#cancest

[kitsunes-hut-of-fics]

Technically still a celibate

Karkat had just arrived in front of his dancestors hive. Ever seince he had died, he's spent more and more time with Kankri. Then again, why wouldn't he? He had no one else. Well, that's what he believed. But this one time, he wished that Kankri didn't call him over. Why? Kankri had called him over when he was in the middle of a shower, but when he tried to explain what he was doin, Kankri said that was a triggering topic and hung up on him, ordering Karkat to come over.

And shit, who could say no when Kankri used that voice? A low growl, his voice deep. He wonders what it would sound like if...

He shook the thoughts from his head, sighing as he knocked on the door

"Karkat! I'm very glad y9u c9uld make it"

"YEAH WHATEVER. WHY THE HELL DO YOU NEED ME?"

Kankri began explaining why he called him over, a project or something. But he doesn't pay attention, instead he just stares at his lips. So soft, they move so much, he wonders what it feels like around his---

"Karkat! Are y9u even listening t9 me?" Kankris angry voice snaps him from thought as he looked up "WHAT? OH YEAH SURE"

"9k. N9w, where was I?"

He sighed as he continued, but his buldge didn't just forget. It started unsheathing as his breath hitched, squirming around a bit as he kept talking. The other must have noticed this because he suddenly stopped talking

"is that why y9u didn't want t9 c9me 9ver?'' he asked, karkat muttering Something that was probably a curse as he tried to hide the growing red stain

"I can help y9u kn9w"

"BUT YOU'RE FUCKING CELIBATE. YOU TOOK THAT VOW"

He nodded, sitting on the couch across from the chair "well yes I am, 6ut y9u kn9w, there's 9ther ways t9 reach y9ur climax with9ut interc9urse"

He must've saw his confusion because he chuckled a bit before gesturing for karkat to come to him, which he did. He put one of his legs over his own, and Karkats other leg under his. The smaller ones breath hitched as he rolled his hips onto the tallers, grabbing his shoulders

"HOLY SHIT..." he mummbled, the friction of his pants rubbing on his squirming buldge, he swore he could feel the others buldge as well as he soon eagerly began thrusting his hips, wondering how Kankri could even keep his composure. But that didn't worry him too much.

Soon, Kankri laid down, letting Karkat eagerly hump him as he began humming soft words of encouragement to him, one hand tangling in the younger cancers hair as he kept going until

"F-FUCK KANKRI IM GONNA CUM" he suddenly said, his thrust turning into rolling of hips as he bit his lip, once he got the word he immediately released into his pants, whining at the disgusting feeling, face scrunching up

"y9u kn9w where the 6athr99m is''

[aesyblack]

⚠DUST X BERRY⚠CAPITULO 1/2

⚠advertencia ⚠

Este cómic contrae siertas escenas no aptas para menores de edad

Y eso es todo lo que trae el capítulo 1 7u7 bueno seguiré dibujando para más experiencia rikolina.

Y bueno el link ya saben de que es jsjs

[aesyblack]

⚠dust x Berry ⚠cómic +18 capítulo 1 parte 1/2.

⚠ADVERTENCIA ⚠

Este cómic contiene escenas no aptas para menores de edad por sierto yo soy aesy black 7<7 la cual sabre quien robo mi cómic porque esta firmado ahora si prosigamos.

El link es del cómic en Wattpad B)

[black-quadrant]

something different by request -

He hasn't considered breaking his vow for sweeps, and the fact that he is considering it at all speaks volumes of his affection for the troll beside him.

They're nestled together, just two oversized sweaters on an even bigger pile of sweaters.  Karkat's flailing arms are making a mess of Kankri's essays; thankfully he keeps copies on several hard drives, but really--

"Karkat, my dissertation may be an exemplary study on hemopolitics but it is not an adequate pillow."

Karkat answers by slapping him with page 10, Kankri recoiling with a mock-gasp.

"That's not all I'm gonna give you if you don't shut up," Karkat snaps back before tumbling over onto Kankri, sprawling atop him.

For all of Karkat's abrasiveness, he's actually quite soft; Kankri enjoys his weight.  It's not at all oppressive, not like so many things in this world.

