>>44722

The level to which I encourage violence in this ship is really terrible. Unf.

>>44741
I only recently discovered I'm terrible like that, I still feel bad about agreeing with you fgdsrfh

>>44748

Don't feel bad. Come revel in my dark corner with me.

>>44784
Fun fact: The more I hate myself for liking something, the hotter it is. There's probably some interesting psychology there.


...I keep trying to draw things I'm too lazy to finish. Bah.

>>45054

If I could draw, I'd be dangling drawings in front of you like carrots, to further seduce you into my corner.

>>45086
Truthfully, I'm all for the corner. But I don't want to be, for the aforementioned reason.

I could try drawing some of those ideas you have, btw. I need the practice and have about as much creativity as a rock.

>>45154

o rly? Draw me some bloodplay.

I suppose I should stop being such a stranger and give myself a handle so you know who I am.

the same pic, just shaded.

>>44629
>>44722

thanks!
I'm very new to this board, so don't kick my ass for being a dumbfuck...

I had listened to gorillaz for years, but I just found them slashable when one of my friend told me my OC looked like 2D... and now I've gotta admit, they're pretty yummy.

>>45177
Sure thing, bro. It'll be a bit before I can get around to it--/y/ got to me first, and I as am a sucker for bottom Murdoc that's what I'm currently drawing. mm yes saggy old man body
You want anything specific?

>>45215
Shading looks good~ but oh my, one of Murdoc's eyes seems to be getting away from him. And I just realized his cross is upside down. Don't worry, we're nice here. Feel appreciated!

>>45251
OH SHIT.
I just remembered it yesterday... his cross is upside-down. Damn.

will make up for my stupidity later (with prons)...

>>45363
Yes, porn fixes everything.


i hate effort
also feet
fuck those guys

>>45607

lol effort is for the weak. I do love the speech bubbles though.

>>45607
Bitch, stfu. Your feet are delish. Also I'm thinking Murdoc's bum is red. Am I right?!

>>46955
yes actly
it...it didn't look right without it. ffff
and fgfdf i didn't even try to do 2D's feet i was so sick of drawing that picture

>>46124
I GUESS I'M A WIMP THEN
becuase i put an unusual amount of effort into that
and dude srs. specifics are very very helpful. especially since i'm failing more at art than normal right now aaaaa


http://www.ricken.tank.jp/
This page is blank and that make me sad. Unless I'm sucking at internet somehow? I know this person used to do cool arts.

I love these threads but I never had an idea of what to write for 'em until I saw the promo for Plastic Island... then this wrote itself.

***

He comes to on a lumpy, plastic beach that smells of new paint and old dead things, and to a shadow, descending.

"Hello, you cunt," Murdoc purrs, and hauls him up by the collar of his shirt.

"Murdoc," he whimpers. "No."

The man only grins, with a million dirty shark teeth. "'No' isn't a word I like, 2D."

"It's Stuart," he says. "Please, let me go."

"Why would I do that when we've got so much to do?" Murdoc asks, hauling him across the beach. His stride is the same predatory swagger, just a bit longer than 2D-- than Stuart-- can step, especially with this blinding headache, and 2D is so fucking tired of being off balance. Murdoc is going on about custom built submersibles, about cyborg noodles, about what an asshole Russel is-- nothing new there-- about the monstrous mansion he's had built for himself. He's cheerful, commanding, proud of himself, and every bit as unstoppable as he's always been.

"Murdoc, I'm not doing this," he says, when he can get a word in edgewise. "You can't make me."

Murdoc laughs, a terrible dry snigger, and slaps him hard across the face. 2D crumples to the ground, to the front porch of the mansion, and Murdoc swings one pointed boot into his ribs.

"You've picked up all kinds of bad habits since you left, haven't you?" he muses. "Can't be helped. Can't be helped. Get up."

2D uncurls, cautiously. He aches fiercely, in his ribs, his lip, his knees where he hit the ground. And like a counterpoint to the pain is the sick curl of pleasure uncoiling low in his gut. He's always been like this-- he wishes that he knew why, that he knew if it was something Murdoc had made him into or if it was just something he'd taken advantage of. But he doesn't, and it wouldn't matter anyway if he did.

"You're not going to hit me again?" he asks hopelessly.

"Don't be stupid," Murdoc says pleasantly. The toe of one long, lacquer-shiny boot scuffs across the concrete, fetches up against his crotch. 2D goes very still, and Murdoc presses down just hard enough to make him moan.

"Stop playing silly buggers and get your arse in to the studio," he says. "I don't pay you to do dick-all, I pay you to fucking sing."

2D nods very contritely.

He doesn't mention that Murdoc never pays him anything at all.

Murdoc snaps his fingers, then raps smartly on the front door of the mansion.

"Noodle, love," he calls.

2D's first thought is 'she's so grown up now' and his second thought is 'cyborg Noodle, oh shit' because she has a bullet hole right into her fucking head, and that's bad, and she looks down at him without a trace of recognition, this girl who he'd helped raise, she doesn't know him, and that's awful.

"Escort Mister 2D to the east recording studio, there's a good girl," Murdoc says. "I'll meet you there."

