#boy in a box

[oriixxc]

my first mystery box commission

[prettyboyprettyeyes]

✨soft asks✨

What song makes you feel better?

What is your go to comfort show?

Reading or writing? Why?

Whats your favorite feeling?

How do you like to take care of yourself?

What’s your favorite candle scent?

Who do you feel most like yourself around?

Whats a fabric/texture that’s nostalgic for you?

Best childhood moment?

When was the last time you laughed so hard you cried? (or just felt really good afterwards)

Do you have a comfort item? Tell us about it!

What calms you down?

Bath or shower to relax?

Whats something upcoming that you’re excited for?

Comfort food?

What’s something you want to create soon?

How do you feel best loved?

What age in life do you think you’ll feel most yourself at?

Have you ever written or received a love letter?

Tell us about a memory you hold close to your heart.

Tea, Coffee, or hot cocoa?

Name of your favorite playlist?

Have you ever received flowers?

Who is your bestfriend?

If your soul was a color, what would it be?

If you could live anywhere with anyone you want, where would it be and who would you bring?

Do you like to garden? Have you ever grown something?

What are you proudest of?

Are you a kind person?

What do your hobbies look like?

[sugxto]

power play - eddie/volt/reader

⋆syn: Eddie only has one rule: no fucking in the bar. And of course, he finds you and Volt breaking it. He can't have that.

⋆wc: 3.3k

⋆cw: m/m/afab threesome, light dom/sub undertones, erotic electrostimulation, mentions of alcohol consumption, blowjobs, finger fucking.

⋆notes: reader insert uses g/n pronouns and is not described with feminine attributes. AFAB genitalia, mention of breasts, terms used include hole, entrance, cunt and clit. no spoilers for any of the routes, I suppose, but it is a more established relationship. the first 65% of this is volt/reader, with eddie/volt/reader in the later half. e/v masterlist.

⋆snippet:

“What. The fuck. Are you doing?” Eddie’s voice is harsh, methodical, but level. He usually only sounds like this when he’s kicking out Kristof for starting a fight, or when he notices you doing something even mildly off-kilter when fixing up the club. It’s a dangerous tone.

Neither of you speak immediately. You can't even bring yourself to meet Volt’s eyes; you’re focused solely on Eddie, and how still, how charged he is.

“Are either of you going to fucking say anything?” His grip tightens on Volt’s hair, and Volt nearly stumbles back.

power play

“Does he have to perform every night, though?”

You’re wiping down the bar, Volt expertly throwing a shaker around before grabbing two glasses for the concoction he’s crafting. The liquid fills the tumblers, and he starts to pluck out some cherries from a bowl.

“We have an open-mic policy, darling,” Volt says as he pushes a glass in your direction. Nevermind that it pulls a few drops of spilled whiskey over where you’d just run your rag over.

You sigh, eyeing Volt with annoyance, but he ignores you in favor of having a long sip from his glass. “But it’s almost like you need a sign for him,” you say as you round the bar to sit. You punctuate your words with a wave of the hand, like you’re envisioning a marquee. “Johnny Splash: The Breaker Box Residency.”

Volt downs the whiskey sour, and you can’t help but catch a glance at how his adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. “After that disaster of his American Maestro audition,” he says, popping another cherry in his mouth, “I think he ought to still have somewhere he can feel comfortable performing, don’t you think?”

You nod, stealing a taste of your drink. “I just hope he’s not taking space from anyone else wanting to perform, is all.”

“Aww, spark,” Volt hums, shrugging off his overcoat and pushing his sleeves up like Eddie does for work. “What a darling thing you are.” He props his arms up against the bar, leaning towards you, mischief crackling in his white eyes.

You shrug as you swallow the cherry from your drink. “Don’t worry, I’m not going soft on you two.”

“I perish the thought.” He grins like a cat who’s finally cornered the canary. “I adore when you crackle around the edges like we do.”

You bite back a grin, and reach out to the bowl of cherries for another, when your hand is smacked away.

“Hey! I was -”

“I know, darling,” he breathes, impatience on his lips. You watch his long, silver fingers procure a cherry, and red juice drips down his thumb. “Allow me.”

His lightning brows quirk expectantly, and you fight back an eye roll as you open your mouth, protrude your tongue only a hint. When he places the cherry on your tongue, your lips wrap around his fingers, tingling your mouth. Daring a glance at his eyes, you run the tip of your tongue over his thumb, ensuring no juice is wasted, before pulling away with a lick of your lips.

The ends of Volt’s hair buzz and spark, and his eyes glisten.

(You’ve noticed, between your partners, their similarities and differences - where Eddie’s steel eyes will darken with want, Volt’s dial up their shine, like a lamp when you remove its shade. It’s noticeable enough even to an untrained, unknowing eye.)

“Enjoy that, live wire?” He rubs the pads of his thumb and finger together, making the smallest of sparks.

You say nothing, just take another sip without breaking his gaze.

“Hm,” he muses, standing upright again. “Shall I make you another cocktail?”

You blink in confusion, glancing down at the half-finished tumbler. “I haven’t finished yet.”

“No matter.”

His voice tells it is most certainly some sort of matter. “Volt -”

He turns, rummaging at a few bottles before deciding on a few, putting them to the side. When you finally catch a glimpse of his profile behind his shock of hair, his smile is saccharine.

