#<- is categorically not fine or normal

[dbphantom]

H20

did you mean: twenty hydrogens: just add hydrogen

we are going to have

[trickstersaint]

Poems about not wanting to kill yourself are a mood need more of ‘em 🔥🔥‼️‼️🗣️🗣️ /lh

shout out to not wanting to kill yourself for real it's so awesome. highly recommend! i'm having a great time writing poems about it haha

[space-spring]

I've officially returned to the level of health stuff where the options for treatment are "meds with terrible side effects in both the short and long term" and "surgery to remove even MORE of my intestines" and man. I am holding my head in my hands despair-style about it

[dragonji]

stress-reorganized my closet bc I was upset about a roommate situation but it looks way better so whos really losing here

[milfronin]

.

[mattynmarns]

.

[fingertipsmp3]

I love when you spend like a week beating yourself up over something and then find out you literally didn’t need to because you had the facts wrong. You were wrong and therefore you are right.

[toytulini]

I mean, like the above tags, this is just not how i categorize anything i listen to

[shiredded]

Happy father's day!

This poll is about estranged fathers. If you are not estranged, congrats! You all get to share one answer.

Good lord! This sure did go. I'll answer some confusion as best I can.

This is a poll about estranged fathers. I'm interested in the timelines of people who don't talk to their dads.

Because I am interested in estranged fathers, I basically categorized everyone who is NOT estranged into one answer. If you have spoken within the last few hours or weeks: congratulations! You are within normal relationship parameters.

If it's been more than a month, something odd may be going on, especially if your culture normally observes father's day. After a year, it's definitely not normal.

If you want to be more specific within that month, make a poll, it's fine! No need to get mad, go hug your dad!

The results (aside from the volume holy shit) are pretty much what i expected: the vast majority of people are not estranged. Within that, some love their dad, some do not. But I don't personally care how recent contact was if it was within the last month.

I'm not trying to make a commentary about how fathers are all awful and everyone should reject them. I'm not an authority on dads either.

I am not "everyone" and I am not "tumblr"

I'm literally just a guy.

There's no goal here to try to fill every slot evenly, nor a message that you should.

Not every poll is all inclusive, and not every poll is about you.

For those who it is about, I see you. Father's day is weird for us, especially when surrounded by people who like their dads. We are rare in the grand scheme of things, and that's a good thing. But estrangement is about loneliness, either ours or his.

It's raw for some of us, an old scar for others, and for me: a turning point in life where everything started to get better. A year becomes two, a decade another, and someone who consumed your life becomes a part of the past so distant you stop remembering it so well.

We may not have dads, but we have each other.

[hoothootmotherf-ckers]

the hardest thing about chronic pain to me is how it makes me doubt my own brain.

I have chronic pain. specifically chronic migraines. and the hard thing about that, or neurological pain in general, or really just so fucking many different chronic pain conditions, is there is no proof.

there's no scan a doctor can do to show my pain level or symptoms. you can't look at my head and go "huh, looks fucked up, probably a 8/10 pain." absolutely everything I experience, in order to be understood by a medical professional or even just anyone really, has to be self-recognized and self reported.

and that requires so many steps and levels of trust. like just to fucking start, I have to be aware that the invisible thing I am experiencing is not a thing everyone feels! which again, fucking invisible! Then I have to be aware it's happening at all, which sounds basic but with chronic shit is not. I had to explain to a doctor this week that I do not know if I ever experience "normal" or low-level headaches, because I'm so used to severe migraines that anything below that doesn't register. Sometimes it even takes hours for me to notice I'm having a migraine!

and then I have to be able to assess my own pain, judge how bad it really is, when after nine fucking years my scale is goddamn broken. and the longer I've had a migraine, the further out of whack it goes. I have to recognize and categorize my symptoms, one of which is fucking brain fog, and I have to communicate these very nebulous and abstract concepts to other people.

And then. And then they have to actually believe me. I have to convince them I'm not lying, I'm not looking for attention or drugs or pity or excuses. with zero hard proof, just my words. and then it cycles, because if people doubt my pain, I start to doubt my own experiences. I start to think I'm being a wimp, I'm faking it, I can try harder. so then I downplay it, so then I think it's fine, so I push through it, and this works great until I am fully fucking incapacitated.

and then people are shocked and surprised because I "look healthy."

it has taken fucking years for me to accept that what I am experiencing is real and people who doubt me can go fuck themselves. and it's still very much a work in progress. every single day.

but my pain is real. and so is yours. and people who doubt us can, to reiterate, go fuck themselves.

[isaacathom]

have come to the conclusion that apparently a core property of ghosts, in my mind, is the ability to walk through walls. if the ghost cannot do that, then its a not a ghost, and you need to scooby doo bust that bad boy

[ciciyup]

Yandere! Apollo X fem! Human reader headcanons.

cw: Little nsfw, obsession, possessiveness, dark themes, cheating? (I don't know how I should categorize it, but it's not a direct hoax), angst, kidnapping, forced marriage.

🏹 a/n: This is the first yandere! What do I do, I hope I did well. I was feeling quite inspired so I think a little story formed as well.

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

Apollo has never been one to worry, he is the epitome of beauty, no other God in the pantheon was as beautiful as he was. Being surrounded by women and men who are not only there beside him, but also queue for his attention, is something Apollo enjoys, attention and all eyes on him was something he loved.

He doesn't need to lower himself and have less, he must have all the best, that includes the most beautiful people, which was not a problem. Nymphs, goddesses and even mortals, rained down on him in droves, although the latter could not matter less to him.

Sometimes, among the millions of mortals that inhabited the earth, Apollo chose those who could stand out the most and had a unique beauty to take them with him. Sure they had always been adventures, he had fun with them, but that was all.

On one of his many trips around the earth he found you. He saw you picking oranges from a large tree, carefully storing them in your basket that was almost full. You were... Perfect. Your hair moved in time with the pleasant breeze of the day, your eyes were brighter than the stars, your smile could heal sore eyes, your voice was like hearing the singing of angels. You were so beautiful.

He didn't care much about you at first if he had to admit it. You seemed very common, very normal, just another mortal woman, however, something made him go to you. He didn't need to do much, just introduce himself and talk nonsense. You were nothing but nice and kind, you offered to help him find his way if he was lost, you asked him if he was hungry and offered him an orange.

He just looked for silly excuses to make more time and get to know you better, he lamented when you told him that your family was waiting for you and you couldn't stay. He watched your form as you left his vision until you were lost, your beautiful floral dress disappearing into the crowd and being replaced by sad shades of colors from people walking on their own path.

What made you so special? Was it the way you were so kind and modest with everyone else? Was it the way you saw things? Apollo, not having enough, kept seeing you regularly on different occasions, strangely always appearing out of nowhere when you were alone in some places or doing your own tasks. At first, it didn't seem strange to you, you thought it was just a coincidence, which made Apollo take advantage of your naivety even more.

Apollo thought you would fall at his feet as soon as he saw you, he wouldn't even need three days to leave you enchanted, but then it happens and he hits reality. He discovers that you are not interested in him in the slightest, at least not in the way he wants. You don't even worship the gods, you're not interested in them, you don't bring offerings or pray to them like other mortals. You don't lose yourself in him, you don't beg for attention, you don't adore him, you just see him as if he were just another man and that made Apollo's blood boil.

So when Apollo proposes to you and to go with him, you politely decline, feeling flattered, but refusing because you don't love him and you don't feel the same way. Apollo's face contorts, his brow furrows quickly and he tries to hide his inner side as best he can. His ego felt hurt, was he rejected by a mere mortal?

You move on with your life, Apollo seemed to have taken it well and wasn't upset, that's what you believed after he left. When you think everything is fine, he arrives silently to take what is his, what belonged to him from the beginning. No more games, there would be no more facades of the just and understanding God, he lets the true face of the coin come to light, then you don't have time to react.

He takes you, sees you walking towards your house and surprises you there. Your basket falls with a thud and the fruit falls scattered all over the floor, but no one else was there anymore.

Upon arriving at his kingdom, Apollo introduces you to it as your new home, showing you all the places keeping you close, holding your wrist so you wouldn't run away, even though there was nowhere to run, you were too far from earth and you wouldn't be coming back, he would make sure of that.

You resist for a long time, you don't want to talk to him or look at him or kiss him or touch him, you don't want his presence. Apollo doesn't want to be mean to you, he really doesn't, but your impertinence pissed him off, and when you didn't learn things there were consequences.

He pushes you into a room after you refused to sleep with him in what would be your shared room, the room was cold and almost empty, it had a mirror and a small couch, it didn't seem to be very frequented by anyone, since you could even see cracks in the walls. He dared to leave you there for almost four days, without seeing you even once, without leaving you food or water or any other basic resources, and when he decided to see you, believing that you had learned your lesson, he found you on the floor of the room almost dying.

You were pale, your lips dry, you could barely move, your stomach hurt from the lack of food and your throat was crying out for some water.

As he carried you to his shared room and laid you there, as he watched you eat the food voraciously and drink more than six glasses of water, as he watched you rest covered by the finest and warmest blankets on his bed, yes, now you would learn that things would be his way, you had no say in any decision, you would only focus on him.