Not-Noodle picks him up like he's nothing, slings him over her shoulder, and trudges off.

The east recording studio, for some reason, looks like an 19th century opium den, red lanterns and low couches and everything. 2D doesn't really want to think of any of the reasons, they're all bad. But there's a whole boquet of microphones for him, a handful of amps and speakers and weirder things, and one of those weirder things is Cyborg Noodle, who apparently just plugs in via her shoulders to all the gear.

"Come on," Murdoc demands, flicking a ciggie at him. "Sing something."

2D takes a deep breath, testing his ribs (bruised but passable) and his split lip (barely a distraction): he hates that Murdoc can rearrange his priorities with a bare sentence, with a gesture. Sing for me, 2D. Be my little paper boy, 2D, and thank me afterwards and oh, how he will. He can already feel things shifting around inside his head, rearranging: making room for the music, the music and Murdoc both.

He sings:

"Twinkle, twinkle, little ra--aaaAAAaow!"

Murdoc has stuck a large syringe into his neck. His dark, gnarled fingers clamp around 2D's shoulder as he depresses the plunger. Whatever's inside it hits his bloodstream and goes off like poprocks, like pins and needles and bad cocaine.

"What was that?" he squeaks.

"Incentive," Murdoc chuckles, and backs away as if 2D has become a fine china bomb.

"I hate you," he says. It's the bravest thing he's said in a long while, and the most inane. It only makes Murdoc laugh again as he settles onto a low red couch, legs splayed, as he sets the heel of his hand against the bulge of his crotch, as he picks up a cherry-red guitar with his other hand, his thumb sliding up the neck of it.

"You love me," Murdoc says, kneading his dick through his trousers, and 2D shudders with lust. Murdoc sets both of his hands to plucking at the strings of his guitar, a lazy, hypnotic beat: "Sing, love."

2D sings. The thrum of Murdoc's bass carried him along and so he sings: about love and about freedom and guns and flat soda and about the terrible things that come out of the cracks in the earth and take everything good and clean away from you, he sings his heart out and then his guts and his soul and his self, he sings until he's nothing but a thin shell of meat, damp and trembling, wrapped around the torrent that is the music he and Murdoc are making together and wrapped, in turn, by the burning haze of whatever was in that syringe.

And when he's done, when his head is swimming and his vision is doubling and his dick is tenting his jeans, throbbing out its own kind of dirty music, he's got both hands clamped for dear life on the pole mic just to keep from dropping to his knees. And Murdoc claps for him, measured and sardonic, like gunshots against the sudden stillness.

"There's my lead vocalist," Murdoc croons, coming towards him, nearly stalking. "Did you ever think you were better off anywhere else?"

2D swallows thickly. He remembers city streets, the smell of asphalt and people who didn't know who he was. It feels so far away.

"We're going to make such fucking beautiful music together," Murdoc says, and presses his tongue up along 2D's throat. 2D staggers, electrified, and is caught in the wiry cage of the bigger man's arms.

"Murdoc," he whimpers.

"That's me," the man agrees, working his hands under 2D's shirt, rubbing his heavy erection against 2D's stomach.

"You did this to me," he says, the words coming hard: an indictment, a prayer.

"Sure I did," Murdoc says, pinching one of his nipples till he squeals and bucks up wildly against the man, losing himself in the pain, in how much he wants it.

As far back as he can remember, this, Murdoc's hot hands against his flesh, this is what has defined him. However much he hates himself, however much he hates this, he is who this man has made him, like so: Murdoc reaches down and grasps hold of his dick, and he lets it happen.

"To your knees," Murdoc says. "I think you've been forgetting yourself, love."

God, he hates this. And oh, God, does he need this.

"This is who you are," Murdoc says. "This is what you're for. Isn't it? Come on now, I don't have all fucking night."

"Yes," he whispers.

"I didn't hear you," Murdoc says.

"Yes, Murdoc," he breaths.

"Good boy," the man says, somewhere above him, in the dizzy darkness. "That's my pet."

He presses his mouth against the man's bitter flesh, and remembers himself.

>>47565>>47564
AHHHHH cocktease! More please??

>>45607
I love your Murdoc. ugly and fat just the way he should be!

>>47565

I'm loving on this, so much.

>>47565>>47564
Oh god, unf.

Last night Pepper sent me some skitzo porn she was writing, bits and pieces here and there but omg here is the first paragraph and I thought that if I posted it here, the peer pressure would make her be unlazy:

He's seventeen, and he's almost thirty. It doesn't really bother them. They're not in a relationship, it's no big deal. It's all about good sex and bad company; they've both had girlfriends, they both sleep around, but sometimes they'll meet in a public restroom at 3AM for a smoke and a rough shag. Sometimes they'll talk afterwards, and smoke some more, and they're both sure the other is no good for them.

And when Murdoc fucks him up against the stall door, they both know it's nothing personal.

Pepper should post it

Also roach that is a beautiful fic

Alright fellas, I've never posted in this thread before, I found this after posting a Muds/2-D thread on 4chan (looking for bottom Murdoc!). But you guys inspired me to write a quick, smutty drabble. It took like, an hour.

Now, mind you, it isn't beta'd or anything like that, I just read it over a few times. This is also the first lemon I have ever published.

