
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/913903.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Terezi_Pyrope/Dave_Strider
  Character:
      Dave_Strider, Terezi_Pyrope
  Additional Tags:
      Spanking, Xeno, Tentabulges, Frottage, Face_Slapping, Butt_Slapping, Porn
      with_Feelings, references_to_canon_character_death, Emotional_Hurt/
      Comfort, Dom/sub_Undertones, legislacerator_LARPing, Established
      Relationship, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Troll_Culture, bound
      hands, Light_Bondage
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-08-05 Words: 4233
****** Kind of Pushed Kind of Bent ******
by Zee_(orphan_account)
Summary
     She probably doesn’t even know the particular context of slapping a
     human on their butt, it’s not like trolls have parents, yet she’s
     still doing an eerily good job of playing along with the scenario.
     (Or: the one where Dave gets spanked.)
Notes
     Title from "Down Boy" by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Thanks to Diatomatic
     for the beta.
Of course you’re the one who starts it, and of course it starts as a joke, a
role-playing situation taken just a titch too far. You’re playing the convict
and Terezi is the legislacerator, and this is at least the fourth time you two
have played this out, and you’re a little bored of it but you don’t have the
heart to tell her that. Terezi seems to be having as much fun as she always
does, all deadly serious in justice mode, her mouth a thin line and her
nostrils flaring to sniff out your deceit, which you think is really just an
excuse for her to press her nose up against your shades. (You would never tell
her this but whenever she does that it’s fucking adorable.) She’s trying to get
you to reveal the location of the hostages--troll criminals don’t take
hostages, because why would anyone care about the potential death of civilians?
But ever since you explained the concept to Terezi, she’s fallen in love with
it, and your roleplays now always include lavishly gruesome accounts of the
hapless innocents who’ve been murdered so far.
You’re on your knees with your hands bound behind you, so when you give a
cheeky response to one of her questions and Terezi slaps you, it’s difficult to
keep your balance and you teeter sideways. It’s not the first time she’s
slapped you as a legislacerator and you’ve never really minded, but it’s
different when your hands are tied behind you--there’s no way to really brace
yourself for it, and a rush of panicky adrenaline hits you because you can’t
defend yourself, even though you don’t actually want to.
Basically it’s kind of alarming, and who the fuck knows why but some dumbass
subconscious part of you takes those tinkling alarm bells as a signal to grin
wider and tell her that you’ll only spill on the location of the three
remaining hostages if she lets you pail her waste chute while her lusus
watches. Mission super fucking accomplished: she backhands you this time,
sending you sprawling.
And, huh, you are definitely starting to pop a tent in your god pajamas, which
is... new and interesting. Usually roleplaying with Terezi ends with you
getting sentenced to death, and then at the last minute you narrowly avoid the
harsh noose of justice when a Scalemate takes the fall for you, and the
scenario generally devolves into you and Terezi fucking around with chalk in
Cantown. Sometimes she’ll lick your cheek afterward, if her interrogation has
required slapping. But even with the slapping, you’ve never thought of her
roleplaying as, like, sexy roleplaying; the few times sex has been on the table
in your relationship, there’s been no funny business introduced to said table,
in fact the table has been located securely in a bedroom with the door locked
and a soundtrack of carefully-selected mood music playing with no one tied up
and both of you rarely more than a few seconds away from dying of embarrassment
and awkwardness.
In short you’ve never gotten hard for Terezi while sprawled in a random lab
room that anyone could theoretically walk into, surrounded by dragon plushies
with your hands tied behind your back and a look on your girlfriend’s face like
she’s calculating how much more she’ll have to slap you around before you give.
You shift onto your knees, shoulders and cheek to the ground because you can’t
push yourself up on your hands. “Oh no Your Honor, please don’t hit me again!”
you say in your best falsetto, and you expect Terezi to complain that you’re
breaking character.
Instead she smacks your ass, hard enough to really sting.
Who the fuck knows if this is Terezi being weird for her own unknown reasons or
Terezi seeing if she can freak you out, and if it’s the latter then like hell
you’re giving her the satisfaction of not going along with it.