And even after you became his beloved, faithful and devoted wife with the finest jewelry and the most beautiful dresses, he would remain the same, not even for you would he change. As you sat on a rock in front of the beautiful landscape of the place thinking about everything he had taken from you, Apollo was no less than a meter away from you in the hot springs with the nymphs at his side, each one laughing and talking to him, hugging and tracing his chest with their thumbs at the slightest opportunity. He relaxed with each one, every now and then, ignoring your presence, ignoring your pain.

Still, he refused to let you go. He didn’t care about silly nymphs, they were just for hanging out and feeling adored, if he didn’t have you he had nothing. He wanted you by his side, in the hot springs, on another throne next to him, in meetings with other gods, he wanted you.

It was only a matter of time, he would fuck you so hard you would carry his child and then he would finally have you with no chance of escape. He would take you every night in his marital bed and fill your belly until it was full and swollen, he would bury himself deep inside you to fill you again and again with his seed and he would claim you. You were his. You were from the first moment he saw you.

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

🏹 a/n: I didn't think I would like it so much but in the end I really liked the result. I wrote it in less than two hours, although it is revised I am sorry if there are any errors. I was thinking of doing more yandere! For other characters, I like the theme. I have ideas for the next one so wait for it (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

—cici🏹

[drdemonprince]

ok fine cis men aren't the bad gender it's all men and we're all exactly like that anon who admitted to having abused women even if we don't know it. are you fucking happy now? is this the solidarity you want us to feel with cis men, that we're all just as mich rapists and murderers of women as they are? you have some fucking nerve to be throwing vague jabs while calling an admitted abuser "brave"

Normally I don't platform asks like these, but I'm moved by the genuineness of your emotional reaction here. I think you're hurting, and you've been hurt, and that the belief that abuse and violence are located within one gendered group (to which you don't belong) has felt like a way of organizing your world that has helped you make sense of things, and given you guidelines for how to act and whom to trust that have helped keep you safe. I think a lot of assault survivors feel that way when they're not cis men and their attackers were cis men.

As someone who has experienced a ton of sexual predation at the hands of cis women, cis men, and even other trans people, I don't feel the same way. There is no "bad gender" I can chalk up my abuse to. I find there are no easy means of categorizing entire people as abuser or as victim either -- I have known so, so many people who have occupied both roles depending upon the power they wielded and the social context of the moment. Hell, one cis lesbian that I knew who was infamous in her community for raping trans men would always tell her victims that her acts were those of "trauma recovery," of her "reclaiming" her power after men had stolen it away.

Even she, I don't think, is irredeemable or ontologically evil.

I'm an abolitionist. That's a core value through which a lot of my political action and beliefs flow. If you're not on board with the project of abolitionism, you'll find much to object to here, and most of your objections are things I will refuse to entertain, because I do not believe human beings are disposable no matter what they do, and I don't believe that anyone should have the authority to deem another human being as disposable.

An abolitionist politics is incompatible with the idea that some people or some groups are inherently bad. It's incompatible with the belief that abuse and violence comes from evil. It's a worldview that holds that people do harm because of social structures and networks of power that must be destroyed -- systems like the patriarchy, cissexism, anti-Blackness, ableism, capitalism, and more. And I think one of the ways that we conquer such oppressive systems is by raising the consciousness of all the people trapped under it -- so that we can topple it together. I want trans men and cis men alike to realize they have some skin in the game.

You don't have to associate with the men you don't want to associate with. If, because of repeated abuses at the hands of men, you can't ever trust them, well, those are your feelings, that's your life, that is your business. But when your personal feelings of safety are used as a justification for developing and promoting a worldview with transphobic, transmisogynistic implications, I'm gonna talk shit about that on my stupid little blog. And I'm gonna continue conducting my life in the way I feel I should.

And for me, that means forging common ground between trans men and cis men, and pushing both groups to take women's concerns seriously (especially trans women's concerns) and to stop centering themselves in feminist dialogue. There's a place for both trans men and cis men in the gender revolution, but we gotta do a lot of work on ourselves to stop getting in the way. It's work I'm emotionally equipped to do and find rewarding, and it's fine if you don't. There are lots of other people who need support that you can focus your energies on -- other survivors of abuse and assault that you perhaps find it easier to relate to. That's important work too, and I wish you well in doing it. Just make sure you're not excluding trans women in that work or I'll continue to be annoying about it on my stupid little blog.

[eddiernunson]

Selfish | Steddie x Fem!Reader | 18+

Summary: Reader is torn as she wants two people at once, and she figures it's impossible...in the sense that they would never want her. She is proven wrong after making an accidental audience with Eddie one night...

Warnings: voyeurism, perv!Eddie, public smut, masturbation (f + m), a little bit of Steve x reader, double penetration...and lots of self indulgent writing.

Authors' Note: Yeah this is just self indulgent. That's all. I'd want them both. <3

Word Count: 10.8k

Selfish.

On a regular day, it’s hard not to feel completely selfish. There’re a million different voices in your head telling you to make a damn choice. Not just telling, but begging. 

Not just in your head, but in your life. Your friend and confidant, Robin is one of the many voices telling you so.

You can’t help it, it started so innocently. During the course of the school year, you happen to start thinking that Eddie Munson is damn fine. Your paths barely cross, only seeing him across the cafeteria at lunch or the occasional party to sell. Something about him drew you in. His hair, his hands, his strong forearms, his lust for life, that slutty little waist… He is enticing, hypnotising.

It’s not like you’re ever going to get with someone who you’ve never spoken to unless you somehow drag him into a hallway closet. Oh, isn’t that idea ever tempting?

It’s an uneventful day at school, save for the random graffiti anonymously placed on each class room door. There were several suspects, the perpetrator found but not announced, much to the entire school’s dismay.  

When Robin meets you at your regular table, she has a litany of complaints up her sleeve. If you don’t stop her, she can talk for hours about any given subject that passes through her brain. At this point, from an entire summer and autumn working with her on top of spending many hours shooting the shit with her, you’re ridiculously used to it. You might even call it charming.

As usual, you listen with an empathetic, yet distracted ear. Your eyes flicker to Munson every now and then, appreciating the way his muscle shirt shows off his toned arms. Usually, they’re engulfed by his large leather jacket, but on this unusually hot autumn day he is taking advantage of the warmer weather.

Oh, and so am I, you think to yourself, eyeing him up and down appreciatively.

Your eyes flicker back to Robin, holding back a giggle at her expression. She knows about your crush of course, not that you’d tried to hide it. Robin would come up with schemes to set you up with him, but there’s one little obstacle.

“You’re shameless, you know that?” She accuses, a half smile on her face. She’s being playful, as always. “One of these days, you’re going to have to make up your mind.”

This conversation is repeated, always on replay. It’s one of your little games. “I mean,” you start cheekily, “who said anything about talking to them?”

She shakes her head, quiet laughter leaving her lips. “You are impossible.”

See, Robin knew your secret. Not only were you infatuated with Eddie, but with your coworker as well. Steve.

Steve is a bit more realistic; you suppose. After all, you work part time with him, up to 25 hours a week. Most of the job is spent moving tapes from place to place, categorizing, and talking shit. Lately, even more than normal, you’re hypnotized by him, your eyes sometimes glazing over as you take in just how pretty his brown eyes are.

Man, do you have a thing for brown eyes.

This usually eggs him on, thinking his words must mean something. They don't, really. You don’t take in a single word of what he’s saying. You’re just admiring him, his pretty lips, the freckles decorating his skin…

See, your problem is that you can’t decide on which one you’d want more…not that there’s any part of you that remotely thinks you would have that luxury. You’re not possibly conceited enough to believe that you would have a choice. Really, if it came down to it, (emphasis on if), it would be which one would choose you.

And they have so much better to choose from.

So, you let yourself imagine it. There’s certainly no harm in the what if.

“Not impossible, just horny.” You laugh, winking at the way she chokes on her water.

-

Steve pushes the cart of returns around, tapping his hands rhythmically on the plastic. You are on rewind duty, using a rewinder to go through each returned tape quickly and effectively. It’s a weekday, so business has been slow. Weekdays give more leeway on the display tvs, topics of discussion, and finally, to fuck around.

“Hey, Robin isn’t working today, right?” Steve asks, looking back at you.

You’re invested in the movie playing, leaning against the counter. “Hmm?” The question registers. “Oh, no she’s off on Wednesdays, remember? Band rehearsal after school.”

“Right, right.” He nods, something clearly on his mind.

“Something going on in that pretty little head of yours, Harrington?” You ask, switching the tape out for a new one.

He looks over his shoulder, licking his lips. “Pretty, huh?”

You roll your eyes, completely missing the way his eyes trail down your body. Your disregard of any possibility for a mutual attraction really is your blind spot. “You know you’re pretty, Harrington. Don’t play dumb.”

He shakes his head, pushing the cart along towards the romance section. “If you say so, sweets.”