Hope you enjoy, 'His Singer'

“Harder,” spoke a man to the one above him. “I said harder!” It came out in a gruff yet breathless voice, speaking harshly to the bloke humping into him.

2-D took a deep breath and stopped for a moment in his work, staring down at the mismatched eyes glowering up at him. To this day, it shocked him to no end that Murdoc Niccals allowed him, Stuart-Pot, to fuck him senselessly with Murdoc as the receiver, but here he was…and the older man was treating him like he always did with every little thing he’d do, like he was an insubordinate.

“You call that fuckin’?” Murdoc whispered as 2-D regained his breath, the taller of the two looking at him with a mix of emotions; the bassist studied his confused and almost pained expression until his eyes were forced close, 2-D thrusting up into him and surprising him; they have been screwing long enough to know each other’s bodies, and 2-D slammed even harder into the green man at just the right angle.

Murdoc Niccals couldn’t believe he let 2-D fuck him this way either; at first, he never fathomed it, even after the first few times the two band mates were intimate. But one day, in the heat of the moment, 2-D had taken the reigns and Murdoc had granted him permission to the only place still sacred on the older man’s body, his backside…and it all was history after that. He now understood why 2-D had writhed in pleasure underneath him with every poke to his prostate, the thrill of being filled and touched in ways women could never provide, the couple switching positions regularly.

The bassist moaned softly against the delicate cartilage of 2-D’s ear, his breath making the singer shiver with every tiring buck inside him, the Satanist now satisfied with the harder and quicker pace inside him. “Good,” he managed to speak out before a groan betrayed him. “So fuckin’ good!”

Murdoc’s legs were wrapped tightly around his waist as 2-D continued to shag his band leader, enjoying the tight feel of him around his own cock, the noises he never imagined hearing from the stubborn and macho man know-it-all Murdoc Niccals; it was comforting to know he only experienced such sounds, that he could only make Murdoc feels this way, that he would be granted his body in the first place…

Murdoc took a tuft of 2-D’s hair in his grasp and pulled harshly, exposing his neck to assault him with needy bites, leaving marks upon bruises that were there from their last run in the sac. Lips shivered against Stu’s Adam’s apple, only making 2-D drive harder into him, Murdoc trying not to get lost in his thoughts with what was going on in the Master Bedroom.

2-D and Murdoc had started this strange relationship long ago, within the confines of Kong Studios; it was never spoken outside of the haunted mansion, but their love making could be heard throughout the rooms of Murdoc’s cursed palace. The two men had an understanding; they screwed, they enjoyed it, and they didn’t give a fuck what the consequences were. Who the hell cared what who thought—it felt way too good to deny—and most of all, strangely right.

This is what bothered the elder the most; Murdoc needed 2-D; needed his singer for his voice, his body…his loyalty, his love of obeying the Satanist…

But as of recently, 2-D had started to grow distant…cold…towards his once secret lover.

And Murdoc hated it.

At first, he tried not to let it affect him; so what if 2-D was ignoring his phone calls after Demon Days, making himself scarce from Murdoc. Murdoc didn’t need him. Murdoc needed only Murdoc! A few months had flown by, even a year, until the Stoke-On-Trent native snapped.

He needed money. He needed a new album. He needed 2-D.

…But 2-D didn’t need him.

How dare his vocalist start a new life without him, somewhere gallivanting about in fucking Beirut, having the damn time of his life, while Murdoc himself was running in fear of pirates…or so the Satanist thought. When he approached the apartment of his beloved faceache with a tank of Valium gas in his arms, 2-D looked unhappy…miserable even (although naturally confused)…as he stared out the window.

Stuart Pot arrived to Plastic Beach, angry as the blaring sun shining down on their new HQ, and ignored Murdoc for days in his dingy, whale enforced room. Once again, it ate away at the older man…how he could ignore him. JUST HOW?! 2-D was supposed to be pining over him, not the other way around.

Murdoc put a quick stop to that. After a few drink and spliffs were shared between the two men, the long time ‘mates’ were fucking against 2-D’s floor, the bed and whale forgotten as 2-D cried in long forgotten ecstasy, Murdoc’s name filling the tiny room as his captor pounded into him.

And now they’re here fucking…just them. Just Murdoc, 2-D, and RoboNoodle on the lonely shores of Plastic Beach. Murdoc finally has the dullard all to himself, and he is just as determined to hold on as he is to not show his weakness.

“I know you can do better!” Murdoc snarled into 2-D’s ear, drowning out the singer’s own moan when he raked his long nails down his boney spine. “Fuck me like the way you hate me, dullard!”

That’s when 2-D paused again; Murdoc was growing sick of it. He opened his eyes to berate him some more until he was caught off guard, 2-D glaring daggers at the other. Stuart Pot licked his lips and pulled completely out of Murdoc Niccals, now the one to grab Murdoc by the hair and tug his head back. He slammed into him and Murdoc gasped, Stu hitting his prostate dead on like a bull’s-eye, repeating the action over and over again. Crooked teeth bit crushingly into Murdoc’s shoulder, pulling away to see teeth marks with a space where his incisors once were.