"What on Earth--! Objection your honor, this is depraved,” You say, your
falsetto turning into more of a cracked squeak. For a second you’re worried
that throwing in an ‘objection’ will actually make her take you seriously and
stop, so you push your butt up towards the ceiling in what you can only hope
will be taken as an eager manner, and she slaps you again. Harder this time,
enough to elicit a shocked intake of breath from you, a noise that some people
might interpret as a gasp.
You hear her shuffle closer, sitting up on her knees behind you and to your
side, just outside of the edge of your peripheral vision. Her bony hip presses
against the edge of your thigh. The closer I am the better to spank you my
dear, and oh jesus your hands are tied up and Terezi is spanking you, this is a
thing that is actually happening to you holy fuck.
“Objection overruled," she says, and you maybe had half a chubbie before but
damn, now your dick is really intent on growing the distance.
"You should take my pants off," you say in your own voice, and she snickers and
slaps you lightly on your thigh.
"Quiet! Criminals are not allowed to speak!” There’s something growly and
guttural in her voice, something pretty obviously not human, and it raises
hairs on the back of your neck. It reminds you that actual murder was involved
in the roleplaying she used to do before you met her, and weirdly enough
reminds you of Karkat’s dumbass warning not to get swept up in her
‘assassination games.’ It should be the world’s biggest deterrent. You press
your cheek against the cold concrete floor and let her tug your pants and
boxers down to your knees.
“Dave,” she says, squeezes your ass and oh fuck, claws, not enough to scratch
but enough to make all your nerve endings pay rapt attention. “You have been
found guilty and you need to be punished.”
You can’t help but groan at that, embarrassingly loud. Jesus, she probably
doesn’t even know the particular context of slapping a human on their butt,
it’s not like trolls have parents, yet she’s still doing an eerily good job of
playing along with the scenario because she’s Terezi and she’s terrifying. She
spanks you again, and on your bare skin it hurts so much worse, and then she
does it again and again without giving your skin any time to recover and you
cannot believe how incredibly fucking much this is doing it for you.
She pushes up your shirt and you feel the weight of her leaning on her back,
her claws dragging against your ribs as she moves them back down to your hips.
You want her to touch your dick so bad but it’s almost better that she isn’t,
the deprivation somehow makes it sting even worse when she slaps you again. Her
palm hits your leg this time, because she can’t reach your ass when she’s
practically lying on top of you like this, and it’s not like you don’t want her
to smack you anywhere and everywhere, but--
“Nn, can you--it’s better the other way,” you say, and you can feel your face
going red but thankfully Terezi gets it, she doesn’t actually make you utter
the sentence ‘Can you focus your attention on smacking my ass instead of
anywhere else please,’ and she growls hot breath in your ear and shifts and
hits you hard enough that you actually hear the whistle of her hand swishing
through the air before her palm connects.
You can see her out of the corner of your eye, trying to shimmy out of her
pants one-handed while her other hand continues to spank you, rhythmically
without pause. The skin of your ass is starting to feel hot and tender, and
when she demands that you spread your legs you do it without hesitation to give
her easier access, and when your neglected boner finally receives some much-
needed attention you’re expecting her other hand, but instead--
Your whole body spasms and you can feel your wrists straining against the
ropes. Terezi’s bulge is wet, is the thing, and colder than you might expect,
and you had no idea that it was prehensile enough to wrap around your dick like
this. It feels better than anything so slimy has any right to, both squeezing
your dick and rubbing up and down against it; from the way Terezi’s pumping her
hips behind you, it seems like she’s getting off on the friction as much as you
are.
It’s fucking unreal. Getting jerked off by your maybe-girlfriend’s tentacle
dick somehow makes the realization that holy shit you’re having sex right now
hit you like a ton of bricks. It’s not the first time you’ve had sex (it’s the
fourth time--even though you’re not keeping count god dammit because that would
be such an uncool thing to do, it’s just that you can’t imagine sex with Terezi
ever being unremarkable enough not to warrant remembering how often it’s
happened), but it is the first time it’s felt like this: urgent, natural, not-
awkward and without anyone fucking it up by thinking too much or coming in
their pants (which was you the first time, and her the second).
And the fact that for once you’re not nervous, not tense, not fumbling and it’s
because she’s been spanking the hell out of you--jesus, what’s wrong with your
brain?
