Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/508218. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: M/M Fandom: Homestuck, MS_Paint_Adventures Relationship: Gamzee_Makara/Dave_Strider Character: Gamzee_Makara, Dave_Strider Additional Tags: Bondage, orgasm_denail, Porn, why_do_i_write_these_things, because_no_one censors_me, breath_play, Blooding_and_biting, non-con, or_I_prefer DUBIOUS_CON_because_he_wants_it, he's_just_a_bitch, dub_con, I_am_ramping up_the_tags_due_to_TRIGGER_complaints._I_figured_that_was_implied_with the_bondage, Well_-_Freeform, I_apparently_am_wrong, Mentions_of Breathplay, nothing_SERIOUS!_Promise!, just_the_allusion_to_most_of_it, except_the_orgasm_denial, that's_a_thing_here Series: Part 4 of FILLS_n_REQUESTS Stats: Published: 2012-09-09 Updated: 2013-05-26 Chapters: 4/? Words: 3093 ****** Nibble, Nibble, Suck, Bite ****** by Momma Summary The troll chuckles, flash-stepping away and then back again with something his behind his back as a grin near splits his face in half. It reminded you of the Cheshire cat and it didn't escape your Irony Meter that the damned cat had been insane too.   TRIGGER WARNINGS, if the bondage tag was not enough. Notes gamzee tying dave up and rimming him please c: also tying him up and not letting him cum oh and some fingering mmmmmm hehehehehe   ANOTHER old fill that I am DETERMINED to finish cause this WORKS for me, okay? ***** Chapter 1 ***** He had caught him while he was sleeping too deeply from utter exhaustion. Caught him and tied him down and left him defenselessly nude. Even his shades were missing and if it hadn't been for the slightest bit of slack available, Dave might have gone and lost his mind in horrible rage-terror. As it was, he was currently glaring - in a blase way, of course - at the indigo troll that loomed over the side of the hastily scraped together bed. Probably alchemized, actually. Dave pulled on his arms again, his legs useless since he wasn't quite flexible enough to literally bend himself in half. Bro might have been, but he had never mastered that level of stretchiness. The blond lifted a brow at the troll, clearly asking what the fucking hell was he thinking. "The fuck, Makara?" The troll chuckles, flash-stepping away and then back again with something his behind his back as a grin near splits his face in half. It reminded you of the Cheshire cat and it didn't escape your Irony Meter that the damned cat had been insane too. The moment he latches onto Dave's leg, the blond stiffens because if Gamzee if one thing, it is not gentle. More like FIERCE. EXPLOSIVE. TERRIFYING. But the clawed appendage on his leg was nearly gentle as he caressed Dave's calf and knee, contemplative even. And before Dave can react, can figure out what the hell the clown has up his many sleeves, there is a leather strip strapped to first one knee and then the other, the white paint cracking with the force of glee on the gray face. Dave had officially hit his O'Shit O'Meter peek and was more than a little worried. Usually, Terezi was there to make sure the insanely strong troll didn't break his incredibly fragile human skin and bones and organs in a moment of uncontrolled wanton movement. Apparently, this douchnozzle motherfucking dicktwat had stolen him when the lil' fem troll wasn't around otherwise she would have been there at the side of the bed when he had awoken. The blond hoped like hell her Moirail senses were tingling or something so that he would be able to live after this encounter. Fuck, please please please let his crazy pale romance sweep in soon... Gamzee was off to the side, pondering it look like, hand to chin and bottom lip pouted, eyes nearly crossed. He hummed as he trotted normally over to a tall stand-like area, drawers upon drawers available to view but with no clue as to what they would hold. The tall troll pulled one open, glancing over its wares and then pulling a long matte black bar from the depths. Dave shivered in fear as he watched the other male test and toss the bar, applying pressure to see if it would bend. It did not and Dave felt his heart stop beating as adrenaline suddenly left him, cold replacing the once heated rush to find a way out. Wrists going raw, sweat breaking out across his chest and forehead, he felt his "cool dude" attitude desert him with a finality that would not be faked. If Gamzee thought that beating the shit out of Dave with a METAL POLE was a good fucking idea, then there was little chance Dave would survive this encounter. And Time Powers were out. He wasn't even sure WHEN he fell asleep nor really aware of what he had been doing. Funny how time travel depended on things like that to work. The approaching steps startled him, the red, red, candy red eyes staring up into what had become intensely indigo, the blond fearing the worst when the bar was brought to bear around his knees. The "snick-snap" of clips clicking loudly into place brought him a moment of pure horror as the thought that is was his legs snapping so quickly, he hadn't had time yet to feel pain. Not so, if would seem as the bar weighed on his knees from the black leather strips, holding his knees and thighs apart like some sexual offering to spiteful gods. In this case, he didn't think the analogy was that far off the mark as he stared into Gamzee's indigo eyes. "well, motherfucker, this FUCKER HERE IS GONna get his pail on WITH THIS HUMAN MOTHerfucker right HERE," the troll growled in his fluctuating voice, the blond teen wondering if he shouldn't try timey-wimey stuff anyway and fuck the consequences but never got the chance as he was flipped from his back to his stomach, a pillow tucked under his hips as if the troll cared. And then he did the scariest thing of all. He crawled up behind Dave. ***** Chapter 2 ***** The blond trembled, back bowing instinctively away when those rough, strong, needle-like talons sliced gently along his spine, not breaking the skin and barely raising welts. In fact, if Dave could stop his panic for a moment, he might actually say the troll was being kind, gentle even. He could, and he did, so the panic that had been fluttering in his belly seized into a cold lump, one that moved up his body and decided to lodge itself in the back of his throat. The soundless whimper that quivered over his lips and into the air like a rushed gasp jolted him. Striders do not FEAR. He should be fighting back! Taking charge! Fucking that crazy fucking troll and PUTTING HIM IN HIS PLACE! Which was to say, beneath Dave Strider. And, well... He topped because this bulgelicker of a troll had such little control of his compulsive functions. And even then, Terezi was there to hold the damaging talons away from him, often tying the indigoblood to a sturdy bed post, I-beam, or the like. Generally where ever their trysts took them. Dave had come away once with bruises and cracked ribs from having Gamzee's legs too tightly around his waist once but enjoyed their animalistic coupling far too much at the time to notice. In fact, he still carried faint markings of bruises on his shoulder and hip from a more recent venture in the boudoir. This - Makara scrapping long nails inside his thighs and back and buttocks and neck - was NOT supposed to happen. "what's wRONG MOTherfuckER?" he hissed along Dave's neck and cheek, oily face paint smearing into pale hair and paler skin as he leaned over the defenseless human. Dave shuddered with his whole body as he realized just how fucked he had to be. Was going to be... "You, ya fucker, are the issue, the one with the brain damaged tissues." Dave squirmed now, trying to get his legs free of the now-not-so-gently-latched leather bands across his knees. Hiding in Rap would only get him so far in this instance and he had to be careful with the crazy sonnuvabitch that was now gripping his ass in long-fingers hands with claws scratching and scraping his skin in a horrifyingly pleasant way. He was NOT getting turned by this. He. Was. NOT. Makara chuckled deviously, licking along Dave's neck and then blowing along the faintly indigo trail left there. "I MIGHT BElieve that if i didn't SMELL YOU ALL up and enjoying this," he purred into the shell of Dave's ear. He flexed and palmed his hands on the succulent globes called Dave Strider's Ass, a finger or two delving further down to nudge the velvet soft taint and scrotum. "AND A MOTHERFUCKER LIKE me wants to make sure I GET MY CHANCE TO TASTE a Striderbro all up in here." Dave growled almost as deeply as a troll, shaking himself to try and dislodge the taller and heavier figure weighing him down with little success. Gamzee lifted one hand away, swatting Dave's ass cheek and causing the blond to yelp. "The FUCK, man? Ya gonna get ya spank on? What the FUCK is with that? What do I have to pawn?" he yelped, the thick, aroused chuckle of the male behind him making him warm all over even as he turned to glare at the ass-molesting fuck- wit with all the heat of the GREEN SUN. "Quit that shit!" He got another smack and squeaked - he did no such thing, Striders do NOT squeak, gogdamnit - causing even more humor to be loosed from his crazed "jailer" in guffaws and chuckles. "maybe, motherFUCKER. I LIKE to here you scream at and with ME, BUT what if i made you SCREAM FOR ME?" Dave struggled more, futile as it was, to try and at least get from under the damned-fucked-in-the-head-brain-damaged-genetic-material-swigging-bone-bulge- sucking-bucket-eating-horse-sodomizing-cock-whoring-nook-licking-cum-guzzling- gutter-slut of aTROLL...   Gamzee smacked him again for his efforts, his hand soon massaging the sting that gave way to the heat of the experience. Dave bit his lip, eyes going slightly unfocused. FUCK...He hadn't realized how strong his own masochistic tendencies were before now - not like this - and came to the conclusion he was only as masochistic as he was sadistic. The rumbling of a chest deep purr against his ass, though, startled him enough to clear up any hazed out arousal-type issues. "THA FUCK ARE YA DOIN', MAKARA!?" There was a pause, the purr dieing down before returning full force as the troll firmly gripped both bum cheeks and pulled them apart. Dave felt a snarl lodge firmly in his chest and break out only to turn ridiculously into a low throaty moan the likes of which he had never even known he could hit only moments later. Red suffused his face entirely, dipping down to his chest and upper back like a red flag of admittance. FUCK! Makara was fucking LICKING his ASS, And Dave LIKED IT. He'd seen it done in porn, had even helped Egbert find stuff on the intra-web data-base, but having done it himself to someone else? Or having it done to HIM? FUCK. NO. Though trying to find the words to bite out at the ass-licker (something he needed to add to his litany of rants now, it would seem) was difficult when he couldn't breathe deep enough to say anything. He was already panting, the shock of the actions from his Kismesis freaking him out and apparently turning him on so hard he was this close to fucking coming without even having the troll touch him. He pushed down into the pillow, trying to get enough friction to finish quickly and hopefully have his life at the end. Then hands were jerking him up, ass as high in the air as it could go on his knees and a warning growl vibrating along his sphincter and ass in a way that went down his spine and straight to his cock all at once. He wasn't sure when the ringing in his ears started, but the snarled "Don't fucking move, motherfuker" against him was enough to force a high whine from his throat before he clamped down on it viciously. He might be spread under the troll unwillingly, getting rimmed and tongued like some whore under the ULTIMATE HEDONISTIC SEX GOD, but he would be DAMNED before he gave in that easily. Hell, he wouldn't give in at all if he had his way. Let the "games" begin. ***** Chapter 3 ***** Chapter Summary TRIGGER WARNINGS! (I'll update the tags in a mo.) Blooding and biting and mentions of piercing. ALSO mild insinuation of BREATH PLAY! PLEASE BE WARNED! Chapter Notes It took a while to get out because, yeah, I'm not always in the mood for violence with my sex feels. Tonight I feel violent. I think it might be because someone threatened one of my own. Going to go plot vicious (and completely unrealistic) plots of vengence. -3- Or I'll just write more angry sex. That works too. There was a swipe, a long cool lick, not unlike tepid water across his ass, then the insistent press of tongue and lips and hints of horrifyingly sharp needle teeth against his sphincter and FUCK, damn you MAKARA, NO. "Dude, I fucking say NO! That means to let a girl go, bitch!" There was a stabbing pinch on his thigh, one that made him grit his teeth and clench his fists. One that had his cock jumping like a pogo stick. Another that snuck around to his nipple and prying a deep whimpering groan out of his throat as it was twisted and pulled. A vibrating chuckle tickled his ass and made him thump fists down. When Gamzee pulled away, Dave tried to scoot away, as stupid as it was. He was desperately hoping his flash stepping would let him crawl his sorry nude ass out of this fucking bullshit and into a safety net of some sort (John was a good safety net or Terezi or even Karckles and little annoying shit). The hands on his hips, baring down and wrapping one steel cable arm around his middle made sure this was very much not an option, fucking dammit. "MOTHERFucker, you ain't goin' nO WHERE," he muttered in a rumbling sexual assault that should and probably WAS illegal as he bowed over Dave's back, mouth against his shoulder, his neck, grease paint that smeared and slicked across his back and would be an absolute bitch to wash off unless he could convince his pale romance to help and right now she owed him like you wouldn't believe andwhy was he thinking about this right now? Teeth of piranha were working against his skin and probably leaving fucking holes with as bad as it hurt (hurt like sex and felt like yes) and peircing his flesh, only where were the pretty bling bits that he was going to insert? There was no other reason to be putting all those holes in his body.  "Fucking sonnuvabitch, clown! I am not a chew toy!"  