“Yes, here we go,” he mutters to himself as bottles of simple syrup, bourbon, and lemon juice appear in front of you. No shakers, no strainers, just a grin that sends a shiver down your spine.

You gulp. You know that grin. You say again, a little harsher, “Volt -”

“Now now, live wire, no need for that. I’m just going to make you a cocktail, hm?” Volt cocks his head like he’s explaining a trick to a dog, trying as he might to play innocent.

“Yes but what do -”

Your voice stops with a gasp as, quick as lightning, Volt’s fingers find your jaw and press down on your cheeks to force your mouth open. The pressure is harsh, almost bordering on painful, and Volt’s palm rests fittingly under your chin. You find, almost instantly, your breath comes easier through your nose, and it’s unsteady when it comes out.

His hair is alive, bursts of light sparking close to your skin, and his eyes are wild. “Fear not, spark.” You see him reach for a bottle, his eyes not leaving your face. “I’m just making a cocktail.”

The tip of a bottle is cool on your lips, and sweetness flows into your mouth - but not too much, no no, just enough to cover your tongue.

“Very good, darling.” Volt coos, placing the bottle back on the bar and deftly grabbing the next. This one’s bourbon, you think, and the unmistakable scent wafts to your nostrils. It mixes with the syrup on your tongue, and this time, a few drops escape from the corners of your lips. You feel them, slowly, casually, journey down your chin, your neck, down the center of your chest and between your breasts, leaving a cool streak in their wake.

Volt chuckles approvingly as he allows a few drops of lemon juice to enter your mouth, resulting in even more spillover, and you moan, pleadingly, as your jaw starts to ache.

“Impatient, are we?” He licks his lips, leans forward across the bar so there’s only a hair of space between your lips and his. “You, live wire, look delectable.”

He cuts off your moan with his tongue, intruding on your rigidly held mouth, swiping long, hungry licks over the roof of your mouth, your tongue, lapping at the mixture of liquids he poured like a man parched. You whine, you moan, you plead with the only small sounds you can make. The taste is overwhelming, the liquid dribbles out of you rapidly now, and the combination of the droplets’ wet streaks and nearby electricity elicit goosebumps along your skin.

Volt’s fingers relax as he pulls away, releasing your jaw from his grip but keeping his hand on you (always on you). He sucks at your bottom lip, and you finally have enough control to swallow the remnants of the drink Volt missed. You whine again, still physically prevented from forming words.

He stops, and you swear you can hear the buzz of his charged eyes when they meet yours, white hot with lust. His thumb pets your chin, the tips of your noses kissing. “Did you want something, darling?”

Fuck this man.

Fuck this man.

Hm. That sounds like a good idea, actually.

You lunge forward, your whiskey-laced lips starving for Volt’s, and you grab at his vest with white-knuckled fists. He lets out a growl, a sound of pure want, and you feel his arms snake around you, encircle your waist, and you’re being hoisted forwards across the bar. The stool you sat in clatters to the ground, and you allow Volt to settle your ass on the bar, you lips never separating more than a breath.

Volt’s large hands singe at your waist, a delicious burn as he grips you tightly. You loosen your grip on his vest and wrap your arms around his neck at the same moment your legs lock around his hips, pressing his warm body to you. He rocks his hips between your thighs, and you gasp at how hard he already is, straining against his slacks.

“Fuck, Volt,” you sigh when his tongue journeys down your chin, your neck, licking up the trail of his “cocktail.” Your nails claw at the back of his neck, needing purchase wherever possible. He sucks at a spot at the base of your neck, and a shock surges from your spine straight to your clit. “Oh, oh, fuck…”

His voice reverberates in your neck when he hums in satisfaction. “Live wire,” he says, strained with lust, “I have to have you. Now.” As he says it, his hands deftly find the button of your pants and tug, and they’re gone in a lightning flash, your bare skin hitting the cold wood.

Yes, yes of course, who were you to say no to such need? You need him, needed this, right now, right here on the -

Bar.

Oh no.

You two were breaking Eddie’s one rule.

Your eyes fly open, and you try, feebly, to push Volt away. “Volt. Volt, the bar, Eddie -”

“Fuck Eddie.”

You groan, and you both love and hate that his voice makes you wetter. “He says no sex at the bar -”

“Last time I checked,” Volt’s hands palm the flesh of your thighs around his waist, sparks igniting at every inch they move, “this is our bar. And you, little spark, are ours as well. So, why shouldn’t I enjoy my share, hm?”

You weren’t going to win, you knew that, you rarely ever did with Volt, and the rational part of your brain had clocked out when you locked up after Johnny left. Because yeah, the boys were yours, and they always said the bar was just as much yours now too, so…

You’d just have to be extra attentive when you cleaned up, was all.

You swallow, trying to find whatever liquid courage might remain in your mouth, and start to grab at Volt’s belt. “Fuck it.”

Volt’s grin is tiger-like as he helps you free himself, and you unconsciously lick your lips at the sight of his cock, long and curved with the faintest tinge of blue. Amps sake, how lucky were you that both of your boyfriends had such pretty, pretty cocks?

You trail your fingers along his length, watching as a droplet of pre forms at the tip. Volt hisses, and he grabs your wrist suddenly, and you look up at his white eyes, scared you’ve done something wrong.