With every stab inside of Murdoc, the older man shivered, now the one crying out Stuart’s name as 2-D gave him the pleasure he wanted. Stu’s free hand grabbed Murdoc length and rubbed quickly, causing delicious friction that only made the attack to his G-spot more intense, Murdoc beginning to squirm.

His breath caught in his throat as he felt the pleasure of release wash over him, letting out one more gasp as he finished in his lover’s hand. “Stuart!” The sound of his name was enough for 2-D to finish right after Murdoc with a few more erratic thrust, whining in pleasure against Murdoc’s neck as he finished inside the older man.

The feel of 2-D’s spunk filling him never got old, still sending a trickle down Murdoc’s thin spine. 2-D lingered inside him only for a moment before he pulled out, landing right besides Murdoc as the two men stared gasping for air at the ceiling, both of their heartbeats drumming around in their ribcage.

A few minutes went by and the two men each flared up a cigarette, neither saying a word as 2-D sat up to sit at the edge of the bed. 2-D was probably going to leave. Murdoc never wanted 2-D to leave, but he never uttered a phrase to stop him.

He was surprised when 2-D turned over to face him, staring through wild bangs sticking to his sweat-drenched forehead, his lips pursed as he tried to find the right words.

“I don’t fuck you because I hate you,” he said softly. Murdoc finally met his eyes, his own bangs messy and in his face, the older man hoping they hide his anxiousness. “Passion like dat isn’ hatred.” He quietly adds.

2-D leaned over and hesitantly placed a kiss on Murdoc; Murdoc Niccals never enjoyed kissing; it was boring, intimate, and not his taste of foreplay. But when 2-D kissed him…

It made his life suddenly bearable, not full of hatred, and most of all…

Normal.

After a quick fight of tongues, 2-D pulled away and rested his head against Murdoc’s bare chest, the older man placing a hand in 2-D’s mane.

His singer. His best mate. His lover.

>>47565


(Sorry this is so late. Last part, porn written specific for coq. You guys are awesome.)



Murdoc fists his fingers through 2D's hair as he fumbles with the man's belt.

"Longer," he muses. "'S a good look, very grunge." He tugs 2D's head forward, pressing his dick insistently against the kneeling man's lips. 2D braces his hands against Murdoc's hips for leverage, and sucks in just the tip of it, licking against the head hard. This has always made Murdoc buck and curse --and he does so, now-- and it makes 2D feel a little better. This is familiar, easy: he sucks in the rest of Murdoc's length, heavy against his tongue, sets his thumbs against the soft inner skin of the man's thighs. It's comfortable, when he starts to bob his head forward, press his tongue up on the way back, watch out for his broken teeth, when Murdoc's hands go tight in his hair, when his legs begin to tremble and his breath begins to go ragged. Everything is going simple and easy, in the uncomplicated way that very good drugs make the world. This is how Murdoc's always gotten him, first with the music and then with the drugs and then with the sex: this is the way it might always be. He hums a little, high in his throat, a few lines of whatever they'd been playing earlier.

"Fuck," Murdoc hisses, and comes without further warning: his hands cruel against the back of the smaller man's head, pulsing ruthlessly into his throat. 2D struggles, instinctively, until he is dropped to sprawl on the floor and cough. He thinks he's got Murdoc's cum in his lungs and God, isn't that a fucked-up little metaphor?

Murdoc kneels down by him and pets his head, almost tenderly, until he can breathe again. Then he leads him over to one of the low couches. He sprawls out gratefully on the length of it, still gasping for air, until he feels Murdoc starting to peel his jeans off.

"Mmwhuh?" he asks.

"Night's still young, lover boy," Murdoc says, and sniggers. "Bet you'd like to get your own rocks off, eh?"

2D nods as emphatically as he can with his head spinning and his cheek pressed up against the red satin. He presses his arse up into Murdoc's grasp, rolling his hips to try to get free of his jeans. The rough drag of the denim over his dick is almost unbearable. He wants to be free of them entirely, but Murdoc only pulls his trousers down just below the curve of his arse, leaving his dick and his legs still trapped.

"Come on!" he demands, wriggling his hips. He can't quite work up the coordination to get his hands into his trousers without falling off the lounge.

"Patience," the man purrs, kneeling down behind him. He grasps 2D's arse in both hands, pinning him to the couch

"Murdoc, please," he whines, writhing futilely. Murdoc only hums to himself, that same little snatch of tune, and scrapes his jaggged teeth along the ridge of 2D's shoulder blade. 2D hisses and flinches away from the sting, but Murdoc only pulls him closer and presses his tongue over the pain, licking a broad wet stripe across his skin that takes the sting and laces it with pleasure, confuses him enough to still and shudder. He moans a little, and Murdoc bites him on the other shoulder blade, then licks it, then bites a bit lower, and licks that. It is agonizing, exquisite, and by the time Murdoc has mangled his way down to the cleft of 2D's bare arse the man is rutting helplessly into his tangled jeans, utterly lost in the onslaught. His heartbeat is loud in his ears, deafening, singing overload overload overload overload. It's too much, how much he needs Murdoc, how much he is Murdoc's instrument.

