This a Tavros/ Vriska centric rewrite of something I previously deleted. It contains dark, mature themes, and explicit sexual content. I'll respond to any reviews I get for this in the next week, so please comment. You can tell me if you hated it. I'll just be thrilled you said anything at all. Constructive criticism is welcome. I'm not the kind of author that gets all mad when I'm criticized. Expect more chapters soon.
V8ska and tAVROS
Vriska stared at Tavros through narrowed eyes, and he looked down at his lap, glanced up at her sympathetically and then looked down at his lap again, his hands gripping the spokes of his wheelchair tentatively.
"You know you don't have to do this," said Tavros "If you don't want to. Uhh...I mean if you're scared or something, or if you're not ready. You...uh well you don't have to. I mean, I know you're under a lot of pressure from everyone to uhh...to uh...you know...to do the thing...but I don't want you to feel like there's any pressure from me."
Vriska glared at him. How dare he suggest that she was afraid of anything. Her hands balled into fists and shook with what she assured herself was rage.
Tavros looked away again in embarrassment, and assuming an expression of mildly pissed off curiosity, Vriska began to observe him critically. She had always found him good looking, tall and strong with thick shoulders and long bull-like horns. It was the thing that had drawn her to him in the first place, his masculine frame. Always he seemed older and more physically mature than the other trolls, and always he gave people the first impression of being much more intimidating than he actually was...until, of course, he opened his mouth.
His arms were muscular, now, from years of pulling himself around in the wheelchair, and months of dragging himself up flights of steps. His hair shaved on the sides, a tuft of it ran down the center of his forehead in a thick black mo-hawk. Below it she observed his concerned face so sweet and boyish despite the long sharp fangs that curled out from his mouth in a gooberish over bite that, as a low blood troll, he would never have been able afford to fix. Her eyes locked on his for a moment, and his lower lip quivered. A pair of bronze-colored tears pricked the corners of his eyes.
"Vriska..." he said.
Vriska tore her eyes away from his, and a dull blue blush crept its way across her grey face. She didn't know why. He'd cried in front of her so many times before. Why should it make her uncomfortable now?
"Vriska...if you don't want to...I understand. You can wait if you want until we're both older. Or if you uh...if you want to maybe a with troll who's not uhh...you k-know...me."
He stared down again, his cheeks flushing the same bronze color as the tears that pricked the corners of his eyes.
"Ugh. You're so lame, Tavros," groaned Vriska. "You know they probably stuck me with you out of spite because of how jealous they are of my incredible awesomeness."
This certainly wasn't true, as Vriska was well aware. The memory of Terezi's stinging comment on the subject was still fresh in her mind.
"She's possessive of him...like a human," Terezi had whispered very seriously to Karkat as he was organizing the shipping board. "She'd probably have a heart attack and die if someone else tried to touch him. It's ridiculous, really."
The S-burg asteroid had destroyed their native planet and decimated their species. Thus, the twelve trolls had made a decision, mate and reproduce in the forbidden way, without the buckets, until the species was restored to its former grandeur. To clear up confusion, a shipping chart had been drawn up to decide upon preliminary partners, and predictably, Vriska had been paired with Tavros. The rationalization being that if another Troll tried to touch Tavros, Vriska would go ape-shit crazy and stab them until they were dead. Vrska denied this accusation outwardly, but inwardly...suspected that it may have been true.
Tavros lifted one of his hands from his wheel chair, and reached out to touch one of her hands, still balled into shaking fists. She pulled back instinctively, and in that moment of panic a curtain of her long, black hair came loose from the bobby pin that she used to keep it out of her face, momentarily obscuring her field of vision. Quickly she swept it to the side and brushed it behind one pointed ear, and then readjusted her glasses, managing to crush the expression of panic that she felt force itself onto her face almost as suddenly as it had appeared.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I...I..uhh...I didn't mean to scare you," stuttered Tavros apologetically.
"Oh puh-lease, what are you trying to make me laugh myself into a coma? Like I could be scared of you."
She meant this as an insult, but Tavros smiled as though relieved. His eyes filled with some very bizarre and un-troll-like affection for her which was more akin to the Troll disease of friendship than it was to red or black romance.
She walked over to his wheel chair, her yellow eyes widening with curiosity and anticipation. She wanted him. She couldn't help but want him.
"...Can you even?" she asked.
"I can," he said.
"But I mean, can you even feel anything down there?" she asked.
"Yea," he said. "It kind of uh...come and goes more or less randomly. I can right now."
"But you're not going to loose feeling of your dick in the middle of us doing it, are you?" inquired Vriska off-handedly. "Because that could really put a cramp in my style."
"No...," said Tavros. "I don't...think it works that way."
She reached out and pulled the black button down shirt off of his shoulders. It slipped down his arms and fell into a crumpled heap onto the seat of his wheel chair. She grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and tried to wrench it over his head, but his horns got into the way. She yanked at the collar for several moments in frustration, and finally pulled at the base of the shirt in a way that made the folds of its black fabric obscure the upped half of his face.
"It zippers in the back," he offered helpfully.
Vriska found the zipper that he was talking about on the back of his shirt collar and pulled it open. Then she pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it across the room.
Tavros reached a hand out to touch the hem of Vriska's shirt.
"This is getting stupid," said Vriska. "And no...My cloths stay on."
"Fine, you can take my shirt off if you want to, but the bra stays on."