But no anger or hurt is evident on his face, just that familiar mischief. He pulls your wrist and hand close to your face, and looks expectantly at your open palm. “Spit.”

Your hole clenches at the word, and you fight back a whimper. You gather the spit in your mouth, letting the glob drop onto your hand.

“Again.”

You don’t think twice.

Satisfied, Volt leads your hand back to his cock, and you wrap your grip around him, glazing your spit over the hot skin, coating him as best you’re able as he maneuvers your wrist. He makes a hum of content after a moment, and you rest your hand on your waist when he releases you.

There’s hardly anymore preamble before the head of his cock is pressing at your entrance, but you know Volt, and you know -

Your jaw falls open in a silent cry as Volt enters you, white hot and slick and everything you need. He gives you a moment, just a moment, to relax into the fullness, before his hips snap, and he thrusts.

So. Fucking. Lucky.

Strings of moans, strings of “yes, yes, yes, fuck yes” fall from your lips each time Volt bottoms out, and you bury your face into his shoulder, the burning heat of his skin and the cool wood a beautiful contrast.

You can hear the sparks of Volt’s hair, feel the puffs of his breath, and you hang on to every curse, every “my spark, fuck, good little spark,” that he groans.

It’s maddening, almost, just how good he makes you feel, how they make you feel. You moan something incomprehensible when he bites your neck and lick the marks. “Volt, volt, yes -“

There’s a surge, a flicker, and you’re empty, and Volt’s weight is missing.

You open your eyes, suddenly terrified from the loss, and you think to scream -

But the sight that greets you isn’t one that’s… entirely unwelcome.

Eddie’s hand has a death grip on the currents of Volt’s hair, tugging hard enough to keep Volt’s chin tilted back, unmoving.

(You think, in the recesses of your fucked our mind, that you wish you could do that, but it seemed to be a skill reserved for literal electrical conduits personified.)

You blink, aligning yourself to this new situation, to this unexpected twist, because when did Eddie -

Eddie.

Eddie.

Uh oh.

“What. The fuck. Are you doing?” Eddie’s voice is harsh, methodical, but level. He usually only sounds like this when he’s kicking out Kristof for starting a fight, or when he notices you doing something even mildly off-kilter when fixing up the club. It’s a dangerous tone.

Neither of you speak immediately. You can't even bring yourself to meet Volt’s eyes; you’re focused solely on Eddie, and how still, how charged he is.

“Are either of you going to fucking say anything?” His grip tightens on Volt’s hair, and Volt nearly stumbles back.

“Eddie, my darling,” Volt finally offers, trying the voice he uses to introduce the next act. The listen-to-what-I’m-about-to-say voice. “My, did we miss you -”

“Volt,” his voice is clipped, and Volt doesn’t try again. “I have one fucking rule. And you know that.”

You haven’t seen the ice that’s in Eddie’s eyes in weeks, and now it’s your turn to try. “Eddie, it was my -”

“Absolutely not.” Titanium eyes stop your words in your throat, and Eddie points a finger at you. “You are not in a position where you wanna lie to me.”

He’s right, and you know it, and you close your legs in an effort to take up less space on the bar.

Eddie turns his attention back to Volt, flexing his grip and pulling his partner’s head closer to him, turning him so their eyes meet. You feel the hum, the charge in the air that flows between them. “No. Sex. In the bar, Volt.” Eddie cocks his head, studying Volt’s strained white gaze. “Or did you not learn the last time when I caught you with Amir?”

Volt’s laugh is shakey, raising his hands in surrender. “It was only a broken mirror, Eddie, and look at me now! We’re being very careful to -”

Eddie cuts him off with a kiss you can only describe as forceful, teeth tugging at Volt’s lips, and keeping him in place as he twists his hand in Volt’s hair. You swear you hear a growl from Eddie’s throat when he harshly tugs Volt away again, and there’s a flash of something in his steely gaze as you watch his free hand start to fumble with his pants zipper.

Sometimes, you’re almost certain there are times that Volt and Eddie don’t communicate with words, that there’s something deeper between them that lets them move in a singular, tandem pace, synchronized. As Eddie unzips, and Volt placidly drops to his knees before him, you think this is one of those times.

“You,” Eddie groans, when Volt, unprompted, places a chaste, quick kiss to Eddie’s thick, angry cock, “need to shut. up.”

He says nothing more, but on instinct, Volt’s jaw goes slack, and nearly his entire cock slips into Volt’s mouth with practiced ease.

Your body tremors as you watch them, notice with interest how a small fuck falls from Eddie’s lip, and he throws his head back, steeling his jaw with bared teeth. He’s so still, letting Volt do the work on his cock, and - and you can’t help it, your thighs press together, and your nails scrap along the wood as your hands turn to firsts.

Eddie notices.

Eddie always notices.

Eddie’s eyes are nearly black with lust, hunger, and barely controlled rage. “You,” he says, voice rough in his throat. “Open your legs.”

You do, and the air is cold where your slick hasn’t dried.

Eddie reaches out his hand, extends his ring and middle finger, and lays them at the very edge of the bar. Still. Waiting.

You blink, unsure, but you’re not sure if you’re allowed to speak.

“Fuck yourself or don’t, live wire, I don’t care,” he says. “He’s - fuck - in more trouble than you. He’s not getting off tonight.”

