i like ur funny words magic man

as soon as they see you walk through the bar doors, dragging your feet behind as if they were heavier than dunk's weights, they know they have to be more thorough than usual that night.

and oh! if they are not thorough.

usually, it will start like this.

volt will see you, all miserable and pouting like a sick puppy, and take pity on your silly existence. he'll redirect the attention elsewhere in the club as he guides you to eddie's quiet presence at the counter. and then you'll sit in comfortable silence while eddie prepares the customers' drinks.

but later— much later, when it's just the three of you and the soft music in the background, they will pounce on you.

volt's the first one to take a bite.

your body is positioned on all fours on the nearest surface, cunt being taken from behind. volt's movements are slow but brutal. he likes to take his time with you, sliding his cock almost all the way out until your entrance is barely being parted by his tip, and then he waits. the seconds pass— tik tik tik, you can almost hear timothy timepiece in your head. you wait and wait, and when (and only when) you can no longer resist the agony, your disobedient hips pushing back against his cock, does volt finally push back in.

and god! the wait is so worth it. propelling himself with his thick thighs, volt fills you to the brim, aiming for that sweet spot he knows will make you moan ugly (moan like you meant it, not as if you were trying to imitate a pornstar, trained for the show and all fake).

the movement alone has your thighs quivering, unstable on the surface where they hold your weight. but volt won't let your legs give up, his rough palms locking your waist in place. forcing you to take it. every. single. time.

eddie, on the other hand, is watching you two from a corner.

he isn't far from you, pants low enough for him to pull out his cock and massage the entire length while he watches volt tear those pretty sounds from your puffy lips. that's something you learned a few weeks into the relationship, eddie loves to look from the sidelines, make himself desperate for it.

it works. both for him, and for you as well.

there's something so dirty about witnessing eddie get off on watching you and volt fuck. he starts slow, massaging from the base to the tip with lazy movements, as if he could hardly be bothered to do it in the first place. shyness, perhaps. but when your moans start to get louder, so do his movements. eddie's a man who knows how to use his hands, yet– when he's really turned on they become uncoordinated, clumsy even. he doesn't have volt's patience, his need burns.

and you don't let yourself blink when it gets to that point. your eyes are fixed with laser focus on how his palm wraps around his length, in the harsh way eddie touches himself. you salivate the moment you get a glimpse of that pearl liquid that oh! looks so pretty on him.

“you were desperate for this, weren’t you live wire?” volt's saccharine voice states from behind, reminding you who is filling your cunt this very moment. who's in charge of your pleasure. “i swear i could smell your arousal from across the bar. it was quite a distraction.”

you open your mouth to try to answer, probably to deny those accusations with bashfulness— even though they all know it's nothing but the truth, when eddie finally joins in the fun. he takes the chance to fill your mouth with cock, somehow coordinating it with the rhythm of volt's thrusts. they're weird like that, knowing where the other is going to be before it even happens.

you are just the lucky victim that suffers the consequences.

“maybe we should make you the star of the next show, expose to the rest of the house what an enthusiastic lover you are in bed. what do you think, eddie? wouldn't that be an interesting twist?”

eddie's hips buck at the suggestion, making you choke from how deep he's in your throat. you love it. you're so full of cock that that's all you can think about, words flying over your head. anxieties gone.

"b-better than johnny splash, that's for sure.” he groans, looking straight into your eyes. 

oh. 

they keep talking, or at least that's what you think. their voices become a distant murmur drowned out by the ringing in your ears and the fluttering of your walls.

you sure cum that night. one, three, five times. honestly, you lose count after the first orgasm. your boyfriends flip you over, change positions and spill their loads in your holes until your mind is in that foggy state where nothing matters but your pleasure and your pleasure alone.

because they know.

they know that when the objects in your house push you a little too far what you need is for them to fuck your worries out of your body.

and when you finally come down from that ninth cloud, your body crashing hard, they are right there to pamper you. to give you back the amount of care you give to others but never to yourself.