You lick your lips, tasting the cherry ChapStick that deepens the shade of your lips into a darker red. Something about him is different today.

On the computer is a sticky note asking if the back room filled with unlabelled tapes could be organized and categorized. With the lack of customers, list of chores completed, and plenty of time left in your shift, you end up being bored enough to follow through. It won’t be done in one shift, but at least you’ll get it started. It’s a damn tedious process.

Not even twenty minutes pass by, a pile of marked and labeled tapes already to your left when the door to the back room shuts. You suspect for only a second that Steve needed to grab something, until you feel a pair of hands on your hips and hot breath on your neck. You freeze, gulping as you stare dead ahead at the tapes standing in a row. Your throat dries up like a drain unplugged, every limb freezing in place like you’re glued to the spot.

“Steve?” You ask after a moment passes.

He hums, thumb swaying up and down your hip, gently brushing past the hem of your shirt onto your bare skin. The other hand curtains your hair from your shoulder, trailing kisses down the curve of your neck. As a reflex you relax into it, sighing as you lean into his warm, wet, touch. The sensation flutters throughout your limbs, turning every bone, every muscle, into gelatin.

Your head falls back against his shoulder as his teeth scrape across your skin decorated with goosebumps. Your relaxed disposition is short lived, freezing up when your mind catches up to what the hell is happening. “Wait—” you protest, head snapping up in a frenzy.

He holds your face, turning it towards him. Eyes are hooded, looking tired, but from his dilated eyes you can tell he’s anything but. “What?”

“We-we’re at work, Steve, someone can come in at any moment…”

He listens, partially, barely. His eyes flicker down to your lips, all shiny and tugging him in. “Is that your only protest?” Your heart races, feeling as if someone is pulling at the corners of your mouth as you hesitantly nod. “No one has come in for over an hour, and I locked the door and turned the sign around. We won’t be bothered.”

“Oh.” A gasp leaves your lips as he leans in for a kiss, mouth deliciously open against yours. He demands full control, his fingers spreading across your neck. Your body turns to face him, grabbing onto the collar of the polo shirt he wears under his green vest. You can barely keep up with him, giggling out of pure, absolute, giddiness.

His hand runs up your torso, shaking yet demanding. Your vest is pulled down your arms, his hand pulling you against him. He starts kissing down your neck, pushing you so his arm and your back collide with the shelf behind you. A startled gasp fills the small room, your feet shuffling as the mixed sensations create a pool in the bottom of your stomach.

“Look at you, so pretty, you feelin’ good?” You nod, a hand twisting under his shirt and grabbing at his bare torso. His voice is dripping in husk, gorgeous in a way you’ve only ever pictured.

“Uh huh,” you manage to choke out.

He doesn't falter at his multitasking, his expert tongue working against yours as his hands work the button of your jeans open and the zipper down. “Let’s see how soaked you are...” The joints where your jaw is attached to your skull feels as if they vanish as your jaw drops open and Steve places his hand on your thin, cotton panties.

“Shit, honey, you are soaked.” He mutters, a sly half smile on his face.

“Jesus,” you whimper as he gently teases you.

He wastes no time, pushing your pants down your ass, watching as he exposes you with a stupid level of intrigue. “Baby, you know how pretty your pussy is, just dripping wet, jus ‘for me?”

He slips a finger in, reaching the deepest depths, somewhere yours never fucking could. He’s so fucking good at it too, watching your face as his thumb rotates on your clit, the pleasure from it more than you knew was possible. “S-Stevie,” you whimper, fingers clutching onto his shirt. “Oh, my god.”

“Wanted to see you like this for weeks, honey.” He adds another finger, his face watching and listening for every reaction you feed him. He eats them up like he’s been starving for you.

This information simply didn’t process, because there is no possibility this is true. None. “R-really?” You ask, leg moving up to get better access to your pussy.

Steve smirks, relishing in how you tighten around his digits. “Of course, honey.” His voice is like velvet, tender and smooth. He starts to move them faster, pumping them quickly, watching the breaths from your mouth grow shallower, your head falling back onto a shelf. “You think I don’t notice you watching me?”

Steve loves the reactions you give him, watching how you melt into putty in his hands. “You did?” It’s so close, he’s only started and you’re already being hurtled towards the edge.

“The way your thighs tense up, your eyes watching me, those pretty lips parted…” he explains, you have to give him credit for being much more observant than you had pegged him for. “Wanted to put my thumb in your mouth so many times, darling.”

“Why didn’t you?” You ask him, tensing up as you get close to your climax.

He laughs. You’re almost offended by his nonchalance. Is…is he not turned on, too? “We were surrounded by people, sweets. I have some self control, yunno.”

The reminder that you’re in the back room with him at work is on your mind, a hint of cockiness floods your head. “Evidently, not-not that much.”

He works his fingers harder, you’re not sure if it’s a reward or punishment for your words, but the orgasm is abrupt, overflowing your senses completely as you shake against the shelf. “There she is,” he mutters, fingers working you through every sensation he so expertly provides you.

He smirks as he watches the afterglow take over your face, biting his lip when your head finally lifts up to face him. Just when you think he couldn’t possibly get any hotter, he proves you wrong. You don’t doubt he will prove you wrong again. And again.

…and again.

You barely take a second to recover, hands fumbling down for his jeans button. “Kay, now I need you.” You urge him, grinning at the way his cock pops out against the fabric of his shirt. A hushed swear falls from your lips when you take in his size, bigger than you even thought he was.

And you thought he was huge.

“Yeah?” He asks, a droopy smile on his face when your eyes peer up at him.

You nod, wrapping your hand around him, jerking him off. He’s thick, the head flushed red and a vein wrapping around it. When his face crumples, a crease appearing between his eyes, you’ve already proven yourself right in your theory. “Please, Stevie.” You urge him, pulling his cock towards your entrance.

Your ass sits on an empty shelf, where it’s been resting since he fucked his fingers into you. When he slaps his cock, already leaking with precum, against your clit, you whine impatiently, silently begging for him. “I like when you ask so nicely. Do it s’more, will ya?”

“C’mon, Stevie, I want your cock, so fucking bad. I’ve pictured this so many times, I fucking need it. Please.” You don’t mention anything about a third party usually being present, but that could come up, maybe…

Steve grins, marveling in the way your voice is so pathetic for him. It’s even better than he imagined, by more than a million miles. A part of him is greedy for you, greedy for even more proof of how badly you’ve wanted him, despite the clear evidence from the first time he clocked it.

At the time, he wondered if he was picturing it, the way your eyes were unfocused and shifted down at his arms. He was barely flexing them, when he did experimentally, he watched your breath literally hitch, eyes hurriedly switching back to his face.

It took a few more days of experimentation, but he finally confirmed it when the evidence was too congruent to think otherwise.

He’s even more greedy for you, having spent many nights thinking about you bent over, on your knees, on your back, riding him, you name it, he’s thought of it.

He can ask you to continually beg for him another time, right now he’s just desperate for you, so he ignores the call to ask you to beg even more and pushes the head in.

The gasp, your jaw dropping, the swears that fall from your lips and invade the quiet room, the way your pussy sucks him in, everything about your reaction is perfect to him. The feeling is likewise, watching in real time as his eyes darken for you, and for you alone.

He’s huge in a way you can’t even comprehend, frighteningly so.  Still, he starts thrusting, gently as he can muster, still stinging, regardless. He knows he should wait, he has to every time he’s with someone new, but god damn if your pussy wasn’t the best he’s ever felt in his life. His hips move wondrously, rolling them in a way that feels like magic.

You can’t help the yelps and the whines that fill the room, watching and combing your fingers through his famous locks. They’re so soft, despite the constant hairspray and hair products he uses. While the pain mostly overshadows the pleasure, the combination is beautifully laced together.

Boy, can he fuck better than you had imagined. While you have thought of some things while imagining him, nothing has ever even compared to all that he’s giving you.

The moans that pass through his mouth, the roll of his hips, the crumpled expression on his face…all things that your brain could never come up with. Sure, you thought he could talk dirty, imagined his long fingers instead of yours, maybe picturing the way you so desperately finger yourself; this wasn’t remotely close to what you imagined.

Hell, it wasn’t anywhere near what you had imagined.  

It’s so much better.

You whimper, stuttering on the S of his name, unable to finish it, too blissed to care.

“S-s, what, honey? What’s that you were saying?” He chuckles deeply when you tighten around him. “Oh, you like being talked down to, huh? Like being put in your place?”

You nod, pulling him for a needy kiss, losing any sense of concentration when his hand lands on your clit, rubbing it in the exact way you needed him to.

“I fucking knew you would, little whore getting fucked at work, taking his big cock like you were made to, fuck.” His thrusts get stronger, harder, faster, gasping wordlessly at how fucking good he is at it.

“Fuck, Stevie, you gonna breed me? Gonna cum in my pussy? Need it so fucking bad, please, please, pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

The smile that invades his face is cocky, watching you crumble under him. “Listen to your pretty voice beg for me, you really want me that bad, huh?” You nod, wondering how his hips hit harder. How was that possible? “Gonna breed you, honey, just keep being a good girl f’me, and I’ll fill you up, mmkay?”

