Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Wilbur,” he said with a confronting tone. “What the fuck?”

He didn’t reply, only continuing to chew his burger. “Burger?” He offered as a tomato promptly fell out and onto his crustyass decade-old loafers. “Whoops—”

“No??? How the fuck did you get in here??” He asked, gesturing around the door.

“Kicked the door down,” he replied around a bite. “Wanna have sex?”

“I—” He stuttered out, still pointing to the door. “Get the fuck out of my house???”

“Sorry, Q, no.” Wilbur said. “C’mon, let’s have rough gay hate sex.” He added.

He slumped his shoulders down, walking away to his landline, presumably to call the police on the weird homeless man that’s just broken into his mansion and started eating a burger on his leather couch. “Okay, fuck this.”

“Who are you gonna call? Your exes?” He taunted, wiping his mustard-covered hands on said couch, effectively ruining it.

Quackity huffed, putting the phone down in defeat. “You know what? Fuck it.” He walked towards the weird hobo, pulling him into a kiss.

The hobo broke away after a minute, looking him in the eyes. “:D” he said.

“You smell like shit.” The also strange businessman replied.

“I know, I haven’t showered.”

“Since..?”

“Since I fucked your mom HAHAA”

Quackity laid back on the couch, pulling the burger man on top of him and taking off his $2000-something suit so that he could fuck the homeless guy.

The homeless guy also took off his homeless coat, along with the rest of his homeless clothes to stick his homeless dick into the homefull man inside his homefull home.

“You got lube?” the homefull man asked.

He nodded, and pulled out a vial of soap from his coat.

“How the fuck did you have that?” Quackity asked again.

“I’ve got all sorts of things here, look I even got my old wife here.” Wilbur answered, pulling out a dead salmon from the inner lining of the coat.

“Okay?”

The wife-keeper soaped up his dick and inserted his soapy dick into the not soapy asshole.

“Ah~ it smells like lavander honey what fucking soap do you use dumbass?” the presdient of las nevadas asked.

“I told you, i dont shower.”

“What the fuck”

He fucked him harder with his hobo-dick.

“Ah hobo burgervan man~” he moaned as he came on his really really expensive couch.

“Ah~”

Then they heard the door being kicked down, police drawing guns at them. “What the fuck” charlie slimesicle said, staring at his boss.

“...Right, I called the cops,” Quackity said.

Chapter Text

“Quackity from Las Nevadas, what the actual fuck :).” Slime said with an extremely traumatized smile, the SWAT team standing behind him staring in horror. “Quackity from Las Nevadas, why is there a homeless man balls deep in your asshole.”

Wilbur didn’t move, only stared at them with a blank expression. “Well—” he tried to explain, but was cut off by Sam walking in the room, swinging a pistol around in his right hand, freezing in his tracks when he saw them splayed out on the leather couch.

“You are—O H Mother Fucking God.” Sam said, almost wanting to take the pistol and aim it at his mouth.

“Sam, I can explain—” Quackity tried to speak, his heart rate spiking his voice into a shaky pitch.

He was planning to saunter into the mansion right after all the cool SWAT team guys just to say “Wilbur Soot, you are under arrest for breaking and entering, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law.” but at this point he didn’t know what the fuck he was supposed to say. “Okay??” He settled on.

Quackity coughed awkwardly, still hyper aware of the fact Wilbur’s rock hard penis was still in his asshole. “Well, you see… he asked me if I wanted to have hate sex,”

“And you said yes????” He asked, a look of disbelief on his face.

“Well, I hated him pretty fucking bad, Sam. He asked me if I was calling my ex,”

“It’s true, I was there.” Wilbur added, still somehow keeping his confidence.

Sam sputtered out a response for a moment, heavily considering shooting someone. “I left Dream to come help you!”

“Oh, I never knew you two were dating, I’m very sorry.” Wilbur said very stupidly.

At this point, Sam basically gave up, deciding to shoot the glass coffee table ahead of them and walking out, slamming the door behind him.

“Quackity from Las Nevadas, should I arrest him?” Slime asked, holding out a pair of handcuffs.

The two naked fuckers both simultaneously got an idea, something that should never ever fucking happen.

“Actually, no, don’t arrest him.” Wilbur said, answering the question himself. “Right, Q?” He winked.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t arrest him.” Quackity nodded eagerly.

“Okay, Quackity from Las Nevadas. Goodbye. If you need me, I will be crying.” Slime replied.

“Uh, Slime. I actually do need something.” He said before Slime could walk off. “Can we—can I have those handcuffs?” He requested.

“Yes, Quackity from Las Nevadas.” He complied, throwing the handcuffs on the glass shard remains of the coffee table and walking out the door. The SWAT team followed close behind, the image having been burned into their retinas for far too long.

When they were sure they were finally alone again, the two looked at each other again.

“You really couldn’t have pulled your dick out of me while I was talking with my staff?” Quackity asked, darting his eyes up and down at his ass and Wilbur’s eyes.

“Oh—!” Wilbur exclaimed, pulling out hurriedly. “Sorry, I forgot.”

“You forgot???”

“Hey, try being dead for 13 years, see how your memory’s like after.” He shot back, grabbing the handcuffs from what used to be a beautiful glass coffee table.

“You forgot.” Quackity echoed, sitting up slightly to meet his eye.

“Yeah, I forgot. Don’t tell me you’ve never forgotten your keys before.”

“Well, yeah, but I haven’t forgotten my penis in someone’s ass, dude.”

Wilbur chuckled slightly at this. He (an empath) sensed that Quackity was not too happy. “You’re pretty fuckin’ pissed at me right now, aren’t you?” He voiced. “It’s turning you on, isn’t it?”

“God, yes.” He confessed, pulling the weird hobo into a passionate kiss for the second time that night, his tongue “fighting for dominance”, whatever that fucking means.

Hobo pulled away again, his breath heavy. “You wanna keep fucking on the couch or should we go to the bedroom?” He asked.

“Yeah, you know, I’d like to keep destroying my pristine leather couch—of fucking course I want to move to my bed, what do you think?” He spat back, sitting up and dragging him by the wrist from his really nice living room to his equally nice bedroom, throwing him into the bed and pinning him down. “I’m boutta get some hobussy today,” he said, spreading the hobo’s legs slightly.

“No, the fuck you’re not.” Wilbur said, pushing Quackity off to switch their positions.

Before Quackity could protest, he felt his wrists being bound together by the handcuffs and held above his head.

“But I’m about to get some Qussy, aren’t I, Big Q?” He said, spreading more honey lavender soap on his dick.

“Yeah, daddy~” he moaned, spreading his legs open.

“What the fuck bro” he said, shifting his position slightly and sticking his soapy hobo-dick back into the president’s asshole.

“Harder, hobo-daddy~”

“Okay, hobo-son.”

They fuckced harder and moaned a lot of incoherent shit that started with the word hobo and daddy until they fuckin ejaculated or something.

Wilbur collapsed beside Quackity, breathing heavily and almost drifting asleep.

“Wil,” Quackity’s voice kept him awake.

“Hm?”

“Could you uncuff me? Please?” He asked, darting his eyes at his wrists slightly.

“I don’t have the key.”

“You don’t have the fucking key??”

Chapter Text

Wilbur must’ve fallen asleep at some point because he woke up sometime near noon like the dysfunctional motherfucker he is. “Oh, you’re awake,” he said to Quackity with his groggy morning voice. “Sleep well?”

“Didn’t sleep at all, dumbass.” He replied, clearly pissed off.

“Why not, baby?” He cooed with the dumbest fucking patronizing tone Quackity ever heard.

“Because my hands are fucking bound over my head, what else do you think, Wilbur?” He glanced at his wrists resting on his chest.

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” Wilbur continued to be infuriating.

“I don’t know, how did you break into my house?” He asked, jerking his wrists at the cuffs once more in a futile attempt to free himself.

“You want me to do what I did when I broke into your house?” Wilbur asked, sitting up.

Quackity nodded, holding his wrists out slightly so that he could finally be freed. They really should’ve thought ahead and asked for the key beforehand.

Without warning, Wilbur kicked Quackity in the face, effectively giving him a nosebleed and possibly (most likely) breaking his nose.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Quackity yelled, covering his face with his still-cuffed hands in a very futile attempt at not staining his pillows with blood. “What the fuck was that for, Wil?!”

“What? That’s what I did when I broke into your house, Q, I did what you asked.” Wilbur said, shrugging slightly.

“I meant pick the lock, not kick me in the face, dumbfuck!”

“...Ohhhhh…” A slower-than-usual realization of why kicking your sexual partner in the face is a bad idea finally washed over Wilbur. “Yeah, that makes more sense.” He said, moving to rummage through the nightstand drawer for a poke-y object to poke-y the lock.

“Could you get me a tissue, please?” Quackity asked, pushing down his anger in favor of stopping the bleeding.

“Well, I’d need a sharp object to pick the lock, dumbass.” Wilbur retorted, chuckling slightly as he continued to rummage.

Quackity was silent for a moment, possible to push his anger down even further. How the fuck does he always end up fucking the dumb himbos? “I meant for my nose, y’know.” He said as calmly as anybody possibly could in that situation. In most other situations like this, he would’ve resorted to straight up punting the motherfucker to space or shooting him in the face, but if he did that now he’d just have a dead body, 0 lockpicking skills, and no more hobo-dick to fill his free time.

“Ah, right, right.” Wilbur took two sheets of tissues from the top of the nightstand and handed them to Quackity, before going back to rummaging. “Ha! Found it.” He exclaimed, pulling out a pin.

“Oh, fucking finally. C’mon, free me so I can stop bleeding all over my bed.” He said, his voice slightly muffled by the tissues.

“Alright, alright,” he said, quickly picking the lock open and throwing the cuffs to the side.

“Fuck me,” Q muttered to himself as he tossed the cuffs to the side, getting out to use the sink.

“Again?” Wilbur teased, tossing the pin off to the side, a definite hazard.

“Fuck off,”

Wilbur did a :( as he walked away.

Chapter Text

Quackity stepped into the shower, rubbing at his bruised wrists as he soaked himself in the warm drizzle of water.

What a fucking idiot he was to fuck the neighborhood burglar.

He looked down at his neck to wash off the necklace with rings he normally wears, only to find nothing there. He doesn’t remember ever taking it off because he’s a sappy motherfucker for his Sap and Karl so where the fuck could it be.

Oh, that motherfucker.

Whatever. He’ll talk about it later. He just needs to get the sweaty hobo grime off of him for now.

Honey lavender soap, mustard, mixed with other shit like his own blood and cum, the smell is fucking vile. He really needs to change his sheets now.

And his couch.

And all of his pillows.

And his floors.

Come to think of it, he’s probably gotta disinfect everything Wilbur’s touched now.

The fucking idiot also disinfects his asshole by sticking his hand up his ass. With silky smooth hair conditioner that he totally uses on a regular basis for his totally visible hair. Reasonable, since the mans fucked him twice.

“Hey, Q.” Wilbur’s recognizable, irritating voice came from behind him, startling the fuck outta him. “Need help?” He asked in his usual bitchy patronizing voice.

“How the fuck did you get in??? I locked the door???” He asked, making futile attempts to cover himself.

“I kicked it down,” he said, eating a burger he got from god knows where. “What’re you doing?”

“Nothing,”

“Wanna fuck?” Wilbur asked, consuming the rest of the burger in one bite.

“Yeah, sure” He answered, sliding the glass shower door open to let him in, taking his mint scented conditioner and handing it to Wilbur.

Wilbur eagerly jumped in, grabbing the conditioner and rubbing it on his hobo-dick. “Dude what the fuck, this is mint why is it cold”

“Yeah its mint”

“Bro why it burns”

“I thought u were into that”

“...yeah I am” he answered after a short pause, kicking Q in the knees.

“WHAT THE FUCK DUDE” he said, falling down on the shower floor in pain. “FUCK YOU”

“Fuck you, too.” He said, re-sticking his hobodick into the mans minty fresh asshole for the third time in like a few hours.

“Ah~ daddy~!” minty fresh man moaned

“Dude shut up” wilbur said, continuing to fuck him on the bathroom floor

“Kinkshame me harder, daddy~~!” he moaned.

“no”

He thrusted his minty hobo dick into the minty president ass harder

they cum

yayy

Chapter Text

“Fucking hell,” he sighed as he put on his shirt, walking into the kitchen. “Wil, you—” He stopped in his tracks, staring him up and down. “Motherfucker, why are you naked in my kitchen?”

“Morning, Q.” He said, as if he hadn’t just fucked the president on the bathroom floor literally minutes ago. “Breakfast?” He offered.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Quackity took a seat at the fancy marble island flat in the middle of his kitchen on the stools that were probably laced with gold or some fancy shit. “Do you usually do this for all your hookups?” He asked.

“Quackity, I get no bitches.”

“Oh.”

He pulled a plate from the top cabinet and plated the dish he was cooking, a dish Quackity originally thought was an omelet, but quickly came to find out was… another fucking burger. “Bon appétit!” He slid the plate over in front of Quackity, making dramatic hand gestures to accompany it.

“Mayonnaise. Very tasteful, Soot.” He replied, picking up the burger carelessly with one hand. “Where do you keep getting all these fucking burgers? I mean, I know you run a burger shop but fucking hell, dude, do you pull them outta your ass or something?” He commented before taking a big bite of the aforementioned burger.

“Why? You want me to pull them outta your ass?”

Just then, Quackity made some sort of gagging noise, followed by him promptly spitting the entire bite out into the adjacent bin and almost throwing up. The last 12 hours for him have been nothing short of fucking vile, but this was a whole new level. “Fucking Christ, Wilbur, what did you put into this shit?!”

“Cum.” Wilbur replied, not missing a beat.

“What?”

“Cum.”

Oh, it just got a hundred times more vile.

And there goes his last night’s dinner straight into the trash.

“I call it the Cumger.”

Quackity retched into the trash once more because oh dear fucking god how did he end up with this sick, sick man. He wanted nothing but to go back to the prison and torture Dream once more for having revived this son of a bitch. Oh god oh lord he had sex with this son of a bitch.

“The fucking what now?”

“Is it good?” He ignored the question.

“No, the fuck it’s not. Please keep this away from me at all costs. Please.”

“Okay, thanks for the feedback.” He said casually, taking the plate and dumping it in the trash with the rest of the regurgitated food. “Is it because of the pickles?” He questioned further.

“No, Wilbur, it’s because of the cum.”

“Ah, yeah, many people have had an issue with that too.”

“Many people? You mean you’ve fed this shit to other people before?” He asked.

“Yeah, of course. Beta testers, you know.”

After a while of silence from the both of them, Quackity spoke again. “God, I feel bad for the people who have to work for you.” He inhaled sharply, making a quick note to himself to throw out that plate. He rubbed his neck nervously as he tried to piece together another sentence to say, noticing the striking absence of the necklace he always had around his neck. “Oh, right, Wil, did you happen to see my necklace?” He asked.

“Oh, yes, I have. Very nice, by the way. Where’d you get it?”

He sighed with discontent. Usually his discontented sighs would only start when he got to work, but apparently not today. “No, I mean I lost it, do you happen to know where it might be?”

“no.”

Quackity looked him up and down, specifically focusing on his neck, which had a string of gold hanging down with two engagement rings dangling from it. “Mhm.” He said accusingly. “I can see them on your neck, dumbass. Give them back.”

“Woah, how did it get there?” He said pathetically.

“You fucking stole them.”

“No, that doesn’t sound right. We must’ve fucked so hard they transferred from you to me.”

Quackity sat in stunned silence for a while, the neurons in his brain struggling to connect and process an audible response at the man. “Wilbur, that’s not how things work.”

“Nu-uh, we didn’t use protection, that must’ve been how it was transferred.”

“Wilbur, that's how STDs work.”

This time, it was Wilbur’s turn to be silent. Mostly because his brain was too slow to process anything. “Is it?” He said.

“Get the fuck out of my house.” He replied sternly, having seen enough of the man’s shit. “Get the fuck out. Right now. And never come back to the premises of Las Nevadas.” He added.

Wilbur only stood with his arms on the kitchen island, unmoving. Either due to lack of understanding or sheer stubbornness.

“Out. Now. Or else I call Sam to haul your ass out.” He threatened.

“Nah.” was his only response.

Quackity picked up the phone not far from his reach, dialing Sam’s number and letting it ring. Not two rings later, the man on the other end picked up, an extremely tired voice laced with despair saying “hello”.

“Hi, Sam.” Quackity said.

“Oh, god. Listen, Quackity, if you’ve called to ask me for handcuff keys, you’re out of luck, I’m not going to help you. I’m sorry, but if I have to witness that one more time in my life I think the server’s gonna need a new warden.” He replied, more agony and despair in his voice.

“No, Sam, see— I just need you to get the bastard out of my house. Maybe into a cell if you can.”

“Are you dressed?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Where’s Wilbur’s cock?”

He paused for a moment, looking Wilbur up and down. “...out.”

“Then I’m not coming. Goodbye.” And a click followed by a dial tone.

“So, am I being arrested?” Wilbur asked.

“I didn’t know the police could straight up reject you like that.”

Wilbur inhaled sharply, pushing himself off the counter. “Well, alright, I guess I’ll see myself out.”

“And please don’t come back. Especially not with that fucking burger. Thank you.”

“Sure thing.” He said, grabbing an apron hanging from the oven handle and tying it around his waist. “I’d love to do this again with you sometime, Q.” He said, trailing off to the front door.

“Likewise, Soot.” Quackity replied sarcastically, throwing the plate in the trash. At this point, he’s heavily considering just buying an entirely new house.

