just what the url says. all the filthy filthy things that don't belong with the memes & meta on my wholesome homestuck blog? they go here. just assume that I ship all the ships and dig all the kinks. yes, even that. adults only.
something came over me last night and i forwent sleep to write alphacest porn. dirk thinks he’s a yandere but is really a tsundere. dave has attachment issues. piss.
Dave shoves you against the kitchen wall, plants one on you for the first time, and startles back as if burned. You grasp his arms, then spin and pin him against the wall with a shove. The air leaves him with a gasp before you seal your mouths together as you shove a hand down his pants. You swallow his attempts to breathe as you jerk him off quickly. He struggles for forty-three seconds—nose pressed firmly against your face—then goes limp. When you break the kiss, he chokes on his inhale and shakes as he ruins his boxers.
read my stridercest drabbles on ao3:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
this is so horny and I have NO excuse. Warnings for uh. Daddy kink? Gunplay? Vampires? I don't even know but if you thought I was off the Dirk/Slick/Droog bullshit you simply must think again.
i guess it is perhaps worth mentioning how this whole thing started, which was:
Ever since Dirk realized the implications of Davesprite's sudden nesting behavior, and did the math on proportionate egg dimensions, he can't stop thinking about it.
He sits on his bed with his biggest dildo in his hands, feeling the heft of it, measuring the girth with both hands—it takes both hands to wrap around the shaft, of course; this is an aspirational sex toy, purchased in a moment of possibly unrealistic optimism regarding his own body’s capacity for silicone dick—and imagines pushing it up inside his sprite bro, slow and steady, and—
He's getting way ahead of himself, here. He knows that.
@nuclearwinternsfw signs point to ‘literally just ask me to talk about it’ lmao. at least, that serves as an effective impetus to get me working on it again (i have resumed poking at every wip ive been asked about so far), and in theory working on it should eventually result in it being finished…. right?
anyway now im thinking again about how to incorporate eggs. still funny to me that the origin of that jam was ‘easters coming, we should write some ovi’ and 7k+ words later there are still no eggs or discussion thereof in the fic
i still really like the idea of them doing something with ceramic eggs, like. i mean. Dirk is a Problem Solver by disposition, right, in addition to his general obsessiveness, so theres no way hes going to let it go after DS let slip that he hates feeling like he should be laying eggs. no, hes going to do his fucking research, and hes going to find the same thing i found abt the u.s. fish & wildlife service using fake eggs to control overpopulation in wild waterfowl, and then hell have to undergo the mortifying ordeal of bringing it up with DS, and well, its a perfectly logical fucking suggestion, isnt it? entirely reasonable to get a clutch of decoy eggs on the off chance that having them around will satisfy that unwanted instinctive desire. any kinky ideas anyone might have about doing anything with them are obviously completely irrelevant and not worth mentioning…..
@nuclearwinternsfw signs point to ‘literally just ask me to talk about it’ lmao. at least, that serves as an effective impetus to get me working on it again (i have resumed poking at every wip ive been asked about so far), and in theory working on it should eventually result in it being finished…. right?
anyway now im thinking again about how to incorporate eggs. still funny to me that the origin of that jam was ‘easters coming, we should write some ovi’ and 7k+ words later there are still no eggs or discussion thereof in the fic
that dirkdavesprite is so fucking good holy shit dude. oh my god.
thank you so much! i jammed most of that fic on discord in 2018 and have been trying to finish it ever since; that excerpt i posted is the very end of what i have written, and it still doesnt feel like i know how to find a stopping point.
heres another excerpt from earlier in the fic:
Cautiously, Dirk spreads his fingers apart, just a bit at first, then further. It's not as hard as he feels like it should be. It's easy, really, and Davesprite is pretty much humping his hand, clutching his wrist so hard his claws are piercing the skin, and oh, oh, he's never had this before, he's never—
"How's that feel?" he murmurs into Davesprite's ear, "'S it good?" He flexes his fingers, presses them up, spreads them. Davesprite keens and caws and the muscles inside him tense, squeeze, and it's hot and tight but not crushing, he can still move his hand, can curl his pinkie and tuck it in—
"Yeah," Davesprite warbles, "feels so good, c'mon, Dirk, do it, please—"
Dirk is shaking. He's got half his hand in there now, and Davesprite reacts to every curl and twitch and flutter of his fingers with his whole body, writhing and trembling, pressing as close as he can get.