Lucky, lucky, lucky, your mind chants, and your heart might just explode from electrocution if you’re not careful.

You scoot yourself to the edge of the bar, position your legs under you, line your entrance over where his fingers are raised and waiting. You grip the curve of the wood to steady yourself, and lower yourself down onto Eddie’s fingers, as far as you can, and your mouth falls open in a curse at the feeling of fullness finally returned to you.

Eddie only watches, his fingers knotting in Volt’s hair, trying with his entire willpower not to fuck all his fingers into your cunt. You feel so hot, so slick, and the currents racing through his cock are already dangerously close to shorting if Volt keeps his pace. He knows if he so much as catches a glimpse of those white eyes that he’ll blow like a fuse. So, he watches you, bouncing up and down as best you can, trying to grind your clit on his thumb. Angry as he is at catching you two in the one place you shouldn’t be, he has to admit, he thrives off the power you and Volt are feeding him.

You’re close, so close, and you moan Eddie’s name in want and frustration. He makes no sound, but Volt hums around Eddie’s cock, and you can’t tell whose slick, depraved sounds are whose.

Volt moans again, his grip tighter on Eddie’s hips, and you somehow know he’s warning you that Eddie won’t last long. You quicken your place, angling to find how Eddie’s thumb hits your clit. It’s just right, and you close your eyes, white bolts of lightning behind your eyelids as you climb, higher, higher -

“Yes, yes, Eddie Eddie, fuck, Eddie!” You cry as your orgasm hits like a surge, tingling and coursing through all your limbs, and your legs quiver as you force yourself to slow.

Eddie hisses through his teeth, knowing he has only seconds, and Volt only speeds up. “Fuck,” he grunts, and finally flicks his eyes down to watch Volt work, if only for a moment, but the second those knowing, loving, burning eyes meet his -

He short circuits.

Volt sucks him dry as Eddie groans, curses through his climax, even swallows him down with his nose pressed to the coils above Eddie’s shaft. Doesn’t let a single drop spill, Volt, and Eddie loves him for it.

You all are finally, somehow, able to relax, as you extricate yourselves from your slightly incoherent, slightly precarious positions. Volt, back on his feet, pulls you into his arms, hoists you up as you wrap you legs around them - none of you trust them to hold you up.

Eddie rubs his hand over your back, presses adoring kisses to your shoulder. “You alright, little wire?” He asks, in the softest voice you’ve heard him use all night.

You nod, turning your head to find his face. “Of course, Eddie. Always.”

A corner of his lip tugs up into a smile. “Good.” He plants a warm kiss on your cheek and tucks a hair behind your ear. “Like I said, you’re not in trouble. I know how dangerous Volt’s tongue can be.”

“Hey,” Volt quips, his fingers pressing into your thighs. “A moment ago you liked my dangerous tongue.”

Eddie pays the jest no mind, but still looks up at him. “You’re on close for a week. Alone. And - nope - don’t you ‘Eddie’ me. Alone. One week.”

Volt groans, and you don’t have to see his face to know he rolled his eyes too. “You already didn't let me cum, so I get the message." He, too, presses a small kiss to the top of your head. "But who’s going to keep our spark busy then, hm?”

Eddie smiles, seeing the mischievous glint that just appeared in your gaze. “Well, luckily, they have more than one option, don’t they?”

Lucky, lucky, lucky.

[tipsywench]

This wonderful fan account on instagram Imane_Khalif_10 has been translating interviews and this is the funniest one so far (edit: apparently she's deleted her account or switched to a different name)

Imane Khelif, patron goddess of punching the shit out of bullies

[0owitheredquinceyo0]

HES SO FUCKING.. CLANK CLANK CLANK CLANK.

Sorry aNYWAYYY..

[officialspec]

so we just moved, and the house we moved into has been abandoned for a few years so weve discovered some fun little secrets scattered around as we explored. for example, theres a little room downstairs with graffiti on the door dubbing it 'the dog box'

of course we were intrigued. aside from some storage and a place to put a washing machine, the dog box seems to exclusively contain this old ass piano, with a little window to see into it from outside

also pictured sitting on the piano is a little novelty dagger we found in the grass outside. its all very funny and novel, right? we thought so

that was when we found The Stain

of course, we immediately jumped to some conclusions. the knife outside, the abandoned house, 'do not enter' written on the door. whatever it was, it had dripped through the floorboards from upstairs, from approximately just outside the bathroom. we decided to wait until we finished moving and then grab some peroxide to test it just in case

still, the dog box bloodstain remained a hot topic, and the curiosity was killing me. after figuring out where upstairs the stain wouldve dripped down from, we noticed it had also seeped up through the newly installed flooring, and i decided i couldnt wait to investigate

looking around the dog box, i noticed that there was a section of the ceiling/underfloor that was noticeably newer than the rest of it, meaning the place the stain had leaked through had been pulled out and replaced just before we moved in. suspicious

im using my phone torch to look around in the dark, and when i shine it on the bloodstain it lights up in a distinctly.... glossy way. when i get closer i can see its not matte, but sticky. so i decide to touch it, and immediately im hit with a STRONG smell of something deeply familiar. all the pieces fall together at once, and using my superior investigative prowess i have deduced the culprit

it was bees. there was a fuckoff massive beehive in the floor that got taken out before we moved in and it leaked honey up through the floorboards and onto the floor of the dog box and the landlord didnt feel like cleaning it up. mystery solved

[applestruda]

maybe a little bit of rendog for the soul? i adore the way you draw him, he needs some more love!!

some soulmates

[leminaus]

red and vee :)

[slightlyplant]

i love how much harry loves contact mike

[magicicephoenix]

soo... how does moon feel about never being able to physically be with sun? just curious <3

not very good.