He shut the door on his way out, the hinges coming loose and dropping the slab of wood straight to the ground.

Gotta fix that, too.

Chapter Text

“Wilbur.”

The motherfucker was back. Again. Fuck.

Quackity had gone the entire day without him crossing his mind. An achievement, really, since he was fucked really damn hard and his ass hadn’t actually forgotten it just yet. He was really busy, though, much like every other day, so he didn’t really have that much time to think about it.

At this point in the day, Quackity was suffering through his regular dump of paperwork and holed up in his office. Just the usual.

He really didn’t know where Wilbur went after their really strange affair, but as long as he was outside the borders of Las Nevadas, he didn’t really give a shit.

“Hi, Q.” The bastard replied, clearly within the borders of Las Nevadas. “How’s capitalism?”

“It’s shit, how are you?” He answered, opting to duck his head back down into the pile of capitalist paperwork instead of looking him in the eye.

“...good”

“Why are you here?” He asked with a monotone, tired president voice.

“Sex”

“Of fucking course you are” He finally looked up to face the man, who oddly looked slightly less homeless now. “The answer’s no, Wil, I’ve got work to do.”

“Please?”

“No. get out.” He went back to looking the fuck away from the man.

“Reconsider?? Please???”

“No. leave.”

“I promise I won’t feed you another Cumger.”

He reconsidered for a moment. Admittedly, that is a good deal.

“Ever again?”

“Yes, can we fuck?”

He paused, weighing the options in his head.

Pros: monthly unsubscription to Cumger, sex
Cons: wilbur soot

He shrugged, “yeah, okay, sure, why not, let’s go.”

Like the dramatic man he is, Wilbur pushed off all the items on Quackity’s desk in one sweep of his arm, pulling him up by his collar, and pinning him down to his desk, circling around to get behind him.

“Motherfucker, I needed those things.” Quackity protested, despite knowing he was going to get fuckin railed on his desk soon enough.

“Mhm, sure Q. Business and capitalism, yeah?” Wilbur replied absentmindedly, pulling out a bottle from his trenchcoat pocket and flipping the cap open.

From the smell, Quackity could already figure out what the fuck it was.

“Wil, is that fucking hand sanitizer?”

“Yes”

“And you’re gonna use it as lube?”

“Of course,”

“What happened to the fucking soap, Wilbur?”

“I lost it”

“And you don’t have anything else???”

“Hey, it’s either that or fucking mustard, man.”

Another moment to weigh his options.

Pros: sex
Cons: its hand sanitizer in his ass, need I say more?

“Yeah, alright.” He scoffed. In the past 24 hours, he’s had 2 different things used as lube, those being lavender soap, and hair conditioner, and now he’s gonna add hand sanitizer to the list.

Wilbur replied with a silent nod, pulling out his Chad Megadick and sanitizing it. “Did you lock the door?”

“No, so fucking c'mon, quick,” He said, impatiently undoing his pants like the impatient manwhore he is.

“Alright, alright, chill.” He said, sticking his sanitized megadick in without much warning.

This time, he was a bit more hesitant in moaning “ah, daddy, harder hobodaddy~” because he was getting his cheeks clapped in his office and the people just outside didn’t exactly want to hear that. Still, he moaned like the little bitchboy he is.

“Ah~ fuck, ah, god, that burns~! Ah!”

He started doing the fuckfuck in and out motions. “Yea I know”

“A-a-ah-a-ah~! H-h-hah-harder d-d-d-daddy— h-harder~!” he lagged

“Nah”

“Bro please”

“Nah”

“Man wtf”

Despite what he said, he did in fact start fucking him harder because he is a bitch.

“A~”

“E~”

“Sportss~”

“The game it’s in~”

And they both came, Wilbur deep in his ass, and Quackity on his probably priceless wooden desk.

“Where the fuck is my gun???” Quackity heard, his eyes still blurry from tears and his mind still hazy from getting fucked and cumming.

“Huh? Whad’ya say, Wil?” He asked, his voice barely coherent.

“Didn’t say anything.” He answered nonchalantly, not yet pulling his cock out.

Quackity blinked his eyes back into focus, lifting his head slightly to face the doorway.

“...Sam. hi.”

“Good evening Quackity. Sorry to disturb you, I’ll be on my way now.” Sam replied from the doorway in a tone that can only be described as deep deep newlyfound trauma and something akin to apathy.

“No, Sam, wait, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“I can't deal with this anymore.” Quackity could see him slam the door and walk away.

There was silence in the room, Quackity contemplating what he should do next.

“Wilbur, could you pull it out? Please?” He asked, still unable to move since the man’s weight was pinning him down to the desk.

“Nah, I like this.”

“Please dude I can’t move :]”

“My dick really hurts and i think im going to die if i move it Q :)”

“Why the fuck did you use hand sanitizer then :]”

“Im not sure Q : )”

“I will stab you with a pair of scissors Wilbur : ]”

“Okay okay fine okay” he muttered out hurriedly as he pushed himself off of him, putting his megacock back into his pants.

“I'm assuming this is going to be a regular thing now.” Quackity said, stumbling off the desk and struggling to stay upright. "I'll see you next time, then."

“You up for tomorrow night?”

“You know where to find me, Wil.”

Chapter Text

The night came and went and so did Wilbur. Quackity cleaned himself up in the bathroom down the hall, and after absolutely no aftercare, picked up the papers from the ground and sat back down at his cum-splattered desk to finish the work he was so rudely pulled away from.

He did the usual routine of working late into the night, packing it up, and going home.

He was half expecting to see Wilbur broken into his mansion asking him for a round 2 and rubbing his shit burgers on the furniture, but wasn't exactly disappointed when he found nobody there.

He slept until the morning came, and went back to work, still no sight of Wilbur anywhere. Wow, the horny bastard can actually spend a few hours not buried inside his ass.

The daylight came and went, Quackity deciding to finish early to wait for Wilbur, as the two agreed to meet again tonight.

He really shouldn't be looking forward to it so much, he found that he spent a few lingering moments throughout the day thinking about the burger bastard.

This time, he had a small vial of lube in his pocket, not wanting to use yet another obscure substance to get fucked.

A few hollow hours passed since midnight, and the bitch showed no signs of showing up. Odd, since a man like him should have literally nothing to keep him busy.

Quackity decided fuck it, he's not showing up, might as well do something fun.

He went into one of his shady murder-y vibe bars, one of the more quiet ones. Those fuckers always had the best drinks. A few drinks in, he went up to the pool table, some trashed fucker trying his best to play, despite clearly being too fucked to stand.

He was the only other patron in there, aside from some guy that went into the bathroom and seemingly never came out, so Quackity decided it'd be a good idea to hit some balls.

He grabbed a cue and said a quick greeting to the drunk. He lined it up with the cue ball, bending over the table to get a good reach, and knocked it forward gently.

As he was watching the ball roll to its target, not moving from his position, he felt something press up against his ass.

"Evening, Q."

He flipped around in one quick movement, looking the man in the eye.

"Wilbur Fucking Soot"

"Missed me?"

"I was waiting for you." He answered. "You said we'd meet again tonight,"

"They wouldn't let me into the building, Q." Wilbur replied, stuffing his hands into his coat pocket. "They said I looked homeless and crazed,"

Quackity scoffed, "yeah, 'course they did. How'd you find me?"

"I followed you out of your building."

Quackity nodded slowly. "Mhm… 'course you did…"

After a brief pause between the two of them, Wilbur spoke again. "So, are you gonna take off your pants or what?"

He looked around hesitantly, seeing the bartenders out on their smoke break and the drunk probably retching into the toilet. "I mean, sure?"

"Great, you've got any lube this time?"

He nodded, patting his pant pockets, only to find it empty. He searched the rest of the pockets and came to the conclusion that he left it at his office.

Dammit.

"Nope, you?"

"Nah, but I've got something just as good."

Quackity hesitated at this answer, seeing as the last time, it was hand sanitizer. "And that is…?"

"Turn around, you'll see soon enough."

That wouldn't be a comforting answer, especially coming from Wilbur Soot, but after the couple of drinks he's had, he couldn't give a fuck.

So instead, he was going to get a fuck.

He pulled down his pants and bent over the pool table, Wilbur taking out his megacock and lubing it up with something.

He got behind him and stuck the lubed megacock in very difficultly.

"Ah—Fuck~! T-the fuck? Ah-h~ bro why is it so dry??? What did you use????" Quackity moaned, feeling what can only be described as sandpaper in his asshole.

"Chalk~"

"????"

"It was on the table okay"

"You used the billiards chalk?? As lube????"

"Yes Q what else do did you think I was gonna use"

"Literally anything else????"

Wilbur got tired of being questioned, so he started fucking him with his chalky cocky faster to make him shut the fuck up.

"AH FUCK WHAT THE FUCK DUDE OW— AH— AY~" Quackity moaned/screamed in pain.

"Yep that fucking hurts a lot :D" Wilbur moaned in reply, not at all slowing down.

"FUCKING— AH~ STOP, DADDY~!"

"no <3"

"ALRIGHT THANKS FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION" he said as he cum on the table.

Chalky boy also cum

Chapter Text

The two of them kinda just stood there not really doing anything for a bit, taking a moment to calm down from the rough and dry chalky sex they just had, also not wanting to move because the chalk made the friction just excruciatingly painful.

Quackity was once again pinned to the table, unable to move from Wilbur’s weight and sheer stubbornness keeping him down. Felt nice to not have the dick scraping up against his insides anymore but he wanted to not have a dick in his asshole while in the middle of a public bar.

Wilbur seemed to be looking around absentmindedly at this point, and wondering if Wilbur just fucking forgot to pull out again, Quackity spoke, “Wil, out.”

After a brief pause, Wilbur processed the two (2) words that Quackity had said to him and replied with a well thought out response. “Hm?”

“Pull out, bitch.” He repeated.

“Wha—? Oh, right, right, yeah.” He hurriedly pulled out, the dry chalky friction causing the both of them to want to scream in pain and agony, but neither of them made a noise because they’re big strong tough manly men that just had hardcore gay chad sex on the pool table and moaned manly things such as “ah, stop, daddy~”.

Quackity grunted slightly, pulling himself off of the table and shoving his cock back into his pnats.

Wilbur sighed, leaning back on a nearby table, his cock still out. “You gonna stay here?” He asked.

Quackity rested his weight on the pool table behind him that totally doesnt have cum on it. "I mean, I've got a few more hours to kill before work, you?"

He shrugged, grabbing a nearby opened bottle of beer that most likely wasn’t his and drinking it.

“Okay, then. I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” Quackity said after no clear response from the hobo.

“Is this an invitation for round two?" Hobo asked with a bit too much excitement in his voice.

Quackity gave it a quick moment of drunken thought. "I mean, I just wanted to take a shit but okay.”

Wilbur smashed the bottle of beer on the ground much like he smashed quackity and he walked to the really dirty public bathroom with Quackity.

“Oh dear fucking god.”

The drunk man from earlier was either dead or passed out on the grimy floors. But of course, they didn’t really give him any attention, being the impatient, inconsiderate horny sluts they are. They went inside the one stall that could actually fucking lock and got to the hardcore fucking.

“C’mon take off ur pants Q” Wilbur said impatiently because despite just cumming deep in the president on a pool table in a sketchy pub, he still wants more sex.

Quackity gave it a moment of thought. “Nah, no thanks,”

“...I wont use chalk again i swear, just like, turn around and dont look at my not chalky dick” he said, trying to hide the chalk he clearly grabbed from the pool table behind his back.

Quackity definitely noticed the chalk he grabbed from the pool table. “I doubt that, so no”

Wilbur sighed. “You want me to suck ur dick or smthn?”

Quackity shrugged, “better than chalky anal sex, sure”

“Alright :D” he got on his knees on the dirty public bar restroom floor and took the rich man’s cock out of his rich expensive pants. He put the cocky deep in his mouth and started choking and making some sort of gagging noise, which Quackity comlpltely ignored because he’s just like that and really he just got fucked with a sandpaper dick by the man so he really couldnt care less. Despite sounding like a dying dog, wilbur for some reason didnt pull off and just kept choking on the dick for like maybe a minute while quackity watched with a lot of confusion because really how does a man become this incompetent at helping himself.

After a while Wilblr stopped choking on the damn thing finally and started suckin it as if he was saving it by giving it CPR.

Quickaty made a sort of half-moan at this because for the first time in a few days he wasnt getting fucked roughly in the ass by some incompetent homeless man and instead getting some good head by the same incompetent homeless man.

The problem this time was that the incompetent homeless man didn’t know how to give dick CPR at all so he basically almost bit the dick off with his teeth, so quackity stopped moaning and nstead yelled in pain very loudly. “FUCK— AGH~ WHAT THE FUCK~?!”

“:D” wilbur smiled around the cock in his mouth.

“I am in misery :’]” president whispered to himself before resuming his loud swearing

“Reeses puff reeses puff” wilbru somehow said while on the penis.

“FUCK, TH— THAT FUCKING HURTS~!”he moaned very loudly in pain because apparently he’s into that. “AH~ HARDER, HOBODADDY! HARDER~” he moaned more.

Wilbur pulled off the dick and looked up at him, “Q i think if i go harder im gonna bite ur dick off”

He stopped doing his moan-scream thing abruptly and thought very thoughtfully for a moment. “Okay, then don’t.”

“ok!” wilbur answered before going back to giving bad dick cpr.

“AH! Wilbur you motherfucker~!” he continued to moan

He pulled off the penis for a moment to speak. “Thats true, i did fuck your mom, Q~” Wilbur said in a hot sultry seductive voice.

That made the mr president cum on the hobo’s face because he’s down bad.

“What the fuck man”

“Whoops lol”

“Thank you for your time,” wilbur said as he stood up, unlocked the stall door, and left, kicking the passed out drunk in the side and leaving the bathroom.

Quackity kinda just shoved his cock back in his pants and walked out to see the drunk alive and strugglign to get up because his rib was just broken by the man in the trench coat. He kicked the guy in the other side too for good measure and walked out the door, leaving the bar without paying.

When he got out, he saw wilbur opening a sewer grate and fucking jumping in. what the fuck. Is he really that homeless?

Being kinda drunk and already having cum twice tonight, and his sexual partner being in the sewers, he decided to just go home and sleep for a few hours, again with no aftercare whatsoever.

Chapter Text

A few hours later, Quackity wakes up from his very little amount of sleep, as usual, going to his usual office to do his usual work as the usual president of his usual gambling country.

He almost forgot the fact that he had very public sex in a rundown bar with the server’s most popular terrorist just a couple hours ago, that is, if it weren’t for the pain in his asshole from the chalk scraping against his insides and the painful marks on his dick from being fucking bitten by a rabid dog named Wilbur Soot.

Speaking of which, he and Wilbur hadn’t made a plan for their next hookup, and he wonders if it’s because he came on the mans face, but seeing as wilbur has roughly fucked him in the ass many different ways, it’s only fair if he gets his turn in being a bitch, right?

Wilbur always knows where he is and knows how to break into his house, he isn’t concerned about not being able to get in contact with him. He could go a day without strange substances being harshly fucked into his ass by a dirty homeless man anyway.

Unlike the day before, he isn’t such a horny fuck and could actually focus on his work without wanting to jack off in the restroom. He even made it all the way until lunch without thinking about the man. Good for him!

“Slime,” he said, looking up from his desk at the strange blob man just ahead of him.

“Yes, Quackity from Las Nevadas?” He answered in his usual cheerful slimy way.

“Where do you reckon I should have lunch today? I’m getting bored of the usual shit, do you have anything new?” He asked, resting his head on one of his arms lazily. There are many food places scattered in every block in Las Nevadas, but as the maker of the entire fucking country, he’s tasted practically everything good.

He thought for a moment, the smile on his face not at all altering. “I saw a new hotdog place open just outside the border, Quackity from Las Nevadas.” He replied.

Quackity hummed delightfully, getting up from his desk and grabbing the fucking axe from the wall. “Well, I’ll be eating there, I guess. See you later, Slime.” He gave a brief, friendly smile at the man(?) and left, walking out of his office building and wandering the streets in search for this so-called “New Hotdog Place” Slime mentioned.

“Just outside the border,” he repeated to himself. The only place any reasonable person would put a restaurant would be in the clearing right over there right beside Wilbur’s Shit Burgers. Oh, and just his luck, there’s a brand new van beside Wilbur’s. It doesn’t look half bad, either.

Doesn’t matter, anyway. He’s fucking starving. Shitty hotdogs would literally be as good as any. So, he made his way to the hotdogs and knocked on the van window.

The guy inside sleepily creaked the window open, groggily saying “welcome to Dicks n’ Buns’ Saucy Dogs, the fuck you want?” without really looking out to look at him.

Wow, was the place really called Dicks n’ Buns’ Saucy Dogs?

Quackity peered over to the side to check the sign plastered on the front of the van, finding that it was in fact called Dicks n’ Buns’ Saucy Dogs.

“Can I have a…” he focused his eyes on the menu. “...Saucy dog?” He said, cringing a lot at the name.

“Micro, large or mega?” The guy asked.

He looked up at the guy, almost to ask what the actual fuck is up with the sizing here, only to realize that the man serving him was none other than Wilbur Fucking Soot.

“Wilbur?” He asked in surprise.

“Okay, so Mega.” He said, walking away to go get the food.

“Wait, Wil?” Quackity asked again, peeking into the van.

The man looked back at him, clearly Wilbur Soot, the man he fucked in a bar last night. “Oh, Quackity! Hi, what are you doing here?” He asked cheerfully.