You nod, watching the beads of sweat slowly coat his reddened face. One hand curls itself into the hair by the crown of your head, gripping tightly and watching the intense pleasure that takes over your face. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, no longer aware of any existence outside of this room, you’re here, only here, and will only be here.

“Shit, gonna fill you up, honey, need to feel you cum all over my cock, won’t you, please, sweets, need it—” while he thinks your begging is beautiful, his is just the thing to put you over the edge. The fluttering of your tight walls around him pulling the cum that fills you up beautifully.

His cock thrusts through the collective orgasm you feel together, the force of it pushing his load out of your pussy, you watch it leak past his length and down your thighs. It’s a sight that almost makes you cum again.

He smirks, catching his breath in time with you. He places kisses up your throat, taking in the way you tighten around him. Finally, you come back down to earth, the smell of sex in the room from your tryst overwhelming it. How much febreeze would it take to hide it? Your jeans are barely down to your knees, shirt ruffled, and hair a mess. Man, did you get caught up in him, his kiss, his scent, his cock.

A shy grin cascades across your face, watching as a piece of hair curls its way into his eye. “Hi, beautiful.” He greets, hand plastering itself onto your cheek.

“Hi.” You whisper, still pulsing around him.

“Did you enjoy it as much as I did?” He asks, biting his lip as his eyes look bored into yours.

“Probably more.” You admit, grinning cheekily. “You did all the work.”

He laughs in answer, placing a kiss on your cheek as he pulls out. The loss is stark, you suddenly feel so empty.

Oh, he did manage his entire length. Fuck.

“Was it everything you wanted?”

You flick an eyebrow up at him, tilting your head. “I don’t know, Harrington. You tell me.”

He laughs, winking at you. “Yeah, whatever.”

You wouldn’t exactly call yourself his girlfriend at this point because that certainly didn’t feel like an invitation for such. In fact, when Steve mentions his date coming up that weekend you don’t exactly feel heartbreak, just jealousy.

Whatever weird relationship you just started with him, coworkers with benefits or whatever, you are down for it. You're immediately wondering how often you’ll be in the back room with him, sharing cheeky looks across the room when he winks at you.

When he’s that good, it’s hard not to be.

-

Despite the urge to, you actually don’t tell Robin over the phone about your hook up with Steve. Something about the secrecy just makes it that much hotter. You lie, telling her the night was boring with customers appearing for their late returns.

The store is reopened, Steve grinning at you manically as he continues with his work. Well, if you can call putting the returns away “work”.

Your mom is at work for the night, taking a double at the hospital. She left twenty bucks on the counter for supper, leaving a note to order some take out. Well, pizza it is. You order the vegetarian deluxe, rolling your eyes at the wait time; forty-five minutes to an hour. Apparently, they are very busy tonight. Whatever.

You decide to kill time, running up to your room and jumping on your bed, kicking your panties off, keeping the sweatshirt you wear on. Your fingers happily dance themselves onto your clit, using some of the gift Steve left you as lubricant.

Sometimes, the person you imagine takes over for you, sometimes they simply put their cock in you, disguised in the form of a dildo. This time, they merely watch.

“That’s right, let’s see those fingers touch your pretty clit.” You imagine his voice, Eddie, picturing him watching you. “Little slut can’t even be satisfied with Harrington’s cock, huh?” He asks, and yeah, maybe you are a desperate slut ready for either man to take advantage of you. But who fucking cares, at this point? Your hand moves up to touch your tit, sneaking past the hem of your shirt, when your own imagination stops you. “No, you can touch yourself over your sweater, I’m letting you touch your pussy, isn’t that enough?”

Somehow it makes you moan desperately, massaging it pathetically. You shake your head, feeling a bit like a brat for the moment.

“No? Feeling greedy, huh?” He asks, you picture his dark brown eyes fixated on your pussy, fingers itching to touch you, just able to prevent himself from doing so.

You grin, nodding. “Please let me, I’ll be so good.” You take full advantage of no one being home.

“Hmm. Don’t think you will be…” He muses, and man, did you know what you liked. You desperately hoped he would know, too. “You already had Harrington’s cock today, and now you want someone else?”

“Yeah, she is quite a slut, ain’t she?” Oh, there he is.

The idea of the two of them here, watching you with dark eyes, both breaking at the seams at resisting the want to touch you, creates a new stir in you that feels nearly impossible.

“Look at how greedy she is, desperate for us, ain’t she?”  You picture Eddie agreeing, squatting right in front of your bed to get a closer look.

Suddenly you forget about the urge to beg them to let you touch your tit and move on to begging for them. Begging for one of them, at least, to finally take pity on you and just fuck you already. Why is this so enticing to you? Why does it draw you in so, like a moth to a flame?

Well, you suppose if the flame was two hot, gorgeous, capable men, you’d be drawn to it just as a moth is, despite how badly the heat burns you.

Your fingers grow faster, gasping more intensely as the scenario furthers in your mind. You’re about to push yourself over the edge, the whines from your throat loud and desperate, when the doorbell rings twice, one after the other. Fuck, the pizza’s here.

You completely forgot you even ordered food to begin with.

You rush to put a pair of sweats on, petting your hair down desperately as you pick up the 20 from the counter. The bell rings twice more, you yell “I’m coming, I’m coming!” at the impatient driver. Well, you would’ve been if they were just five minutes slower.

The door opens to face Eddie Munson, holding a pizza in his hand and wearing a dorky delivery driver visor. Huh, the last thing you ever expect him to wear is a bright yellow visor, the shade of American cheese, with a dripping piece of pizza on it, that’s for damn sure. Well, the last thing you expected was to see Eddie Munson, especially with what you were just doing, what you were just picturing. Well, this is awkward. For you it is, for him you guessed it was just another delivery.

You smile awkwardly, tossing him the 20 and trading for your pizza. He asks how much you want back as the order and the delivery fee only cost you 10 dollars in total. You insist he takes the ten-dollar tip, grinning when he blinks in disbelief.

As much as you want to stay and talk to him and get a better handle of his voice, you were so close, and you can feel it starting to drift away. You close the door with a frank thank you and slide the pizza on the counter, running up the stairs.

As the door slams in his face, Eddie’s eyebrows raise, finding the whole interaction peculiar. In fact, when you opened the door, he clocked the scent right away. With how wet you are, both your arousal and Steve’s cum dripping down your thighs, it flooded his nose. Eddie knows the smell of pussy and knows it well. You were in such a rush to get back to your own imagination, you didn’t notice the way his jeans started to tent at the crotch.

Eddie starts to shrug it off, accepting the tip and taking the hint that you wanted alone time, but a sound, enticing and wonderous, floats into his ears. He thought he was hallucinating, did…did he just hear his name?

He wanders past the gate to your backyard and looks up to an open window, not seeing you, but hearing the moans that leave your throat as you continue your mission. His jaw slacks open, listening to you beg for him, beg for his cock. God, now knowing he has such power over you is driving him insane.

His cock throbs in his jeans to the point of hurting, he grabs himself just for the tiniest bit of relief, slightly stroking himself to the sound of your voice. Eddie’s legs are restless, like he wants to go back to your front door and ask if you want his help. He nearly carries himself there, ready to devour you, his career as a delivery driver be damned.

He only makes two strides when the second thing that freezes him into place comes out of your mouth. The first was you openly begging for him, but the second one is hearing you add someone else’s name in the mix. Eddie mistakes it for the wrong name, but as you intertwine his with Steve’s, it becomes clear to him that he wasn’t the only one you were currently begging for.

Your voice gets higher, more urgent, the begging transitions from begging for them to fuck you, which, jesus, to letting you finish. Man, he loves the way your mind works. He slips his cock out, unable to resist relieving himself any further. His eyes flicker to your neighbors’ lights, he hopes no one would be nosey enough to peer into your backyard for the night.

Come to think of it, he’s actually not sure he would care all that much.

The symphony of strings of swears and whimpers that float down from your window only adds fuel to his fire. “Oh, baby, just letting anyone listen to you, if they really wanted to, huh?” Sometimes being vocal is his Achillies heel. He should shut up, especially perving like this, but it’s nearly impossible.

You beg his name, imagining him and Steve refusing again.

“Listen to you beg like a little slut, hmm?” He muses, regretting that there’s nothing for him to clutch on to.

“Eddie, m’ so close…”

“Not yet, doll.”  He chides, hoping you’ll play along.

A miracle happens, as if you know exactly what his intentions would be. “Stevie, please?”

“Hmm, don’t you dare, Harrington.” Eddie threatens, and now he really does want to join you.

“Please, I’ve been so good…”

Your insistence, your sweet voice begging for him, God, Eddie’s already so damn close himself. “Let’s hear it, baby.”

The stars align, because from the sounds of your whines that come from your window are just enough for Eddie to spill over his fist, spurts of his cum dripping onto the grass beneath him. From the sounds of it, your orgasm is something that makes your every muscle spasm, the kind that lingers for minutes after. While your mewls, and whines, and whimpers are practically perfect, Eddie really wishes he could get the visuals.

