Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/988395.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Jane_Crocker/Dirk_Strider, Jane_Crocker_&_Dirk_Strider
  Character:
      Jane_Crocker, Dirk_Strider
  Additional Tags:
      Creampie, Homestuck_Kink_Meme, Community:_homesmut
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-10-02 Words: 1317
****** Expectations ******
by gabbubabbu
Summary
     Dirk's been asked to perform a very invasive, and personal task for
     Jane, who is at her wit's end for something more than what she has.
Notes
     Homestuck Kink Meme Filler.
     http://homesmut.dreamwidth.org/39716.html?replyto=43798820
     I really enjoyed writing this, this pairing is one of my favorite
     overall and I can not only appreciate them for the fandom silliness
     and romance they get into, but becuse they also have such a wonderful
     friendship, which is always important to portray in fics of this
     nature.
It starts off the same as any other encounter you two have.
Sick of the same old game and love, you both thought it would be a better
option to just stay friends, but stay open about it. You're doing this for her,
you tell yourself. You're doing this because she doesn't really have any other
option. You're her best friend and she wants this so badly and she's willing to
front the bill for everything, she even offered to pay you, but that felt too
much like illegal practice so you told her you would do it on the condition
she'd make as many chocolate lava cakes as you could eat. Of course, hopefully,
she'd only be doing that for so long.
Jane was barely a year younger than you. She was the heiress to the most
profitable company that produced Bake-ware and goods in the entire world. She
was set for life, but she would still have to run the company. She was still in
high school. She had her entire life ahead of her. Why would she want to have a
kid when she had such a bright future? More importantly, what would her Dad
say?
It was brought on by a school assignment on parenting, in her health class,
she'd said. Told him about how right it felt even though it was just a bag of
flour. She would hold that thing for hours, treating it like a real infant in
the privacy of her room, making sure no one saw her. She passed that project,
and when the flour was gone, the emptiness set in. That's why she was here,
now, laying in your bed in the dim light with everything but her underwear on.
It's not that you didn't like girls. You love girls. You love Jane. But it was
almost tangible how nervous you were, even more so the fact that you almost
couldn't get it up. She offered to help, and by God if you weren't going to let
her. This was for her, after all. She made a comment about your size that went
straight to your head, literally. Just a few strokes of her palm were enough.
That was too good. Maybe she'd done this just a few more times than what she'd
told you about with Jake. You would never pry though, and as soon as you felt
your head spinning you pushed her hand away and told her to get back on her
back.
The next part was the trickiest. The first thing your head jumped to was 'Get a
condom,' but then you remembered what you were here for. You slapped yourself
mentally. You'd never gone without one in your endeavors. Habit was habit. She
had her head laid down on the pillows where you slept every night, the lights
were turned out and it was dark, save for the sun coming in from your window.
That light barely danced across the foot of the bed, and you thought you'd like
to keep it that way. She wanted the lights out, and that was just fine.
You ask her, one last time if she's sure. And she grabs your arm and tells you,
one last time, she's never been more sure in her life. She wants this, badly.
So you let out a sigh and grab her knees and spread them apart- and she's got a
gorgeous view. She catches you staring for a moment behind your shades and
calls your name, and when you look back up to her face she's flushed. You
instantly feel horrible and slap yourself, again, mentally. This isn't for you.
You pull yourself forwards and push the waist down on your jeans a bit farther,
kneeling between her bent legs and holding yourself at base- good God she's
warm- and pushing your hips forwards- you can feel the dampness already on the
head of your cock- and carefully, slowly sliding inside of her.
You've never had sex without a condom. Now you're starting to regret that,
because inside it's warm and wet and you could just curl up and stay there
forever because of how tight she's squeezing right now- Brain you slaps you
back again. For her, not for you. She makes another comment about your size and
feel yourself throb inside of her, squeezing your hips forwards another few
inches to bottom out in her. You glance back up at her face and her eyes are
screwed shut, front teeth over her bottom lip. You ask her if she's okay.
She says she's fine. 'Please, keep going.' Who are you to deny a request like
that?
The outstroke is as equally delicious as the instroke and you find yourself
keeling over, holding onto her hips as you find a rhythm in your head and
follow it, muttering curses under your breath. You look back up at her and
honestly you feel like you should kiss her or something, she's just so damn
pretty like this. You almost want to ask her, but she makes a little whimper
and covers her mouth with the back of her hand and you feel it go from your ear
drum all the way down to your balls. You swallow hard and pick the pace up a
bit, looking at her face from behind your dark shades and hoping she makes that
noise again.
When she does your hands grab onto the sheets by her hips and push her skirt up
farther, the bed creaking under the motion of the two of you. It feels like
it's been hours and it's only been a few minutes. You lean over and ask if you
can touch her, and she holds onto your shoulder with one hand and nods. She's
just fine with that. You don't push up her shirt, but your hand snakes
underneath the fabric and your palm finds her breast and you knead with your
fingers, panting.
She's making that noise again, her hands on your shoulders now. You tell her
it's okay, she can be loud if she wants to, and she just shakes her head. The
hand under her shirt moves down between her legs and your thumb searches for
her clit between her pink folds and you figure you found it when she squeezes
her legs in on you. You sit back up and push your hips forward and rock back,
one hand holding down her leg and the other hand at her clit, rubbing circles
and she's definitely not being quiet anymore, she's just letting the small
whimpers roll out and her face is red and she's so fucking cute.
Your head is swimming and you can feel pressure on your navel and your hips
buck forwards harder than they had been, your fingers digging into her knee and
Jane grabs onto your shirt and pushes her hips up and then your mind goes white
and all you can feel is how utterly tight she's squeezing and your ears are
ringing and it's so damn hot and wet. Once the ringing passes and you hang your
head low, glancing up at your friend over the top of your sunglasses. She's
panting and red in the face and shaking. You can't help but chuckle and lean
down, plant your lips on her forehead for a second before slowly slipping out
of the tight confines that is Jane Crocker.
You ask her if she's alright and it takes her a minute, but she nods and opens
her eyes, then wraps her arms around your shoulders. You can't help but do the
same, wrapping your arms around her soft waist and pulling her onto her side,
letting her rest her head on your shoulder.
In the back of your head you're hoping that that did the trick. On the other
side, you're hoping you get to do this again.
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