“I thought you worked at the burger van, what are you doing here at…” He paused to cringe at the name for a moment. “...Dicks n’ Buns Saucy Dogs?”

“Oh, the burger business gets boring after a while, there’s only so many different types you can make, you know, Q?” He said as he made the hotdogs. “At some point, your ‘new and exclusive’ flavors start being described as ‘vile’, and ‘the worst thing I’ve ever had the misfortune of tasting’, and ‘literally killed my brother via food poisoning’, you know?” He continued, Quackity becoming more and more concerned with each review he mentioned.

“...yeah.” He answered, now somewhat concerned at what Wilbur’s doing to his hotdog. “So, anyway, about last night. Sorry ‘bout coming on your face man, ‘twas an accident.” He decided to change the subject before his food got any more concerning.

“Yeah, yeah, happens all the time, I make a comment about your mother and suddenly you’re jizzing all over my face, I get it.” He said, and it actually sounds genuine and not sarcastic in the slightest.

“Right, it happens all the time.” Quackity repeated, slightly unsure of what Wilbur’s been doing to be able to say it so nonchalantly. “So we’re good?”

“If ‘good’ means we’re still gonna have sex multiple times a day, absolutely. We’re great.” He said, plopping down a slightly larger than expected hotdog in front of Quackity.

The sausage looks remarkably like a penis with what he hopes is mayonnaise spilling out from the tip and not actual cum.

He decides fuck it, he doesn’t care if its mayo or cum, and takes a nice big bite of the mega-sized hotdog, and surprisingly, it tastes pretty good. “So are we gonna have sex right now?” Quackity asked with his mouth full.

“Absolutely, come on in.” Wilbur said cheerfully, creaking the door open.

Quackity eagerly hopped in and shut the door behind him, already undoing his pants like the needy fucking whore he is. “Lube?”

“Again, no.” Wilbur replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Chalk?”

“No,” Wilbur answered.

“Good.” He said, pulling his cock out and hopping on the counter. “What’s it gonna be this time?”

Wilbur also pulled his cock out, grabbing a thing of cooking oil from near the stove. “Cocking oi.” He answered.

Quackity looked at the bottle to actually understand what the man just said, but nodded happily once he could make out the words. Finally this is actually a semi-reasonable option.

He undoes his pants too and lathers his cock up with the so-called Cocking Oi, and suddenly fucks into Quackity without warning.

“Wow, we someho—Aah~, Fuck— Fuck hobodaddy~!” Quackity tried to speak but just fuckin moaned as the dick actually went inside his ass easily this time and didn’t scrape up against his insides with every movement.

“That was easy,” Wilbur said. “Weird.” He said, pulling his dick out and shoving it back in as if to test why it was suddenly not extremely painful.

“Ah~ harder hobo!” he moaned very loudly.

Hobo did not move harder, and instead went “M y dick is slipperyy????” in the most concerned voice quackitys ever heard from him.

“Is it not supposed to be?” Quackity asked, wanting nothing more than to just get fucked really hard by the finally not dry dick.

“It doesnt uusually do this??????” he continued being concerned.

“Gee, I wonder why,” quackity grumbled sarcastically.

“Did my dick shrink??” he said with even more concern as if it was the worst thing to ever fucking happen to him.

Quackity groaned at the mans dumbassery. “Okay, no, c’mon, fuck me with your slippery dick, daddy.”

“Wh— okay??” he said confusedly, fucking him with the adequately slippery dick.

“h—AH~ fuckme~” He moanesd

“Where is the burning sensation??” wilbur moaned while quickly fucking him harder.

“Ah~” Quakciyt moaned more again and of course he cum again

But before wilbur could also cum with his slippery oily dick someone broke into the damn van because he didnt lock the door.

He wasnt originally gonna pay any attention to the person now in his van because he has no shame in being seen buttass naked fucking the president, but quackity abruptly stopped moaning, which was confusing for him.

“Quackity?”

“Sapnap, this isn’t what it looks like—”

Chapter Text

“Sapnap!” Wilbur greeted happily, definitely not having the mental capacity to realize the fact that Sapnap (1 out of 2 of Quackity’s fiances) walking in on him and Quackity having sex isn’t a great thing.

“Quackity, what are you doing?” sapnap ignored wilbur’s friendly greeting probably on the grounds of He Is Fucking My Fiance Inside The Dicks n’ Buns’ Saucy Dogs Hotdog Van.

“Uh— Sap, I can explain—”

Wilbur belatedly realized how this was not a good thing and that Sapnap is probably very unhappy about the fact his fiance is cheating on him with some guy in a filthy trench coat, and decided to make a Lie so that Sapnap would Leave and they could go back to having Sex. “We’re filing our taxes!” He exclaimed in a very convincing manner.

Sapnap was silent for a bit, probably trying to think of a response to Wilbur’s very clever excuse. “Shit, I’ve been doing my taxes wrong my whole life, then.” He said, concerningly not sounding sarcastic in the slightest. “Wait, how am I supposed to do it?” He asked with a strange amount of curiosity.

“Okay, you see, you just need to—” wilbur was about to start fucking quackity again as a continuation of the Lie he told.

Quackity interrupted before wilbur could go back to fuckin him again, “okayokayokayokay no, stop— Sap, I can’t believe i have to clarify this but we’re not filing taxes, we’re having sex.”

“Ohhhhh, I knew something was off.” Sapnap said. “Sorry for interrupting, I’ll let you guys finish,” he opened the door to let himself out, though somewhat passive aggressively.

“Wait, Sap, you’re not mad?” Quackity asked.

He sighed, shutting the door and turning to face him. “Of course I’m mad, Q, you’re cheating on me.”

“Ooh you’re fuckin’ pissed off your husband’s having sex with me, yeah?” Wilbur stepped in and taunted before Quackity could reply, pulling his dick outta Quackity just to step closer to sapnap to taunt him harder. “Did you know that I’m the better one between the two of us?” He paused for a moment. “Sexually, I mean.”

He scoffed. “Fiance, and we both know I’m the best. Isn’t that right, Quackity?”

They both turned to him and awaited a response, Sapnap silently mouthing the word “yes” over and over again in an attempt to coerce him to say it, but Quackity just shrugged with indifference, being the opportunist he is and wanting to see how this would play out.

“Right, well then, I have an idea.” Wilbur said, a statement that is always troubling when it comes from him and him only. “What about you go fuck Q right now, and we let him decide who’s the better sex haver, yeah?” He said.

“Quackity?” Sapnap turned to ask him his opinion on the matter, because despite really wanting to challenge the homeless man in a fuck-off, he still wanted consent from his fiance.

Quackity, being the sex-addicted whore he is, answered “sure, why not.”

“And you’re gonna watch?” Sapnap turned back to ask Wilbur.

“Of course,”

He paused for a moment, weighing his very strange options. “You’re on, then.” Sapnap finally replied with utmost certainty.

“Oh, believe me, I am extremely on.” Wilbur said, gesturing vaguely at his very hard dick still on display.

Sapnap had this slightly disgusted look on his face, as if that statement alone was more disgusting and strange than the idea of having sex with his fiance in a strange hotdog van whilst a terrorist watches.

So, Sapnap walks up to Quackity, sitting still on the counter, waiting for something.

Waiting for him.

He looks him deep in the eyes with love and longing, and kisses him.

It was a sweet reunion for a moment. The two fiances getting back together and sharing a soft and warm kiss after what felt like forever being apart. And after all the nights Quackity had spent alone dreaming of this moment with a glass of whatever, it was so much better than he remembered it.

It was like the rest of the world disappeared except for them. Like time stood still for them and them only. Like falling back in love all over again, back to the first moment they met.

That is, until Quackity pulled away abruptly, a concerned look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Sapnap asked, matching his concern.

He paused for a good moment, carefully considering his words, very aware of how soft and fragile this moment between the two of them was.

He looked his fiance up and down, an indiscernible look on his face.

“Q, are you okay?” Sapnap asked again.

“Are you on fucking shrooms??” Quackity sharply accused, tasting something in his mouth. He quickly leaned back in to kiss him again for a second, then pulled back again.

“Oh my god, you’re on shrooms.” He said after a moment of consideration.

“Wh— No I’m not!” Sapnap tried to defend.

“I can fucking taste it, Sap. Don’t fuckin’ lie to me.”

Sapnap was silent for a moment, considering his response. “Quackity, how do you know what shrooms taste like??”

He tried to stutter out a response, but then went silent too. Likely from the fact that he didn’t know how to explain to his fiance that he’s been doing drugs.

So many fuckin’ drugs.

Like tables worth of cocaine.

Like fuckin’ fields of magic mushrooms.

“So are we gonna have sex or no?” Quackity asked nervously with an awkward cough, clearly trying to change the subject.

“Yeah, for sure,” Sapnap replied very quickly, also eager to change the subject and get laid instead of being interrogated about his drug habits. “I brought lube, do you need some?” He asked.

“...you brought lube?”

“Yes,”

“To your lunch break…?”

“Yes,”

“Why—” Quackity was about to ask, until he realized he’s the one fucking the homeless man with cooking oil during his lunch break, so he really wasn’t one to talk. “Right, sure.” He answered.

“Wilbur, ‘you mind if I use some of your stuff?” Sapnap asked politely, as if he wasn’t about to have sex in Wilbur’s kitchen.

“You into knifeplay?” Wilbur asked in response, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his head resting on his palm, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Sap please dont tell me you’re sticking a knife up my ass.” Quackity intercepted, concerned, seeing the dozens of knives splayed out in arm’s reach.

“No, no, I mean something from…the fridge.” Sapnap replied, grabbing the handle of the refrigerator.

“Yeah, use whatever you want,” Wilbur answered nonchalantly.

"Thanks man” He said, reaching into the fridge and grabbing something frozen.

Quackity couldn’t see what it was, but could see that sapnap was putting actual lube on it, so whatever’s going up his ass can’t be that bad, right?

Surprisingly, after being abandoned by the man, he still trusts that he won’t stab him in the ass.

He looked away to Wilbur for a moment, not the most eager to find out what sapnap was about to do to him. He noticed Wilbur was playing with the carpet and tracing little penis drawings on it because really what are you supposed to be doing in this situation? Like, is he supposed to be jacking off? Is he supposed to leave? Close his eyes? Have a threesome??

Suddenly he felt something really cold slide deep inside his ass, presumably whatever sapnap grabbed from the fridge and lubed up. “A-AHhah~ Fucking— Fuck, god that’s cold~ a-ah~” He moaned, feeling like Elsa from the hit movie Frozen has fingered him and is now fucking him very hard.

“You dick! Are you using one of my frozen sausages to fuck him?!” Wilbur chimed in somewhat angrily. “Those things are expensive, bitch,”

“You—Aah~ S-s-sap~ You’re fucking me with a f-frozen sausage????? T-the fuck??” Quackity said in between moans as Sapnap only fucked into him harder.

“You fuckin bet i am, baby~” He said, before leaning in to kiss him again.

Quackity moaned into the kiss for a moment, before pulling away. “Mhh—aah~ R-really, Sap, where did y-you get fucking shrooms~?”

“I grew them myself,” he answered. “Duh.”

“You—” Quackity tried to speak again, but Sapnap got tired of him asking him about his drug habits, so he fucked into him even harder to get him to shut up.

“AH FUCK, HOBODADDY—!” Quackity moaned loudly, but quickly stopped himself. “Fuck— I— Ah, Sapnap~” He corrected himself, moaning a lot more quietly now.

“Fuckin’ what-daddy???” Sapnap said in confusion, but before Quackity could reply he came on his clothes and all over the restaurant counter.

Chapter Text

For a few minutes, all they did was intently watch Quackity, who looked like he was about to pass out from the massive amounts of sex he’s just had.

Wilbur got up from the floor, moving to stand next to Quackity. “That was horrible, wasn’t it, my little hobo-son?” Wilbur looked Quackity in his half-lidded eye(s), trying to coerce the dazed man into saying he’s got the better fucking-skills out of the two of them.

“Well—” Quackity tried to speak, but was quickly interrupted.

“No, look at him, he can’t even fuckin’ talk. I’m just that good, Soot.” Sapnap cleverly replied.

“That’s not an achievement. He looks like he’s halfway to limbo already.”

“No, the fuck I’m not.” Quackity answered, his breathing very uneven. “And I, for one, think Sapnap did a great job.” He continued, turning to look at Sapnap with a soft smile.

“Aw, thanks, baby.”

“Oh, for fucks sake.” Wilbur chimed in. “Q, you’re supposed to be on my side.” He protested, looking very offended.

“I know, Wil, I just— aAhAHh~” Quackity tried to reply, but was cut off with a moan-scream as he felt something go back in his ass. “WHat the fuck sap???”

“Sorry” Sapnap said, moving his fingers inside Quackity’s ass in an attempt to fish out the sausage while he continued moaning very loudly.

“Fuck, sorry, it’s kinda stuck in there.” Sapnap apologized, still prodding his fingers in there somewhat carelessly.

After a frustratingly long amount of time with Sapnaps fingers in his ass trying to drag the sausage back out and lots of unreasonably pornographic moaning from Quackity, he finally got a grip on it and fished it out. “HAHAH I GOT IT!” He exclaimed, waving the sausage around victoriously.

“Is anyone gonna eat that?” Wilbur asked.

“No. No, no, no, I’m not letting you eat that.” Quackity answered quickly before Sapnap could answer.

“But the five second rule :(“ Wilbur replied.

“There’s no way that’s been in my ass for less than five seconds, Wilbur.”

“Dunno, you came pretty quick, baby.” Sapnap chimed in, seeing this as an opportunity to flex his sex-having skills.

“Oh, no he didn’t.” Wilbur protested. “I’ll fuckin’ show you quick.” He continued with a tone of determination, shoving Sapnap away and pinning Quackity under him.

Sapnap fell to the carpeted floor, dropping the sausage to the side. “bitch!” He exclaimed, very much wanting to break the mans nose.

“You up for a very quick round 3, Q?” Wilbur asked, ignoring Sapnap entirely and instead focusing on sex, as he always does.

“Uh— yeah? Sure, why not, I guess.” He answered, watching Wilbur immediately pull down his pants and grab a
fucking bottle of spicy mustard from the countertop beside him.

He pulled his dick out and poured a generous amount of spicy mustard on his dick as if it was a hotdog as quackity started to recoil slightly at the fact that mans pouring spicy mustard on his dick.

Though his train of concerned thought was very quickly cut off when wilbur put his cock back near the his ass, and quickly started fucking him, hoping to break some sort of world record.

And as always the president started moaning lots of things containing the word hobo, his fiance sitting on the carpet with an extremely confused and somewhat concerned look on his face, probably thinking ‘what the fuck has this man done to my fiance’ and ‘maybe it was a good idea to leave him’.

“Ahh the burning is back” Wilbur commented cheerfully in the most sultry voice sapnap has ever heard, still fucking him very hard.

At that, sapnap got even more concerned, especially at the fact that the love of his life is just sorta letting this happen and seemingly enjoying it a lot.

“Daddy~!” the well-respected president man moaned as he came again.

“See? That’s what you call fast.” Wilbur said to sapnap while he also came, for some reason remembering to pull out this time just to spill cum all over his kitchen.

Sapnap scoffed at this, crossing his arms and looking away. “Yeah, because I loosened him up for you.” He replied saltily.

They were all silent for a moment, Sapnap busy being bitter about the fact a homeless zombie fucks better than he does and Quackity struggling to stay alive after getting greatly fucked by the homeless zombie man in question.

“I amnot a fucki ng pickle jar.” Quackity finally slurred out in his dazed half-dead state.

“Sure you aren’t, baby.” Sapnap replied sarcastically, getting up from the carpet and dusting himself off. “Well, I’ll be on my way, I guess.” He sighed, walking over to the doorway of the van. “I’ll be having very good and experienced sex if either of you need me.” He added.

“With who??” Quackity confronted with a strange amount of regained energy.

“...Women and stuff” Sapnap continued, definitely totally not lying in the slightest.

“Yeah, as if.” Wilbur scoffed.

“So you’re cheating?” Quackity asked bitterly.

“And you’re not???”

Quackity stayed silent at this.

Sapnap opened the door to the outside, looking back at his half naked fiance. “I’ll be off now. You know where to find me.” He said, promptly closing the door behind him.

“No i fucking dont??????”

Chapter Text

After yanking his pants back up and limping his way out of the hotdog van, quackity went straight back to work without any consideration of the cum stains on his clothes, nor the cum still in his ass, nor the fact that he could barely walk. Stay on that grind king.

He went back home that night, once again slightly expecting wilbur (and/or sapnap) to have broken in and ready to fuck him once more. But alas, he was greeted with nobody and his ass got a good night’s rest.

Next day, there was still nobody in his house or office. A disappointment to him, but his ass was begging for a break, so a few hours without cock wouldn’t hurt him.

Probably.

At night, he went home. Nobody.

Wow, this has got to be some kind of new record.

He waited, popped open a bottle of wine older than he was, poured a glass, waited, poured another, waited, poured and repeated until the bottle was drained of all its contents.

Being wine-drunk and unfucked, he decided to call it a night and just go to bed.

Maybe tomorrow.

He woke up to the whistling of wind and something rubbing up against his back, and ass. He opened his eyes, noticing his room still dim and dark. He looked to his extremely big windows, and realized everything was still pitch black night.

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” He heard from behind him.

He closed his eyes happily, rolling over to face the man. “Mmm, Wilburrr~” He said in his sleep-thick voice, snuggling into the man. He opened his eyes and looked at him fondly. “Oh, shit, Wilbur,” he said with a lot more concern, his sleepy brain finally registering the fact that Wilbur Is In My House And I Did Not Invite Him, Why The Fuck Is He In My House, and promptly scrambling away from him. “How the fuck did you get here?”