Kankri ignores the idle threat; more often than not Karkat's blustering hot air, and somehow Kankri finds it endearing.  Somehow they both have found enough things about each other to like.

They've also found things to hate, and this--whatever this is--is anything but perfect or pure; they muddle through emotions, stirring up quite the volatile concoction of pseudo-quad confusion.

Kankri has never enjoyed kissing as much as he has with Karkat--mostly for the thrill of tongue wrestling.  Kankri especially likes winning, but Karkat battles him bitterly until they're both panting for breath.

Too often these moments heat up between them.  Karkat's hands slip a little too low, and Kankri admittedly loses himself as well.  Karkat's hands are somewhere under Kankri's sweater when the elder troll breaks the sensual trance, physically disconnecting their mouths and letting his head loll back, redfaced and apprehensive.

Karkat knows that look and its underlying connotations.  Though Kankri may be stroking his hands up Karkat's back, though his breathing may be labored, Karkat knows Kankri's warring with his conscience.

"Kankri," Karkat's voice cuts through the gristle of Kankri's conflicted thoughts.  Kankri's hands still and his pupil-less gaze twitches up to his dancestor.  Karkat's arousal is unmistakable, the heat emanating from his groin pervasive, and it's as exhilarating as it is terrifying.  Though he wants to satisfy his would-be-could-be-might-be quadrant mate, his vow holds profound meaning to him.  Would he cast it aside for another troll--especially one of his own hue?  Was he ready?  Would he ever be ready to renounce a life of celibacy to essentially create a new one with this living troll?

He fidgets as Karkat's lips hover centimeters above his.

"Karkat, I--"

Instead of kissing him, Karkat presses their foreheads together, his stare solemn, and summons his quietest voice.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to, alright?  I didn't come into this with the intent to change you or fuck up what you've got going on.  God knows I'm not gung-ho about intimacy; the only reason I'd be okay with going the whole distance is because the same color would be hitting the pail."  The vision trips Karkat up, who blushes, before resuming.  "When I'm with you, I feel like I belong; I feel accepted.  I don't expect anything from this.  I don't want you to think you need do anything but be your good goddamn obnoxious self.  I just want you."

Kankri's stunned to silence, and for once Karkat wants him to speak.  The Alternian troll is about to falter when Kankri's arms are suddenly encircling his shoulders, and his lips are smothering Karkat's with overt adoration.

When Kankri finally withdraws, he heaves a sigh of relief and smiles shakily.  He's never met another being willing to accept him for exactly who he is without any compromise.  It makes his pumper swell.

"Thank you isn't enough to convey my sentiment, but--"

Karkat cants his head and bumps their horns, the move conciliatory in nature, a certain sweetness that betrays Karkat in all of his indiscriminate fury.

"If I say shut up, will you take it as a black advance?"

Kankri scrunches his nose and drops an eyelid, activating Reproach Mode.  Before Karkat can register what's about to happen, his dancestor has flipped him over in a heap on sweater mountain and taken a seat astride his chest.

He plucks page 10 from the strewn array and Karkat spends his time tuning out Kankri to reconsider his life choices until Kankri interrupts himself to pepper kisses over Karkat's knuckles and brow.

Well, maybe it's not so bad.

Red, black, muddy shade of pink, having Kankri in all his facets continues to awe and aggravate Karkat, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

[black-quadrant]

For someone who's never fucked, Kankri Vantas moves like a seasoned lover.

The rich bassline of Android Porn sets the stage for his performance on the stripper dance pole Porrim's installed in her hive.

Porrim doesn't think a thing of it, but you can't stop staring at him.

How can she not ogle his hips that swing like a chandelier or his ass that jiggles to the commanding rhythm.

Undulating like a snake, Kankri rubs up and down the pole, straddling it with breathtaking confidence.  The beat resonates through your body, willing you to move in some way, so you tap your foot in sync, drum your fingers on your thighs and pray to the pantheon that you don't sprout a wriggly right there in her hive.

