which was already flushed a bright purple and dripping with translucent precum. Again, she did not remove anything of her own, mounting again and rubbing against him. He could feel how soaking wet she was, only making it more difficult to hold back.

 

"Don't you dare come," she moaned, enjoying herself as well.

 

"Wwhat're you gonna do about it?" Eridan keened.

 

From the pocket of her wrinkling skirt, she withdrew her wand. Having had it tucked beneath her shirt, he wasn't sure how he had managed to miss it earlier, but not regretted checking to see if she was armed. Before he could protest, she jammed the tip firmly beneath his chin, sure to raise a bruise. "How about if you come, I blow your head off." "You wwouldn't dare."

 

 

"Really? I'm pretty sure you weren't expecting me to blow up your computer either. How did that turn out for you?"

 

"F-fuckin' bitch," he bit into his lip until beads of bright purple blood were pooling at the corners of his mouth.

 

Feeling particularly torturous, she slid back and stood, only to kneel with her mouth opening to take him in, her wand now jabbing his side.

 

"No, Rose, please, don't," he pleaded. He knew he wouldn't be able to last through what she was about to do.

 

Completely ignoring his cries, she slid her tongue up the shaft of his bulge, to which he shuddered. Figuring she didn't have much time left, and assuming correctly, she took him into her mouth inch by agonizing inch. He had never done this, or rather had this done to him, but was still somewhat impressed when she was able to take it all, her nose bumping up against his stomach before she came up again. Her head now bobbing intently, he clenched his teeth until his jaw was sore and curled his toes. The way she worked her tongue was devilish and he knew, threatened or not, he couldn't last any longer.

 

"Rose," he groaned.

 

She didn't stop, even if he was about to come. She figured that was an apt reward for lasting as long as he did. Taking her lack of response as permission, he finally came, his thick, purple genetic material flooding her mouth. She nearly gagged at the sheer amount, forgetting that trolls had a far greater volume of emission, but swallowed every drop with diligence. Only when he began to go soft did she raise her head, her mouth stained violet. Wiping her mouth, she finally removed her wand from his flesh and pocketed it again.

 

"Thought you were gonna blow my head off," he chuckled under his breath. Without warning, she slapped him hard enough for a welt to bloom upon his cheek. He guessed he deserved that by tempting her.

 

"Next time, maybe I will just kill you," she scoffed, straightening her skirt to leave.

 

"Oh," he laid back down, his head already swimming, "I can't wait."