He sees a shadow move; he wonders if you just remembered you have food waiting. He’d better move from your driveway before you realize he’s still there.

On his way to drop off a pizza that is also waiting to be delivered, one he knows he will have to pay for himself after the wait, (worth it), an idea forms in his head that is just too good for him to pass up or call it like it is…insane.  

-

When you feel a repetitive tap on your forearm at lunch the following week, you believe Robin is trying to annoy you. You ignore her, focusing on the novel you’re reading while you shrug her off. At the clearing of someone’s throat, you finally look up.

Oh, shit.

Eddie stands in front of you, hands in his pockets as he nods to the seat right next to you. All you can do is nod, out of breath as he sits in the seat right next to you.

“I’ll uh, just get going.” Robin mutters, shooting you a smirk as she gathers her backpack and takes off.

You shoot daggers at her, anxiously twisting your hands under the table, gulping as your nerves flood your senses.

Eddie rests his jacket leather covered arms on the table, head turned towards you. “Enjoy your pizza?” He asks, a twinkle in his eyes you can’t quite place.

Your brows furrow, confused until it dawns on you. He was the one that delivered it. “Oh…it-it was good.” You smile, sighing nervously.

A lopsided smile takes over Eddie’s face, he watches as the wheels turn in your pretty noggin. Knowing what the confusion meant when they furrow until the realization hits you. It’s a breath of fresh air, really, knowing he didn’t need to worry about rejection, knowing how secretly desperate you are for him.

He nods, licking his lips. “Good, good.” The way you sit nervously, the subtle tensing of your thighs, you’re sweet, amusing, even. “You going to Harrington’s party this Saturday?”

You blink, taking in the sentence. “Huh?”

He chuckles, and the smile on his face is gorgeous. “Harrington. Know him?” You nod, eyes wide. “You going to his party?”

Steve literally invited you the day before, suggesting he might drag you into a closet or something. “Yeah, I am.”

“Wanna go with me?”

Yes. Yes, you do. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. “Sure.” You accept, leaning on your elbow, a shy smile on your face.

“Pick you up at 10?” Somehow, Eddie has the ability to make you feel breathless, and his skin hasn’t even grazed yours yet.

Hopelessly, desperately, you wait for Saturday. Over the week, Eddie has caught your eye across the cafeteria, shooting his cocky grin that continually melts you into a puddle.

That same cocky grin he gives you as he drives over to Steve’s. While Steve knows of your crush on him, he also was aware of how much you like Eddie. Honestly he’s just rooting for you, seeing the excited glint in your eye when you give him the news.

Every little part of you is wondering how it is possible that you might have the choice…when weeks ago you thought you had no possible chance with either of them. There’s a slight part of you wondering…wondering if you’d slipped into an alternate universe where the world is starting to work out in your favor. It feels plausible until you wondered why the hell you’d be going to work or doing homework in your perfect world.

Eddie’s hand rests on your shoulder as you enter, the music blaring from Steve’s living room. A crowd of sweaty teenagers jumping, grinding, dancing, filled to the brim with far too much alcohol. You’d barely said a word to him, stuck in your head as you accepted a red solo cup from him. He makes his own mix, a brown liquid you don’t recognize with some coke. Yours is a vodka-sprite mix, hoping the extra shot you pour will loosen you up a bit.

Or…a lot.

“Dance with me?” He asks, pointing to the living room as he takes a big swig.

You squint at him, already in the middle of taking a big gulp, wincing at the burn. “You dance?”

He shrugs, fingers tapping on the red plastic of his cup. “I do when pretty girls dance with me.”

You take another big gulp, already feeling the effects. What can I say, you are a lightweight. “Better go find one.”

Well, it seems the alcohol is doing its thing.

Eddie’s arm easily wraps around your waist, pulling you up against him. The look in his eye excites you, gulping as his hot breath is on your neck, enticing a shudder. “You little shit.” He mutters, a smug little grin on his face. “I was already asking a pretty girl for your information. I was giving you the privilege of asking, but now you have no choice.”

The cup nearly collides with your nose as he takes another swig, his eyes never leaving yours. His hand easily intertwines with yours as he tosses the cup over his shoulder, tugging you to the living room.

You follow him, hypnotized by his siren’s song. Eddie doesn’t have an inch of patience left in him, already antsy from the show you put on for him. He lets his hands wonder, holding you close to him and going everywhere, your hips, your thighs, your ass, even trailing under your tiny skirt. You don’t protest, inhaling his scent. The mix of body wash, cologne, and just him is mouthwatering.

He doesn’t ask, doesn’t need to from the way you melt in his arms when his lips finally land on yours. The reward of your moan vibrating into his mouth is just what he needs, the very reward he was looking for. You don’t have it in you to pretend you aren’t eager, your lips searching for his as soon as it registers. The kisses are urgent, fervent, and just the right amount of messy.

His knee makes its way between your legs, already mapping how easy it is to make you fall apart, even in the middle of a crowd. And do you ever fold in his arms even at the subtle touch of his hands on your skin, tongue on yours, the adrenaline in your veins… it’s enough to make you forget you’re in a crowd.

When his tongue lands on your throat, sending ripples of pure ecstasy down your spine. The moment he feels you start to grind on his thigh, he has you right where he wants you. His mouth dives into your ear, heated breaths sending a chill through you. “I’ll be right back.”

Confused, you catch his eye, faltering as his knee leaves where it’s stationed.

He winks, walking across the living room, feeling pretty smug at how he feels your eyes on the back of his head.

Now for his plan.

Steve invited a girl over for his party, deciding he’d do exactly what he had insisted he’d do with you. Instead, he’s mesmerized by how you and Eddie are grinding across the way from him. No matter how hard he tries, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the two of you, now wishing you were following through on said plans with him.

When Eddie’s lips met your neck, he feels entirely too restless, forcing himself not to place you in the middle of a sandwich he’d very much like to be a part of.

Now the girl is off with another dude having sought out a different sex buddy when Steve backed out, making out with some jock on his couch. Not that he cares, he’s barely noticed her. He’s far too busy being captivated by you and your date.

Speaking of your date, he attempts to look busy as soon as Eddie starts crossing the room, to where Steve assumed was the bathroom a few feet behind him. Boy, was he wrong. As Steve crowds into the wall, pretending to be staring off towards anywhere else, Eddie stops right next to him, observing Steve with a smirk.

Eddie started keeping track of Steve as soon as he got to the party, keeping mental tabs on him. It wasn’t hard, Steve’s eyes were glued the two of you, and it made Eddie’s plan ten times easier.

“Hi, Harrington.” He smirks, watching Steve’s shallow breathing and shifty eyes. Wasn’t very often he’s seen him lack confidence, and it’s almost too easy to get the two of you to dance how he wanted. “Enjoying the show?”

Steve falters, batting his pretty eyelashes as he processes it. “I-I’m not sure what you mean.”

Eddie rolls his eyes with his arms crossed. It certainly doesn’t help that Eddie had used every one of the tools in his belt. Shown off his arms, put some care into his hair, wore a shirt that was just a little too short for his torso…

As planned, it was working like a charm. “C’mon Steve, those pretty eyes of yours were burning a hole into the back of my head the entire time. Or…were you not watching the way she grinded on my leg?”

Steve’s eyes flicker to you, having now moved back into the kitchen to get another cup of alcohol. His eyes meet Eddie’s again, gulping, not able to find it in himself to deny any further. “Okay, so I was. It’s basically impossible not to.”

Eddie’s smile grows, his teeth just barely peeking through. “Isn’t it?” It really falls into Eddie’s favor that Steve was already against the wall, hand landing right next to his face. “Well, I gotta be honest, from the look on your face it almost looked like you wanted to join us.”

Oh god, is Steve hallucinating, or did Eddie just invite him to do the very thing he so desperately craved? “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Munson.”

Eddie rolls his eyes again, amused at the hesitance Steve displays. “I’m not. I’m inviting you to one.”

Steve’s breath hitches, Eddie affirming exactly what he was afraid of. “Think she’d be down for that?”

The genuine laughter that leaves Eddie’s lips is a bit startling, to say the least. “I can say, Steve, with 100% certainty, that she would be.”

“Well, shit, Eds.” Steve laughs, already hard from the mere thought of it. “Let’s go get our girl.”

-

A part of you starts to worry, tipsy as you stare into your drink while sitting next to who you thought was Steve’s date but is all over some football jock. Despite your date being Eddie, you were glad. Your jealousy can start simmering down. You catch Eddie’s jeans ripped at the knee, eyes raking up to his face, noting Steve trailing right behind him.

Eddie ignores your confused face, offering his hand for you to take. Yours lands in his, and it wraps around yours as he effortlessly tugs you up to him. “Come on, we’re going upstairs.” He waits for you to acknowledge Steve standing by you, eyebrow quirking up. “Oh, Steve’s joining us.”

You are not protesting. That's the last thing you'd be doing. If anything, it’s just sudden. All you can do is let out stuttered breaths, attempting to ask how, or why, before getting to the what.

