The cripply troll without a name and his jacket

The cripply troll without a name and his jacket
a fanfiction.

You don't tell anyone your name and sit all day curled up on a couch. You're deaf, blind and you have no arms.
Why the fuck even?
Today is just a shitty day like always. People poke and pap you, trying to talk to you. Why won't they understand you don't want to talk to them? All you do is sniff and tell them to leave you alone.
Today it's really quiet in the café/bar. You sit there and look around. No one's here except you and your beloved jacket full of weapons. You don't talk much to your flushcrush. All you do is snarl to admit your love to it. You can't do anything else. Whenever you try to say ''I love you'' you fail miserably.

But today you decided to try.
You nuzzle your jacket a little in affection, murmuring something. No one would ever understand what the fucking hell you murmur.
You look around again. Still no one here. You kiss your jacket quickly and try to say ''I love you''. You fail again.
Instead, you sniff your way up the stairs to an empty room.  How great, human beds. You snarl and slip your jacket off on the bed and lean over, whispering something completely dumb.
You try to wiggle out of your pants, but how? You have no arms. Dude how the fuck do you even piss? Wearing diapers?
You sit down next to your jacket and bend down, holy fuck are you elastic, and unbutton your pants with your teeth. You stand up again and shake your booty to make those pants go down. Now you try to get your boxers off as well if you even wear a pair.

Naked, you stand infront of your jacket, you guess. Well you can't see your jacket anymore, but you bet it's still as beautiful as before. You lay down on your jacket and grind slowly against it. Shit the fabric is so soft and bumpy because of the weapons in it. You hiss and let out a low groan, grinding slightly faster.
Taking control over something during pailing is the best thing ever to you.
Your bulge is painfully hard and throbbing. You keep thrusting in your lovely jacket, and you like the feeling. AND SUDDENLY A FUCKING GHOST APPEARS. Holy fuck but you don't even notice. You're deaf and blind you moron. All the ghost does is watch and record it to show it everyone later. We'll ''see'' later.
Sweat starts dripping down your forehead and you don't know if you can grind much more harder.
You're feeling close.
You love this feeling. It makes you forget about the pain.
You're giving your jacket one last weak thrust and jesus, you cum all over it. All this weird genetic material.
You sniff at your jacket. Man, you love the smell of your jizz on your jacket.
Panting softly, you lay down next to it and you nuzzle against it. Deciding to stay upstairs for a while until someone walks in the café/bar (then you'd go ninja mode and sit on the couch already), you finally whisper to your jacket ''I love you''.

~From Aquilo.