[ozuzo]

Has anyone in Homestuck ever heard about the concept of tidying up your room?

[yet-another-heathen]

On conditioned whumpees...

Y'know, I think one of the things that people get wrong with conditioned whumpees is their rules. Specifically, when a whumpee was in long term captivity/training and they later get released or escape.

Most people write them as latching onto a caretaker or new whumper, and begging for new rules so they know they're doing something right. A new set of laws to live by, a new framework to behave to.

And that's... not really how conditioning works.

Conditioning means automatic reactions. Your body doing something that was trained into you without consulting your brain first.

There is no decision making. There is no choice. The trigger hits, and you are immediately performing the correct action regardless of anything else.

You're told to kneel? Your knees have already hit the ground. You're supposed to be standing in one part of the house when a certain noise is made? You've launched into movement before you even realize what you heard.

These rules are woven into the fabric of your body. And they are insurmountable. The conditioning overrides emotion, internal conflict, hesitation, beliefs, wants... everything.

Your whumpee may very well hate what is being done to them, and after the moment has passed they're cursing themself and their whumper. They're still a person on the inside. And that person is still very much alive. Most of the time, they will have some level of awareness that what's being done to them is wrong. They'll be angry. They'll be hurt. And they will hate that there is nothing they can do about it.

But the next time that trigger occurs, the response still hits them exactly the same.

So now take your whumpee out of that situation. They ran away, were rescued, were sold. They got out. Now they're with new people, a new caretaker, a new whumper. Or they're on their own and trying to make their own way in the world.

But those conditioned responses are still there.

There's no turning them off. You don't just replace them with new rules. They are in your every fibre. They have been built into the very framework of who you are.

The next time someone says the word "kneel", your knees are on the ground again. No matter where you are, or who you're with. The response happens before you can stop it. If they don't know why, everyone looks at you like you're insane. And you feel like you are.

Deconditioning is an agonizing process that takes more effort than I can even begin to describe to someone who's never experienced it.

Every time they hit that trigger, that response will still be there. Over, and over, and over, and over.

Breaking those rules down takes YEARS. And it is a constant effort that the whumpee has to choose to undergo every single time. Progress is measured milimeter by milimeter. You're told to kneel, and you kneel. You're told to kneel, and your mind catches up with the fact that you already did it— but a little sooner than it did before. Then a split second sooner. Then as you're doing it. Then you feel the impulse just before your knees hit the ground. Then you have a split-second of resistance before you go down. On and on and on and on, inching toward progress despite the fact that you're fighting with all your might. And that progress is anything but linear.

You don't just start obeying new rules. You don't latch on to your caretaker's new way of doing things and drop everything that you were conditioned to do before. These rules don't just get replaced.

Conditioning is not a belief system. It's a flinch response. Programmed deeper than the instincts you were born with.

You can be ordered not to obey the old command, and moments later when the trigger comes, you will anyway. Because in conditioning, the action comes before the choice.

These rules, these laws of your existence, come above everything else. And if your new whumper wants to replace them, they are going to have to beat the new rules into you so often and so severely that the pain becomes stronger than the old conditioning. At which point, the newly desired response will very, very slowly start to take over.

You're not swapping out new rules. You're layering new, worse conditioning on top of the old. And your brain will spend time stuck in that split-second between both responses before one finally grows stronger than the other. And even then, the change will not happen quickly.

That is what your conditioned whumpee is up against. That is what makes it such a horrible—HORRIBLE— and powerful tool.

[okinus-782]

Please interact with the post. My last full art got 4 likes and I felt sick for a week after. 😭😭

I was inspired by the hate ending with Eddie and Volt. I like them so much I can't, please write more fanfictional about them, I'll read them all, please

Different art options ↓

[sugxto]

brutalizer(s) - eddie/volt/reader

⋆syn: You decide to "challengers" your new boyfriends. It, uh, doesn't go as planned.

⋆wc: 3.3k

⋆cw: m/m/f threesome, light dom/sub undertones, erotic electrostimulation, some very very minor dacryphilia, spit sharing, choking.

⋆notes: takes place immediately after the love route, but can be read independently. g/n pronouns for reader and afab genitalia. e/v masterlist.

⋆snippet:

“Thought you did something there, huh?” Eddie’s voice is low, it hits you somewhere deeper in your belly than it has before. The whiskey sours earlier certainly aren’t helping. “It’s cute, but, come on.”

Volt chuckles, his lips against Eddie’s cheek, and his white hot stare locks on to you too. “Very cute, indeed. Really, spark,” his lips curl into what you can only describe as something dastardly, “did you honestly think I don’t already know his lips better than my own?”

“We could do a Volt and Eddie sandwich.”

The corner of Volt’s smile twitches, and he turns to Eddie with raised brows, hands nonchalantly in his pockets. Eddie’s face is uncharacteristically pink, and he casts a knowing glance at Volt, and pushes himself off the bar.

