It was so fucking dumb

Karl can't believe that he'd even thought about it, but he had and now he couldn't stop.

Sapnap and Quackity had jokingly mentioned the fact that "Karl loves monster so much that he always wants it inside of him" and, of course, they made dirty jokes out of it together with the boys on stream because it was funny and that was what you were supposed to do. Joke about it and then forget about it.

But Karl couldn't fucking forget about it.

Every time he pulled out a monster can his mind flew back to the stupid fucking joke. "He always wants it inside of him."

It was so fucking stupid and if you'd have told him 2 months ago that right now, he would be sat on his bedroom floor with a full and sealed can of monster genuinely debating fucking himself with it, he would have slapped you across the face and called you a fucking moron.

But he was. He was thinking about it. And he was probably going to end up doing it. He was half-hard already, pushing the heel of his hand down onto his cock to relieve some pressure, a slight moan escaping his lips.

Fuck it.

He was home alone, Sapnap, and Quackity was out shopping and George & Dream were staying at Dream's mum's for dinner so he had around 3 hours until anyone was home.

That gave him enough time.

So he stood up, took a deep breath, and moved onto the bed. He pushed down his sweatpants harshly, his boxers coming down with them As he reached into the draw for lube. And he'd need a lot of it.

"Okay," he whispered to himself as he spread his legs and began lubing up four fingers, "you can do this."

He circled his hole slowly before he pushed in, the stretch not being too much but still being just enough to make him bite down on his bottom lip and his breath stutter.

He began moving quickly, not wanting to waste any time.

The only thing more embarrassing than actually fucking yourself with a monster can would be your best friends, that you really wanted to fuck, walking in on you fucking yourself with a monster can

The second finger was easier, the stretch slowly becoming more bearable as time went on. He began scissoring his fingers, pulling them apart to draw quiet mewls out of his throat. He curled his fingers until he found his prostate with practiced ease, his head dropping back as he pushed in a third finger.

After he got the third in he had to pause, the stretch being almost too much.

Almost.