His wrist burns where the points of Davesprite's claws dig in and his dick is throbbing in his jeans and Davesprite is panting open-mouthed against his shoulder, hot breath dampening his shirt, and all of it is absolutely the hottest thing he's ever experienced.
"Oh my god," he gasps, "fuck, bro, you're so hot, I can't believe—" and Davesprite cuts him off with a shivering caw, quakes and shudders, and something warm is running down the side of his hand, stinging the cuts in the skin of his wrist—
ah, dirkdavesprite. the nesting season fic. the preoccupied with proportional egg dimensions fic. the avian masturbation research fic. the fisting on the first date fic. the i accidentally got dirk stuck in subspace for four years fic. that fic.
excerpt under the cut ft. enthusiastic cloacalingus sliding inexorably in a d/s direction
One of Davesprite's hands slides into his hair, then, takes a firm grip and tilts his head back, makes him look up.
Dirk blinks his eyes open. He was kind of in the zone, there, but he is absolutely not going to complain. The way Davesprite is looking at him—and looming over him—makes his skin prickle with heat.
Thinking about how he must look to Davesprite intensifies it. He must be a hot fucking mess by now, breathing hard, almost panting, with his mouth and chin smeared in that translucent orange—
He licks some of it off his lower lip, and the hand in his hair tightens, tugs just a little. God, that feels good.
"Oh my god," Davesprite breathes. He pulls Dirk's hair again, tentatively, just a little harder. Dirk lets himself whimper, and Davesprite's eyes widen a fraction. "Holy shit, dude, you—"
"Yeah," Dirk says, voice thick. He swallows, tries again. "You wanna steer, bro, go right ahead. I'll, uh... if I need to. I can tap out." He squeezes the arm wrapped around Davesprite and drums his fingers in a staccato beat against his side. His face feels hot.
"Holy shit," Davesprite says again. "I mean, I—you sure?" His hand flexes, opens, slides to the back of Dirk's head, cupping the curve of his skull so the tips of his talons brush the skin at the nape of his neck.
Dirk shivers. "I'm—yeah." Words aren't usually this hard. Sprawled out under Davesprite's body, pinned against the side of his nest in the shadow of his spreading wings, feeling the prick of sharp claws on the back of his neck, right at the first cervical vertebra, where his skull meets his spine—he’s terrifyingly, thrillingly vulnerable like this, and he loves it. He looks up at Davesprite, trying in contravention to all his usual instincts to let his feelings show on his face. "Please."
“Please, he says,” Davesprite mutters, “please pull my hair and suffocate me with your weird bird junk, bro! You kinky fuck, how are you real?”
He looks a little uncertain, but he doesn't make Dirk ask again, just pulls him in with a nearly-steady hand, claws barely pricking at his hairline. Dirk sinks back into his task with an appreciative groan. He can't see Davesprite’s expression anymore, just a bright blur of orange through his fluttering lashes as his sticky face presses tight against the sprite’s body. His broken moan is muffled in Davesprite's cloaca, warm and wet and open to his eager mouth, and the vibration of it makes Davesprite curse and squirm and hold him tighter.
Dirk clings to him in return, tongue-fucking his hole with a frantic fervor. His hips judder, trying to thrust up into empty air, but a thick loop of Davesprite's tail slides over his thigh and squeezes, holding him down, and it’s good, it’s so good. Everything feels amazing, the sting in his scalp and the pressure in his chest and the dull ache growing at the root of his tongue, it all melds together until he’s not thinking at all. His focus narrows to the warm body rocking and trembling against his face, the hands holding his head and guiding his mouth. It’s easy to get lost in the taste and smell and feel of Davesprite suffusing his senses, to let go and relax into the comforting cadence of Davesprite’s voice washing over him, full of praise and pleasure.