You’re distracted from your own dismay at what your crank chooses to be turned
by when you feel the flat of Terezi’s bulge press against your balls. You’ve
never had sex with a human girl so maybe that would feel just as strange, but
this seriously is like--it’s so fucking alien, and you want to reach down and
wrap your hand around your dick and hers together, but your wrists are still
tied.
“Dave you are just--you’re so--” Terezi says, her voice breaking when her bulge
twists against your stomach. She spanks you again. “You smell so good”
"Ngh--yeah Terezi thanks, just don't stop--"
She doesn't stop, and somehow all of it--the ache in your cramping shoulders
from having your hands tied behind you for too long, the bruising on your
knees, your forehead hurting where it's been pressed against the floor--
combines with the way your ass feels when she smacks it to bring you closer and
closer to coming. It's not the pain that does it--well, it is the pain, but
it's also how Terezi makes you feel like you just have to lie there and take it
until she's done with you, oh god. Her left hand grips your hip, her claws just
barely breaking the skin, and her right hand keeps hitting the same painful
spot again and again without the blow ever softening. Her bulge is thick
between your legs with the tip curling itself tightly around the the head of
your cock, and it’s like she’s taken your free will and absconded with it and
you fucking never want her to give it back.
She leans over you and licks a stripe up the back of your neck, groaning into
your hair. She slurs incoherently, “You taste amazing, Dave, you’re candy,” and
god her obsession with red blood is so creepy and wonderful and it makes you
laugh even when she’s smacking your ass and rubbing one out against you.
You think about the image the two of you must make: your bare ass red from
getting hit, your thighs slippery and green from the alien sex fluids produced
by Terezi’s genitals, and her bulge entwined with your dick and pressing up
against your stomach. You think about how possessive she must look, her hand
gripping your hip tight and her body hunched over you while you’re all tied up
and helpless, you must look like you’re completely hers, and the thought sends
you over the edge. You come all over her bulge and all over yourself and when
you stop shaking you are seriously fucking sore all over.
You’re now lying in a pool of teal, so while you were busy losing your mind,
Terezi must have come too. She sags against you for a couple of beats before
abruptly moving away, and her absence means that the air is suddenly cold
against your exposed ass and your softening junk. You manage to flop onto your
side and then your back, and man you would appreciate it if Terezi could untie
you now that sexy times are over, but you can still feel your pulse throb at
the base of your dick and your head is muzzy from the orgasm, so you’re not
super in a hurry.
“Wow,” you tell the ceiling. “Spanking, huh. Not a thing I knew I liked before
today.” Terezi doesn’t interrupt you, so you keep talking, covering up the
conspicuous sound of how hard you’re both breathing. “This meteor is like a
veritable fountain of self-discovery. Maybe tomorrow I’ll discover that I’ve
actually been repressing my hardcore appreciation of Matthew McConaughey my
whole life and all those times I made fun of John for liking him were just the
lady doth protesting too much. And yeah Rose, I know that using ‘doth’ in that
way makes no sense, it was in service of the joke, and anyway shut up you don’t
get to correct my grammar when you’re not even in the room.”
You take a breath and contemplate an alternate universe where you don’t ruin
the afterglow of any orgasm given to you by another person by embarrassingly
rambling like a moron. What a great universe that would be to live in. You wish
you could be this magically non-afterglow-ruining Dave, that Dave sounds
awesome. Yeah.
It takes a second for you to realize that Terezi isn’t saying anything in
response, that she hasn’t said a word since she climbed off of you. You twist
your neck to look over at her, but her back is to you and her shoulders are
hunched.
That familiar ‘oh shit’ refrain finally manages to push its way through the fog
of your post-sex stupidity. You have fucked this up somehow, and Terezi won’t
look at you.
“Terezi? Hey, um... you okay?” You knee-walk over to her, and she flinches away
when you try to bump her shoulder with your own.
She starts, like she had forgotten you were still there, and when she glances
down at your bound wrists she looks crestfallen, fucking devastated, and then
her claws are scrabbling at your hands, she’s slicing through the ropes to free
you as fast as she can.