With shaking fingers, he removed her gray jacket and the black shirt underneath. She could feel his eyes on her, staring at her grey breasts, beneath an opaque layer of lacy blue fabric.
"Take your pants off," she told him.
He wheeled himself over to the mattress that was in the room, behind where Vriska was standing. The other trolls had told him about this bizarre object. This was the human equivalent of a recupericoon, but also...sometimes the humans had sex on top of it.
He lifted himself out of the wheelchair, and onto the bed, pulling his body and useless legs along with his muscular arms.
"Ugh, this is taking too long," said Vriska. "You're so pathetic."
She walked over to him, and unzipped his pants, then seized them by the waste and yanked them down. Tavros flinched as she grabbed the elastic of his underpants and yanked those down as well. He felt the blood rush to his face with embarrassment.
He was totally naked now and she was still almost entirely clothed.
"Aren't going to uhh...take anything else off?" he asked her, feeling very self conscious.
"No, I don't think so," she said.
"...Please?" he asked her.
"No fucking way."
"But Vriska, it would...uh...it won't w-work if..."
"There," she said, unzipping the fly on the front of her jeans. "Problem solved."
She moved closer to him and put her arms around his shoulders, enjoying the feel of his hard chest against her breasts. He smelled good, she decided, and his bare skin felt smooth and welcoming, in the places where it pressed against her own. His arms wrapped around her, and she leaned into the warmth of his body. He nuzzled his face against hers and she felt the rough texture of his chin against her cheeks. He kissed her on the lips cautiously, and she grabbed the back of his head, pressing her lips his against his as she pushed her tongue into his mouth. She could feel a heat growing in her abdomen, as she kissed him, accompanied by the urge to thrust her pelvis in his direction.
"...I think the sex is happening," she moaned, though in truth she wasn't entirely sure what the sex was or how it worked.
"V-vriska I...I...uhh...I don't think..."
"Shut up." she snapped "I said the freaking sex is happening."
He kissed her, and she grabbed a handful of his bare ass, grinding against his naked body. He felt himself get hard against the cold zipper of her open jeans.
He put a hand on her breast and kissed her on the mouth, feeling the details of her pointed teeth with his tongue. She smacked him on the rump, with her prosthetic arm and the impact of the metal appendage against his bare skin left a deep bronze bruise. He whimpered but the sound was muffled by her mouth pressed against his. She smacked him again and he broke the kiss.
"Oww! Vriska, you're too rough."
"Oh, suck it up, Torreodork."
His erection grew and she thrust against him, feeling him, for the first time, enter her body.
"...Ohh...yes...yeesss..." she moaned, grinding her sensitive spot against his erect shaft. "...Fuck...yes..."
The warmth of his body against hers, the smell of his hair, the feel of his hard muscles and soft skin, the low timber of his voice as he groaned when she hit him, it was all too much for her. She lost herself in the ecstasy of the moment, her brain reeling with images of him nude and humiliated, waiting for her on the bare mattress, his horns, his chest, his fat rump, his throbbing bone bulge. She let out an involuntary noise that was something between a moan and a hiss as she felt the muscles contract in her lower abdomen and the accompanying rush of pleasure that came with it. Her eyes dilated momentarily and the world was a blur of grey and yellow. She could think of nothing but the pleasure and for a moment there was nothing, nothing but the alien hiss of her own mindless ecstasy, so close yet far away, it was so strange to her that it might have belonged to another person, and as her mind returned to her the only thing she could think, over and over again as she continued to grind against him was: Was that...was that...what orgasm fells like...? She became determined to get the feeling again.
Tavros moaned with pleasure as she thrust against him, arching his back above his imobile hips. She slapped his behind as hard as she could and he let out a sharp: "Ouch!"
He felt humiliated to have his to have his bear bottom strubbed like that, no one was watching him, but he still felt humiliated and the bruises really, really hurt...yet for some reason he didn't actually want her to stop. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was how much pleasure she seemed to get from it. Maybe it was his fucked up nervous system telling him the wrong things.
"Ouch! Ow! Oww!" he yelped when she hit him, and a slow grin spread across her fanged mouth. He was being a bit theatrical about it because she seemed to like that.
She thrust against him and he felt a rush a pleasure, moaning as he ejaculated his seed into her body. She made a hissing noise that was purr-like and arched her back, the black pupils of her eyes growing large within their yellow irises.
They collapsed into each other's arms, mellow through the veil of their post-orgasmic bliss.
For a while they lay there silently, staring at the dimly lit ceiling, which was a thing made beautiful by their altered state. Vriska turned onto her side to nuzzle her face against the rough texture of Tavros' chin, and he stroked a lock of her long black hair lovingly. She let him put his hands under her bra and massage her nipples.
"You know, I've learned from sitcoms and movies that men hate it when you talk after sex, but I really don't give a fuck. I've just gotta' say. That was amazing," said Vriska.
Tavros rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling again."
"...Vriska...I...I...love you," he said.
She turned her head to stare at him, and observed that his eyes, wet with the validity of this inadvisable emotion. As strongly as she felt for him she could not bring herself to repeat the words back. He was a bronze blood, after all, awkward, dorkish, and vastly inferior to her by virtually every standard to be conceived by troll kind. Never, in the course of her short life time, had she ever met a shyer, more awkward, pitiful, geeky dweeb...Yet, in this moment, she was sure she loved him...She couldn't say it, though...she just wouldn't. She refused to. So instead she said: