Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1228990.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      Multi
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Dirk_Strider/Bro_Strider, Jane_Crocker/Jake_English/Roxy_Lalonde/Dirk
      Strider, Jake_English/Dirk_Strider, Jake_English/Jane_Crocker, Jake
      English/Roxy_Lalonde, Jake_English/Bro_Strider, Dirk_Strider/Jane
      Crocker/Roxy_Lalonde, Jake_English/Jane_Crocker/Roxy_Lalonde, Jane
      Crocker/Roxy_Lalonde, it's_an_orgy_okay
  Character:
      Dirk_Strider, Jake_English, Jane_Crocker, Roxy_Lalonde, Beta_Bro_Strider
  Additional Tags:
      Tricksters, there_is_noncon, sort_of_becomes_dubcon, lots_of_Tricksters
      doing_the_diddly, Slurs, Corruption_of_character_and_shit, Chapters_are
      being_Redone
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-02-27 Updated: 2014-09-07 Chapters: 6/? Words: 4733
****** An Unexpected Guest ******
by Kentrakshi_(Sartorially)
Summary
     THIS WORK IS BEING REWRITTEN. DON'T EVEN PEEK, MAN. EYE BLEEDING
     AIN'T MY KINK.
     The whispers in his mind were lying, he knew that. He knew that the
     giggling and the sugar rushing through his veins with every kiss was
     nothing more than a falsehood.
     But God, that didn't prevent it from feeling so damn good.
Notes
     Second time's the charm. Definitely want to thank everyone who liked
     the previous batch, because I think you'll like this one even more.
     (None of the new chapters are up yet, thank you for your patience!)
     I'd also like to state that GODDAMN I love Tricksters because it's
     like. Artistic license to completely destroy a character. HELL YEAH.
***** Coming In *****
Chapter by Sartorially
The first thought in Dirk's head when all this went down was quite simple. To
be completely honest and blunt, when he turned and saw the floating forms of
three candy-coated freaks-of-nature, the word in his vibrantly working mind was
fuck.
He had been quick. He'd been able to duck and dodge and escape. Now, however,
he was locked in his fucking apartment. His bedroom was the last stronghold, a
barrier between the loud giggling of his friends. The question arose, though.
Were they even his friends any longer? Smiling so wide that their faces might
break, their eyes swirling and bright and so not fucking right. Dirk may not
understand why the hell they were surrounding his apartment, why they looked
like that, seemed wrong, made his skin fucking crawl.
All he knew was that it was only a matter of time before they found a way
inside.
His friends-turned-neon-freaks were in the hallway. He couldn't tell what they
were meaning to do. But, by the sound of their screams and those fucking
horribly twisted giggles, it couldn't be something that he wanted a part of. He
kept seeing their eyes. Bright, alive, and yet so dead. Something was horribly
wrong. So sickeningly wrong that it reached into his stomach and ripped out the
bottom so all his dread could flood out into his toes. It just fucking figured
that he'd left his katana up on the roof. There was no escape. Out the door and
down the hall, where laughing candy-bedazzled shadows of his friends lurked? Or
out the window and plunging to his death, if the deadly fumes didn't get to him
first? There was one truth to all this.
Dirk Strider was utterly and royally fucked.
He could hear them again. They were hovering outside his door, he could tell,
or hanging out in his living room to touch and turn things to candy-crazy-
versions of themselves for laughs like some kind of twisted tripart Midas.
Asking him why he didn't want to be happy. Asking him to come out and play
because he was thinking too much. Oh, he needed to lighten up, lighten up, come
out and have fun! But Dirk knew. This wasn't happiness. This was something
wrong and so utterly vicious in nature that he couldn't bring himself to even
begin puzzling it out. So, here he sat, waiting for the inevitable. Either they
forced in from the window, or they bashed down the door.
With nothing to use as a weapon - not even one of those shitty Santa hats -
Dirk pressed into one corner of his room and watched the door with bated
breath.
More like anxious breath.
...More like sweet Lord this is the end for mebreath.
And, then.
There was a new sound now. Their laughter was still present, but something was
drowning it out. Deeper, louder, sounding out over his friends' complaints
about how Dirk is just so mean! It was followed up by the thump, thump,
thumping of heavy steps down the hall, the thump, thump, thump of approach.
Closer, the deep laughter got. Closer and closer and closer, here it comes.
God, it was fucking terrifying, because Dirk no fucking idea who it was or what
they might do.
The footsteps stopped outside the door. There's a bang.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
There's a dent in the door, another, another, another.
Bang, bang, bang.
"Let me in, Dirky!"
Thump-THUMP! The door trembled and shook, and it was obviously there was
someone on the other side, hammering on the wood with that terrifying laughter.
Bang, bang, BANG! There's yet another dent in the door - the shape of a large
foot, maybe. It's buckling and caving in. There's nothing to protect Dirk now.
This was it. This was the end. He pushed himself to his feet, trembling almost
violently. He wasn't going down on the floor. He was going down fighting.
"Let me in, let me in, let me in!"
Who the fuck was it? The answer was given when the door finally crumpled, and
the huge man in shockingly bright orange and violet. From the intensely purple
shades to the bottoms of his checkered jeans. The polo shirt, striped in yellow
and purple, along with the Reese's cup adhered to the toxicly orange hat that
seemed to be leaking crumbs everywhere. Sweet Lord, that lopsided grin seemed
to stretch all the way up to his left ear, and then all the way around his
head.
"I'm INSIDE, Dirky!"
...
...Oh, God help him now.
***** Seeping In *****
Chapter by Sartorially
Chapter Summary
     "Please, no. No, don't. Don't touch me like that. I don't want your
     'happiness'! I don't want it!"
     But he didn't listen, and Dirk didn't escape.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Shit, there's more of them.
Dirk shifted into a defensive position automatically, fists coming up to shield
his slim jaw, elbows tucked in expertly. He bounced just a little on the balls
of his feet. He was ready. He could take it. He was strong enough to manage a
fight. (No, you can't, his mind pointed out unhelpfully. Did you see what he
did to the fucking door? Well, yeah, brain, I think I fucking saw it.) But now
was not the time to yell at himself mentally. He glanced to the window again.
Out there, a few moments of freedom. Moments before he slammed into the ground,
or suffocated on unbreathable air.
Fucking damn it.
"Who the hell are you?" he demanded, fingernails biting into his gloved palms.
He'd been expecting Jake. Roxy, maybe? Jane, if the other two had gotten bored
of bothering him. Not whoever this tall stranger was, with his blindingly neon
shirt (shades just like Dirk's?) and his hat. "Get the hell out, I'm not
fucking afraid to fight you! You can't fucking make me change." But he knew.
Dirk knew that the man could make him change. They both knew it, probably.
There was no way that his friends had just managed to go candy-crazy all at
once. It was a contagious thing, which meant that he may already be doomed. But
fuck, he didn't know. He was fucked. He was so fucking fucked. How much contact
was required to begin the change? He didn't know, didn't fucking care, because
he didn't want it. He didn't want this insanity! His face blanched under his
wide-spread freckles, shoulder blades pressing against the corner that was his
final refuge while he stared at the man looming among the shattered remains of
the teen's door. Even if he could've mustered the strength to run, he would
only manage to skid into the dangerous embrace of his friends.
"Who are you?" he demanded once more, fingers scrabbling against the wall
weakly.
Heavy steps bring him closer, closer, closer, with orange-and-purple gloves
adorning his hands while he reached out. He was grasping at the air, the grin
so insanely wrong. When Dirk threw a punch, the man caught it with ease, long
fingers curling around the blonde's much-smaller-in-comparison fist. A grip on
both wrists, a hot shackle of flesh with all the strength in the world. Even if
Dirk hadn't been scared fucking shitless, there would have been no way for him
to escape that grip, that immensely powerful hold. The man leaned in, further
and further and further, eyes obscured but gaze hotter than fire nonetheless.
His query seems far too loud, given their closeness, "Don't you know me???"
HEE HEE HOO HOO HAA HAA!!!
The hand not occupied with holding the backs of Dirk's hand rather forcefully
against the wall (this guy was a fucking tank) moved to grip his jaw tightly.
There's a creak deep within Dirk's bones, dragging him in for a kiss of
bruising kiss. A smirk, a smile that stretched further than the one preceding
it (but how?!) and laughing once more.
"I'm big, you're small."
HEE HEE!!!
"You're me, I'm you, and we're each other!"
HAA HAA HOO HOO!!!
"Soon you're gonna be so fuckin' happy! Happy just like everyone else!"
Dirk thrashed under the grip of the bigger man, fighting with everything he had
to try and free himself, but there wasn't much he could do against that almost
(more like down right) unnatural strength. He could see bright, manic eyes
under the (fogged with hot breath) shades, eyes that were his exact shade of
orange and he didn't want to think about what that meant. Was this him from the
future, come back to make sure he changed? It didn't make any sense.
None of it made fucking sense. This game, their mission, and least of all this
nutsy Hell that was something out of his childhood nightmares.
The larger man pulled him into that kiss, and he found himself loathing the
portion that sparked with sugary sweetness. Distant, dulled, not quite real.
But it spread. It crawled and gripped and ripped and tripped through his veins
like a (sugar) high. No. No, no, no, no, he wasn't going to fucking give in!
"It's not happiness!" Dirk argued, thrashing a little, trying to get his
trembling legs into the field of action, "It's fucked up! It's twisted, wrong,
sickening. I'd rather fucking die. You can't make me change! I don't want it! I
won't let you!" His feet finally shifted, toes swiping at the air uselessly.
Eyes averting from the man that he refused to acknowledge his likeness to, he
could hear the distinct laughter, deep in the base of his skull. The air was
starting to smell odd, but no. No, no, no, no, fight! Fight, Dirk. You're a
goddamn Strider. They can't tear you down. You are a fucking pillar, impervious
and great. "Put me down, you psychopath!"
But the man didn't listen.
The man didn't care.
The man only smiled, and whispered.
"Nope, no, nuh-uh. Not gonna, not gonna, not gonna."
Lower still he whispered, threatening and deep; and, a part of him had to
admit, sexy as all hell.
"You're gonna be so happy, Dirky."
Chapter End Notes
     *bloops unhelpfully*
     More to come. Hm.
     (I like Bro being strong enough to slice meteors in half. That is
     canon, and I think that's amazing.)
     (It also means that he can do crazy shit like rip off clothing.)
     #spoilers for what is coming
***** Leaking In *****
Chapter by Sartorially
Chapter Summary
     Why had he said meanie?
     He'd normally say jackass. Asshole, fuckwad, dipshit.
     Why had he-
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The hand at Dirk's wrists is so strong, and seeming to radiate all kinds of
heat. It seeped into his fingers, spread down his arms and had him wanting just
a little more contact because he was so fucking used to being cold, and now.
Now someone was here, warm and willing to touch him. It was just. It was
perfect, and he found he really enjoyed it. It was perfect, perfect, perfect.
Except it wasn't.
What was he thinking?
One of those threatening hands was sliding up beneath Dirk's tank top, blunt
nails dragging over his flesh ever so slowly. The younger of the two males was
trapped. He had no where to go. No escape plan. No where to flee to. And the
man didn't dare stop, didn't have any plans to stop. His rough thumb slid over
one of Dirk's nipples, and he hissed at himself, furious at the little spark of
arousal.
Lips are pressing against his, harsh and demanding, coaxing him to open his
mouth up. Dirk, of course, brought his teeth down with a vengeance, watching
the brightly colored man pull back. Blood trickled down his chin, deep laughter
huffing out between wet lips as he lapped at his wound. Once his tongue swiped
over it, it was gone, and one large knee was forcing itself between Dirk's
legs. There's not a pause, not a moment of consideration for what Dirk may
want. It's all force, all pushing to give him more, to force the sweetness to
devour him. The laughter began again, echoing out of that massive chest and
just tearing down Dirk's mental walls.
Everywhere, everywhere, everywhere.
HEE HEE HEE!!!
"You're gonna love it, Dirky," he assured, "You're gonna love it and wantit so
bed."
God, he was so hard to focus. So hard to try and make sense of it all, because
he didn't know what to think, what to expect. Biting down on those offending
lips had been a mistake, because the sharp taste of blood wasn't there. It was
a harsh, sugary rush that flooded his mouth, arched over his tongue, thickened
the fog within his mind. He was startled, unprepared, and so, when that knee
pushed up between his legs, he found a laugh startle out of him.
It took him a moment to fucking realize what he'd just done.
No! No, focus, Dirk, fight it. You're Dirk Strider.
Fight it.
"I'm not gonna - shit - love it."
He didn't sound convincing at all. So, he drew a breath, arched his hips up and
out of the way, trying again.
"I'm not going to be happy. I don't. I don't want this fucked up-" He wasn't
even sure what he was going to say now. It was getting hard to remember why he
was still struggling, especially when he looked into the eyes of his older
self, his bigger, more powerful self. Those bright eyes... He could practically
see the spirals within them, dancing and swirling. Entrancing. Enticing. He
tried again, but he was so weak. He didn't. He couldn't.
"Get off..."
The man's grin wiiidened, how in the name of anything that was holy did he do
that, chattering out a response, "You can't make me, Dirky."
Then, his recently healed lips moved to Dirk's throat, working against pale,
freckled flesh. Teeth came into play, scraping over his pulse harshly before
soothing the momentary skin with a warm, broad tongue. That knee wasn't letting
up. Instead, he was rocking faster, smoother, sliding against Dirk's clothed
cock, which twitched in response to all the attention.
Fight it. Fight it. Fight it.
He paused for a moment, sliding his hand out from under Dirk's top, and then
gripping at the collar. A little cackle of a giggle was the only warning that
the younger male received, and then that hand is coming down and out with a
RIIIP. The fabric was no more, torn off cleanly, fingers slipping over his
nipples without any barrier between his gaze and Dirk's chest. Then, it's
nails, raking over flesh and drawing thin red lines over smooth skin.
HOO HOO HOO HOO!!!!
"I know you love it, Dirky. Love it, love it, love it."
This wasn't right at all, in any way. And yet.
Dirk was slowly becoming a prisoner in his own mind, watching it warp out of
alignment and slid out from under him like the proverbial rug. The smell of the
sugary air was sickeningly heavy, getting stronger and stronger and stronger.
His hips bucked against the encroaching thigh, legs kicking out in his effort.
A little laugh, a giggle, bubbled up when his own thigh came in contact with
the harsh lump in the other man's tight pants. His chest bared, hitching with
little snickers and wiggles. That was funny! That was so funny. He wasn't
really sure why, though. Everything was funny!
No. No, nothing about this was fucking funny. He was. He didn't want.
HEE HEE HEE!!!
He was laughing, and, for once, in his miserable life, he felt good. He felt
good, he smiled, he liked himself. And.
And he hatedit. His very core was twisting, wild and out of control. He'd never
been out of control before. He'd never allowed it before. He was warping,
changing, sickening himself without his own permission.
And that sick, sick, sick portion of him loved it.
"I like it, I love it," Dirk parroted back, squirming at the introduction of
nails to his soft flesh, "Ow, that hurts, you meanie!"
...
What?
Why had he said meanie? He'd normally say jackass. Asshole, fuckwad, dipshit.
Why had he- And the train of of thought was derailed. The locomotive slopped of
the tracks, which were promptly bombed and raked out of the ground with all
sorts of destructive things. It wasn't completed, because there was a rush of
sugar high, ringing in the very back of his head. Shit. "I do love it, but you
don't have to be so mean." His voice sounded odd. Too... happy.
It wasn't him.
It wasn't the same as it was before, monotonous and soft-spoken and controlled.
Oh, God, it felt so... good.
Chapter End Notes
     Riiip.
     Still more to come.
***** Scraping In *****
Chapter by Sartorially
Chapter Summary
     Babies!!!
     Babies, babies, babies, they had to make a million babies! A zillion
     babies! A bazillion!!!!!
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
It was getting harder to breath, because every escape of breath meant another
wave of shaking, squealing giggles. His mind was a fog, no longer bound up
nicely within his tall walls and fortified barriers. Everything was layering on
top of itself, branching out into the fog to soak up every fraction of this
heated madness. As he squirmed about, his hips bearing down on the knee still
jammed between his thighs, he noted briefly that the pale bangs, flopping into
his eyes, were darkening. Reddening, turning a furious crimson that reminded
him, oddly enough, of Ronald McDonald.
"Oopsy!" was the response to his brief unhappiness. The powerful grip on his
wrists was released, the man's head slowly lowering so his lips could trail
over the scratches he'd left behind on the other's chest, lapping at the lines
of blood that dared to well up. Kiss, kiss, kiss, and then teeth was dragging
against ruined flesh. That big knee was still working against his too-tight
pants, and then it wasn't.
Those violet-gloved hands were at the front of Dirk's jeans, palming, fumbling
until...
RIIII-P!!!!
Torn clean in two, thrown to opposite sides. Those huge hips were rocking
forward again, letting the younger feel just how hard the man was inside his
own bottoms. They kissed, tongue sliding together with minimal coaxing as they
moaned, rocked, shivered out gasps while saliva dribbled down their chins. Dirk
was so sweet; his attacker seemingly unable to get enough. They didn't care
about the mess, hips rocking, grinding, rolling, pushing.
That's when the man began speaking again, panting in between their kisses and
tongue-lashing, "Wanna fuck you, Dirky. It makes you feel so good! Makes you
forget everything, and feel happy. Happier than anything! And it's gonna fill
you up. All up, with babies."
HEE HEE HEE!!!
Babies?
What the hell?
What was he on about? They couldn't have babies. It was biologically impossible
for that kind of shit to go down! They-
"Babies!" Dirk caught himself chirping, happier and louder than a way too
fucking happy seagull. His voice was still distorted, dragged through a sound
filter and coated in rainbow sprinkles. "Babies, babies, babies; let's make a
million babies! A zillion babies!"
What was happening? Every portion of his brain seemed to be shutting down, the
thought processes derailed and trampled over with this contagious sugar rush.
All that seemed to be left was the little corner in the depths of his mind,
trying to cling to reality, to sanity, to the fear that was encroaching his
entirety. But that corner of him knew it was losing and that made it all even
worse. The other man was hard, grinding against Dirk so insistently, and he
knew where this was going. He knew what was going to happen, but even the bit
of him that dared to cling to sanity was too doped up on Trickster sweetness to
fucking care.
As he suckled on the man's tongue like a fine piece of hard candy, color began
splotching over his gloves. It was the only bit of his clothing that he was
still wearing, really, so he had no idea what was happening to the rest of his
clothing.
No, cried the last part of Dirk Strider, begged, pleaded. This was wrong. It
was twisted, it was sick, it was a horrible dream and wanted to wake up and get
away from it all. He wanted to escape the fear that was melting away and
becoming something that he didn't want to face. He didn't want to be happy, not
like this. He didn't want to give up his sense of self and lose everything to
these overwhelming feelings.
But the rest of him didn't care. Couldn't care.
His fingers slid over broad shoulders almost reverently, giggles sneaking out
of him. He felt so good. He was happy, he was laughing, he was pushing his
fingers up against the bulging in the man's pants. The world was bright and
multicolored and so, so, so, so perfect now. "Let's make BABIES!" Hips rolling
forward, hands pushing and pressing and fondling against the big lump that he
wanted, needed, yearned for.
"Let's do it!"
The larger version of Dirk was grinning wide, wide, wide, now that he knew just
how ready the younger was to make babies. Bending nearly double to get an arm
around the smaller, he hefted Dirk onto his shoulder with ease and took heavy
steps towards the bed. The owner of said furniture was thrown down, his head
crushed among pillows when lips bore down against his with enough force to
bruise. Then, he pulled back, stood and his fingers gripped...
RIIIIP!!!
Taut and toned flesh, riddled with scars and rippling as muscles shifted
underneath his skin. It was enough to induce a hunger in Dirk that spread
through every fiber of his being. The hairs at the back of his neck tingled,
fingers coming up to curl and grab at air because he wanted the man right now,
right away, right this fucking second. The bigger Dirk answered his little
grabby hands quickly, looming above him and shoving his thighs into the air.
Dirk's knees pressed against his shoulders, and he giggled, wheezed, grinned so
hard that it physically hurt.
And then, to make up for that, he grinned even more.
HEE HEE HEE!!!!
The laughter echoed and blossomed and flooded the universe.
HEE HEE HEE!!!!!!!
There was no going back now.
Chapter End Notes
     porn just chapter i swear it
***** Flooding In *****
Chapter by Sartorially
Chapter Summary
     "I don't wanna wait!"
     "I wanna make a baby right now!!!!"
     "Make a baby in me. Let's fuck, fuck, fuuuuck until we make the best
     babies!!!!!!"
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Dirk was on board the Baby-Making Express, and it was on a one-stop ride to
Dickingville.
The larger man's hands were hot, hot, hot on his flesh, burning into his skin
and daring to mark him with their bruising grip. Forcing Dirk's knees to press
against his shoulders, a tongue that branded into him like a white-hot flame.
The wet muscle dragged over his inner thighs, dipping down against the pucker
of his anus and wedging into tight flesh for the beginnings of a rimming.
However, it didn't last, and Dirk whined under his breath when there was a
pressure at his balls, and gentle suction with lips wrapped around his sac. He
kissed and pressed and now moving to bite down on one of Dirk's plush cheeks.
He chuckled against the young Strider's body, sucking a hickey into being.
For the succumbing teen, it was like something was being poured into him.
Was it honey? Was it caramel? It didn't matter either way. It didn't matter at
all, because the sensation was pouring in from his toes, and filling him up
with a natural sort of feeling. If it weren't for the way he wanted to scream
and escape, it would probably feel pretty damn nice.
That was the problem, though.
It felt nice.
It felt wonderful.
He had to tilt his head forward, chin against his chest so he could see clearly
the ravagings that he was being subjected to. It was enough to get a twitch,
and another, out of his dick, hard and throbbing against his belly. The sight
was arousing, maddening, something that he couldn't help but become entranced
with. It was too much, the sensations of his senses colliding, driving him to
let his head fall back. With his spine arching in time to breathless little
noises that may have been giggles, he felt the last bits of his sanity and
sense of self fade away in the flow of sugar rush. As it dragged remnants of
Dirk Strider in its wake, he came conclusions that made complete sense.
Everything.
And he meant everything.
Everything was funny!
That other Dirk, all big and intimidating and huge, was funny. His legs all
scrunched up, with his knees jammed up against his shoulders, was funny. That
talented tongue working against his private places was funny, funny, funny! The
suckling and nips and the way he could feel his bruises cropping up? That was
so funny. He practically cackled at the gayety of it all, but that was quickly
cut short with moans of utmost appreciation for the ministrations down under.
And his mind switched from how funny it all was, to how utterly unfair this set
up happened to be. Sure, he felt wonderful and happy and blissful, but he
wanted to touch the big man with his bulging muscles. He wanted to suck all
over his private places and make his giggle because it was fun, fun, fun. Then,
however, teeth dug into his skin, and he screeched out a yowch! That hurt a
bit, but then there was tingling and it...
It was just so funny.
"That's not how you make babies, you dumb-dumb-dummy!" But the giggles bubbled
up, his hands moving between his spread legs to grasp at pointy shades and
throw them somewhere. Of course he already knew that! Big Dirk was all strong
and he was making Dirk feel so good... He just knew, knew, knew they were going
to have the very best babies. The kind that people gave candy to, because candy
was always good and babies were good, and the larger version of Dirk was
pushing his tongue inside the thinner, drawing the most delicious sounds from
him.
Hee, hee, hee!
With the hot, wet tongue pushing into him, his thoughts were scattering with an
abandon matched only by the fervor with which the larger man went at his task.
Pulling back, trailing sticky-sweet drool all over Dirk's left thigh, with his
tongue tickling at his inner knee. Then, he leaned up further, and their lips
met. It was a messy kiss, with all sorts of gasps and pants whenever they had
to pull back for a breath or two.
Then he's leaning back, reaching down to rip off his bottoms. Dirk's mouth
watered at the sight, because he had never, ever seen anything that big in real
life. He was so entranced that he barely heard the man speaking; "We're gonna
have so many babies, Dirky. You're gonna have a million, and we can name they
all something different!" He's rambling, rattling off name's like Juniper and
Roger and Lily.
Well, Dirk didn't have time for that. He wanted to have babies immediately, and
right away, so he shoved with all his might and got the bigger Dirk sprawled on
his back, with the blunt up of his huuuuge dick prodding between his plush
cheeks.
"Dirkyyyy," he whined, though not really looking all that unhappy, "Ya gotta
wait! Babies don't come out instantly."
Before he sank down, Dirk took a moment to ponder, and then respond once he was
sure of it. After all, he remembered his friends, and he knew that they would
be more than happy to make babies. "We're all going have babies! All of us,
with a million, zillion babies that all taste sweet and then we can make more!"
Hee, hee, hee!
Haa, haa,haa!!!!
He had been so unhappy before this big man had come in! Why had he been so
unhappy? Why had he been brooding and thoughtless and so unhappy? All of his
problems could be solved so easily, and yet he'd never thought it through! It
was so simple! All he had to do was make babies with everyone, and they would
all be so happy!!!
Their lips pushed together, with Dirk drinking in all the flavors that were
twisted up and mixed in the man's mouth. Things like peanut butter, and
chocolate, and hazelnut, and was that vanilla? It was so horrible whenever they
had to breathe, and he only got closer, gripping at spiky hair, sans that silly
hat. "I don't wanna wait!" It was a loud cry, punctuated by the careful drag of
his bigger self's cock against his clenching sphincter. "I wanna make a baby
right now!!!!"
Dirk positioned himself, with the blunt head pressing against him teasingly. It
wasn't enough, so he had to make himself clear. Another kiss, and another, with
their chins getting all sticky and his breath coming a bit shorter with the
apprehension.
"Make a baby in me. Let's fuck, fuck, fuuuuck until we make the best
babies!!!!!! And then! And then!!!"
Hoo, hoo, hoo!!!
"Then I get to thank you!" His hips pushed down just a bit.
"For making me so happy!"
Chapter End Notes
     I keep putting off the sex because it's this massive clusterfuck and
     I want it to be good, so have this.
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter by Sartorially
This whole mess it going to be rewritten because I don't like how I put it
together. Expect some new material soon.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!