"Please," he pants, "Please please please--"

"Patience," Murdoc snarles, sinking his teeth in the glove of one of his arsecheeks hard enough to make 2D yelp and snap to perfect, quivering attention.

"Sorry," he says.

"You are," Murdoc agrees, and slides his impossible tongue down the cleft of his arse. 2D smothers a whimper in the taut satin of the lounge, his hands scrabbling vainly for purchase. This is-- this is not something they do often. Have done often. It all blurs together, and Murdoc's tongue presses insistently up against his hole, agonizingly slow against his over-sensitized nerves, and he is crying with overstimulation. The world is nothing but Murdoc's hot, slick intrusion and at the same time everything, the world is the soft damp press of satin against his cheek and the thunder of his heartbeat and the rasp of denim on his dick and the strange hissing ticking from not-Noodle in the corner and the hypnotic red sway of the lanternlight, and the aftertaste of the song they had made, were making: overload.

Murdoc's fingers clamp his hips, and his tongue ravages up inside of him, and 2D's own numb fingers tap out that bass rhythm on their own in time with the ticking from not-Noodle's corner, like a ghost, like a seizure, overload overload overload-- it all comes together, and he comes apart.

Then there is only darkness, warm and sweet and smelling of Murdoc.

He sleeps.

>>50154

I came.

God I've missed this.

Good fucking fiction.

Amazing roach, couscous

such good works

>>49050
omg u hore y u do dis i thot we was frends

It's not schizo, it's unfinished. Jeeze. ...And I think I forgot to mention it's almost positively NEVER GOING TO SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY. At lease for a very long time. (even longer than the other one loool ogod)

>>47612
Thanks so much~ I don't understand the trend of making characters all beautiful kawaii desu, it's so...boring. Can't get my rocks off like/to normal people hurr


roach, cous you are beautiful people hnngh
have my assbabies pls
Gah, you set the standard pretty damn high. I hope I can measure up :C

(Still working on shit. I am the slowest anythingfag evarrrr. Feels bad man)

I swear I thought this thread died
and just as I was drying my tears, here you are still



I swear to God I am gonna writefag/drawfag the
shit out of this thread
just to keep its head above the water

More more more! All of you post mooorreee~

I need more delcious pics. But, I can post whatever shit I haven't seen in here. Sorry, if it's a repeat : P

this week has been cruel to me

so unfortunately, nothing good
here, have this sketchdump until i do something better

i said i would draw something a long time ago.
sorry for the quality. it was taken with a camera.
i lack a scanner. and my art is shit. C:

>>51699

I think it's lovely :3

you guys looked like you could do with some help, and i'm on a gorillaz binge at the moment thanks to you.
expect more because i'm reading rise of the ogre

>>51839

rawr, sexy~

moar is good, because MOAR

and now for something completely different

>>51954

Heyyy,
I wrote something... Uhhh, yeah.
It plays on Plastic Beach, like every other FF, too, hah! But it's so tempting...!

_____________________________


The bed was moving. It definitely was. 2-D grasped the blanket on mentioned bed strongly, trying to focus on one point but couldn't do it. He was rolled up next to the bed, one hand pressing against his head. Fuck, his vision started to blur. Fucking migraines.
Two days ago he run out of painkillers, three days ago he left a note on the door that that was the case because Murdoc somehow arranged to always come down when he was asleep. Since the note was removed, he thought Murdoc saw it and somehow organized to get him some more but obviously he hadn't.
The pain came in waves. He felt the known neusea tipping against his barely existing consciousness as he realized that it was to late to just fall asleep. But no harm in trying. Just as he closed his eyes, squeezing his lids together tightly, he heard that the door was opened.

"How yer doin'?", said a voice he barely noticed. Or better, he didn't want to notice that voice. There, there it was, the weird noise he always made, "Mmmmmm, what are ye doin' on the floor? You aren't sleepin', are ye?"
2-D mouthed some words. What was wrong with his vocal chords?! Or maybe he was drifting down, towards much more pain...
"...nnn... killers...", he croaked and pressed his head harder. Great, he got some strength left for this action but not for speaking.
"I know, I know. Got 'em right here, mate.", he heard and wished he hadn't. Every noise made matters worse. Unfortunately - or maybe even fortunately? - Murdoc didn't know that. He shook the box with the painkillers, popped it open and kneeled down to him. The next thing he felt was a hand grasping his chin, pulling it towards..... the light. If he had the strength left, he would've screamed. Fuck. Instead his body reacted in contracting every muscle; it felt like that, anyway.
"Here.", Murdoc said and forced 2-Ds mouth open, pushing two pills in. "Oh, an' here.", Murdoc added and pushed another, different shaped pill in. He couldn't even make himself wonder what the fuck that was, he just wanted release.