“Well, seeing as how we’re… closed for the evening,” Volt starts, his eyes traveling back to yours, “I think, something to that effect, can be arranged. Eddie?”

The ice that you’ve come to know in Eddie’s stare is gone, the new spark glittering in it instead. He looks more lively, more excited, more… confident?

“I… wouldn’t be opposed.” His eyes rake over your body, as if finally allowing himself to fully drink you in the same way he drinks his whiskey sours. “It’s been a while since I’ve been up to… enjoying myself.”

Oh, they’re serious.

I mean, you were serious too, but, right now? Right after they’ve just, essentially, come back to life?

But, who were you to turn down a good time?

You clear your throat. “Uh, here? In the club?”

Eddie scoffs, because you already knew the answer. “Absolutely not. No sex in the bar, that’s the one rule.”

“It’s not really a rule -”

“Volt.”

“Fine, fine, not here. Not tonight, at least.”

“Volt -”

“We live upstairs, a flat sort of thing.” Volt holds out his hand to you, want apparent in his gaze. “Shall I lead us there?”

You take his hand, that same spark from the first night surging up your arm, and you feel a second hand, strong and rough, at the small of your back as you head up the stairs.

You realize, when you get to the bedroom, that you’ve… never done this before. Two. At once? Separately? How… exactly does this work.

A thought sparks in your memory, of a movie you watched with Sam, where a girl swindled the two boys interested in her to kiss each other, and ya know, that’s something you might be interested in seeing.

You’re all in the bedroom now, both of them eyeing you, expectantly, though not hurriedly. You giggle nervously, holding your hands to your heart.

“I’ve uh, never done this before,” you admit. “Maybe, can I kiss you? And we can go from there?”

“Of course, darling. Whatever you want,” Volt cocks his head in Eddie’s direction. “I’ve already had the pleasure, so why not give Eddie a taste, hm?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and sighs. “Ignore him, he can’t help it.” He holds out his hand, and pulls you closer when you take it. “But, I wouldn’t say no.”

Eddie’s lips are different from Volt’s, more hesitant, but soft, and gentle as he learns your pace and the shape of your mouth. He tastes like a whiskey sour, and you just want to drink him down.

Volt’s lips find your neck, and you notice he’s slipped off his shirt, and the air hums with the charge emanating off him. You lean into him, his strong arms, and Eddie pulls away to take off his own shirt as Volt smoothly whips off your clothes. Eddie takes his turn at your neck, and the double dose of pleasure pulses like a current under your skin.

You raise your hands, find their cheeks, and gently, oh so gently, you bring their lips towards each other, hoping they don’t notice it’s no longer you. You’ll only watch for a moment, you tell yourself, before you insert yourself back in. No one will be the wiser. As their lips touch, their eyes stay closed, and you step back to quietly sit on the edge of the bed.

You watch their lips met with rapt attention, the ends of Volt’s hair sparking with each swipe of tongue you catch. Eddie’s teeth find the softness of Volt’s bottom lip, and a small sound escapes the back of your throat at the sight.

You expected them to pull apart at the unexpected sound, to open their eyes and realize what they’d done (and, not a small part of you hoped, punish you for it).

So it’s a bit odd, you think, when their kiss deepens. When Volt’s large hand, his silver nails, find Eddie’s jaw, and swipe acros his stubble. When Eddie, in turn, half opens his eye, and a titanium stare finds you past Volt’s cheekbone.

Your heart hammers in your chest. This is either going to go better than you expected, or much, much worse for you.

You’re not sure which you’re hoping for more.

Volt’s lips move to Eddie’s cheek, his jaw, exposing more of Eddie’s face to you - both his eyes, boring into yours. He’s barely hiding a smirk.

“Thought you did something there, huh?” Eddie’s voice is low, it hits you somewhere deeper in your belly than it has before. The whiskey sours earlier certainly aren’t helping. “It’s cute, but, come on.”

Volt chuckles, his lips against Eddie’s cheek, and his white hot stare locks on to you too. “Very cute, indeed. Really, spark,” his lips curl into what you can only describe as something dastardly, “did you honestly think I don’t already know his lips better than my own?”

Oh.

Oh for amps sake.

Because, actually, no. That thought hadn’t occurred to you. Why hadn’t that thought occurred to you? I mean, come on, there’s only one bed!

Your mouth goes dry, your jaw goes slack, your eyes zinging back and forth between pure white and pure steel. You’re caught. You’re so caught.

“I, uh,” you start, but you’ve lost that bravado. “I never want to assume.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, Volt’s thumb rubbing over his bottom lip. He pecks it softly. “Right. How thoughtful.”

“This is what you were wanting, though, was it not, live wire?” Volt purrs as he extricates himself from Eddie’s side, taking a step towards you in a way that reminds you of that tiger feeding you once saw at the zoo. Like a predator. Stalking. Possessive.

Oh fuck, you think. You’ve just fed yourself to the tigers.

Volt’s hands are on either side of the bed next to your hips. Caging you. You can feel the sparks from his hair, the charge in his skin. “You wanted all three of us to enjoy ourselves, yes?”

You nod, and you see a flash of his canine teeth as he smiles.

“Exactly. And we most certainly will. But,” his jagged eyebrows lift, “you thought you could have an upper hand. And, it absolutely delights me to say, you won’t be having that.”