“I’m sorry,” she says, muttering it over and over like a chant. “I’m so stupid,
I hurt you and I’m sorry, I should never have--I’m so sorry.”
You can’t handle hearing Terezi apologize for you, not for something that felt
so good, so right. It pretty much makes you want to throw a tantrum about how
wrong it is. “Hey, what, no,” you say, pretty much as awkward as it’s possible
for a human to be. “You don’t have to be sorry for that, it felt good, I mean
it hurt but it was what I wanted, and... I mean, wasn’t it what you wanted
too?”
She finally turns to face you, and you can’t tell a god damn thing about what
she’s feeling because of her fucking glasses. It gives you a pang of sympathy
for everyone that has to deal with your own opaque ass. “Yes! That’s what’s
terrible about it, that--I deliberately hurt my matesprit. I’m a monster.”
You gawk. You know it’s a completely inappropriate reaction, but it’s a fucking
struggle to keep from laughing, because what? Seriously what? “Uh. I thought we
were both crystal fucking clear on how I was asking for it and how it made me
come my brains out? So, uh... how does that make you a monster?”
She grimaces, her face twisting up like you’ve been stabbed and you seriously
can’t stand being the one to put that look on her face, it makes panic rise up
in your throat. “I hurt you,” she insists. “I caused you pain while we were
pailing and I did it because I wanted to, don’t you get that?”
“Yeah, I mean, I was there,” you say, feeling like you and she might as well be
speaking two different languages for all that you’re understanding each other.
You want to reach out but you’re not sure that she would react well to being
touched right now. “That was kind of the point? I was into it, man, I wanted
you to.”
“That doesn’t matter! It shouldn’t have been what I wanted, I should never
have--” Terezi stops, rubbing her hands over her face in frustration. “Augh.
Figures you wouldn’t get it. I should go.”
“No, stay,” and your voice sounds so small and pathetic to your ears. “Look I’m
sorry I don’t get it but could you at least try to explain it to me? I mean
damn, I thought that a species that actually required hatesex for reproduction
would be down with some kinky shit.”
Terezi gives you her version of an incredulous stare, which involves her
flaring her nostrils as much as possible. And then she starts laughing and
laughing, going into some hardcore hysterics, and oh no you’re pretty sure that
she’s laughing and crying now--
“God, you don’t know anything,” she says. “It’s expected to do this with a
kismesis, you’re supposed to hurt a kismesis, that’s just natural. But I don’t
hate you, and so--” She stops, taking in a deep shuddery breath, and for a few
long moments you think she’s not going to say anything else.
“The thing about quadrants,” she says, and you suppress a groan. Fuck, you hate
lectures about quadrants, but obviously this has her pretty upset which means
you’ve been a fucking idiot to not pay attention to this shit in the past, so
you shut up and listen as hard as you can now. “Is that they’re supposed to be
about expressing different facets of your personality. The caliginous quadrants
allow you to get out your aggression and and anger in a way that doesn’t result
in needless violence and damage. Caliginous relationships provide that outlet,
which is very necessary as a troll reaches adulthood.”
“But the red quadrants--” She breaks off, and the objective tone of her voice
is gone. Now she sounds like she’s pushing each word past a lump in her throat.
“Having a matesprit or a moirail should be about nurturing,” she says. “It
should be about letting yourself be kind and good to someone and giving
pleasure instead of pain, but I hurt you, and that means the part of me that
can be kind to someone must not exist--”
“Whoa, hey, it’s not like you caused any lasting damage, I’m still in one piece
here, see?” But she’s not even listening, big fat green tears are dropping onto
her shirt and this has become so extremely Not About You that you know she
wouldn’t be seeing you even if she weren’t blind.
“Vriska was my best friend and I killed with her and then I tried to kill her
and then I actually killed her,” she says, bitter and shaky. “Killing was all I
had to offer, I couldn’t help her, couldn’t--and then there’s you and I’m
flushed for you but I’m still causing pain, it’s like it’s all I’m any good
for--”
That’s it, you can’t keep your distance anymore. You try to pull her in for a
hug but she pushes you away, snarling. “No, leave me alone! You’re not my
fucking moirail, I don’t want that and I don’t deserve it.”