Fourtyfive minutes later, he got what he wanted. The afterglow still lingered around, but he could move again. 2-D slowly got up a little, turning his head around so that he could see the room. And shrieked.
"What are ye....!", he said, sinking back on the floor. Murdoc stood a few meters away, a bottle in one hand, grinning. Why was he lying on the floor? And why was he feeling so... weird. "Why are ye... I mean, why..." He groaned. He felt dizzy, though it wasn't the dizzyness he felt during or after his migraines. It was a somehow... nice feeling, yet unexpected.
"Why'm I here? I wanted te help ya... that's all."
2-D looked up, right to the face of the other. Murdoc stared at him, chuckled now and then and drank quite an amount from the bottle, most likely some liquor. Most likely rum. Or maybe not, as far as 2-D remembered, Murdoc didn't care that much what he was drinking as long as it was good stuff.
The few seconds they were staring at each other seemed like hours.
'Okay, he's extremely drunk.', 2-D thought and broke the eye contact. He tried to sit up a little. To his surprise, he succeeded. "Yer drunk.", he stated and heaved himself onto the bed. "Thank ye for pointin' out the obvious.", Murdoc said, and, after a brief pause, "And yer on drugs, by the way."
"Oh.", 2-D made and moved his head to one side, "Good ta know."
Without any more staring or standing around or silences, Murdoc tossed the bottle in a corner, opened the button of his trousers and approached 2-D quickly. He pushed him down on the bed and 2-D's head bumped on the wall. He yelled out in pain and held his head but it didn't last long - the pain switched positions with huge surprise. One hand fumbled under his shirt, the other unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers in one move.
"Wh... Whoa, wait a minnit...", 2-D said and squirmed under him but couldn't free himself, "Murdoc, what the f...! Haaaah....!"
Murdoc just touched him a little, and he... okay, he touched him quite violently, especially his crotch. The drug seemed to work well for Murdoc. He already had a hard-on.
Murdoc chuckled. And 2-D knew why. "It's the drugs.", he said, "I dun wanna... it jus' happens."
"Yeah, right.", Murdoc grunted and took off his underwear, grabbing his erection.
"Fuck you.", 2-D hissed and put his hands on the shoulders of the man above him, trying to shove him away. "Think ye can do that? Yer on drugs.", Murdoc pointed out and grabbed a little tighter, causing 2-D to wheeze and lighten his grasp, "Jus' ta remind ye." He bowed down to him, "An' now... will ya kindly touch me, too?" Of course it was more an order than a question. Of course. While he said that, he took one hand of him and guided him towards his own length.
A terrible fight took place in 2-D's head. The drug against the urge to flee from the maniac, who could add 'drugged' to the 'what-i've-done-to-2D-list' now. It'd stand directly underneath 'gassed, kidnapped and caged'. Anger began to swirl up in him, right next to that fucking lust the drug induced. Fiercly, he did what he was told.
"Whoa!" - Hearing that made 2-D smirk. Murdoc laughed and moved his hand in perfect rhythm with 2-D's movements, his fierceness and tempo not less than his own. Okay, well then. 2-D exhaled loudly, holding his breath after that.
Suddenly Murdoc stopped. "Don't. Hold. Yer moans in." What the fuck. He just decided - or rather let his body decide - to give in to the drug and then that. He pierced him with an irritated look. Peeved, Murdoc let go of him and spit in his hand. 2-D watched him rubbing his own erection with that hand - which made him look more irritated than he already was. "What do ye... Oh." His shoulders collapsed with the realization.
Smirking, Murdoc took one of his legs, shifted it up and grabbed his own erection with the other hand. "No!", 2-D screamed, struggling and tensing more and more, "No! No, no! Murdoc! MURDOC, WAIT! IDUNWANNA!!"
To 2-D's surprise, he really stopped, but exhaled sharply. "I don't care if ye relax or not. YOU will be hurt. I will fuck ye either way."
2-D panted, grabbing onto the sheets like they could help him. Again, Murdoc spit in his hands, rubbed it onto his erection, took a brief glance at the heavy breathing man and thrusted into him.
An excruciating scream filled the room, paired with an exerted grunt from Murdoc. It wasn't the first time for him to be fucked by a man but a little spit wasn't exactly the perfect lube. And it was ages ago, as if you get used to that if you've done it once.
Murdoc grinned while he was kicked by 2-D. Okay, he didn't exactly kick, he tried to do it with the leg Murdoc held in his hand and it hadn't the effect he wanted. Well, no wonder, his migraines were over just a few minutes ago, and, oh, let's not forget the ominous drug, which ingredients were floating around his body at this very moment. He held his eyes closed to get the feeling he could control the pain. Yeah, like hell. It just hurt, there was nothing else, and it had to hurt Murdoc at least as much as him, if he wanted to interpret the countless curses. ...or maybe not.
"That... fuckin' hurts...", Murdoc wheezed, "Awwh... fuck! Can't ye even be fucked right?!"
He got off 2-D, who immediately crawled to one corner of the bed, eying Murdoc while he raked his room for he-didn't-know-what. 'Just disappear,' he thought, 'Dun find what yer lookin' for.'
"Where have ye got, uhhh, that shampoo I got ya?", 2-D heard from the little bathroom, "The one with Spidey on it, huh? Where is... ha!"
Shit.
He appeared in his room again, holding a bottle of shower gel in his hand. Grinning, he sat down on the bed and opened the bottle, letting some of it flow on his hand. "What the fuck, that smells of bubble gum?" Murdoc looked at 2-D, who just stared frightened at him, and shrugged. "That should do the job, tho'"
Murdoc started all over again. He grabbed his leg, dragged the shrieking 2-D towards himself and poured some gel on his lower parts. "Stop strugglin', for fuck's sake! It's jus' cold!"
That was the point. The drug really kicked in now, he felt like everything poured down on him, not just that stupid shower gel. He tried to see what Murdoc did but his sight was a little... off track. His leg was moved again, his whole body was moved, he felt something weird... and then Murdoc forced himself into him a second time. Yet this time, it worked better. For Murdoc at least.
2.D didn't care anymore. He couldn't do anything to better his situation and the drug, this fucking drug...
A few thrusts more and 2-D suddenly shuddered, moaning. What was that? The other one hadn't done this...
"Here we go.", Murdoc said in that mocking voice, keeping the angle he rammed into him.
Oh no. Oh, fuck. Everytime he touched that spot he felt weird, somehow it was... good. 'Fucking drug... fucking drug...', he thought.
He felt he was close, it seemed like everything what happened in the last minutes, every pain, every struggle against something Murdoc did, the drug and the things, which were grunted into his ear at the moment - just everything added up to one big fucking tsunami, which eventually rolled him over.