He keeps going until he’s pulled away. Davesprite shakes him, his voice lilting up in a question, but the words don’t register. His thoughts are slow and syrupy, in contrast to his racing pulse. He takes a gasping breath and shakes his head. What was the question?
Davesprite’s still talking. Dirk tries to focus on the words. Meaning filters back in slowly.
“…the fuck?” Davesprite is saying. “Dude, are you seriously so into my ambiguously avian cooch you forgot about breathing? I mean I assume your lung capacity is fucking ridiculous since you grew up freediving on waterworld or whatever, and believe me I super appreciate your dedication to frenching my freaky sex aperture, but please do not literally asphyxiate.”
“Oh,” Dirk says, and swallows. “Sorry, yeah. Okay.”
“Okay but are you actually okay though?” Davesprite looks flustered, sounds… concerned? “I mean you were kind of sort of super out of it, dude, and maybe still are, kind of?”
“Kind of, yeah,” Dirk says. He can feel himself smiling. “I’m good, though, I promise, I just got really in the zone for a minute—or a while, I guess.” He clears his throat. “I, uh, really like that. In case that wasn’t clear.”
this one is not so much a wip as it is a scrap of pesterlog in search of a fic.
TG: holy shit dude are you okay
TG: you look fucking haunted what happened
TT: Nothing particularly harrowing.
TG: idk bro you seem pretty harrowed from here
TT: I was over at Rose’s place. We had tea.
TG: ohhhhhh
TG: yeah tea with rose always comes with a side of unsolicited unlicensed therapy
TG: she absolutely eviscerated your psyche didnt she
TG: got her titular tentacles all up in your personal trauma and neuroses
TG: its ok dude invasive psychoanalysis is her love language
(dirks love language is crafting ridiculously elaborate personal gifts laden with symbolism, and also martyring himself)
(this is nw heh heh) Tell me about the gangbang!!!! Pls
to be honest i feel a BIT like a purveyor of fraudulent gangbangs now because this is the second wip ive been asked about featuring a gangbang in which the gang doing the banging is actually just a bunch of the same dude. in this fic it is dave, because i know what im about and what im about is time travel enabled self indulgent porn.
excerpts under the cut, dave&dave&davexdirk ft. double penetration
Dave is the best at multitasking. He's rubbing up on Dirk from both sides, jerking him off and thumbing the head of his dick, squeezing his ass and caressing his chest and working two slippery fingers inside him all at the same time, kissing him deep and wet and messy while he whispers praise in his ear. "You're so fucking hot, Dirk," he breathes, and Dirk twitches in one Dave's hand, clenches around another Dave's fingers. Dave starts sucking a hickey under the hinge of his jaw and Dave releases his mouth to say "go ahead, let go, we're just getting started," and Dirk sobs and shudders through a sudden orgasm. "Fuck, you're perfect," Dave says reverently, lifting a messy hand to Dirk's lips, and Dirk licks up the clinging strands of semen and sucks on his fingers, working his tongue like he does when he has Dave's cock in his mouth.
[…]
Dirk in Dave's lap with his knees hooked over Dave's arms, spread wide with no leverage to move on his own, whimpering around Dave's fingers in his mouth while another Dave's fingers play with his hole, stroking the sensitive rim stretched around Dave's cock, pressing and prodding until one by one they slide in alongside it. "Gonna fuck you open til you can take two of me at once," Dave says conversationally, breathless laughter in his voice. "You like the sound of that, Dirk? Want to experience an exclusive double Dave dicking down?"
Dave's hands all over him, lifting and moving him, turning him around and settling him back on Dave's cock, Dave grinning up at him and pulling him down into a filthy kiss while the Dave behind him works three fingers in alongside Dave's cock in his ass and flexes them, stretching him wider, making space for more of Dave. His hole feels loose and open around Dave's cock when they pull out, and then the hot blunt head of another cock is pressing into him and Dave groans into his mouth and pulls back to watch his face. "Fuck, that's tight," he gasps, "you like that, Dirk? Yeah, you love it, you love being stuffed full of my dick,” and Dirk is nodding thoughtlessly, only half-cognizant of what Dave is saying, overwhelmed with sensation and awash in pleasure.
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