“Window,” Wilbur answered softly.

Quackity calmed down significantly at this and unscrambled away from him.

“Wait,” Quackity pulled away again, and looked out his window.

Being the smart man he is, he noticed two things:

1, his window is now broken,

and 2, he lives in a penthouse

he very high.

He turned to look back at Wilbur, “how did y—”

He heard his bedroom door slam open, a familiar voice promptly screaming “good morning, babyyyy~”

“...sapnap” Quackity greeted, his brain unable to process the sheer amount of breaking and entering going on at the moment.

"Ew, who's this ugly fuck, baby?" Sapnap continued, gesturing at Wilbur, who Quackity only now realized was buttass naked.

"Wilbur Soot, pleasure to meet you." Wilbur replied, turning to face Sapnap and accidentally(?) showing him his hard dick.

"Well your dick's small." Sapnap commented, as if it was the first time he's seen Wilbur with his cock out.

"Thanks, yours is too. Now please fuck off so I can have sex." Wilbur said, shooing him away with his hand and rolling back to face Quackity, who was visibly thinking.

"No way, it's my turn with the whore president."

"Hey!" Quackity stopped thinking for a moment to reply to the very insulting insult, even though it was true.

"I think he'd rather have sex with me, isn't that right, hobo-son?" Wilbur said, grabbing Quackity’s ass.

Something clicked in Quackity's brain and he decided to voice a thought. "Oh my god, I've transcended into a telenovela." He groaned, rubbing his face with his hands.

"I was thinking more PornHub, but whatever you like, Q" Wilbur said, grabbing a small tub of lotion from the nightstand.

Wait, lotion?

No, that's too good to be true.

Okay, nevermind, hair gel. A tub of pinewood scented hair gel. Something that neither him, nor Wilbur uses.

"Do I at least have a turn after you?" Sapnap asked nicely.

"Nope."

"Please?"

"Nope."

"Please?"

"Okay, fuck this." Quackity patted the mattress and pushed himself off his bed, grabbing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his nightstand because he's just that addicted to smoking. "I'll be on the balcony if either of you need me." He said before walking past Sapnap and out the door.

"Quackity, wait." Sapnap said, Quackity stopping and turning to look at him. "We need you," he said, somewhat sweetly. “We can’t have sex without you, y’know?” He continued, the sweetness of his words immediately disappearing.

Quackity could only sigh and walk away at this.

On the balcony, he tapped the pack on the palm of his hand twice, and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and leaning his weight on the railing, dramatically looking out at his country.

He started his usual inner monologue of how he built this country with his own two hands and if he can do that then nothing can bring him down or whatever.

Fucking dramatic facebook mom.

He blew out a cloud of smoke, watching it dissipate in the night air. "God, I miss Schlatt. He was so much better than these fucks." He whispered to himself.

"I'd hope so." A voice said from beside him, startling him.

"WOAH, SHIT— Who— what the fuck?" He dropped his cigarette on the ground, looking the man up and down over and over again.

"Geez, don't waste cigarettes, sugar pumpkin" The man said very casually, squatting down to pick up the cigarette, only to fail and have it fall through his hand.

"Schlatt?" Quackity asked, blinking a lot more now.

"Glatt."

“Oh my god, will my sexual partners please stop appearing in my house.” Quackity groaned, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand.

“Boyfriend troubles?” Glatt asked, still attempting to pick up the cigarette.

He chuckled slightly, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it. “Is there a word for rivals with benefits and estranged fiance troubles?” He asked.

“Flatty patty troubles.” Schlatt answered, giving up on grabbing the floor cig.

“Right, yeah.” He laughed, blowing out smoke.

“Who are you talking to, baby?” Sapnap excitedly ran to the balcony.

“Gl—” He turned to where Glatt was standing, only to find nobody there. “Nevermind.”

Sapnap decided not to question it, he’s always known that Quackity’s always been a bit unhinged, maybe tonight he’s just fully fucking lost it. He doesn’t care, and moves to kiss him anyway.

Quackity smiled into the kiss, and he looped his arms behind Sapnap’s neck. He pulled back to speak after a moment, “you and Wilbur finally came to an agreement?” He asked.

“Of course,” Sapnap answered with a smile, kissing him again.

“NO THE FUCK WE DIDN’T!” Wilbur yelled from down the hall after a loud thump, presumably him falling on the ground, power walking towards them with his cock out and about.

“Oh my fucking god,” Quackity groaned and promptly pulled away from Sapnap. “You guys are fucking unbelievable. You know what? Neither of you are getting laid unless you come to an agreement.” He said, going back to smoking his cigarette.

Sapnap scoffed at this, turning to look at Wilbur. “Way to cockblock me, man.” He complained, crossing his arms.

“Oh, please, no way he was gonna have sex with you either way.” Wilbur replied, shoving him lightly.

“Like you know him at all,” Sapnap shoved back.

“Don’t fucking touch me, bitch.” Wilbur yelled and retaliated by shoving him hard with both of his arms, pushing him against the railing.

“You have a lot of fucking nerve, don’t you?” Sapnap replied aggressively, Quackity cutting between the two of them before Sapnap could retaliate further and get shoved over the edge and fucking die.

“Okay, that’s it, get out of my house.” Quackity grabbed both of them roughly by the ear like the latin mother he is and threw them into the house. “Fuck off. Fuck off now. Both of you.” He walked away from them just to try to open the front door to let them out.

“Sapnap did you kick my door down?” Quackity asked when he found the front door on the floor.

“yes” he answered sheepishly.

Quackity could only sigh at this, dragging the two of them by the arms and throwing them past the doorframe of what used to be his front door.

“If I had a door I’d slam it right now.” He said aggressively, promptly smacking the doorframe with his hand and walking away.

The two horny men sat on the floor silently, not exactly sure of what to do now.

“Sap, do you have any clothes?” Wilbur the naked man asked, eyeing the man's clothes.

“Goodbye, Soot.” Sapnap said, and quickly left in fear of his clothes being stolen by the naked man.

“Rude,” Wilbur said to nobody but himself.

Because he’s a shameless man, he decides to leave without his clothes anyway. An unfortunate thing for all the people in Las Nevadas.

After “slamming the door” on his sex buddies, Quackity went back to his bedroom and threw himself back on the bed with an exhausted groan.

“Long night?” Glatt appeared again, this time on the foot of the bed.

“Ugh, Schlatt, please just fuck me. I miss having normal sex.” Quackity whined, burying his face in his hands in an attempt to get the headache to go away.

“The fuck are you still fucking them for?? Dumbass.” Glatt questioned questionably.

“Because I’m a horny little bitch Schlatt I thought you knew this” Quackity answered, sitting up cross-legged to look at Glatt directly. “Now please just fuck me, regularly. With regular lube, and with regular cock.”

“Dude I can't, I've got a ghostdick.” He replied, to Quackity’s disappointment.

“Fuck off, then.” He said, laying back down.

It was silent for a while, and when he looked up again, Glatt was gone.

Seeing all of his sexual partners out of his home, he decided to just go back to sleep and get fucked tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Tomorrow came and he was very ready to get fucked.

By his sexual partners, that is, not by life.

Though life was pretty much always ready to fuck with him.

He woke up, got ready for work as usual, tried to ignore the fact his window is nothing but shards of glass on the carpet, and went out his would-be front door.

His regular commute to work passed this very sketchy bar that he would never ever visit. He didn’t even build the place, it just kinda showed up and he didn’t bother getting rid of it.

And for it being 7 in the morning, there sure were a lot of people very very drunk in there.

Beside the bar was a proportionally sketchy alleyway with close to no lighting whatsoever, the strong scent of weed, and Wilbur Soot.

Wait.

“Quackityyyyyyy!” Wilbur Soot greeted very happily, now thankfully already wearing clothes. Though, it’s still a disgusting trench coat. Quackity doesn’t know where it came from.

Somehow it’s even more disgusting.

“Wilbur what the fuck are you doing here?” Quackity questioned, looking around at the daydrinkers and criminals around them.

“Smoking weed :)” He smiled, showing a blunt in his hand.

“Did you roll a blunt with cash, Wilbur?” Quackity asked, pointing at the blunt.

“Sure did, $100 bill.” He replied cheerfully, still smoking his $100 bill with marjuana in it.

“You fucking idiot.” Quackity whispered, mostly to himself.

“Anyways,” Wilbur dropped the half burnt $100 blunt on the ground and stepped on it, effectively wasting a lot of weed and money. “Let’s go. Take off your pants.” He said nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t ordering the president to strip down and have sex with him in a sketchy alleyway at 7am in the morning.

“Okay, but like, right here, right now?” Quackity asked, still looking around hesitantly.

“We’ve got a perfectly good alley to use, and Sapnap’s not here to fight me on this, so I don’t see why not.” Wilbur reasoned, making a surprising amount of sense to Quackity.

“But there’s people around.”

“And they’re all smoking weed.” Wilbur mentioned.

“That doesn’t make it better. At all.”

“Sure it does. If you’re smoking weed you’ve gotta be somewhat fucking stupid and horny. I doubt they’d mind.” He continued, oddly being smarter than usual.

“Wilbur I smoke weed :]”

Wilbur decided it would be best to shut up right fucking now before Quackity changes his mind and walks away and doesn’t have sex with him. So instead he does the smart idea of dragging Quackity by the shirt collar and kissing him very roughly and pinning him to the alley wall.

Quackity pulled away slightly to speak. “You taste like really shitty weed.” He commented.

“Is it hot?” He asked.

“Yes lol” Quackity went back to kissing his weed fuckbuddy.

Wilbur shoved his tongue into the president’s mouth, making him moan very loudly and pornographically.

Upon hearing that, Wilbur pulled away to comment on his hornyness. “Sheesh someone’s eager as fuck.”

“I haven’t had sex in a long time okay you can’t blame me.” Quackity replied.

“It’s been two days, Quackity.” Wilbur told him.

“...Aah~?” Quackity replied hesitantly, hoping to change the subject to Having Sex.

Wilbur went back to kissing him roughly and undoing his pants because he too is horny as shit.

“Lube?” Quackity asked, already knowing the answer would be no.

“Yogurt” He replied, pulling out a small plastic cup of strawberry-flavored greek yogurt. Eh, it’s close enough to cum anyways, so what’s the worst that can happen?

Wilbur opened the cup of greek yogurt, complete with strawberry chunks and everything, and dumped it on his cock while Quackity was taking his own pants off. The two of them only paused and stared at the ground as a large chunk of the yogurt fell off of Wilbur’s cock and straight to the dirty ground.

Seeing this, Wilbur slowly bent down and grabbed the chunk off the dirty ground and put it back on his penis, much to Quackity’s dismay.

“God my cock must taste amazing right now” Wilbur commented somewhat loudly, watching the yogurt start sliding off his dick again.

“Wilbur could you please keep your voice down, we’re in a public space.” Quackity replied, turning around and bending over and showing his ass to wilbur becuase he’s a slut or something.

“Mm yummy dick” Wilbur said before thrusting his yummy yogurty penis in the not so yummy and yogurty ass without warning.

Because of the sudden yogurt inside his ass, Quackity, naturally, moaned loud enough that the people inside the bar could hear him and were probably staring off in his general direction. For a man who just told a guy to keep his voice down, he clearly wasn’t doing a great job at that himself.

Imagine with me, if you will, you’re drinking at a bar at 7 in the morning, and suddenly out of nowhere you hear a muffled “AH~! God, fuck me yogurt man~!! Hobodaddy, ah~!!” moaned very loudly through the walls.

And you recognize the voice as the president’s.

So wilbur keeps fucking him very hard, the yogurt not at all helping with making the scene less strange and vile for any poor innocent bystanders that had to witness that.

“I bet you’ve never had this much yogurt in your ass before,” Wilbur commented, harshly fucking the president deep in the ass. And he would be right, Quackity’s never had any yogurt in his ass before.

An added bonus of using strawberry flavored greek yogurt as lube was that, for Quackity, he could feel the slices of strawberry rubbing up against the insides of his ass.

He felt as if he was taking a reverse shit with the food coming in through his ass instead of his mouth, but hopefully not his shit coming out of his mouth and out of his ass. And for some reason he thoroughly enjoyed it. Like actually he was very close to coming.

A few people stopped to stare, possibly because this part of Las Nevadas was filled with mostly drunks and sex addicts and those guys love to watch, but practically all of them left after a few seconds due to the strange hobo things Quackity was loudly moaning and the sight of greek yogurt dripping from his ass.

With the white-ish substance in his ass, Quackity let out a different white-ish substance from his dick with the absolute most lewd moan ever, onto the brick wall, wilbur doing the same into his ass shortly after.

He pulled out, surprisingly remembering to, yogurt dripping from his cock and even more dripping out the president’s ass. “Well,” he sighed. “I’ll surely be adding that to my menu.”

Quackity stood there for a moment, regaining his strength and standing upright. “What, yogurt hotdogs?” He asked, still breathing very heavily.

“Yogurt cumdogs.” Wilbur replied, pulling his pants back up.

“Oh dear god.” Quackity said to himself, also pulling his pants back up, but with a mild struggle. “You know what? I’m not gonna stop you.” He continued, feeling the cum and yogurt awkwardly leak out of his ass and onto his underwear.

Wilbur smiled for a bit, seeming genuinely warmed by his words. “Thank you for supporting me and my aspirations, Quackity.” He said, pulling him into a rough hug.

Being very touch starved and not really having the strength to do anything about it, Quackity let it happen.

“Well, I’ll be on my way to work now,” Quackity said when Wilbur didn’t let go of him after an unreasonable amount of time.

“Right, yeah, capitalism.” Wilbur let go of him, walking with him out of the alley. “I’ll see you soon?” He asked.

“For sure,”

And they went their separate ways.

Chapter Text

Quackity limped his way through the city streets, feeling the slick yogurt and cum leak out of his ass while he walked. It really was a horrible idea, and he wonders if it was even worth it.

He got pretty good alley sex for the price of extremely uncomfortable walking and public humiliation.

About a block or two away from the alley, he reached a park. He hated the outdoors, but for some reason this park was built as the only way to get to his office without a car, so he went through it anyway.

He saw other people enjoying the outdoors. People jogging, people picnicking, people biking, people feeding ducks, shirtless people jogging past him and looking like Sapnap.

Wait no that’s Sapnap.

He turned around and called out to him. “Sapnap?”

The shirtless man stopped and turned around to look at him, definitely being Sapnap.

“Hey, good morning, Quackity.” He said cheerfully, pulling him close and kissing him on the cheek. “You look…” Sapnap paused to look Quackity up and down for a moment, noticing his really messy hair, his messy clothes, and what totally isn’t cum and yogurt dripping at his shoes. “...good.” He tried to compliment, but it didn’t sound that genuine.

“Thanks,” Quackity said, clearly sensing the ungenuine tone in his voice. “What are you doing around here? I thought you went back to Kinoko already,” he asked.

“Oh, I thought I’d stay for another day. There’s so much to do around here.” He smiled.

“And you decide to go for a jog?”

“Mhm,”

The two were silent for a moment, trying to find something else to say to each other.

It really has been a long time since they’ve had a moment alone.

“So, Kinoko?” Quackity asked.

“Yeah… Yeah, it’s going well. It’s great. You need to come by sometime, you’re always welcome.” Sapnap answered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Quackity was a bit hesitant, seeing as he never even got an invite to Kinoko, but only said a small “mhm,”.

Another block of silence. And this time Sapnap considered just walking off, but Quackity spoke up again.

“You should stay in Las Nevadas longer. I haven’t gotten the chance to give you a proper tour.” He said.

“But Karl told me to be home by tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Quackity looked away from him. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen Karl.” He said.

“I’m sure he misses you too, Quackity.” Sapnap said as he pulled him close to kiss him again, this time a bit more French.

The kiss got very passionate very quickly, Quackity moaning against it and scaring off any people in the vicinity.

Quackity stopped moaning for a moment to pull away and speak. “Wait, Sap, we’re in public.” He said, despite the fact he’d just been railed in the alley of a public and somewhat crowded street literally less than an hour ago. “Should we go somewhere more private?” He asked.

“I know a place,” Sapnap answered gleefully, taking Quackity by the arm and dragging him across the park.

The place turned out to be, drumroll please…
“A bush?”

“A rose bush, yes.”

Quackity shrugged. Out of all the places he’s had sex, this would be by far one of the least strange and disgusting. “Alright,” was all he said before he went back to Being French and licking his fiance’s mouth.

Fiance, in turn, pushed him into the rose bushes, definitely cutting them both slightly with thorns.

Quackity eagerly undid his pants, pulling them off and throwing them somewhere, sapnap reaching into his own pants for something.

“Oh my god what happened to your ass??” Sapnap asked upon seeing the strawberry slices leaking out.

“Uh…” Quackity’s mind lagged a bit, trying to come up with a sensible excuse as to why he was basically shitting out strawberries. “I had sex with Wilbur?” He hesitantly told him.

sapnap stopped being worried and instead started snickering slightly to himself. “He still thinks he’s better than me?” He said passive aggressively.

“I mean, probably, yeah.”

“I’ll fucking show him.” Sapnap said with a concerning amount of determination, flicking open a bottle of lube from his pockets.

“Sap, you brought lube on your morning jog? Wh—” Quackity was quickly interrupted by a very long and loud lewd moan as he felt something slick thrust very deeply in his yogurty ass and start fucking him without any regards to the fact they were in a public place and people could definitely hear them loud and clear.

At first he assumed it was Sapnap’s fingers and didn’t bother questioning it, just moaning very loudly (this time normal things that don’t start with hobo), but after a while he realized it was a bit too long and stiff to be his partner’s fingers, or cock, or literally any other body part.

“God, Ah! Sapnap, what are you fucking me with~??” He asked through his very loud and incoherent moaning.

“Stick.” He simply answered, not at all slowing down the rate at which he was jamming a stick into his supposed future husband.

“L-like tree stick???”

“Obviously,” he scoffed. “I bet you like this so much better than Wilbur.” Sapnap the competitive bastard said.

“Oh, stickdaddy!!” He moaned as he came all over his work clothes and all over the poor bush.

“????? please never call me that again????” Sapnap said, hurriedly pulling the stick out and throwing it far far away out of fear.

“Whatever you say, stickfather~” Quackity said in his half-fucked-out dazed state.

“Oh my god please no quackity” He begged with absolute genuine fear.

Chapter Text

Quackity struggled to catch his breath after the rough sticking he just endured from his beloved fiance. Being honest, he probably could've just laid there for the rest of the day waiting for his legs to get back to working, because his body was starting to physically reject all the shit he's doing to it. And it wouldn't even matter if he didn't show up to work. After all, he's the fucking president what are they gonna do, fire him??

Unfortunately god had other plans because it just started raining right then and there.

Like pouring rain.

"Oh, fuck." Sapnap muttered, scrambling out of the bushes and definitely getting himself scratched on the thorns again.

Quackity was about to protest, until he found his previously discarded pants thrown back to him from outside the bushes.

He hurriedly put them back on, struggling to get out of the bushes with the thorns also scratching his skin, along with the splinters of the stick scratching deep inside his ass.

When he got himself out of the bushes, he found sapnap standing there and waiting for him. Sapnap then grabbed his wrist and started fucking running, dragging him behind.

He looked around and realized the closest shelter around would be his office building. Great he's being forced into work.

Sapnap didn't seem to have any sense of direction, because quackity found the two of them just running around aimlessly very fast. So, he pointed to the general direction of his office and sapnap started running very fast in the correct direction.

Soon enough they got to the building lobby absolutely soaked.

The good news was now nobody could really see the cum stains on his clothes.

Bad news was he was drenched from head to toe.

Other bad news was that he was definitely starting to feel his legs and ass aching like never before.

"Quackity from Las Nevadas!" He heard from across the room. Now he really has to work.

"Slime," he feigned a smile. What does a man have to do to get out of work for one day to rest his tired tired ass. "Morning,"

"Quackity from Las Nevadas, you smell like cum." He said embarrassingly loudly. Oh my god when will he stop being publicly humiliated.

Sapnap chuckled to himself, catching Quackity's attention.

"Sapnap, do you not have a shirt?" Quackity asked, staring at his bare hunky chest.

"Nope."

"Fuck,"

"What? Is it making you wanna fuck me again, Quackity?" Sapnap asked.

"No, it's- um-" Quackity tried to answer, but was interrupted by an even hunkier man grabbed sapnap by the shoulder and started dragging him away.

"Sir I'm going to need to forcefully remove you from the premises." The security guy said.

"Wha? Why?" Sapnap asked.

"We don't allow weird shirtless men around the president." He answered.

"But I'm his fiance," sapnap protested, turning to Quackity for help. "Tell him, baby."

"Yeah, he's-" Quackity tried to tell him to leave sapnap alone, but was cut off.

"Happy to be of service to you, Mr president." The security guard said, dragging sapnap away anyways without listening to what Mr president had to say.

"I'll see you next time, Quackity!" Sapnap yelled as he was being dragged away.

Quackity was too stunned to speak and only muttered a "yeah" to himself.

"Quackity from Las Nevadas, you've got a shitton of paperwork to do! Better get to fucking work!" Slime beamed cheerfully.

Recently, quackity started teaching him how to swear. So far he's been swearing in nearly every sentence, but quackitys holding out hope that he'll grow out of it.

"Yes, slime. I'm aware." He said, walking past him into the elevators and pressing a button. "I'll be in my office."

"Okay, Quackity from Las Ne-fucking-vadas!" Was the last thing he heard before the doors shut and the elevator started moving.

And now he was left alone with his own thoughts, no big dumb himbo fucking the thoughts away from his head.

Though he was slightly glad the big dumb himbos are gone, especially since his ass burned like hell. Who knew a combo of cock, strawberry yogurt, and a splintery stick would fuck up his ass that badly. Not to mention the fact he was still absolutely dripping with rainwater. And according to Slime, he smelled like cum.

He's definitely gonna have to clean off in the bathroom.

And so he did.

He got to his floor and went straight to the bathroom, not even bothering with going to his office first. He locked the door behind him to ensure nobody would walk in on him cleaning yogurt, cum, and leaves out of his asshole. He went into one of the stalls, taking his pants off entirely and grabbing a few squares of toilet paper.

He started with just cleaning the stuff already leaking out of his asshole, throwing the slices of strawberry clinging onto his thighs into the toilet bowl to flush later on, but quickly realized he's gonna be leaking yogurt and cum all day long unless he cleaned it all out now.

So, he sat down on the toilet seat, and much like he did back when he first fucked Wilbur, he sticks the fingers of his right hand up his ass to try to clean it out.

"Mm aah~!" He started moaning to himself, for some reason enjoying this. He prodded around searching for foreign objects left in his asshole and pulled out maybe one or two stray strawberry slices and splinters with a lot of difficulty, since he was now struggling to not just start moaning lewd things and cum all over himself in the bathroom stall of his office. "Oh, daddy~!!" He closed his eyes and moaned anyway, probably loud enough for the people outside the bathroom to hear.

"Need help, pumpkin?" He hears from right outside his stall, causing him to open his eyes and stop moving entirely.

He sees the legs of a man standing right in front of his stall, probably leaning onto the stall door.

He recognizes the voice. "Schlatt?"

"Again, it's Glatt now." He answered.

"What are you doing here?" Quackity asked, still not daring to move his fingers even a millimeter in fear he’d start nutting all over himself while having a conversation with his dead ex husband.

"Well why wouldn't I be here?" Glatt said, casually phasing through the stall door as if it was nothing.

"Are you gonna help, then?"

"I cant. Ghost hands." Glatt replied, showing his ghost hands.

"So why even be here?"

"I came to watch." He grinned, Quackity staring at him.

With a deep sigh of consideration, quackity broke eye contact with Glatt and started half-fucking himself again, still with the goal of "cleaning up".

Seeing this, Glatt leaned back onto the stall door, crossing his arms and watching him intently.

"Mmh, fuck~! Mm, those guys are dumbasses, you know?" He started some sort of small talk through his poorly muffled moans, despite the fact that the situation of him being in an office bathroom stall with the ghost of his ex husband with his fingers in his ass is not regularly a situation that calls for small talk.

"I can tell. What'd they do to you? I just saw a strawberry drop from your ass." Schlatt peered his head forward to get a bit of a better view.

"Wilbur used strawberry yogurt as lube." Quackity sighed.

He opened his mouth, seemingly to make a comment, but decided against it. "What's with the leaves in your beanie?" Schlatt asked.

Quackity used his idle hand to reach up into his beanie, finding that, in fact, it had twigs and leaves tangled into it.

"Sapnap fucked me in a park bush." Quackity continued, trying to take his focus away from the hand currently prodding in his ass right now. "Ah, my god~!! Schlatt~!" He could not ignore the hand currently prodding in his ass right now and kept moaning lewdly, this time moaning Schlatt’s name into the mix for some reason.

"Did you have a good morning, then?" He completely ignored his moans in favor of having a chill and casual conversation.

Quackity didnt reply for a moment, slowing his hands to think of a response. "I miss you." He finally said, looking schlatt in the eyes, speeding up his movements again for some godforsaken reason and again poorly muffling his moans.

"I'm here right now, pumpkin." He said, shifting his position slightly.

"I-I mean I miss fucking you." Quackity corrected. "It's been a while since I had normal sex in a normal location with normal dick and normal lube."

Again, it looked like he was about to comment, but decided against it again. "Well, you'd have to revive me first." Glatt started, shrugging. "We both know it's possible, seeing as, you know, yogurt boy is walking out and about now."

Quackity slowed down his "cleaning" again. "Are you asking me to revive you, schlatt?" He asked hesitantly.

Glatt shrugged. "I'd repay you in more ways than one."

"How though? I don't know how to revive people." Quackity said, stopping his hand completely.

"Dream probably knows."

Quackity gave it a moment of consideration. This was a decision he shouldn't be making on the toilet, less so with his fingers deep in his ass. "I'll try my best." He decided anyways.

Glatt reached out his right arm for a handshake to make it official, causing Quackity to have to pull his own hand out his ass to accept it.

"Deal." Schlatt said, doing a firm handshake motion despite the fact he had absolutely no grip on Quackity's hand.

"Deal." He also did a firm handshake motion with his disgusting hand despite the fact Schlatt's hand phased through his.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Quackity." Was the last thing schlatt said to him before vanishing into thin air.

And so it was settled. Quackity would try to revive his ex husband just so that he could get some good and normal sex.

Quackity looked at his cum and yogurt slicked hand, now very much not in the mood to continue fucking himself in a bathroom stall. So he flushed the toilet, put on his dripping wet pants, and licked his fingers clean.

He regretted it immediately.

Chapter Text

Since that conversation in the bathroom, Quackity’s been working near nonstop to try and get Dream to revive Schlatt. He’s built this elaborate plan of daily torture to finally get Dream to crack. So far he’s gotten nothing.

It’s been three days since that conversation, and he hasn’t had sex since.

A fucking miracle.

It’s not like he had any time to have sex anyways, who knew reviving a dead ex husband could take up so much of your time.

Though, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been thinking about sex.

He’s been waiting the entire time for either Wilbur or Sapnap, hell even Schlatt, to break into his office and sweep off all the important crucial documents he has on his desk and fuck him with reckless abandon. Of course, as long as Schlatt’s a ghost, he’d have to do the fucking himself, but the thought of him watching was good enough.

God he was horny and pent-up.

He was busy drinking yet another glass of whiskey and doodling on his Torture Dream Calendar when he heard a knock on the door.

Must be Slime.

He has yet to grow out of his swearing phase and Quackity’s worrying it’s becoming permanent.

“Come in,” he yells at the door, not looking up from his penis calendar doodle.

The door opened and to his surprise, Sapnap was standing there.

“Sapnap,” he put his penis-drawing pen down on the desk, staring directly at Sapnap.

“Hey, Quackity.” He said cheerfully, closing and locking the door behind him and walking to Quackity’s desk.

Oh, hell yeah.

He’s gonna get laid.

“What are you doing here?” Quackity asked, praying the answer would be “you”.

“Iiiii dunno,” he replied, hopefully sarcastically.

God how Quackity hoped he was being sarcastic.

“Are you doing anything important?” Sapnap asked, circling around the desk to stand next to Quackity, looking at the little “>:]” doodles his fiance had on his calendar. It was very cute, seeing his fiance procrastinate his important work in favor of making tiny little drawings in a calendar, but he was mildly concerned at the fact that said calendar had “TORTURE DREAM” written over and over in bold red marker every single day for what was at least a month.

“...not exactly” Quackity put his hands over his calendar to keep Sapnap from being able to read what it said.

Sapnap, thankfully, decided to ignore the fact his fiance had scheduled to torture his best friend on his calendar every single day. “Good,” he said, grabbing Quackity’s jaw and bending down slightly to kiss Quackity.

Hell yeahhhhhh. Getting laid tonighttttttt.

Quackity smiled into the kiss, grabbing at Sapnap’s waist to try to pull him closer.

Sapnap broke away from the kiss to speak, “so, you wanna create love or something?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Dont phrase it like that please” Quackity replied. “But yes sure I’d like to manufacture some sex.” He said, getting up from his seat to lean back on his desk.

Sapnap seemed to get the memo and did the age-old trope of sweeping everything off of his desk to make room for the hot hot extreme hard kinky pleasurable sex they were gonna have. The thing is he also knocked Quackity’s expensive lamp, half filled glass of whiskey, and laptop off, earning a disgruntled look from Quackity.

But it’s fine because he picked him up and threw him on the desk so hard he forgot all about it.

“Lube?” Quackity asked, praying this time the answer will finally be yes.

“Yes.”

YESSSS.

Dear God he’s never been so horny for Sapnap before.

Sapnap went off to the side for a moment to pick up something off the ground, something Quackity hoped was one of his very important documents.

He quickly realized it was a pair of scissors.

Alright his partner’s big on safety and not stepping on scissors and all that.

“Strip.” Sapnap commanded. He didn’t know what it was about Sapnap but goddamn was his cock solid.

And because he’s such a slut for this big dumbass himbo, he did as he was told and took off all his clothes and threw them to the side along with his important president papers. Along with that he also spread his legs because he’s an eager little shit that hasn’t gotten laid in 3 days and is now hornier than ever.

His partner pulled out a bottle of lube from his pocket as per usual, flicking the cap open, and started spreading the lube on the pair of scissors.

????

Seeing this, Quackity immediately un-spread his legs, shutting them as tightly as possible because why else would Sapnap be lubing up a pair of scissors while he was buttass naked.

“Sapnap, baby, what are you doing???” He asked very fearfully.

“Lubing up the scissors?” He replied, seemingly not understanding the cause of his partner’s fear.

“Why??”

“So that it’ll feel good??”

“How would a pair of scissors in my ass ever feel good???” Quackity got more concerned.

“I don’t know, isn’t this what lesbians do?” Sapnap replied concerningly.

Quackity couldn’t reply, just looked at him all confused and waited for him to elaborate.

“Scissoring, you know, lesbians and stuff.” He finally elaborated, the pieces finally clicking in Quackity’s head.

“Sap, that’s not what it means.” He said.

“It’s not?”

“The furthest thing from it.”

“What is it, then?”

Quackity took a moment to consider, not actually really knowing because he’s a gay man who’s never learned jackshit about lesbian sex. “Uhhhhhhhhhhhh”

“See, you won’t know until you try it.” Sapnap tried to reason, snipping the scissors together.

“Well I know it doesn’t involve inserting pairs of scissors into your partner, Sapnap.” He said.

“So you don’t want this in your ass?” Sapnap asked for confirmation, looking at the very lubed-up pair of very sharp scissors.

“Absolutely not, Sap.” Quackity answered with utmost certainty. He’s into some real kinky shit but that’s like a whole new level of fucked up.

Sapnap sighed, putting the pair of slippery scissors on the desk. “How ‘bout a blowjob, then?” He asked.

Quackity shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t see why not.” He said, hopping off his table and sitting back on his chair, spreading his legs again now that he doesn’t have to fear being stabbed in the ass with a pair of scissors.

He rolled his chair closer to the desk, and gestured for Sapnap to get down.

“I was thinking the other way ‘round but okay.” Sapnap the submissive and breedable fiance he is, got down on his knees under the desk and started sucking on his definitely not-submissive-and-breedable fiance’s dick.

“Oh, stickdaddy~!” Quackity looked down under his desk and moaned, still sticking (haha) with the nickname.

Sapnap would’ve definitely told him to stop calling him that if it weren’t for the fact his mouth was full of penis right now.

He looked up for a moment, only to see the man, the myth, the legend, JSchlatt sitting at the other end of his desk. “Ah, Sch—daddy~!!!” He moaned, trying to not make it seem obvious that he was currently hallucinating the ghost of his ex husband while getting sucked off by his current husband-to-be.

“Hey, flatty patty~” Dead ex husband cooed, sitting down at one of the chairs. “What’cha doing?”

“Mmh~ Sapnap!” He moaned and answered the question at the same time. What a smart man, he’s multitasking.

“I’ll be here watching if that’s good with you.” Schlatt said, kicking his ghost feet up onto the desk. “You having a good time?”

He nodded, not wanting to directly answer the question in fear that his partner will think he’s gone fucking insane.

Suddenly, Sapnap gagged and pulled off his cock, choking to death and stuff.

“Oh my god sapnap are you okay” he asked, looking back under the desk to find his fiance coughing his lungs out.

He heard a loud slam, causing him to look up at the door. “Quackityyyyyyyy” Said Wilbur, who was now inside of his office.

Hearing that, Sapnap decided to just stop choking.

He could’ve sworn he saw Sapnap locked the door.

“Wilbur,” he said.

When he wished for his sexual partners to come over and fuck him, he didn’t mean all at once.

“I was gonna tell you to take your clothes off but it seems you’ve already done that.” Wilbur said, looking him up and down. He hasn’t noticed the man sucking Quackity off yet, thankfully. “Eager, aren’t you?” He teased.

“Sure a—aaah~” He moaned as he saw Sapnap going back to sucking his dick at the most inconvenient time ever.

“Wow I haven’t even touched you and you’re already moaning.” Wilbur seemed really proud of himself.

“Look at this dumbass.” Schlatt said, knowing full well only Quackity could see or hear him.

“Hhm~ mhm~!” He tried to reply, being in a very odd and awkward situation now.

“Say, have you seen Sapnap around?” Wilbur said while casually unbuckling his pants.

Sapnap pulled himself off Quackity’s cock for a moment to speak. Quackity tried to shut him up but he spoke anyway. “You’ve come to the right place, Soot.”

Wilbur looked dumbfounded, staring at Quackity’s table with a concerned look on his face.

Schlatt, on the other hand, was taking advantage of being invisible and absolutely just cackling at the situation Quackity’s gotten himself into.

“Quackity, your table’s speaking.” Wilbur said, causing Schlatt to go even further into his laughing fit.

“Wh— no, Wilbur, it’s Sapnap.” Quackity said, pulling Sapnap up from his knees to show him.

Wilbur was silent for a bit, the gears in his brain starting to turn just a little. “Ohhhhhhh,”

Schlatt, at this point, was squatting on the ground with his head in his hands trying to regain his composure.

“So we’re doing this again?” Wilbur asked, clearly trying to start a fight.

“You’re already late, Wilbur. I have my turn.” Sapnap replied.

“That’s not how it works.” Wilbur said, crossing his arms angrily.

“So how does it work?”

“I show up, and I get to have sex with Quackity.”

“What about me?”

“You leave,”

Sapnap scoffed, the fucking audacity. “Fine, then. Let’s ask Quackity.” He turned to Quackity. “Who’s it gonna be?”

Quackity let out a long sigh, burying his face in his hands. “Don’t make me do this again.” He said.

Schlatt stood up, circling behind the desk to stand right beside Quackity. “Oh, come on, make it interesting.” He said, also crossing his arms.

Quackity sighed again, deciding to take Schlatt’s advice. “Fine, Wilbur.”

“WOO!” Wilbur cheered, continuing to unbuckle his pants without any consideration for the fact Sapnap was still standing there.

Sapnap looked at Quackity with disbelief, stuttering out an incoherent protest.

“You can fuck off now, Sapnap.” Wilbur said, circling around the table and pulling Quackity into a rough kiss. He roughly pulled away for a moment, “permanently,” he added before going back to the passionate kissing.

Sapnap gave up on finding a coherent sentence and walked away to the open door. “Fuck you, Quackity.” Was the last thing he said before slamming the door shut and leaving the two, well three, alone.

“Mm— did you bring lube?” Quackity pulled away to ask, already knowing the answer would be no.

Wilbur reached in his trenchcoat pocket and pulled out a big bottle of hot sauce.

“No, no no no no. No no. No way in hell.” Quackity protested, crossing his leg one over the other to keep Wilbur from being able to fuck hot sauce into his ass. Again, he’s a kinky motherfucker that’s into some fucked up shit but this is just off limits to him.

Wilbur scoffed, putting the bottle of hot sauce back in his pocket. He pulled out another equally big bottle. “Ketchup?” He asked.

Quackity groaned, putting his head in his hands. After a moment’s consideration, he wordlessly got up, kicked off his pants, and bent over his desk. “Alright.” He said unenthusiastically.

He didn’t want to see what the fuck Wilbur was doing, so he just stood there anticipating the painful and burning sensation in his ass to come anytime now.

“Okay, what about mayonnaise, then?” Wilbur asked, sensing the fact Quackity wasn’t happy with having ketchup being fucked into his ass.

Quackity shrugged, looking behind only to see Wilbur pull out yet another bottle from his pocket. How he has that much room in his pocket just for condiments Quackity doesn’t know. He’s given up on expecting normal options for lube. “I don’t see why not,”

Wilbur pulled his cock out and popped the bottle open, pouring a sizable amount on his dick, Quackity turning away again.

“Ah~!! Hobodaddy~!”

“Quackity,” he heard Schlatt’s voice. “Quackity!” He yelled, effectively waking him up.

Wait what?

“Hm? Huh?” Quackity grumbled, looking around at his office. His Wilbur Soot-less office. “The fuck?” He muttered.

“Stop having sex dreams and get back to reviving me, bitch.” Said Glatt, standing beside his desk.

Oh, for fucks sake, it was a dream.

He looked at the small digital clock on his desk. 5 AM.

“Schlatt, you couldn’t have let me sleep just a bit longer?” He asked, voice still gravelly from sleep. “I’ve been up for days.”

“Why? Was Hobodaddy getting to the good part?” He replied sarcastically, crossing his arms.

Quackity paused for a moment, his sleepy brain trying to process a basic thought. “Oh god I said that out loud didn’t I?” He buried his face in his hands.

“Yeah,”

He let out a long sigh, pulling his hands away from his face to look at Glatt for a moment.

Without a word, he got up from his chair and walked past Glatt.

“Hey, wait, where are you going?” He asked, following him.

“To jack off,”

Chapter Text

Quackity went to the office bathroom, Schlatt gladly following close behind him.

Once again, he locked the door, went inside a stall, and locked the stall door.

And once again, he undid his pants and sat down on the toilet.

“So, I’m assuming you’re very horny and pent up,” Schlatt said, watching as Quackity spat on his hand and licked two of his fingers.

“Oh, was it that fucking obvious, Schlatt?” Quackity replied sarcastically with a bitterness in his tone, spreading his legs open and moving his hand down to his ass.

“Okay, wait,” Glatt grabbed his wrist, despite his hand not being able to grip anything.

It’s the thought that counts.

Quackity stilled his hand at this, wanting to listen to him before he shoved his hand up his ass and fucked himself senseless.

“I get the sense you’re not too happy with me right now.” He said, getting Quackity to look up at him.

Quackity scoffed. “You get the sense, hm?” he said, rolling his eyes out of spite and going back to moving his hand, not wanting to hear more of what the bitch had to say. “So sorry I gave you that impression.” He said, a lot of anger behind his words.

“Quackity,” Schlatt tried to reason with him, but he was now a bit preoccupied with the fingers now in his ass.

“Mhm~?” He moaned, rolling his eyes again but this time from pleasure, chewing on his lip to stop himself from downright screaming ‘harder, daddy~’ in the office bathroom. He wanted to keep at least some of his dignity.

“I never asked you to revive me,” he reasoned, moving away from him slightly to give him much needed space to masturbate. “So really you can’t be too mad at me here.”

Quackity stilled his fingers just so that he could stop moaning to scoff again. “You haven’t let me sleep for days, Schlatt.” He breathed out, definitely trying his best to not moan at the very very still fingers shoved deep in his ass.

“Wh— Yes I have??”

He started moving his fingers again, making everything a lot harder. Especially his dick. Holy shit his dick was extremely hard. “You said— mmh~ ah~!” Quackity moaned out, still stubbornly fucking himself.

“Take your time,” Schlatt said sarcastically, still watching Quackity with a lot of amusement. It’s not every day you get to see your ex-husband fuck himself in the middle of a conversation.

Quackity took a deep breath to maintain at least some composure and to keep himself from cumming during this very important argument. “You said ‘Stop having sex dreams and get back to reviving me, bitch’” He said with great struggle.

“Yeah, and?” Schlatt’s gotta admit, Quackity makes a pretty good point no matter where his fingers are at the moment. Still, he wants to draw out this argument a bit more for the sake of his own pride.

“I’ve been stuck in this dumbass building for—” He cut himself off to let out the most pornographic moan known to man. “Shit~! Fuck, harder, daddy~!!” He moaned loud enough for the janitor outside to be scarred for the rest of his miserable life. “—for f-fucking days~!” He managed to continue.

Schlatt took a moment to piece together the cut up pieces of that one sentence. “C’mon, you go out all the time,” he argued, trying his very best to ignore Quackity’s scream-moans.

“Ah— f-fucking t-ah~ mmh~ n— Fuck~!” He replied incoherently. “I don’t—aah~!” He tried again, still failing.

At this point, Schlatt's wondering how he's not cumming already, with the very loud and pleasured moans he's making and all that.

“Pumpkin, you make all good points, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but could you pull your hand outta your ass for a bit, the moaning’s making this conversation very hard.” He replied, crossing his arms as he usually does.

Quackity sighed, slowing down his fingers to the point he could stop traumatizing the janitor and form a coherent sentence. “I haven’t had sex in like four days, Schlatt, could you please, just let me have this?” He begged.

Schlatt didn’t say anything, just gave him a judging look.

He looked away from him awkwardly. “Schlatt, I—”

“No, you know what, nevermind. Forget what I said, keep going.” Schlatt interrupted, dropping the judgemental look. “You deserve…” He hesitated, looking at his ex-husband’s current state. Sleep-deprived and fingering himself at 5am in an office bathroom. “...this,” he gestured his hand at him.

Quackity sighed, looking back at Schlatt with a faint smile as he went back to finger-fucking himself. “Fuck~ thank you, Schlatt!” He said, not really giving a shit about ‘keeping his dignity’ anymore.

“Yeah, no problem.” He also sighed, watching Quackity fuck himself. Being honest, if he had a functioning dick right now, he’d be fucking Quackity himself.

“h—Aah~ fuck, Schlatt~!” He moaned his name into the mix because why the hell not. It’s not like screaming ‘oh, hobodaddy, harder~!!’ would be any less traumatizing for anyone in the building unlucky enough to have hearing.

If Schlatt had a bloodstream right now, all of it would be going to his dick.

Unfortunately he was dead and a ghost with no blood, so no hard dicks for him.

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take Quackity too long to cum all over himself. Of course accompanied by a moan so loud and pornographic God was probably traumatized.

Schlatt sighed, seemingly unphased. To be fair he’s dealt with Quackity for a long while now, so nothing really new here. He only stood in silence and watched as Quackity tried to catch his breath from the earth-shattering sex he’s just had with… his hand.

After a reasonable amount of time had passed from watching his ex-husband masturbate in a public office bathroom, he spoke up. “Look, I’m sorry, alright?” He said after a moment of consideration. “I shouldn’t be overworking you to death just to revive me. From now on I’ll let you go and fuck your hobodaddy whenever you want, yeah?”

He looked up at Schlatt. “Really?”

“Really. And your stickdaddy too.”

Quackity smiled at him. The first genuine smile he’s given him in a long time. “Thanks, Schlatt.”

“You’re welcome, pumpkin.” He smiled back, the two locking eyes and seemingly falling back in love all over again.

“Well anyways, are you gonna like, keep your fingers in your ass, orrr…?” Schlatt ruined the moment.

“Ah, right. Forgot. It’s—” He quickly pulled his fingers out while biting his lip so as to not go back to full-on moaning again. “It’s a thing I picked up from Wilbur.” He admitted.

Schlatt stared at him for a moment, trying to see if he heard him correctly. “Does Wilbur not pull out?”

“He forgets,” Quackity shrugged as if accidentally leaving your cock in your partner after sex wasn’t the weirdest fucking thing ever.

Schlatt only nods at this, not knowing any other way to express his confusion.

Quackity grabbed a few squares of toilet paper, wiping off his fingering hand and cleaning the cum off of him. “We should do this again sometime,” he said, looking up to Schlatt.

“Maybe not in a public bathroom, but sure.” Schlatt smiled at him, watching him pull his pants back up and phase through him to get to the stall door. “I’ll see you next time, okay?” He said as he heard the stall unlock.

Quackity didn’t look at him as he started to wash his hands at the sink. “Yeah, for sure.”

When Quackity turned back to look at him, he was gone.

Being sexually satisfied for at least a few hours, he decided to go back to his office and pass out on the couch, hopefully continuing the sex dream he had.

He unlocked the bathroom door and saw the old janitor Theodore staring at his mop blankly, definitely traumatized. Maybe considering taking an elevator ride to the rooftop. Whoops.

Chapter Text

“Quackity!”

Quackity turned around to see what familiar voice had called his name.

He gasped when he realized who it was that was running at full speed towards him. "Wilbur!"

"...Quackity" He stopped dead in his tracks just a few steps away from Quackity. "Why are you covered in blood?" He looked him up and down hesitantly.

Quackity looked down at himself, seeing that, indeed, he was fucking drenched in blood.

His dry cleaners absolutely hate him these days.

Either that or they're absolutely terrified.

"Oh, yeah, that…" He tried to wipe some of the blood off his shirt. "I had a visit with Dream," he chuckled, looking up at Wilbur.

"And that's Dream's blood?"

"Yep,"

"Sam let you bring your axe in there?" Wilbur pointed at the prison just a dozen meters to his left.

He noticed his axe was too dripping with blood. "Yeah, I needed it for something."

"To kill Dream?" Wilbur asked, a bit too nonchalant for a man who's just found his sexual partner outside a prison convered in blood.

"No, well, more so to torture Dream. You know, to get him to spill about the book. I've been doing it for a couple days now." He admitted. He wasn't planning on telling anyone about his plan, mainly due to the fact torturing people isn't the nicest thing to do and that most people aren’t a big fan of it, but Wilbur seems like a fucked up kinda guy that wouldn't mind.

"Oh,"

Or maybe he did mind.

He's fucked up but he's never gone as far as to torture a prisoner for personal gain.

"Alright then," he shrugged. "Sex?"

Oh so he doesn't mind.

Quackity was slightly taken aback by how direct he was. "Sure,"

And just like that the conversation turned from then talking about how Quackity was drenched from head to toe in a prisoner's blood to Wilbur tackling and pinning Quackity onto the grass in a hot makeout session.

"Fuck, it's been a really really long time, Wil," Quackity breathed, his dick already as hard as a Nokia phone.

"It's been like four days," Wilbur started taking off his pants.

"Lube?" Why does he even bother asking that question anymore.

"Nope, carbonara sauce"

The fuck

Quackity quickly takes off his bloody pants and throws them off to the side, again spreading his legs like the whore he is to get carbonara sauce fucked into his ass.

Wilbur pulls out a jar of Dolmio carbonara sauce and sticks his dick in it, effectively making it absolutely vile and inedible, but more importantly making his dick very carbonara-y.

He throws the jar off to the side without screwing the lid back on. And he starts screwing Quackity instead.

"Oh— fuck~! Hobodaddy~!" He moaned as the pasta dick fucked him harder than usual. "Oh, harder, hobodaddy~!!" He near screamed.

"Son, how's it feel to be a pasta bowl~?" Wilbur whispered lowly into his ear as if he was saying something really hot and sexy.

"Aah—what the fuck~??" Quackity continued moaning, very much enjoying being a pasta bowl.

"You heard me, how's it feel to be a pasta bowl?" He repeated, dead set on finding out if his sexual partner enjoyed having carbonara sauce in his ass.

"I'm not a pasta bowl~" He moaned loudly, not at all caring he was in a very public place getting fucked on the grass screaming about the fact he isn’t a bowl of pasta.

"Sounds like something a pasta bowl would say," Wilbur said, fucking him harder to try to convince him.

"Fuck~! Fine, fine I'm a pasta bowl, daddy~!!" Quackity said, the hard fucking being very convincing.

Being a horny little shit, it didn't take that long for him to start cumming all over himself, of course with his usual loud obscene moans.

Wilbur pulled out, surprisingly remembering to. Quackity couldn't exactly tell if he'd cum already, or if he was cumming right now, mostly due to the fact that he couldn't really tell the difference between that and the carbonara sauce.

"Wilbur, I—"

"Sam?" Wilbur was looking away from him, instead focused on something else entirely.

Quackity looked at the direction he was looking at, finding that Sam was standing at the prison entrance with a gun in his hand.

He basically looked like the "Mom I threw up" meme but more traumatized.

Wilbur sheepishly moved off of him, pulling up his pants and throwing Quackity's discarded pants back to him.

Quackity caught his pants and put them back on while trying to reason with Sam. "Sam, I didn't know you were there, I—" that was a lie, he definitely knew Sam was in the prison because where else would he be.

"I will never be able to eat spaghetti carbonara ever again." His voice was quivering, staring blankly at Quackity.

"Forget you ever saw that, okay?" Quackity said, stumbling upright.

"I wish I could, Quackity. I wish I could." He said, clearly having an existential crisis.

Chapter Text

“Sapnap!” Quackity called out, chasing after the man across the street.

When he didn’t notice him, Quackity called out again. “Sapnap!”

Still nothing.

Bitch.

He finally caught up to him, gripping him by the shoulder. “Sapnap,” he repeated for the third time as the man turned to look at him.

For a brief moment, Quackity thought he might’ve gotten the wrong person, immediately worrying he’d just yelled at some poor stranger on the street and grabbed them.

“Oh, Quackity!”

The man was indeed Sapnap.

Thank god.

“I was just looking for you,” Sapnap said. “I thought you were at your office.”

“Oh yeah, I was just heading to the…” he wanted to say gay bar, but is that really the thing you say to your previously estranged fiance when you run into him in the street. “The my house.” He lied.

Sapnap stared at him a bit, seemingly not really believing the fact he was going to “the my house”.

“What are you doing around here? I thought Karl wanted you home.” He averted his eyes to the ground for a moment or two, the phrase feeling like a light stab to the heart.

“I just got here, actually. I wanted to see you again.” He smiled.

There was another awkward silence between the two.

Despite being one pastor away from being a married couple, they really didn’t know what to say to each other.

“So, you want to get a tour of Las Nevadas?” Quackity asked, fidgeting with his hands.

“Uh,” Sapnap looked around and started pointing at nearby buildings. “Strip club, casino, bar, large fountain—”

Quackity laughed, noticing that he was in fact correct. “What’s that, then?” He asked, pointing at a stage.

“Strip… stage?”

He thought for a moment, remembering the time he in fact did strip on that stage as part of a tour.

“...Yes,”

“What’s that?” Sapnap pointed at the very tall and useless building.

“Oh, that’s The Needle.”

“It’s nice,”

And again they were quiet, Quackity awkwardly fidgeting with his hands while Sapnap tried to find something else to say about the country.

“You wanna get in there?” Quackity asked, pointing at The Needle.

“For sure,” Sapnap replied enthusiastically.

Quackity walked ahead of him, though Sapnap quickly caught up to him and grabbed his hand, lacing his fingers through the spaces of Quackity’s.

Quackity fought the urge to pull away, instead just shoving his free hand in his pocket.

It was tense between the two, though unspoken.

They walked hand in hand to The Needle and went up the elevator together, something Quackity never imagined would happen in his lifetime.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it much, though. The elevator reached the top floor and it's doors opened.