Eddie pretends to falter, brow furrowing as he condescendingly tilts his head. “What, I thought this is what you wanted?”

Okay, how could he possibly know that? “Y-yes, yes, I do, but-but how--?”

“You should probably close your window next time you decide to order food and have a bit of fun, there, sweetheart.” Your eyes shoot open wide, immediately understanding why Eddie approached you when he did. Your window. He leans into Steve, laughter sitting under his voice. “Stevie, should’ve heard her, she was begging for us both, sweet thing had no idea I could hear.”

Steve’s mouth turns into a smirk, watching the many phases your sweet face goes through. “That true? You thinking of us both at the same time?”

By this point, your eyes haven’t even stopped switching between the two men as they leer over you. You wonder how many times this exact scenario has crossed your mind, giving you eyes as they proposition you to be the delicious middle of their sandwich. It’s everything you want, everything you crave.

Then why the fuck is it so damn terrifying?

“You got words, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, catching Steve’s eye, who has his hands on his hips, his eyes curtained by those glorious locks.

No words come to mind, except how fucking wet their gazes make you feel. You let your action speak for itself, turning on the spot to run up the stairs.

You’re halfway up when you hear the thumping of two sets of feet behind you vaguely over the loud music, giggles bubbling up your throat as you turn around the corner down the hall. Not panic, but pure excitement fills your chest as the sounds of footsteps invade the upstairs. A hand grabs yours, yanking you back to the door that Steve opens, his own room.

Sometimes it’s occupied by some random hook ups, he usually tries to lock it for a big party, but honestly if there were someone in his room, he would’ve kicked them out. He’s already hooked up in his mom and dad’s room, as barf inducing as it is, and he refuses to do so on this particular night.

Eddie is right behind you as you enter, hands already making their way under your shirt. He’s eager, his hand hooking under the hem and lifting it over your head and your arms. The cold air meets your skin, gifting it goosebumps. Your shirt hits the floor, you can hear it on Steve’s hardwood. The sound is minor in the grand scheme of things, currently focused on Steve’s lips on yours and Eddie’s hands making their way under the wire of your bra.

Steve’s hands grab at your shoulders, pulling you so you fall on top of him, Eddie giggling as he lands on the two of you. Eddie’s laughs weave with the kisses he scatters along your back, your neck, hands moving absentmindedly as he undoes the backing of your bra.

Under you, Steve’s hands delicately grab the straps of the bra and pull them off your arms. Your bra is flung across the room without a second thought, Steve palming your tits and playing with the nipples between his fingers, twisting and groping them as you mewl into his ear.

Eddie falls sideways onto the bed, the momentum knocking both you and Steve on your sides as well with him. You giggle, starting to grab at the edge of Steve’s shirt to lift over his head. Eddie flips your skirt up, his long fingers touching the fabric over your weeping pussy.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” Eddie mumbles, sneaking under the waistband of your panties, touching you softly and moving his finger up and down. “Pretty baby must be turned on, hmm?”

Steve bends down to mouth at your nipples, his silk tongue hot and magical, gently nipping with his teeth in a way that makes your blood sing.

The marvelous mixture of sensation has your head flung back on Eddie’s shoulder, writhing in their holds as they work together. One of Eddie’s fingers slips in, long and deep within you. A loud gasp fills the room as Eddie’s thumb rotates your clit slowly and watches you fall apart.

His finger hooks, working perfectly against your g-spot. “F-fuck!”

Steve licks up the mound of your breast, dirtily licking all the way to your neck, nibbling bruises across your neck. “Gonna cum so quickly, sweets?” Steve asks, teasing you.

“Feels-feels so good!” You whimper, starting to grind helplessly on Eddie’s finger.

Steve’s eyes switch over to Eddie’s, who is already watching him. He grins, eyes switching from the metal-head’s eyes to his lips before licking his own. Both men are pressed against you as they lean in, their lips connecting as you lay in a true sandwich. Wet sounds of their kisses are loud in the room, and from their body language it gets heated fast as Eddie moans behind you, his fingers not resting for a second.

They’re fast and relentless, a heat in your pussy too hot, too much as you’re pushed over the edge like being pushed over a cliff. It hits you hard as you restlessly wither in-between them. Steve’s mouth moves from Eddie’s straight to yours, muffling the moans that leave your mouth.

The loss is sudden as Eddie removes his fingers to pull your skirt down your ass. “You want me to tell Stevie what I heard, or you wanna tell him?”

Your lips freeze against Steve’s, eyes opening, gulping as you back away from him.

“Ooh, I wanna know, what’d you hear, Eds?” Steve asks, getting the hint when Eddie helps move you on to your back.

“Well, from what I could tell she was picturing us watching her play with herself, begging for us to touch her, begging for our cocks, begging to cum…”

Shit, he did hear everything.

“Shit, when was this, honey?”

You bite on your pointer finger nervously as Eddie tugs on your thighs, giggles spilling from your mouth. “Wednesday.”

Steve shakes his head, unbuttoning his jeans as he grins at you, Eddie settling himself between your legs. “Oh, you greedy girl.”

Eddie finishes pulling your skirt down your legs, tossing it over his shoulder as he asks, “Why?”

“Oh, she didn’t tell you?” Steve asks, cockily grinning at Eddie as he pulls down his boxers, his cock springing free. “Yeah, she took my cock in the back of Family Video that day, didn’t ya, darlin’?”

Eddie quirks his eyebrow, staring up at you from in-between your legs, grinning intensely. “Oh, you are greedy aren’t ya? Maybe such a greedy girl doesn’t get her wildest fantasies coming true, hmm?”

He’s bluffing, but in your post-orgasm haze you can’t tell at all, you're just desperate for them. You protest it loudly, humming several no’s in a row.

“I dunno, maybe you can watch for tonight and we’ll let you join in another time, hmm?” Eddie taunts you, grabbing Steve’s cock and stroking it, Steve’s moan from final, sweet, relief filling the room.

You’re protesting more, resting on your forearms as you’re hypnotized by the way Eddie’s eyes are locked onto Steve’s. Okay, watching them isn’t all that terrible, but you’re already naked.

Eddie leans in, eyes still trained on Steve as he wraps his mouth around the head of Steve’s cock. You’re hypnotized by it, their constant eye contact creating an energy that is palpable. Eddie’s head tilts back, his tongue that he likes to show off so much at school lingering on Steve’s mushroom tip, reveling in the pearl of precum.

He kisses it, twisting his head to you. “Enjoying the show, sweetheart?”

You nod, grinning manically. “Very much.”

“Maybe we can take pity on her, hey, Eds?” Steve asks, also looking at you.

“Yeah, she can watch another time.” Eddie mumbles, pulling away from Steve to lean in back between your legs. “For now, I need to bury my nose in this sweet little cunt.”

That’s the only warning you get before Eddie’s long tongue slides itself against your wet folds, a hot, wet stripe sending shivers up your spine. You can’t help the whine that leaves your throat, desperate and all too happy to accept it.

Steve saunters over to your mouth, stroking himself as he observes your face. “Think you can be a good girl and take this cock down your throat?” You nod, reaching for him pathetically. You guide his cock to your mouth, the large head pushing into your mouth. His length fills your mouth, pushing right to the back of your throat. “Oh, that’s a good girl.”

A hum leaves your mouth around him, somehow dividing your attention between Steve’s cock in your mouth and Eddie’s tongue on your pussy.

Speaking of Eddie, his tongue has been slowly working, barely putting an ounce of pressure, focused on gathering up any arousal you feed him. His fingers are harsh against your thighs, the friction nearly burning as he grips you tightly. “Fuck, you taste…” he pauses, gasping and greedy, “so sweet.”

Your mouth is busy, too busy to tell Eddie how much he just needs to touch you harder, already. Your hips do it for you, grinding up as a silent question. Simultaneously, your hands move to Steve’s base, playing with his balls. Your mouth makes a wet plop, suddenly in the mood to have them up against your face. Your greedy tongue pokes out to lick at the patched hair that covers them, gasping at the sweaty musk they radiate.

Steve buckles, swearing loudly as his hand lands roughly next to your face. “Oh, my gooood, baby.”

As a reaction, Eddie digs in further, his tongue pushing into you, deliciously long and vibrating into you as he hums. The stench of sweat and your dribble fills your nose, your face slobbered and wet. Eddie places his thumb on your clit, rubbing in small circles as the more you give him, the more he takes.

He knows the smell of pussy, and your smell has driven him completely insane, like a pheromone that overwhelms any logic he once held and replaces it with you.

You gasp, taking Steve’s cock back in your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat. Steve’s hand curls into your hair, his thumb swaying against your cheek. You can barely focus on it, the overstimulation making that oh-so-funny feeling take over once more, swelling in your stomach.

“You gonna cum again, honey?” Steve asks, his hips moving slowly, yet picking up at an unprecedented rate. You nod around him, his cock hitting and forming a beautiful swell in your cheek, moaning around him. “Gonna fill this pretty little mouth, then we’ll pay attention to Eds over there, hmm? Bet he needs some help, hmm?”

