HumanBBQ
Sir Brain-a-rot
- Jul 24, 2023
- 21
Trigger warning: deity fetish fanfic/self insert
SPOILER (TAGGING MY SUBMISSIVE POOKIES)
Btw this is a tribute (pun intended) for my dear SaSu friends. Thanks for making me not wanna kms so bad (not even joking lmfao)
Love u guys
I used to be what you'd call a stereotypical loser. Not interested in anything mainstream other than writing my weird shit on an old computer, running the oldest version of Windows XP while it lets out what I hope is steam instead of smoke. Never had a partner, nor intended to. I always preferred my good old ones and zeroes and my beautiful portable sketchbook filled with drawings of my invented universe. I was in a blissful haze of what one can hardly call a life, but at least I was somewhat happy with it. That was until my most recent "highlight of the week"... or well, my entire life, since nothing was as puzzling as what I'm about to unfold upon your eyes in these sacred texts.
I was having the most mundane, peaceful and LED-filled moment of the day, where I turned on my desktop PC and booted up Microsoft Word.
—Crap, almost forgot!— I blurted out between the mumbles about my daily brainstorm session.
I had a tradition. Every day, I would light up a handful of rose scented candles next to my closet, in a makeshift shrine in honor of my favorite author, to help me write better during my sessions.
—O Lord, give strength for today's humble writing I am about to perform.— I intertwined my hands together, and closed my eyes for a couple of seconds, inhaling to blow out the candles. When I opened them, as I was blowing out the crimson flames in an otherwise blueish ambience of artificial lighting, I looked at my beautiful shrine, completely crafted by myself with blood, sweat and tears.
—Thank you.— I said solemnly as I admired the printed —and obviously framed— screenshot of his profile picture, with a soft smile and a light blush in my cheeks. I got closer to it, seemingly feeling him staring at me like I was staring at him... then I grabbed it, maliciously looking side to side, as if someone were to notice me sinning, even though I lived alone. I felt a bit embarrassed, but how would that last if I never had shame in the first place?
That's when He struck.
Not with lightning, even worse.
I was humming Freek'n You by Jodeci to myself, grabbing a pack of Doritos for the aftercare and some lube and tissues. I sat in front of the monitor, surrounded by wires, LED light and the smell of dust coming from the fans inside the computer case. The sound of the electronics was loud, but the moans were louder. I started beating my meat to his work, with every breath scrolling further and further, until I was about to reach my limit.
Then, I heard a breaking noise right behind my pornographic scene. Something hit my window. More precisely, a baseball bat. Someone literally emerged from who-knows-where, and barged inside with a straight face, as if it was another fucking Tuesday.
—Hi, my fellow writer, I have come from the shadows as you have summoned me with your- WHAT THE FUCK!?— He exclaimed in confusion, frozen while his index finger pointed right at my fella as I was ejaculating all over the poor framed print. At the moment, I thought he was a burglar with a concerning resemblance and my brain was just dying from the lack of blood up there. But then I got up, tissue in hand, and looked straight at him.
It was Damien. Yes, Damien fucking Lerone last name 03.
—Is that my profile picture...?
TO BE CONTINUED
CHAPTER 2 COOKIN BITCHHHHHH
SPOILER (TAGGING MY SUBMISSIVE POOKIES)
Btw this is a tribute (pun intended) for my dear SaSu friends. Thanks for making me not wanna kms so bad (not even joking lmfao)
Love u guys
@damienlerone03
@The Morningstar
@The Morningstar
I used to be what you'd call a stereotypical loser. Not interested in anything mainstream other than writing my weird shit on an old computer, running the oldest version of Windows XP while it lets out what I hope is steam instead of smoke. Never had a partner, nor intended to. I always preferred my good old ones and zeroes and my beautiful portable sketchbook filled with drawings of my invented universe. I was in a blissful haze of what one can hardly call a life, but at least I was somewhat happy with it. That was until my most recent "highlight of the week"... or well, my entire life, since nothing was as puzzling as what I'm about to unfold upon your eyes in these sacred texts.
I was having the most mundane, peaceful and LED-filled moment of the day, where I turned on my desktop PC and booted up Microsoft Word.
—Crap, almost forgot!— I blurted out between the mumbles about my daily brainstorm session.
I had a tradition. Every day, I would light up a handful of rose scented candles next to my closet, in a makeshift shrine in honor of my favorite author, to help me write better during my sessions.
—O Lord, give strength for today's humble writing I am about to perform.— I intertwined my hands together, and closed my eyes for a couple of seconds, inhaling to blow out the candles. When I opened them, as I was blowing out the crimson flames in an otherwise blueish ambience of artificial lighting, I looked at my beautiful shrine, completely crafted by myself with blood, sweat and tears.
—Thank you.— I said solemnly as I admired the printed —and obviously framed— screenshot of his profile picture, with a soft smile and a light blush in my cheeks. I got closer to it, seemingly feeling him staring at me like I was staring at him... then I grabbed it, maliciously looking side to side, as if someone were to notice me sinning, even though I lived alone. I felt a bit embarrassed, but how would that last if I never had shame in the first place?
That's when He struck.
Not with lightning, even worse.
I was humming Freek'n You by Jodeci to myself, grabbing a pack of Doritos for the aftercare and some lube and tissues. I sat in front of the monitor, surrounded by wires, LED light and the smell of dust coming from the fans inside the computer case. The sound of the electronics was loud, but the moans were louder. I started beating my meat to his work, with every breath scrolling further and further, until I was about to reach my limit.
Then, I heard a breaking noise right behind my pornographic scene. Something hit my window. More precisely, a baseball bat. Someone literally emerged from who-knows-where, and barged inside with a straight face, as if it was another fucking Tuesday.
—Hi, my fellow writer, I have come from the shadows as you have summoned me with your- WHAT THE FUCK!?— He exclaimed in confusion, frozen while his index finger pointed right at my fella as I was ejaculating all over the poor framed print. At the moment, I thought he was a burglar with a concerning resemblance and my brain was just dying from the lack of blood up there. But then I got up, tissue in hand, and looked straight at him.
It was Damien. Yes, Damien fucking Lerone last name 03.
—Is that my profile picture...?
TO BE CONTINUED
CHAPTER 2 COOKIN BITCHHHHHH
) 