Swinging a leg around the shaft and grasping it one-handed, Kankri arches backward, tossing his head back just in time to catch your hungry stare raking up and down his backside.

The contact is electric--or maybe it's just wishful thinking.  Or maybe you're just that hot for him.  Either way, it's embarrassing and you try to blink free of the trance but you're already on his radar.  He turns back momentarily to slide slowly down the pole until he's squatting; he knows your eyes are fixed on him, and that's exactly why he's bouncing his unfairly round ass that ripples beautifully to the music.   What a fucking minx.

And all with that damnable sweater on.

He dips low and springboards back to his full height, using his grip on the pole to spin around and face you.

Smiling playfully (fucker never smiles, what a disarming sight), he curls a beckoning finger to you.

Porrim, who'd been relatively detached from this spectacle until now, gives you a shove, startling you out of your seat.  You practically limp over to him, awkward in your own skin.  The music pounds like pure sex through your body, doing wicked things to your physiology.

Once you're toe-to-toe, he leans in close enough that errant wavy locks tickle your cheek and murmurs directly into your ear beneath the blaring music.

"Hands on the pole, Karkat."

"What--"  You squawk and fumble for the pole while he moves like liquid seduction, slipping his sweater up over his head and using it to lasso your midsection.

The fabric stretches (Porrim will forgive him) as Kankri tugs, reeling himself in through it to grind, hips oscillating, up against you.  Kankri's breath prickles the hair on your nape, his heinous voice as smooth as his motives.

"You didn't think our sessions would be purely scholastic, did you, pupil?"

Out of your peripheral vision, you catch Porrim raising a toast to you.  You know who you'll be thanking for Kankri's hidden talents later.

[black-quadrant]

Oratory - KarKri

A/N:  just a little thing that sounded better in my head

-

You can look, but you can't touch, and frankly, there is nothing more agonizing than being deprived of the one thing you want most.

Kankri doesn't help alleviate your anguish; if anything, he makes it worse, crouched before you, his cheek resting on your bare thigh, casually suckling two of your fingers.  He's teaching you a new lesson in the many ways he can use his mouth to infuriate you.

"Fuck, that mouth, that horrible, pompous gorgeous mouth.  You'd look so damn good worshiping bulge.  I bet you wouldn't even gag, you insufferable teasing prick--"

Kankri listens, not the least bit offended by your vulgarity; he knows he's captivated your attention, that you are incapable of resisting the allure of his lips, and they move you are incapacitated.  Even when he's speaking, spouting irrelevant bulge-shriveling tripe, you're internally writhing to the thought of vengefully face fucking him.  Oh, the look on his face in your mind's eye is so delightfully scandalized, scowling prettily, cheeks all aglow, drooling in spite of himself as he tries to take the full, swollen length of you--

"Shit--Kankri--"  The troll's incorrigible tongue swirls around those two fingers, slathering them in saliva before he gradually ebbs off, a hot maddeningly airtight suction pulling firmly on your enveloped digits as he recedes but doesn't withdraw.  Eyes suggestively lidded, Kankri nurses the tips of your fingers, tongue flitting rapidly over the sensitive flesh, the sensual simulation shooting straight to your groin.

"Karkat, you look flustered.  Is my oral performance that evocative?  We can take a brief time-out if you'd like."  He asks, cheekily, capping each fingertip with a full-lipped kiss. "Blow me, asshole."  Speaking of bulgesucking and the lack thereof, your own stirs beneath your pants; unfortunately the movement doesn't elude Kankri's keen eye.  Nonchalantly, Kankri scoots between your thighs, stretching in such a way that his rear end jutted out, and inhaled your fingers once again.  This time around he hollows his cheeks, velvety walls surrounding you with devious intent.  You jerk back, cheeks burning, and bite back a groan as he proceeds to bob swiftly on the helpless duo.  Just when you can't get any hotter, he mumbles out a muffled, "more" and opens wide.

Swallowing your lust, you uncrook a finger and jam it into his greedy mouth.  He moans appreciatively and three downward slides later he's eased you all the way in, your fingers bumping the back of his throat.  It feels so weird, so taboo, that you almost want to instinctively retract them.  But his magnificent tongue is lolling, lashing and licking, and he's swallowing thickly, his own willowy fingers gripping your wrist as if it were the base of your bulge and oh--oh--

Oh no.