And there was that chuckle that made his body shiver a little. Fuck, that was unfair. And his cock, fuck, it was throbbing and he was close to getting off completely and the fucker was probably aware and grabbed his dick at the base and held on, making him whine - he did not, he couldn't, that was giving up - and squirm.  "but you taste," lick and suck and breathing cool, so cool against hot human flesh, "DELICIOUS, bro. RED that turns RUST, it is different and like nothing else. HOT copper," lick, "and SUN," bite and lick, "and something not unlike DEATH." He sucked a previous bite, tonguing the wounds for more blood. Dave made some undefined noise, ripping out of his throat that spoke of dark and sensual things.  "Fucking blood sucker!" the human teen snarled - choked and half-hearted and thready with need and want - as he thrashed under the weight of the troll.  There was a harsh smack, and then another, hard and solid and not really loud but the sting was annoyingly persistent.  "human boy, prETTY PALE LUSUS WHITE, I'M GOnna make you like it," Makara taunted, one finger pressing along Dave's taint, sliding dry up to his anus, nail scratching and poking and insidious in its portent of danger to come. The blond shivered, stiffening as sounds bubbled under his breast bone and made his breath hitch. Spidery fingers flowed up his ass, around his hips, up his sides to his shoulders. Then there was something, wiggling and cool and wet, against his ass and crack and seeking and he knew what that was. He might have protested had the fucker not wrapped a hand around his neck, no pressure but sure threat and horror and desire in the very thumping pulse against his cheek and jaw as the tip of his alien dick found and started to slip in.  ***** Chapter 4 ***** Only thing was, it apparently wasn't his dick, it was his tongue and holy mother of spinoffs that was long and dexteritous and ffffffffffuuuuuuuuuuck... Dave felt his body jolt, body gasping without permission and cock dripping like niagra falls without actually coming, but he was ready, so ready. So very, very ready, okay? The unaccounted for hand came around, grabbing the base of his dick and squeezing and it probably would hurt like motherfuck and make him wilt like a picked daisy had not that tongue worked all the way in and fucking made him loose a good portion of his mind. Live and wiggling and around the rim and in his ass and he was whimpering, fuck, he was whimpering and starting to moan and this was not cool, it so was NOT COOL, but that's okay, he was getting the best sex he had ever had in his life because he had just discovered he liked being rimmed so thoroughly that he would never be able to sit down again without imagining a tongue in his ass. Ever again. Ever, ever again.  He wiggled and squirmed and thrashed now for completely different reasons. Makara was humming a song into his ass cheeks, grease paint slathing over the pale white and blending in for the most part and that hum was thrumming into his hole with the vengence of morality come to call with a boom stick.  And he suffered because he wanted to cum, wanted to so badly and he couldn't, there were vise like fingers curled around his dick and holding him back.  "FUCK ME, MAKARA!" he managed in a full out rage-scream, kicking his feet as best he could and slapping his hands into the mattress. A hard hand came up and slapped his ass, releasing his throat and making him silently miss the feel of cherished hatred. Oh. Oh no. Oh fuck no.  He was not a Stockholm Syndrome participant. He was not falling for the murder clown. At least, not in love. In HATE, however, yeah, he was cruising deeper into the "I would rather fuck you because you're pretty good than cull you, but only barely" wilderness, something humans generally didn't do. He was and it was making him vicious. He wanted that hand back on his neck, he wanted it close enough he could turn his head and bite the shit out of the clown and make him bleed. He wanted. So much it hurt, in fact.  "Let go of my dick and let me cum," he hissed darkly, red eyes looking over his shoulder and receiving another slap, then another and another, over and over on his ass until his cheek was sore and he was biting the bed under him to stifle the screams.  And all through this, all through the punishment, he was being devoured. Mouth sucking and teeth scraping and biting gently and tongue flipping inside his ass and making him flinch and squeeze and shove back. His signals were so mixed, he wasn't sure it was a good thing or not. He did know that when he was through, when this was over and he was still alive, he was going to tie the fucker to a set of I-beams and make him beg. Because, as it was, Dave was this close to doing that himself and no one - not anyone - made a Strider beg.  Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!