He came.

After a few more thrusts, Murdoc came, too. He immediately pulled himself out, letting himself fall next to the still gasping 2-D. He himself was out of breath, too.
It took a minute or two until one of them moved. It was Murdoc. He sat up, rushed a hand through his hair and stood up, collecting his clothes.
Shit. Now that the drug-induced satisfaction wore out, 2-D felt the sharp pain coming back. He didn't know what to feel - he was shocked and confused from what Murdoc just did, he was angry, he were worn out and tired, heavily exhausted and in pain.
Short before Murdoc opened the door, 2-D had the strong urge to yell at him but he didn't. He was drunk, very, very drunk. And he himself still felt the drug's impact. Who knew if Murdoc could even remember what he just did.
But... Whatever.
"Murdoc.", he said louder than he wanted. The man stopped. 2-D stared at the naked back, wondering why he didn't turn around. Fuck, he couldn't bring himself to say something, nothing came to his mind. He just wanted something like... a reaction. DO SOMETHING.
But he didn't. He opened the door, walked out, closed and locked it again.

____________________________________

Fun Fact: I have this spidey shower gel. It's got a weird consistence, that's why I chose it. It's like... gel... mixed with water. Really. Uh. Slippery. :'D

I started a second part already (the next-morning type of thing) and a side part, where the mentioned first time fuck takes place. I have my fun, yeah!

>>55102

Thank you for reviving this thread. Can't wait for you to get your other pieces finished and posted.

it's fun.

>>55390

Hahaha I will never get tired of these things.

>>55163
no problem! Like I said, it's fun for me :3

>>55430
me neither, that's why I've done this xD


And here's the first-time-fuck-fic. haha!
Plays in phase 1, they're on tour for their first album.
The random stranger is... just some random stranger, who's gay, apparently.
Especially for coq, by the way... don't know if I'll upload it somewhere else. Have fun~!