“Might cum from her taste alone, honestly,” Eddie mumbles, working his tongue even faster, even more.

That single sentence does it for you, mouth tightening around Steve as you spill onto Eddie’s tongue, legs tightening around his ears. Steve feels as you moan around him, every part of you tensing, your mouth specifically tightening and pulling sticky ropes that jump down your throat.

It becomes too much, overflowing your mouth and drooling down your chin. Eddie kisses your thigh, lapping up the arousal that spilled to your thighs. Steve pulls out, watching with hooded and hazy eyes as your mouth stays open, tongue poking out covered in him, smiling as when his eyes drift to your throat gulping as he flows down your throat.

“Did I hear you say it was my turn?” Eddie asks, head poking out from between your legs. “Does that mean I get to feel this tight little pussy wrapped around my cock?”

Steve chuckles, his hand still wrapped in your hair. “If I’ve already had a turn, guess it only seems fair.” His thumb swipes across your chin, gathering the excess cum that gathered.

Out of nowhere Eddie pounces, grabbing Steve’s wrist and lapping the sticky substance with his tongue, making a show of it. Well, Eddie is nothing if not a performer.

Steve seems to think his turn is over, turning to the mess of clothes on the floor. “Stevie,” you whine, sitting up. Your legs feel like jelly, grabbing at the shirt on Eddie right next to you. How is Eddie still fully dressed? “Do you have lube?”

“You don’t need lube, sweets, you're soaked.”

You giggle, shaking your head. “Not what I meant, Ed.” You look back to Steve. “Hey, stop getting dressed! You got lube, right?”

“Uh…yes.” Steve startles, hands on his hips with his hips, eyebrows furrowed.

How have they not picked up on it yet? “Seriously?” You ask, switching between their confused glances. “Remember how Eddie said you’d make every fantasy come true?” They nod, you move onto your knees, undoing Eddie’s belt, and button quickly. “Well, when I pictured this, I pictured every hole being filled.”

Usually, a sentence like this would make you shy, embarrassingly so. However, the collective stare the two men give you is mind numbingly arousing.

“Shit,” Eddie mutters, sharing a bewildered look with Steve. “Well, go get the damn lube, Steve!”

Steve chuckles, moseying to the bedside table and grabbing a small bottle.

Your hands, frozen on Eddie’s half undone jeans, finally start moving again, pulling down his jeans and underpants. His cock springs out, the head an angry red. You lean forward, extending your legs backward as you lean forward to accept Eddie in the back of your throat.

Steve comes from behind him, lifting the loose black shirt he wears over his head, sprinkling kisses along Eddie’s skin.

Eddie groans, lifting his head up. “Fuck, ok, get up, need to feel that pussy right now.”

You smirk, getting off Eddie with a pop, standing up on weak legs. Eddie pulls you right against him, wrapping your lips in a sweet kiss. His tongue wastes no time to reach out to touch yours, connecting wonderfully. Eddie turns the two of you around, kicking off his jeans and stumbling over them. He falls backward onto the bed, you falling onto him and giggling like a madman.

A hand wraps around your cheeks, squishing them comically and pulling your face upward. “Kiss me, honey.”

You grin, locking lips with Steve as your body hitches up toward him. A pair of hands plant you back down, bare pussy connecting with Eddie’s gorgeous cock. The sensation makes you whine, thighs tensing around Eddies. Your hips grind helplessly, hoping it pushes him in. “Patience, sweets.”

You whine impatiently, petulantly groaning against Steve’s lips. You part from him, staring down at Eddie. “Stop teasing me, and—” your sentence cuts short, Eddie grinning in satisfaction as he shuts you up. A hushed swear leaves your throat, elongated and stuttered on the sh in shit.

Your impatience is the size of a teaspoon, hips rutting down to take more of him quicker, even though he’s at a size where you know you should take your time. “Take your time,” Eddie tuts, wrapping his hand in your hair.

“I can’t.” You whine, trying to pull him in more.

Impossibly, you manage to take in Eddie’s full length faster than you know you should. It’s still not fast enough.

A second pair of hands land on your ass, grabbing at the apples of your cheeks with harsh nails digging into the soft skin. Eddie’s hands are on your hips, fingertips under the edge of Steve’s. A cold, thick liquid lands where it needs to, a finger pushes it in, a mighty pressure added to the mix.

You whine, bucking into them and grinding on Eddie’s cock simultaneously. A mix of sounds ring out, Eddie moaning, Steve chuckling, you breathlessly gasping. “Fuck.”

Steve adds another finger, twisting and playing, watching how both your holes spasm together, how Eddie’s cock starts to move for you when your hips are jerking too much to really do anything.

Eddie gasps into your ear, groaning and border-line whimpering. “F-fuck, feel this tight fucking pussy…Jesus, Harrington, you planned on keeping this to yourself?”

Steve doesn’t answer right away, inserting a third finger and grinning at your high-pitched reaction. “With how good it feels, can you fucking blame me?”

“How many times you pictured fucking me, sweets? Good as you thought it’d be?” Eddie asks, voice guttural.

“S-s-s-so much better,” you stutter, whining in the crook of his neck.

Over your shoulder, Steve winks at Eddie, and it gives Eddie the warning to pause his movements to allow Steve to enter. The pressure of the head against the hole is so good. “Fuck,” you whimper, gasping desperately.

If there’s anything you’re willing to admit, it’s that you never knew you could feel this good, this full, it’s a shame it took this long, really. The stupid part is, Steve isn’t even halfway in. Your jaw drops, hands tensing and curling and toes twitching, so many little muscles moving instantaneously.

“You okay, sweets?” Eddie asks, whispering sweetly as your gasping grows in both depth and volume. You frantically nod, the sweat fierce and intense.

“More.” You beg, the only word that can possibly make sense to you.

However small, however faint, Steve heard the plea and pushed in more. Your jaw drops, leaning onto Eddie’s bare chest with your elbows and staring at Eddie’s darkened, brown eyes. He’s pretty, too pretty.

You adjust, and yeah, lube definitely needs to be used in this bullshit, it makes it feel so much better. “More,” you whimper, twisting your body to look back at Steve to see his reaction as he pushes in one last time.

The awkward twist of the body is worth it to see how his jaw drops and eyes close, followed by his head falling back in bliss. “Fuck, both your tight little holes are so good, honey.”

“What a good girl you are, love, god you take cock so well,” Eddie compliments you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

Steve’s strong hand sways across your ass, caressing it fiercely. “Like she was made to, isn’t it,” he adds, hunching over your build to kiss the bare skin.

Your toes are curled, your whole-body tense, eyes closed as you lie in the sandwich that contains the three of you. Good. God, it’s good. The goodness that it is starts to trail down your cheeks, trailing off your chin. “Good,” you whimper, trying to look at both of them at once. “G-good. Move. Move,” you act restlessly, hands moving without a destination in mind, hips bucking anxiously with no such success.

They work in tandem, their hips synchronously moving together, both rolling their hips perfectly. Steve twists his arm around your torso, extending as he wraps his hand around your neck, fingers beautifully spread, choking the little air you have out of your lungs. Eddie stares up at your face in awe, holding your hips fiercely while his hips buck up.

Steve’s hand awkwardly spiders up your jaw, letting go of your neck to hook a thumb in your mouth and rest his fingers on your chin.

As a reflex, you start to suck on it. “What a pretty slut we have, hey, Stevie?” Eddie asks, admiring your pretty mouth wrapped around Steve’s thumb.

“Thirsting over her little holes being filled, taking it so well, fucking right, she is.” Steve agrees. He yanks his thumb out, using the same hand to lightly slap your ass.

You moan, loud and stuttered, and guttural at the sting of pain that just adds more to the pleasure. “Fuck!” Steve chuckles doing it again, harsher this time.

Eddie’s arms wrap around you, pulling your tits against his chest. He pulls you in for a kiss, dirty, and filled with spit. Steve slaps another time, harder than the others, you yell into Eddie’s mouth as a direct response. Your lips stutter off Eddie, whining desperately at the marvel.

“Whore.” You whine out, desperate.

“Oh, she wants to be called a whore, does she? Well she certainly earned it, didn’t she?” Eddie mocks, voice only a little bit strained. Eddie surges forward, slapping your ass harshly, igniting a yelp from you from the unexpected sting. “Sorry, Stevie, I wanted in on the fun.”

Steve grunts out a moan, “Of course, after all, our whore loves it, doesn’t she?”

They start to move faster, Eddie’s hips more jagged, Steve’s hips in a rolling pattern, both cocks fucking you in a way that is simply too good to be true.

That seemed to be the common theme for the night, good. While fantastic, amazing, wonderful, beautiful, are much better synonyms, good is the only word simple enough to reach your brain. Maybe the stream of tears trailing down your face are stealing the strong words from your vocabulary, maybe it’s the cocky look that sits on both their faces. Maybe it’s the wandering hands.

“Gonna cum.”

“Oh, make a mess for us, sweetheart.” Eddie commands, planting wet lips all along your jaw, neck, shoulder, anywhere he can reach.