Quackity went out first, the hand holding his losing its grip and letting him go, though Sapnap still followed close behind him.

“You can see all of Las Nevadas from here,” Quackity said as he dramatically opened the doors to the balcony.

Sapnap was busy looking around the interiors as he was slowly walking to the balcony.

He only looked up because of Quackity’s muffled moan.

Wilbur was there.

More specifically, his tongue was deep in Quackity’s mouth.

By his grip on the back of Quackity’s head, it was clear Wilbur was the one to initiate the kiss. But to Sapnap’s disappointment, Quackity didn’t seem to have any intention of pulling away.

Sapnap just stood there, not exactly knowing what to do in this situation. This was his fiance making out with another man in front of him.

Quackity pulled away after an uncomfortably long time, probably only to breathe. “Wilbur,” He said, his voice out of breath and half coming out as a moan.

“Quackity,” Sapnap said, trying to keep his voice level as possible, trying to remind him of his presence.

“Sap—” He was cut off by Wilbur pulling him back in, oh so clearly trying to make Sapnap as jealous as possible.

Oh, fuck it.

He walked close to the two of them and yanked Wilbur by the hair, forcing him to pull his mouth off of Quackity’s.

“Wilbur.” Sapnap said, his voice sharp.

“Gah—Sapnap—!” Wilbur exclaimed, grabbing at Sapnap’s wrist to try to get him off of his hair. “The fuck?!” He yelled as if he didn’t know why Sapnap was doing this to him.

“Hey! Get off of him, Sap.” Quackity said, firmly grabbing Sapnap’s wrist with one hand and his shoulder with the other.

Sapnap let go after a moment of consideration, Quackity’s hand letting go of him too. If he couldn’t physically assault him, then he’ll just have to use his words. “Bitch,”

“The fuck’s your problem, ass?!” Wilbur spat, combing his hair back into place with his hands.

“You’re fucking making out with the love of my life! In front of me, no less!” Sapnap yelled.

“Yeah? And I’ve fucked him in front of you and you didn’t fucking pull my head off.” Wilbur threatened to step closer and straight up just fucking kill him.

“Love of your life?” Quackity asked, also with an edge in his voice. “You still have the nerve to call me that?”

“You have the nerve to make out with this…” Sapnap tried to find a hurtful name to call Wilbur.

Motherfucker.

Asshole.

Bitch.

Whore.

Smelly homeless man.

“This guy” He couldn’t find a mean word fast enough and settled on guy. The best insult to hurl at someone.

“You listen here, you don’t—” Wilbur tried to continue arguing but was cut off by Quackity.

“Wilbur, take a fucking walk. I need a word with this motherfucker.” Quackity turned to him, his tone more of a command than anything else.

And Wilbur couldn’t find the words to argue back. “Fine,” he said. He turned to face Sapnap. “We’re not done here.” He pointed at him, not giving him time to reply before walking away and slamming the doors behind him, a small click following afterwards.

Quackity closed his eyes and took a deep breath, quietly whispering curses in Spanish. “Sapnap,” he said, trying his very best to keep his voice level. “Why are you doing this to me?” He asked, his voice coming out quieter and shakier than he wanted.

“Doing what?” Sapnap asked, his arms crossed one over the other.

“You— you left me. Then you come back just to fuck things up again.” He said, tears beginning to form in his eyes.

Sapnap wanted to reply, but before he could speak, Quackity spoke again.

“What even are we anymore?” He asked, his voice wavering as they locked eyes.

Sapnap thought over his answer for a considerable time, not wanting to fuck up.

“Fiancés?” Sapnap asked, unsure if he said the right thing.

What else was he supposed to say?

“Yeah, and fiancés leave to start countries without you.” Quackity said, sniffling.

“You did the fucking same, Quackity.” Sapnap was beyond pissed off at this point, but somehow kept his voice from showing that. “Not only that, you cheated on me. On Karl.”

“Don’t say his name.” The first few tears ran down his cheek as his voice became more cracked and quiet. He hated how the very mention of Karl’s name is what sent him over the edge.

“Why not? He’s as much your fiancé as he is mine.” Sapnap’s tone didn’t get at all softer as Quackity started crying.

“Because he hasn’t even fucking visited me! He doesn’t want you to see me, right?” He yelled.

Sapnap couldn’t reply.

When he really thought about it, Quackity was right.

“Right?” Quackity asked again, wanting to hear the word come out of Sapnap’s mouth.

Sapnap hesitated for a moment. “Right.”

The two were silent again.

They had so much to talk about, and this was the perfect time to do so, but neither could say anything for a minute.

“Goodbye, Sapnap.” Quackity said, walking away to the door.

Sapnap grabbed his wrist, “wait,”

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Quackity pulled his hand away immediately.

“Quackity, where are you going?” was the only thing Sapnap could ask.

He thought over his answer for a quick second. “To Wilbur.” He said, mostly to spite him. He pushed the handle down and put his weight on the door, the door not yet opening.

“Wilbur? Quackity, we’re not done here, you can’t just leave to go have an affair.”

“Oh, yes I fucking can.” He tried the door again, it still not opening. He pulled it, the damn thing not budging. He jerked it again, still failing to open the door.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Again—

Sapnap grabbed his wrist, causing him to stop and look up at him. “Quackity, it’s locked, there’s no use.”

“No, it’s fucking not.” He kept trying, something finally coming loose.

Unfortunately that thing was the door handle.

He stumbled backwards, Sapnap catching him before he fell flat on the ground.

“Fucking hell!” He yelled, throwing the door handle down on the floor with a loud clang.

Quackity stood still and took a few deep breaths, realizing he’d better stay calm for his own wellbeing and for the sake of not having a fucking stroke because holy shit his blood pressure was sky high right now. He brushed his hair out of his face and wiped his tears, swallowing hard. He walked closer to the railing of the balcony, gripping the rail.

Sapnap didn’t dare to say anything further. Things were tenser than it’s ever been between the two.

Quackity let go of the railing to reach behind his neck, fumbling with the clasp of his necklace for a brief moment. The necklace came loose and he held the ends in his hand, just clear enough for Sapnap to see.

He noticed the two engagement rings he and Karl gave him were hanging by the thin gold chain.

“Sapnap, tell me one good reason why I shouldn’t chuck Karl’s ring off this balcony right here right now,” he said, not bothering to turn around and face him, mostly to be dramatic.

Sapnap’s heart dropped at this, tears starting to well up in his eyes too. “Baby, please—”

“Don’t call me that,” he said with a sharp bite in his voice. “Or else I’ll throw yours too.”

“Quackity,” he hesitated for a second. “Karl told me he told you about Kinoko.” Sapnap hurriedly answered.

“He didn’t.” Quackity replied, his tone flat, dropping what could only be Karl’s ring into his palm and off of the gold chain.

“There’s gotta be an explanation for this, Quackity. Just— I’ll take you to Kinoko, just give him a chance to explain.” He damn near begged, wanting to step closer but not daring to.

Quackity stilled at this, considering his options.

“Please, Quackity.”

He took a deep breath, looking out at the view and at the palm of his hand.

There’s gotta be an explanation.

Maybe not a good one, but an explanation nontheless.

He turned around, having come to a conclusion. He threw the ring weakly at the ground, the thing of gold clinking at the floor. It landed just by Sapnap’s feet.

Sapnap stepped on the ring, just to make sure it stayed by his side. His gaze went back up to Quackity not a moment after, though.

“Alright.” Quackity said, a few tears streaming down his face.

The both of them stood silent for a moment, this time a comfortable silence, though. To let everything set in.

“I still love you, Quackity.” He said, his voice somewhat quiet.

He didn’t have to hesitate too long before answering. “I love you too, Sap.”

Upon hearing this, Sapnap stepped closer to him slowly.

He held his face gently, slowly leaning in for a kiss and giving him all the time in the world to back away.

He didn’t.

And so they kissed, soft and warm in the freezing cold night.

Quackity looped his arms behind Sapnap’s neck pulling him closer.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t long until the kiss got intense, the two not having much space to breathe, some soft moans coming from Quackity’s mouth getting slightly louder and louder by the second.

“We’re gonna do it here, aren’t we?” Sapnap pulled away to ask, his breathing heavy.

“Oh, fuck yes,” Quackity near moaned, hurriedly undoing his pants.

Sapnap chuckled lightly, feeling the tension between them dissipate just like that. “What’s the rush? We’ve got all night.” He smiled, kissing him again.

He could feel Quackity smile against his mouth, pulling him closer into the kiss.

Quackity only pulled away to throw off his pants, kicking off his shoes along with it. Sapnap noticed that both his pants and shoes were quickly sliding across the floor, coming dangerously close to the gap between the glass railing and the floor, but gave it no mind.

Quackity laid down on the ground, pulling Sapnap down with him.

Of course, Sapnap had a bottle of lube with him. He always does.

On the ground, they went back to kissing, Sapnap clicking the bottle open and slicking his dick with the lube while he was at it.

Quackity’s eyes were shut when he felt something on his ass.

Something fucking freezing cold.

He gasped at the cold, and it thrust inside him before he could ask, drawing a high pitched moan loud enough for most of Las Nevadas to hear coming from his vocal chords, muffled only by Sapnap’s mouth on his.

Oh, that’s not a dick at all.

He pulled off the kiss immediately to ask. “Sapnap—oh god~! W—what’s—”

“Door handle.” He answered, not even having to hear the entire question.

“What~?" He asked, his voice surprisingly level for a man that just found out he’s just had a metal door handle shoved up his ass.

"Ya like it, babe~?" Sapnap asked, not moving the handle in his ass until further confirmation.

Quackity considered his answer for a moment, all while poorly muffling his moans. "Fuck, ah, yes~"

Hearing that, Sapnap took it as his cue to start fucking his so-called fiance with a door handle.

But

Slowly??

And gently???

Now that'd be normal for anyone else, but quackity is used to being a masochistic shit and likes it rough, even if the dick is a door handle.

“What the fuck?” Quackity said, suddenly not moaning anymore.

“What?”

“Why are you so fucking slow???”

“What, you don't like it?” Sapnap asked, stopping the door handle completely.

“No? Why the fuck would I ever like that??” Quackity just could not at all comprehend the idea of him not getting his brains fucked out. “Come on, harder.”

Sapnap only sighed, a faint smile on his face. "You sure you can handle it?"

oh my god hes making puns during sex

"Yes, sap—please," Quackity didnt seem to notice the absolutely genius pun sapnap just told, and kept on being horny.

Sapnap let out a slightly disappointed sigh as he harshly rammed the handle in and out of his ass.

"H-ah yes~! Oh~!! Harder sap!" Quackity went back to his usual very loud—near screaming—moans as he picked up the pace, realizing that fucking him gently would get them nowhere.

"Never knew you liked being manhandled~" Sapnap said, hovering just above Quackity’s face to see him eye to eye.

"Tha-at's n-not what manhandling i-is~" Quackity protested, not really in the right state of mind to speak.

"You are man and I'm handling you." He reasoned, giving a reasonable, but still very wrong point.

"Yes, but—Ah snapmap! Fuck~!!" He wanted to protest some more but was cut off by yet again more earth shattering moans that he for some reason could not just keep to himself.

Most people would not enjoy being fucked with a door handle this much, but he is not most people.

"Quackity—" sapnap tried to speak, but was immediately interrupted.

"Sapnap~!!" He cried out.

"Yes, Quackity, I—"

"I love you, sap~!" Quackity yelled mindlessly, all his logic nowhere to be found.

Sapnap was slightly taken aback by this, especially because minutes before this was the same man that threatened to just straight up divorce him right then and there. He stopped all movement for a solid few seconds, the surprise physically restraining him. He got his shit back together pretty quickly though and went back relentlessly fucking his fiance with a broken door handle. "I love you too, Q."

He was so taken aback by those four words that he completely forgot what he wanted to say earlier.

"Stickdaddy~!" Quackity moaned, uncharacteristically loud for a person.

Like a human's vocal cords should not be able to reach that level of noise.

"Oh god, don't—" He was cut off by another scream-moan. "Don't stop~!"

Sapnap's voice was deep and sexy, the type that made Quackity's heart beat closer and closer to an inevitable heart attack, but he saying something you wouldn't exactly expect to hear during sex. "Knock knock, baby~"

Oh my god he's making a knock knock joke during sex.

Quackity took a moment to piece together a coherent sentence, mostly because he was so lost in the pleasures of getting pegged by a door handle. "Who's th-there~?" He managed to hold back his moans for a few seconds to hear sapnaps reply. A fucking miracle. Who knew that the slut could ever shut up.

"Orange" He smiled.

"O-orange who~?"

"Orange-ya gonna cum?" Sapnap smiled, seemingly very very proud of himself for coming up with that joke.

Quackity replied to the joke by indeed coming all over himself and sapnap with the absolute most high pitched moan to ever come out of a full grown, testosterone-filled man.

Sapnap stopped his handle moving to instead kiss quackity as he shamelessly continues to cum on the both of them.

After a moment like that, he pulls the handle out entirely and throws it to the side, the thing of metal sliding off the balcony and falling off the building. He paid it no attention.

He pulled off the kiss too, letting the man breathe after all that sex he just had with the door handle of the needle.

"Fuck," Quackity breathed out. Sapnap naturally assumed his next words would be something like "I love you" or "that was amazing" but was quickly disappointed with "It's so fuckin cold".

He sighed. "Put your pants back on, dude."

Quackity groaned, looking over to his discarded pants that were definitely out of reach from him.

"Fine, I'll get it," Sapnap sighed fondly, quickly getting off of him to grab his pants.

He threw the pants back in one swift motion, something falling out of the pocket and landing harshly on the ground.

"Oh, sorry," Sapnap quickly apologized before picking them up himself.

A phone and a wallet.

A very thick wallet filled with a shit ton of cash and cards, that is.

He took a mental note of that, hoping maybe he just secured himself a sugar daddy tonight.

Or is it sugar son? Since Quackity's the one that calls him daddy.

He got back to his sugar son, sitting cross-legged by him as he sat upright to put his pants on. "Here, your phone and your wallet."

"Thanks," he grabbed the two with one hand as he buttoned his pants with the other. He tried to sit cross-legged like sapnap, but his ass was just a bit too fucked from the door handle for that to be comfortable, so he just resorted to laying down on the ground, his head on Sapnaps legs.

As sapnap played with his not visible hair, he decided it'd be a great time to check his phone.

"Oh shit,"

"What?"

"I got like five missed calls from Slime," he showed his lockscreen to him, the wallpaper being a bald man wearing a suit with "MR WORLWIDE" in big bold letters, a bunch of texts from unsaved numbers, and missed calls.

"Oh, yeah, I was tryna tell you your phone was ringing earlier." Sapnap said, finally remembering what he was about to say before quackity blurted out the fact he loved him.

"Yeah," he was already unlocking his phone and ringing him back, putting the phone on speaker for some reason

"Slime? What's wrong? I'm busy."

Something warmed in sapnap's heart upon hearing this. The fact that quackity was willing to put all his work on hold to just lay with him on a rooftop on some building was oddly sweet to him.

"Quackity from las nevadas I heard fucking screaming from on top of The Needle, I think there was a girl getting murdered up there." Slime replied.

"Oh," Quackity couldn't exactly find the words to tell him that it was in fact him making the noises, and no, he was not getting murdered, he was getting fucked senseless with a door handle. "That—" he paused, looking at sapnap and mouthing "what do I say???"

"Quackity from Las nevadas?" Slime asked when quackity was silent for a bit too long.

"Um… I'm sure it's fine, right?" He said, not knowing what else to say.

"I asked awesamdude and he said it is probably a homicide," he continued.

Quackity was visibly cringing at this, mouthing "Oh fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuck." At sapnap.

"What did— what did he say?"

"He said if a girl is screaming "oh god, don't, stop", that means they're probably getting fucking murdered."

"Ah, probably just a girl having sex, you know how it is." He tried to play it off as if it wasn't him having sex.

"I heard an argument just before the screaming, quackity from las nevadas."

Fuck.

"Okay, fine, I'll check it out, okay?" Quackity sighed, hoping that was the end of that.

"Okay, quackity from Las nevadas. Thank you!" Slime said before promptly hanging up.

Quackity groaned, throwing the phone to the side, burying his face in his hands. "Fuck, how many people heard me?"

"Hey, it's fine. They'll probably forget all about it by tomorrow morning." Sapnap assured, rubbing Quackitys arm.

"Was I really that loud?" Quackity asked, pulling his hands away from his face, seemingly unaware at how loud he's been every single time he's had sex with literally anyone.

"Oh, you were fucking screaming." Sapnap said, being a firm believer of brutal honesty.

"No I wasn't," Quackity denied, crossing his arms. "Have I always been this loud?" He asked, considering the possibility that maybe he's not the quietest person to ever have sex.

"For sure," he said, smiling at him.

He thought back to literally all the times he's had sex. All the way back from Schlatt, to the times in El rapids, to his first time with wilbur, to the times in his office, the pub, the alley—

"Fuck."

Chapter Text

the next morning, after calling sam to break open the balcony door and avoiding the knowing looks from the man, quackity was finally freed from the needle and allowed to go back to his usual affairs.

it just so happens that this affair was between him and wilbur soot.

as fate would have it, he stumbled across the homeless guy just loitering in front of his office bathroom. either it's a wild coincidence, or wilbur’s actively stalking him.

either way, he doesn't mind.

one thing led to another and he was suddenly in a bathroom stall with the man, back pinned to the door as he was caged in by the mans lanky arms, making out so hard they were nearly devouring each other's faces for brunch.

"a—"

"so, q," wilbur cut him off at the first sight of a moan. "hate to bring up your ex during sex, but sounds to me that conversation last night didn't go well."