_______________________________
Slowly, slowly. No hectic, it was late enough. He was almost there...
Fuck, he drank too much. 2-D lurched around in the side-street, together with some other guy, who obviously tried to help him. They searched for the tourbus. It was big enough, he was sure of that, but somehow it fleed from his sight or something. Ran away when it saw them. Wouldn't wonder him in the slightest, today was a weird day anyway.
The four of them just finished a concert when they decided silently that they'd party seperately. Though he was sure there was something going on in the bus... But what did he care, he wanted to sleep. Just some sleep to ease the effects of the alcohol mixed with his meds. It was never a good idea, yet he never thought about the results. He was dizzy. He felt sick. And above all, especially above him, the mighty hands of great Mister Headache stretched out, grabbing him, making him all shaky.
Suddenly, he bumped into something. Maybe the bus?, he thought as he fell down. "..chhhh....", he made. His hands felt odd, somehow they heated up and tingled. So he fell on the ground. Good to know. Oh wait... wasn't there a man a few seconds ago, holding him up?
"Sorry.", he heard, "Lost my step. Here." The stranger offered his hand to him and he gladly took the offer. "Err... thanks.", he said. And he meant it. Without the stranger he'd be lost exactly here on the ground, maybe freezed to death, and he would be unfreezed 200 years later just so he...
Something drilled into his head, most likely a voice. "Hey? Everything okay?"
"Yea, sure.", he mumbled and began to walk again, "Uh, wer almos' dere. Jus', uh, ye know, ye can drop me off somewhere. I dun care."
...wait, what?
"No, wait. Tha' was jus'... ahhh, my head..."
2-D remembered a few things. He was at that club, someone offered him a drink, which happened more often since they toured around, and he drank. And then...?
"I see it.", said the head-drilling voice, "There."
He was... dead drunk. If that man didn't help him, he would wander around like a zombie all night. "Okay, here we go. Yer okay? Can ye get yerself in?", the stranger said.
"Sure. I... I can.", he said and collapsed. His legs didn't want to work anymore. He grinned. 'Then ye don't get paid, fuckers.'
"The doors locked.", the man said. 2-D shrugged. Or wanted to shrug. He didn't know what he was doing, anyway. The man bowed down to him. He was pretty drunk, too, he could tell. "Lemme help ya up there.", he said and trying to get him up, he collapsed, too. They both giggled as they lied on the ground, the man above him. As they calmed a little, the voice drilled again.
"Yer pretty... pretty. For a freak.", he said. "Why, thanks.", 2-D replied, "Could ye get... offa me..."
"No, actually. No, I dun wanna." He giggled again, "Fuck, I have a hard-on. Yer just too... ye know. Pretty."
'Ye already said that.', 2-D thought and tried to move around to get the weight off him.
"Wot are je strugglin' for?", the stranger whispered.
"I'm tired. I wanna go to bed... sleepin'.", he whispered back. Whyever he whispered, too. Then he heard the voice drilling a little more slowly - "Yer so cute...", it said - and then there were lips on his own.
The realization took place a few seconds later. The man kissed him. Forcefully kissed him, to tell the truth, and, what the hell, whatever. He joined in.
Everything happened really fast, like someone speeded the situation up. The stranger pushed up his shirt, touching his torso everywhere and because 2-D didn't know what else to do, he did the same with him.
There was no room to think anymore. Seventy percent were occupied by his painkillers, twentyfive percent by the alcohol he consumed and the other five percent were snatched away by the stranger.
The kiss already stopped a few seconds ago, the other man's lips were all over his body now but immediately stopped at his waistline. He mumbled something, 2-D understood just some bits. "...never thought... amazing... " Then he looked up and smirked. "I thought ye wanted te sleep?", he said louder, pulled down his trousers and ditched them away.
Well, what should he say to that. He felt a little overwhelmed by the whole situation. The man was right, he did wanted to sleep and now he lied in front of the tourbus, with some man sitting on his legs, staring at his penis. Warm hands grabbed his waist and pulled him up so that he now sat against the bus. One of these warm hands held him up, so he didn't fall over, and the other pulled out his already erected dick. Then he fiddled around in his jeans, putting out a little can, which he opened with a 'clack'. These actions were done in a few seconds and 2-D just stared at the fast movements of the other. He withdrew a bit of the cream in the can and and rubbed it over his erection, everything fast fast fast.
There was no room to talk anymore. They heated up too quick. He just heard the quiet and impatient panting of the other man as he lifted him up a little, spreading some cream over his hole, and then he felt a creme-covered finger up his arse. And yelled out in surprise. "Wot...!" ... are ye doin'?, he wanted to say but a rough kiss of the stranger silenced him.
"Relax. It's jus' sex," he whispered in his ear and a shiver run down 2-D's spine. Every little sensation made him more and more excited, the touches everywhere, the moving finger inside him and even the head-drilling voice of the man. Then everything stopped. "...huuh...?", he made irritated and tried to figure out what... and then the man forced himself into him before he could---
2-D moaned out loud, and the other one with him. Was it pain or lust? It happened too fast, every fucking thing rushed past him, he couldn't tell the difference, and it didn't matter anyway. The man moved inside him, back and forth, back and forth. When his pantings speeded up, the movements of the other did the same.
"Huhhh... God...", the man gasped, driving in harder, "Yer... yer so good... haaah!" He reached for 2-D's erection and got him off while he thrusted a few times more, coming inside of him with a cracked moan. His head was a complete mess. The stranger gave the five percent of his ability to think back, but they were immediately filled with the post-orgasmic whirlpool.
Panting, the man rested his head on 2-D's shoulder, who was gasping, too. "Whoa...", he made. He could hear the smirk in his drilling voice. "Never thought.... I'd ever fuck you... I... haah, I have to... catch my breath!" He laughed and caughed, getting his head up. They stared at each other.
"I... wanted it so bad.", the man said and stood up, rushing his arm over his forehead.
2-D just wanted to sleep. He wanted it before and now he wanted it even more. "Yer okay?", he heard and nodded slightly. "Here, put on yer pants. I dun wanna let ye lay here naked, 2-D"
No reaction. 'Jus' lemme sleep...'
The man exhaled and dressed him. 2-D just felt hands fumbling around him, then he was lifted up. He let out a few negativing moans, he was too tired to say anything. He trifted somewhere between the state of sleeping and awakeness. A knock made him a little more alert. What's happening? Don't sleep yet, soon, not yet, not yet...
"Congratulations.", he heard from a well known voice, "Lemme get 'im for ye."
He was handed over, he could feel it. The grasp of Murdoc was harder than the man's.
_______________________________

English isn't my mother-tongue by the way, so don't wonder about grammar or syntax-mistakes. They aren't intended, most of the time.

I draw alot, too, so expect some things in the next few days. I'm just... so much into this fandom atm... and I love it ¦3~

Whoo, first one. It's not as good as it could've been but well. I'm still experimenting. and WTF am I saying, it's not even inked, let alone colored xD
Expect... better pics.

Anyone have that picture of Murdoc and 2-D in suits, and Murdoc does his tie for him?

Trying to show a friend. It'd be appreciated!

>>56825
This~?

Also, it seems we be auto sage

>>57296
Yes! That's it, thank you. It was in one of the earlier boards, but they have sadly been lost =(