Steve slips his hand around your thigh, placing two fingers on your clit. “Wanna feel this tight little hole as you cum, yeah? Gonna see our baby make another fucking mess.”

The pleasure is overwhelming, consuming every nerve you have. Gasps leave your throat, high pitched and too much. “Cum all over me, baby.”

A feeling you’ve never had, a high you’ve never reached, comes into play, forcing you to push something you didn’t know you could. “Oh, I’m gonna—”

A gush overwhelms the heavy breaths that are coming from both Eddie and Steve. Your vision is flooded with stars, writhing in their collective hold.

It takes you a minute to recover from it, both men’s hips slowly bucking in, slowly hips rolling and swaying. You still look like you need time when you choke out, “Fuck me! Fill me up, please, please, please?”

“Of course, whatever the pretty girl wants.” Steve mutters, hands gripping onto your hips as he fucks into you, matching the relentless pace Eddie was already at.

“Jus’ like that, jus’ like that~”

“Oh fuck, keep begging like that, honey.” Steve encourages you, grabbing harshly against your scalp.

“You better be as close as I am, Harrington, or this will be embarrassing.” Eddie warns, only half joking with how desperate his moans sounded.

“Fill her up with me?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Eddie answers, grinning manically. “J-j-jesus christ!”

The symphony of moans as they fill you up in both holes is music to your ears, something you never thought you’d hear. You do your best to memorize every note, every consonant, every vowel, to commit it to memory.

The world freezes as three sets of lungs attempt to catch their breath. Hands gracing over any skin they can touch for a gentle caress. Caresses lead into kisses on skin, wet and comforting in the best way.

You can’t tell how much time passes as the three of you fall over into a three way spoon, cocks still keeping you good and full.

“Did so good, honey.” Steve praises, petting your hair and skin.

“Good girl, such a good girl for us.” Eddie adds, unable to help his hand fluttering over to Steve’s hair, as well.

Your gasps turn from whimpers to hums, accepting every whisper of appraisal with an overly satisfied grin sitting on your face. They pull themselves out eventually, you moan at the loss as your spaghetti limbs sprawl on the bed. “Gonna grab you some water, honey,” Steve whispers, planting a kiss in your hair.

“You need a bath, sweetheart? I know for a fact it fits the three of us down the hall.” Eddie asks right after him, yanking a pair of his jeans on.

You nod, head feeling heavy on your neck.

Eddie scoops you up in his arms, carrying you down the hall. As the tub fills with hot, soapy water, Steve comes back up the steps with a cold glass of water to the bathroom. “Drink up.”

In Steve’s corner tub, you sit on Eddie’s lap, arms wrapped around him absentmindedly as Steve climbs in across the two of you. They spend their time washing your body, the hot water, and bubbles soothing and gentle as ever. It feels so good, so nice, it hurts to think it will end soon.

Your hormones must’ve been wild, because the tears fall down your face as you start to think about how badly you don’t want this to end. They’re worried, asking what’s wrong as they worriedly reach one another’s eyes. “’M selfish.”

“Why you selfish, sweets?” Eddie asks, tilting your chin up to him.

“Cause…cause I don’t want this to end…having both of you...it’s too good.”

Eddie and Steve share a glance, the both of them knew from the start it wasn’t just a one-time thing. “Who said this was going to end?” Attempting to reach your eyes with his.

“What?” You ask, a beautiful flicker of hope in you.

Eddie’s arms tighten around you, hand reaching in to kiss your cheek. “It’s nowhere near over, baby.”

“You’re too good for us to let you go, honey.”

“Really?” You ask, now a tad skeptical. “You’re going to let me be selfish enough to have both of you?”

“Please.” Steve chuckles, eyebrow furrowing at the crash down the stairs. “If anything, we’re the selfish ones, honey.”

Selfish.

On a regular day, it’s hard not to feel completely selfish. But when there’s two enticing and captivating voices telling you that’s not possible, you forget the word even exists.

-

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read comments and replies and tags and as always reblogging is the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

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[ahsoka-in-a-hood]

I realize disney's been tending to stick with the jedi exclusively adopting children with parental permission, if parents are alive, and I appreciate that aspect, but I have thought about the concept (which I am told crops up in legends) of them having some sort of legal right to force sensitive children in the republic, just because it is interesting- especially thinking about cases of child abuse.

Something that disney, legends, and fanon, all generally agree on is the idea that force sensitive children are often in danger because of their force sensitivity. Some take it further with an analogy for neurodivergent kids, since them being weird kids is a recurring theme.

And well. Realistically, over the course of about a thousand years there must have been a few jedi who found a force sensitive child who was in a deeply unsafe situation but their family or guardians had no intention of giving them up for whatever reason. How firm is the parental permission rule in that situation? What if that child is gonna die there?

Laws and systems and rights are finicky things, with often odd histories. I guess, out of all the options available, I can imagine that there was legal framework giving jedi a kind of social service role for force sensitive children and only force sensitive children*, the probably mediocre result of some bit of regulatory legislation that happened at some point, ostensibly there to protect these vulnerable children, that makes it so that technically, if a child passes this standardized test, the jedi can take them away, and that's written in republic law somewhere. Does that law also specify the jedi have to prove unfitness of the guardian? Maybe, maybe not (the republic doesn't seem to have a lot of attention to detail). Does that mean it's actually jedi custom to just go ahead and forcibly take children as a normal thing? Every line of canon dialogue says no. It could be a legal right they have but aren't 100% comfortable with, and are aware it would be unwise to abuse.

.*this is where I plug my headcanon that the blood test is bureaucratic box ticking first and foremost. it's not that i hate midicholorians, but it's a well established thing that jedi can sense force sensitive children absolutely fine without doing a blood test. For their own internal purposes, it's maybe a scientific curiosity to get a count. but for the paperwork? That is a piece of paper that officially categorizes a child as force sensitive in a way that regular people can quantify. so there.

[kurogane2512]

this is a weird request but how would you favourite characters in any game(S) react to your death ? Just genuinely curious LOL

Ooh very interesting. I know some will react more intensely than others, while some would have that "silent but internally dying" reaction. I also believe the reactions would differ depending on the method of death. Here's what I could categorize~

HEAVY ANGST AHEAD WITH TW THEMES

Ok so I think it's obvious that Signora would have the most devastating reaction and I hate to imagine that oh god 😭😭 To have this happen a second time would surely destroy her, even worse if it's similar to the previous experience where she was too late to save her love. I think.... I think she will not want to live anymore and would kill herself 😭 Nothing matters now, there's nothing that can give her hope anymore, be it Tsaritsa or whatever she doesn't care anymore....

Another one to have a devastating reaction would be Chameleon I feel. It's the pattern of already having lost closed loved ones before, I know these people would breakdown. We already know how far Chameleon went to seek revenge for her parents' death, if you are killed by someone else then she will not hold back at all... If it's more on the line of natural causes then she'd pretend to be fine but she's clearly out of it for a long time...

Ningguang's reaction would be similar to when the Jade Chamber was destroyed. She has a position and status to maintain so she'd do her utmost to appear fine on the outside, she'd process the death so much and try to console herself until she reaches her breaking point and loudly cries in her room. She'd look over all the gifts she ever bought for you and would hold them close to her heart and cry out more, but in the end she knows she has to bounce back soon...

Lisa would be angry, surprisingly. She's another one to hide her true emotions at first, others like Jean and Kaeya may try to comfort her and she always acts her usual flirty self. I imagine when she first got the news of your death, she was so angry and hurt that purple sparks fly around her as she'd look down and hide her face with her hat. She curses herself for not being there to save you, all this knowledge and power she has becomes useless if she couldn't even save you...

Cabernet would have a very.... twisted reaction, to say the least. I know she would be sad, but for a different reason. It's the fact that she can't have your soul anymore. If she finds you in a dying state then she'd definitely take your soul and preserve it for as long as she wants, it's the biggest temptation she'd hold back. She'll only eat your preserved soul as her last meal, to have you as the last taste on her tongue and both of you die together. If she's unable to preserve your soul then she might even try to get into some resurrection stuff just to extract your soul at least....

Cocolia would have 2 different reactions. If she's affected by the Stellaron then she'd honor your sacrifice and try to achieve her goal even more, using your death as a motivator. If it's normal Supreme Guardian Cocolia then she'd be similar to Ningguang, appearing strong and balanced on the outside but breaking down in private. She'd look over your memories together and promise to fulfill all that you wanted for Belobog....

Himeko would become reserved and detached for a while. She'd continue doing her duties like normal, but it's easy to tell her mind is diverted and there's nothing much that can be done. She'd feel very lonely once again, she'd look over the stars and think of you all the time. She may lose interest in her hobbies since she got so used to doing them with you, she'd silently cry in private a lot...

Eirene would be pretty indifferent. Yes, she did love you a lot that was never a lie. But she has bigger goals, she had hoped to accomplish them with you but she will now continue on her own. She will do it for you too, she won't cry but she will promise to do everything you wanted. If you were killed by a rival of hers then she'll be merciless, she will have revenge and destroy them for sure. She will never let your death become her weakness.