"what?" quackity's voice was breathy as fuck, possibly because he hasn't breathed in the past minute or two while shoving his tongue in a homeless man's throat.

"it didn't go well, didn't it?" it's almost as if wilbur was taunting him.

"what? of course it went well, what makes you think that?" quackity protested, suddenly a little less turned on now.

"you're here. in a bathroom stall. fucking me."

fuck.

wilbur's such a dick when he's smart.

"for your information, I'm going to kinoko in a couple hours to talk it out with karl."

"and yet you're still here." Wilbur gave him this punchable patronizing smile.

"I am not cheating on my fiance." he said without a moment's hesitation.

"I never said you were." wilbur replied, not missing a beat.

quackity didn't say anything for a while.

"quackity, i just think for the sake of your love life, you better keep it in your pants for just a few hours." he whispered lowly into his ear, and quackity swore he heard a scoff before he pulled away.

quackity hesitated for a second.

"I don't care." quackity finally said.

"hm?"

"I said I don't fucking care." he repeated, pulling wilbur in again to continue devouring his face.

"whats—"

"whipped cream,"

quackity made a noise of hesitation, but undid his pants a moment after anyway.

he's had worse than whipped cream.

as wilbur was undoing his own pants, he pulled out a can of whipped cream. "You ready to get creamed, hoboson?"

quackity bit back a moan at those words because he's weird, and turned around and bent over to let wilbur cream his ass.

he heard the hiss of the can, but strangely felt no cream.

oh my god the mans putting whipped cream on his dick isn't he.

suddenly he felt something go in his ass, though it was a bit too small to be wilburs dick.

he heard the can hiss again, and this time he felt whipped cream in his ass. he moaned loudly at this, quickly covering his mouth with his hand in a poor attempt to stay quiet.

it suddenly pulled out, and he heard it hiss again.

"Mm!" wilbur said, causing him to turn around and look at him.

oh my god hes eating the whipped cream.

"wil, that's—"

"you want some?" he asked.

"uh, no?" quackity was only a little hesitant about eating something from a can that's just been in his ass.

"your loss, I guess." wilbur opened his mouth to eat more whipped cream like a fucking child.

meanwhile, with his free hand, he shoved quackity back into his original position and roughly stuck his dick in.

"A-Ah—! daddy~!" quackity's voice went high pitched again as wilbur picked up the pace without any hesitation. "whip me, daddy~!" he moaned very loudly.

"what?" wilbur stopped fucking him for a moment just to question him.

"huh?"

"the fuck did you just say?"

"uh," he thought for a moment, not wanting to ever repeat the words "whip me, daddy" ever again in his life.

Wilbur thought for a moment, unsure what he's supposed to to when his sexual partner just very clearly said "whip me daddy" while getting fucked with whipped cream.

he decided not to think about it too much and went back to harshly fucking him.

oddly enough, this time quackity wasn't as loud as he usually is.

still very loud, just not full on screaming like other times.

"hobodaddy~ oh my god—" he moaned as he felt whipped cream slide down his legs.

"this would be an effective way to make milkshake," wilbur mused, not at all making this hotter.

"cream me, daddy~!"

okay that wasn't any better.

"Okay, hoboson~" wilbur moaned very loudly as he came.

well shit that was surprisingly quick.

"f-fuck~ Wil, that was fast." quackity panted, Wilbur pulling out immediately just to cum on everything else and make the janitors job harder.

"what? you told me to cum." Wilbur protested because he does not in fact come quickly.

"no??"

"you told me to cream you??"

"that's—"

he probably should've thought this over a bit more.

"I meant like— whip cream me," quackity hesitated. "yeah, nevermind—"

wilbur grabbed the can again and just stared at it for a brief moment, before extending his hand out and squirting whipped cream on quackity's black shirt.

the man was too stunned to speak, and honestly he felt he somewhat deserved that.

it's his fault for not specifying things to this dumbass.

"Wil, just— just forget i ever said anything get back to fucking me."

without a moment's hesitation, wilbur flipped him back into his original position and shoved his back dick in, quackity promptly letting out a signature moan-scream and stumbling forward.

how is this man hard again already

quackity could hear another hiss of the can, presumably onto wilburs dick. he didn't have time to comment, though, because wilbur started fucking into him harshly.

"you gonna whip cream for daddy~?" wilbur said lowly into his ear.

why does he always say the weirdest things in the hottest voice?

"a-ah~! y-yes, hobodaddy~!" he moaned in reply, immediately whip-creaming all over the stall door and his clothes.

wilbur pulled out not long after that, quackity nearly collapsing onto the dirty bathroom floor.

"fuck," quackity panted, actually collapsing on the floor.

Chapter Text

he wandered the streets of his city, not knowing exactly where to go or what to do.

he could stay where he is, on the sidewalk smoking his ninth cigarette of the hour and getting drenched by the heavy rain. or he could gamble his woes away. or maybe he could go to a bar and get shitfaced drunk and forget all about it. or he could go to a strip club and watch some hot men dance on a pole.

mmm jacking off to hot men.

jacking off to wilbur soot?

getting fucked by wilbur soot?

he finally landed on a good idea and put out his cigarette in the puddle on the ground, walking off to the border of las nevadas. there, he found that motherfucking hotdog van.

he hesitated at the door before knocking, sniffling.

the door creaked open, a tall lanky man on the other side of it.

"wilbur," he said, his voice coming too close to a tremble.

wilbur paused for a moment. "quackity," he said, somewhat shocked. "what are you doing here?"

quackity chewed on his bottom lip, looking away. "can I come inside?"

"sure," he opened the door for him, gesturing to him to come inside.

he stepped inside, wilbur taking his eyes off of him for a moment to close the door.

"q, are you oka—" he started, coming to an abrupt silence when he looked back at the man and saw him already naked with his drenched clothes in a messy pile beside him, cock stiffer than ever.

"fuck me, wil." he said, less like a request and more like a command.

wilbur has never hesitated at quackity telling him to fuck him, but this time he did.

"I've just had the shittiest day ever, so please," he took a deep breath, slightly trembling. "please shove your hobodick in me." he looked like he was about to cry.

"what happened?"

"doesn't matter, just fuck me." he repeated. "I don't want to talk about it."

"was it sapnap?"

"no," quackity averted his eyes so he didn't have to look at wilbur's dumbass face. "karl doesn't remember me, okay?" he started. "I visited him and he kept saying I fucking murdered him and I think sapnap agrees with him." he rambled. "and I think—"

he stopped talking when he felt wilbur hug him.

he sighed, "i've had a shit day and i need to scream out my frustrations somewhere." he said. "so just—just fuck me, wil." he repeated again.

wilbur considered for a moment, looking him up and down. "alright," he said, quickly starting to roughly kiss him.

quackity moaned into the kiss, needy bitch.

before they knew it, they collapsed onto the carpeted floor with quackity pinned under wilbur with his legs spread as far as they could go, quackity already moaning like no tomorrow.

"you wanna know what we're using this time?" wilbur pulled away to ask, visibly pulling something out of his pocket.

"surprise me,"

and that he did.

wilbur quickly took off all of his clothes, pouring something on his dick and immediately hissing and moaning in what sounded like pain.

"mmhh—aaahhahhh—fuck~ shhhhhhittt—oh my god—" he bit his lip to keep himself quiet, something quackity has never seen from this fucking hardcore massochist-sadist. somehow, though, he seemed like he was thoroughly enjoying it.

"what the fuck?" quackity tried to look at the bottle that wilbur used, but it was quickly thrown far away before he could read it. "wil, what—"

wilbur cut him off in his usual fashion, causing quackity to let out a low moan of "ohhhhhhh~ single parent with financial troubles and no place to live—!!" as he felt wilburs huge long gigantic horsecock slide up his ass very roughly.

this moan, though, quickly turned into pained screaming.

"oh d-DADDY OH MY GOD— FUCK— AAH-AAAH—" he screamed, cried, threw up, shat, squirming and clawing at wilbur's back, dick throbbing, back arched, toes curled.

"son, I haven't even—aah—even moved yet and you're already so worked u-up~" wilbur teased, unable to form a full sentence due to the fucking searing pain on his dick.

quackity was also unable to form a coherent sentence due to the absolutely horrible pain in literally every part of his ass. "WIL, FUCK— OH SHIT—! WHAT DID— OH MY FUCKINGG—"

"Tabasco sauce~" he simply replied.

quackity tried to make out some words of protest, but it came out as just more screaming and moaning.

he hated to admit he actually liked it.

he's grown quite fond of the extreme pain and/or confusing humiliation inflicted on him literally every time he has sex with wilbur.

"this is the hottest thing I've ever done, q~" wilbur moaned, starting to pick up the pace. "you're literally so hot right now~"

literally.

it felt like he was being fucked with satan's fire dick, and the worst part is he liked it. even worse, he wanted more of it.

"h-hAarder satan daddy~! your cock feels like an std—! ohh~" he didn't mean to say it out loud, but he honestly couldn’t care less.

wilbur, being submissive (and maybe breedable) obliged, fucking the divorcee as hard as he could with the most fucking painful burning on his dick known to man.

quackity started to notice something about wilbur’s pace this time.

he didn't say anything about it at first but it became undeniable after a minute.

he couldn't stay silent about it.

he couldn't deny it much longer.

something had to have been said.

"are you going to the tune of motherfucking cbat?!" he said in between moans, struggling to not scream at the pain.

"no I'm not~" he said.

he paused for a bit, biting back his moans as best as he could (not very well) to play out the tune in his head and feeling the pace Wilbur was going at.

no he's definitely going to cbat.

"stop fucking lying to me~!"

"okay fine I'm going to cbat~" he admitted, still going.

"what the—aah—fuck?!" he moaned, "stop going to cbat, the fuck~?"

"no~" wilbur said, going harder to the tune of cbat. "you like it, don't you~? getting cbat'ed with hot sauce~?" he taunted behind his teeth, clearly in pain from the hot sauce.

and maybe he was right.

maybe he did like the pace of cbat.

he didn't protest much after that.

"you're my hot spicy little hobo-cbat-son~" wilbur moaned, much more high pitched than quackity expected.

he only nodded in response, his breathing more uneven than ever.

"say it." wilbur growled.

"w-wh—?" quackity couldn't put together a coherent word before actually just fucking screaming as wilbur rammed his firecock even harder into his fireass.

"say you're my hot spicy little hobo cbat son~" he repeated, grabbing quackitys dick with one hand.

"i-i'm your— your spicy hobo son, cbat daddy—!!!" he screamed even louder as he came all over cbat daddy's hand.

he doesn't want to admit that being called a spicy hobo son was what sent him over the edge.

a high pitched "oh, mommy~!!!" was all that quackity heard as he felt cum shoot inside of his ass.

oh my god wilbur just called him mommy.

sweet home alabama much?

"what did—" quackity tried to ask but literally could not breathe. "what did you just say?" he said, breathing heavily.

"n-nothing—" he denied.

"ah, wil~" quackity panted. "f-fuck, I— agh—"

wilbur hadn't moved since he came, and noticed that his cum covered hand was still just on quackity's dick. so like any person would, he started giving him a handjob.

"n-no, wil— my cock burns~" quackity felt the burning getting worse and spreading.

and only then did they both realize that wilbur's hand still had some hot sauce on it from when he lubed up his own dick earlier.

oh fuck.

"oh my god, wil." he said as he realized. "get some fucking milk, oh my god!" he screamed, feeling like his dick was a hotdog on a barbecue.

wilbur finally pulled out his firecock and ran to the fridge, pulling out some maybe expired milk and pouring all of it on quackitys dick.

after a while, he stopped screaming, a faint burn still there but enough for him to just accept his fate and not ruin his voice.

wilbur sat down beside him, looking at the cum still on his hand.

he let the intrusive thoughts win and licked it.

"what the fuck?!" quackity shot up, grabbing his wrist and pulling it away from his mouth.

"hot, isn't it?" he teased.

"yes wil, hot sauce. on your hand."

and that was when he realized he made a huge fucking mistake.

ensue chaos as the spiciness set in, wilbur scrambling to get literally anything to drink, quackity watching with amusement.

maybe he doesn't need karl and sapnap in his life.

maybe he just needs this dumbass massochist.

Chapter Text

he woke up the next morning with a blanket draped over his buttass naked self.

he must've fallen asleep at some point last night.

and wilbur must've given him a blanket at some point.

where's wilbur?

when his eyes finally focused and he came to his senses enough to fully register where he was at, he realized wilbur had his arm around him, effectively big-spooning big q.

he turned around to face the man, only to find that he was already awake and staring blankly into the distance.

"good morning, q."

its been a while since he's woken up with somebody beside him.

"morning" he sighed somewhat happily, snuggling into him a little more. he missed the feeling of actually just literally sleeping with someone.

"oh—" he exclaimed when he felt something hard rub against his thigh.

oh, thats a dick. when is this man not hard?

"are you—?" he asked, somewhat excited to once again get fucked. "sex?"

"you know me so well," he pulled away from quackity, pulling the blankets off with him and exposing the two of them to the super fucking cold.

quackity shivered, wanting wilbur to come back and fuck him back to room temperature.

"so—"

"i wanna eat out your ass" wilbur said bluntly, literally nothing prompting him to do so. "pretty please with a cherry on top?" He said, moving closer to him.

and quackity wasn't about to complain.

"sure?" he replied, sitting upright expectantly, not exactly sure what to do.

wilbur got on his knees and shoved him back down roughly, causing the whore to moan at the pain of his back hitting the floor and fucking obliterating his spine, then flipping him over so his ass was in the air.

"is it your birthday, Wil? cuz you're getting some cake," quackity said, feeling it was the perfect time to pull out his corny pickup lines.

"I'd prefer red velvet," he replied, not wasting any more time and going down on him.

"oh—ohHh~" he immediately got extremely loud, as usual. "w-wil—!" he screamed, violently shaking from both the morning cold and the homeless man's tongue in his asshole.

"oh mM—FUCK—!" he yelped when he felt wilbur fucking bite his ass, instinctively trying to squirm away.

"mm breakfast~" he stopped for a second to say in his usual hot and deep voice.

"what the fuck–?!" quackity protested, his words dissolving into half pleasured half pained moans when he felt wilbur go back to biting and chewing his ass as if it were morning eggs and waffles. "f-fuck—oh, hobodaddy!"

"fuck, I should pour maple syrup on you," wilbur's deep sexy voice was making a comeback as he spoke in between bites of the president's breakfast platter asshole. "I bet you love being treated like a little waffleboy. like a little wafflewhore, if I may."

"y-yeah~!! put—put powdered sugar and diced strawberries on me, daddy~! ah—!" he screamed without much thought, his voice trembling. "eat me with a fork and knife and a napkin~!!" He went into detail on how he is literally a fucking waffle. "and wash me down with a cold glass of orange juice—!"

"Oh, I'll put chicken on you, alright." wilbur added, his hot sexy voice making quackity moan loudly.

"w-what~?"

wilbur stopped chewing him to explain his very clever dirty talk. "chicken and waffles,"

"mhm,"

"chicken, cock."

cue laughtrack.

"are you gonna pour milk on me too, daddy~?" quackity replied, continuing this really strange train of dirty talk.

"ew gross no i dont want soggy waffles," he said as he got up and walked over to the kitchen, leaving quackity somewhat confused and yearning to be eaten again.

his yearning was resolved when wilbur came back, got back on his knees, and stuck his cock in without any warning, causing him to scream unexpectedly.

"OH, FUCK—DADDY~!!" he whined at the sudden feeling of large cock in his ass. "H-H-HAR-R-DER~" he stuttered, his moans becoming incoherent again.

"that's my little wafflewhore~" he whispered into his ear, moaning and groaning lightly as he slowly started fucking him. "oh, I bet you taste great right now~" he said, his voice breathy and hot.

"a-MH~" He moaned louder at these comments, his legs shaking so hard he almost collapsed.

"my french toast slut~"

and with that, quackity came all over the floor, moaning obscenely as he did, Wilbur continuing to fuck him slowly through it.

"oHH F-FUCK~ faster, w-waffledaddy~!!" He said as he came. he was not used to the slow speed wilbur was going at.

"I can't, wafflewhore~"

he whimpered loudly at the petname, before stuttering out "why, d-daddy~? uwu~"

wilbur visibly cringed for a second. "your ass is very sticky~" he says, and it sounds like a compliment for a second.

"what did you use ah—as lube~" he struggled to say, already very close to cumming again.

"maple syrup,"

he let out another moan as wilbur fucked into him as hard as he could with the sticky maple syrup holding him.

"oh, m-mommy~" wilbur whined as he thrusted into his mommy with as much force as possible, biting his lip.

as much as he wanted to, quackity couldn't bring himself to admit that he really liked being called mommy. and he couldnt bring himself to admit how much he wanted to know what maple syrup together with ass tastes like.

"wil—!" he screamed, bringing himself to admit those things.

"please, mommy~!" wilbur cut him off, whining like a child begging his mother for a new toy. ew.

"g-grandpa~!!" the breakfast screamed as his dick released more milk all over the floor and himself. fuck, he really does like being called mommy.

"third cousins twice removed~!" replied wilbur as he finished inside his breakfast, both of them collapsing on the floor immediately afterwards.

Chapter Text

hi guys im a lot older than when i wrote this, every day im haunted by it and i hope this doesn’t come back to fuck me in the ass with soap, sticks, hot sauce, or door handles when i try to get a j*b, digital footprint go crazy. so im orphaning it!!

to the people that commented & gave kudos, yall are sick but the amount of attention this got was so funny ill never forget yall