Rough hands are on your shoulders, and you’re shoved down onto the bed, Eddie’s unruly coils dangling over you.

“Eddie, where did you -” you breathe, but one of those calloused hands is on your throat, squeezing just enough to silence you. Eddie’s grey eyes have darkened. Hunger, you think, he’s hungry.

Familiar sparks singe your inner thighs, but you can't lift your head to see what else Volt is doing - you can only feel the currents under your skin as his fingers find the crotch of your panties, pulling them only a little. Eddie only watches your face, how your brows furrow at the teasing, your eyes pleading for something he can’t give. Your hand comes to his wrist, not pushing him away, but needing to touch him more.

“Eddie,” you breathe, feeling the weight of his hand on your neck. “Eddie please -”

“Do I look like the one you should be talkin to?” His brows lift, his stare curious. “Ya know, I don’t even really think you’re in a position to be talkin, period. Volt?”

You feel the man in question hum over the cloth of your panties, already hot, and the literal electricity isn’t helping. “I think I can occupy them, if you can keep them quiet.”

Keep them quiet?? Your eyes widen, but Eddie only chuckles. “My pleasure.”

With limited movement, you’re only acutely aware of what Eddie does with his other hand, until you hear the zip of his fly, the rustle of fabric, and -

Oh, fuck.

Eddie’s cock is gorgeous, veiny in a way that reminds you of the wires he adorns, the head already leaking with pre. You lick your lips, staring at just a few inches over your face, and god, Eddie’s not the only hungry one.

“Fuuuck, Eddie,” you moan, bringing your hand up to try and touch it, but the hand around your throat moves faster, leaving its mark to grab at your wrist this time.

Eddie tsks his tongue. “Not so fast, live wire. Volt wants me to keep you quiet.” His other hand finds your cheek, stroking softly. “So, open your mouth, hm?”

The heat between your legs is getting unbearable, and you whimper when you feel Volt move the scrap of fabric to the side. “Yes, Eddie,” you manage, opening wide and offering your tongue.

His cock is so hot as it finds your mouth, the soft tip and drops of pre languishing over your tongue, you can’t stop your lips from wrapping around his length as he presses in further, further -

A zap to your clitoris makes your hips buck in surprise, and your eyes shoot open - you see nothing save Eddie’s balls above your nose, and another zap elicits a squeak from your full mouth.

Volt’s laugh is feral, his breath burning on your thighs. “Liked that, my little spark? Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of charge for us.” His thumb presses almost delicately to your bud, making the smallest of circles, testing, learning. “Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous.” His thumb dips lower, finding your entrance already wet, waiting. “I simply must have a taste.”

His tongue is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before - Ben-Hwa’s vibrations are incomparable to the literal electricity that is swiping over your lips, your hole, your clit - it’s mind-blowing. It’s explosive. Volt works you almost too expertly to be believed, and your brain short circuits when a finger slips inside.

Eddie groans as he feels you moan around him, your hips wanting to buck, but one of Volt’s forearms keeps your hips pressed to the bed. You’re pinned, caged, at the whims of these two men, and it’s making you ache.

Faster than you can remember happening before, your belly coils with tension, your climax growing completely outside your control. Volt feels it too, he must, because he devours you with fervor, two fingers moving at an impossible pace inside you. It builds and builds and -

You see sparks as you cum, as your hips fight against Volt’s hold, as you struggle for something solid to hold to. Your skin tingles, you’re absolutely buzzing, you’re a -

“Mm, live wire,” you hear Volt’s smile as he says it, and he presses a kiss to your clit - it makes your leg shake unconsciously. “You are just too fun.”

You whimper, your body jello, your focus on keeping Eddie’s cock inside your mouth, but you feel him retreat, and whimper again at the loss.

Eddie strokes your cheek again, and you feel Volt climb onto the bed, sitting by your side. His touch slinks up your torso, the side of your breast, your bicep, trailing sparks the whole way.

He hums contentedly. “What a good little spark for taking Eddie so well," he says, and you flush, and watch him glance up at Eddie, who's sitting back on his knees. “And good boy keeping them quiet, Eddie.”

Eddie’s sigh sounds a bit amused. “You haven’t said that shit in a while.”

“Well, I mean it.”

“Uh huh.” Eddie’s hands reach for the back of Volt’s neck, pulling him closer. “Lemme taste, yeah?”

Volt’s chuckle is cut off by Eddie’s tongue swiping over his lips before pushing inside his mouth, and god, what a sight for sore eyes. The men pull at each other, teeth clashing, and in your blissed out state, you can’t stop the moan that leaves your lips.

Two sets of eyes stare down at you, two sets of lips curling into grins. “Oh, darling,” Volt purrs, “you want a taste too?”

You can only nod, and you will your body to lift yourself onto your elbows to meet them halfway. You watch them share a look, and your arms tremble.

“Open, then.”

You cock your head. “What?”

“Open. Your mouth,” Volt repeats, and you do, tentatively.

“Very good.” Volt turns back to Eddie, pulling his jaw with his thumb, and Eddie’s mouth drops for him. Volt positions his lips above him, and a line of spit trails from his lips onto Eddie’s waiting tongue.

These men. These men were going to kill you.