“Oh my god, I have no interest in being whatever that is,” you say, and for
just a second you wish passionately that you could just like an awesome girl
and kiss her without having to constantly navigate an alien culture and
bullshit quadrants and PTSD and painful ethical quandaries over murder and
mortality. But the wishing doesn’t last because this is Terezi and you wouldn’t
actually have her any other way. You stop trying to pull her in for a hug but
you stubbornly leave your hand on your shoulder, giving comfort whether or not
she’ll actually take it.
“This is a human thing, okay? Humans are allowed to give hugs and cuddle even
when they’re having sex with the cuddlee--actually, especially then. And I’m
not going to just leave the room while you’re all crying and miserable, that
would be upsetting as hell for me, so even if I can’t say anything to convince
you that you’re totes not a monster, can you please just let me freaking be
here for you at least?”
She hesitates, but gives you a stiff nod, and you cautiously put your arm
around her. She turns her face into your neck, getting your skin wet with her
tears, and it makes your chest feel all funny.
Also, you have just remembered that your pants are still bunched up around your
knees and that your dick and balls--now encrusted with drying spunk both alien
and human, lovely--are still exposed. And there’s no way to discreetly pull
your pants up without ruining the hug that Terezi has reluctantly allowed you
to bestow upon her. Dammit. You are pretty sure that you’re terrible at this,
and that ‘this’ encompasses everything.
You press a kiss to the side of one of her horns. “For what it’s worth, I don’t
feel like you were hurting me just now,” you say, as gently as you can. “In
fact, if anything that was actually pretty kind and nurturing of you, since you
were giving me what I wanted and, uh, sorta making all my dreams come true and
stuff.” Not that you have ever fantasized about someone spanking you before, or
um. Not that you would ever admit to that, at any rate. “And while this
probably means fuck all coming from someone who never even met her, I don’t
think you’re a monster for killing Vriska. But hey.” You touch your fingers to
her chin and lift her face so that she can look you in the eye, at least
metaphorically.
“I can definitively say that what we just did together does not make you a bad
person. You’ve only ever been good to me, okay? You’ve been the best, Terezi.”
You are hardcore blushing from pouring your heart out like this, but you shut
your mouth and refrain from disclaiming your statement re: the bestness of
Terezi with an ironic joke. From this close, you can see through her glasses
enough to see her blinking. She doesn’t seem to be crying anymore, and her deep
heaving breaths are calming down, becoming more even and less panicked. She
rubs viciously at her wet cheek with one hand and leans back away from you, but
she doesn’t push you away completely, which thank god because you really want
her to stay close. If she needed to go off and cry by herself then you’d let
her, but it would fucking suck.
The pause gets drawn out long enough for you to start feeling kind of like a
doofus, and then she says,
“Thanks,” sounding just as awkward as you feel, and you are relieved that the
person you’re sweet on feels just as weird about big displays of emotion as you
do.
She makes a face like she can tell you’re laughing at her on the inside, and
leans in to kiss you, for once being gentle about it and keeping her teeth in
check instead of making you feel a little like a(n adorable) shark is nibbling
at you. You kiss her back and let her pull you into her lap, your naked bits
nestled comfortably against the warmth of her shirt.
You really hope that eventually, she’ll be okay with the concept of
roughhousing during not-hatesex, because you’ll be kind of bummed out if this
was the first and last time you’ll ever get to experience Terezi slapping you
around. If there ever is a next time, maybe you can convince her to spank you
over her knee, perhaps while you’re wearing a short frilly dress. And pigtails,
is your hair long enough to put into pigtails? Shit, if this is a thing that
you’re apparently into then like hell are you gonna half-ass it.
But you guess you can keep it vanilla until Terezi’s convinced that she’s not a
puppy-killer or something. To be honest, you don’t really care what kind of sex
you have or even whether or not orgasms are involved at all if she continues to
let you touch her hair and her horns and kiss her like you mean it.
She breaks the kiss to lick your cheek, and you are never gonna be able to not
love it whenever she gives you a random licking, it’s your fucking favorite
thing, like the ultimate signal that the girl in your arms could not be anyone
other than Terezi Pyrope.
“You’re sticky and you smell like genetic material,” she says, and you grin
like a loon.
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