You shudder, try in vain to clap your legs shut, but his body wedged there prevents you from retreating.  He blinks, having been watching your fraught face the whole time, eyes crinkling around the edges in wicked satisfaction.  Releasing your three fingers with a noisy pop, he cocks his head and scrutinizes the tell-tale wet spot blotting your crotch. "Is that supposed to be your variant of a standing ovation, Karkat?"

"Oh dear sweet troll jesus we do not speak of this ever again."

"My lips are sealed."  He licks them corner to smirking corner, beestung and flushed from a good workout, goading your wildest pitch fantasies.

"If you're studious, perhaps I'll give you an oral exam."

The implication, however small, is more than enough to make you ache all over for the next lesson.

[black-quadrant]

He makes you drink tea because he says you drink too much coffee and it's bad for you.

He cooks for you because he claims you don't eat healthy and your body deserves more than quick-fix grubsludge.

He clips your nails and paints them (red) so you're less inclined to chew them up.

You're dubious of his motives; it's not like Kankri is known for his sincerity.  You've asked around, and Kankri is definitely not one to dote on others as he himself recoils from coddling in any form.

"Why are you doing this?"  You snap as he works a brush through your hair, hissing as the bristles catch on matted clumps.

"This?"

Kankri doesn't turn toward you.  He simply keeps brushing your hair until it shines and dusts a wayward lock off your horn.  You fidget restlessly.

"This.  Caring for me.  You're not obligated to do this shit.  You're not my lusus, and you certainly don't pity me that way."  Your overactive imagination contrives an image of you two in-flush, and you don't know whether to laugh at scoff at the notion; you blush instead and banish the flustering thought.  "So why?"

"Because you never said no."  Karkat's thankful Kankri's seated behind him and can't see that his cheeks are emulating the lurid color of maraschino cherries.

"Because you allow me to be a part of your life, and that's a right--a privilege--I will not take for granted.  Every moment with you is a chance for me to get to know you."

You finally twist your body around to look at him, freezing beneath the disconcerting intensity of his gaze.

"Why don't you hate me?  I'm nothing like you.  You should find my brutish nature and lack of regard abhorrent because it directly contradicts what you claim to stand for and teach.  I figured you'd be let down by who I really am."

Kankri's flinch surprises you, and when he takes your face in his hands you fall silent, mentally bracing yourself for what he'll say or do next because quite frankly you don't know so you instinctively prepare for the worst.

"Who could ever hate you?"

You surprise yourself when you kiss him.

[black-quadrant]

When you first met the troll who shares your blood curse, you were positive you’d hate him.

Afterall, how could you possibly get along with a fellow mutant blood?  He’s just a spitting image reminder of how much you detest yourself.

Your dancestor, however, doesn’t share the sentiment.

He feels a kinship with you—the poor idiot.

He feels like you can commiserate in the hardships of being off-spectrum.

What does he know of hardship?  He’s soft all over and wears his—your—blood color on purpose.

It wasn’t an easy breakthrough; the two of you fought relentlessly.

You shed tears, and he kissed them away.

You pushed him away but he kept persisting.

And you cried again because damn him why can’t he just go back to being an unrepentant asshole with no redeeming qualities?

Underneath the virtuous guise, Kankri is as damaged as you.

Behind his righteous prattle, Kankri actually hates himself as much as you.

And it’s strange and it’s wrong but you take comfort in that.

The first time he embraced you, you felt… calm.

The smell of him, the warmth of him, the gentility in his hands, all of it soothed you so fully, so quickly, that it scared you.

But when you tried again to push him away, he kissed your forehead and squeezed you.

And it was all you needed—that final crack in your armor—for you to come undone in his care.

You feel safe.  You feel… validated somehow.

He cradles you, and it’s all red, but you don’t mind.

It feels like you’ve come home, and you’ve never ever felt like you’ve ever been home until now.

You drop your baggage at his feet and bury your face into the color you’ve been raised to hate.