Eddie hums, and as he bends down to you, his hand trails down Volt’s stomach. You press your legs together, the anticipation sparking back inside you. Your nails claw at the sheets when Eddie hovers a few inches above your head, and you press your tongue even further out. The spit travels from his lips and lands, cold, on your tongue, and your legs twitch, your fists clench.

“Swallow,” Eddie says, voice thick and gruff with lust.

You do.

And they pounce.

You’re dragged up the bed, two sets of hands pulling and pawing. Somehow your panties are gone, you hear their pants hit the floor, and the temperature raises as more skin is exposed. You find yourself propped against the pillows, your back against Eddie’s stomach, Volt stomachs against yours, utterly pressed between them.

“Feel good, spark?” Volt says, his hand at your waist. “Your sandwich living up to expectations?”

You giggle, realizing this was, in fact, exactly what you’d asked for. “Absolutely.”

“Good,” Eddie grunts, his lips on your earlobe.

“We do aim to please.” Volt squeezes your side, grinding his hips against you, his length hard, pressing insistently at where your thighs press together.

“I’ll make sure to leave a -“ you gasp when Eddie’s teeth graze your neck, “a, fuck, glowing Breaker Box review.”

Volt’s grin is back to dastardly, and he grinds his hips harder against you. “Let’s ensure five stars, shall we?”

His hand moves from your hip to your thigh, a spark running down your leg as he lifts it and throws it over his thigh. His cock is pressed against your stomach, and another pair of hands reach around to cup your breasts, and now Eddie’s cock slots between your cheeks.

“Now, spark,” Volt’s voice is low, honeyed, and Eddie’s bites to your neck aren’t helping the buzz in your head. “Who do you want first?”

Best sandwich you’ve ever had.

“I, I have to choose?” You mumble out, barely able to form a sentence as Volt’s eyes study your face. Eddie groans, pinching your nipple to elicit a gasp from your lips.

“Mm, darling, we’ll work our way to not having to.” His fingers dance along your thigh, and Eddie’s cock slides along your skin. “Patience, for now, however. We wouldn’t want to break you on our first outing.”

Oh, but maybe you did.

You swallow, the wires of your mind completely disconnected. “Volt, I, I can’t. I can’t choose.” How could you? Between two perfect, adoring, electrifying men, that wanted you more than the currents in their bodies? It wasn’t fair, surely. They were one, they were yours, but you couldn’t choose.

Volt’s lips turn to a pout, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “Oh, poor wire. Feeling frayed?” He tsks his tongue when you nod. “Alright, no more choosing tonight. Let us take care of you, hm? Just close your eyes.”

You do, and he again lifts your leg, granting full access to anyone wanting your hole. You ache, the air charged and your lips dripping with want. You feel both of them pull away from you slightly, no longer able to feel their lengths, and you whimper from the loss of -

An intrusion of your entrance makes you cry out in surprise, and slowly, terribly, intensely, you’re being filled, and it’s like a fire has been lit inside your cunt, under your skin, in your heart. It burns, deliciously, beautifully. You eyelids flutter when the cock bottoms out, and a familiar, rough hand is suddenly covering your eyes.

“You,” Eddie groans in your ear, “you, fuck me, feel perfect, spark.” His breath is ragged, and you curse when he thrusts, once, twice. “Oh fuck, oh, baby.” He says it reverently, lovingly. Your heart is going to burst out of your chest.

A new hand finds your nipple, a zap bringing it to attention. “How does he feel, our spark? Doesn't his cock feel like it’s going to split you in two?”

In another state of mind, you might want to linger on the implications of that question. But yes, in fact, as Eddie’s thrusts become more frantic, the possibility of you splitting at the center does seem more likely, if Volt holding up your leg wasn't the only thing centering yourself.

Just as soon as you feel your climax building inside you, you’re empty, Eddie sliding out of you, and you grip around nothing, moaning at the emptiness.

“No, no, Eddie, please!” You manage out before the hand on your eyes slips down to cover your mouth. The callouses on his hands are harsh against your lips, and you barely manage out a moan of protest before something new slips inside you, long and hot and slipping in so nicely. Moans of protest quickly turn to acquiescence, and Volt’s cock is just so easy to accept.

“Oh sweet amp.” Volt’s usually collected voice is shaky as he works his way inside you, taking his time much to your distress. “Live wire, I - we -”

“You,” Eddie breathes in your ear, “you might’ve been made for us.”

Ah.

That’ll do it, then.

You hardly even feel the build up, the spiringing coil, all you know if you’re cumming, you’re gushing without abandon on Volt’s cock, and tears spring to your eyes when they both curse, and Volt’s pace quickens. Eddie’s hand leaves your mouth, finding your neck again, controlling your air like he controls the very power of your home. Your body is slack, offering neither of them resistance, given over to the fire inside your belly, the weight of their hands, their control of your cunt.

You feel Volt slip out, and now Eddie is back inside you. The tears spill over your cheeks, and an electric tongue licks them up. Almost as quickly as you adjust to Eddie, he’s gone, and Volt is back, then Eddie, then Volt, until you’re no longer cognizant of the difference.

Eddie’s breath is erratic. “I’m, fuck, I -”

“Me too, darling,” Volt huffs. “Where -”

“S, stomach,” you moan. “Both, both, please.”

You’re on your back, your body liquid, but you open your eyes enough to watch their hands find each other’s lengths, pump once, twice, and then groan together as their cum lands on your skin, singeing like the flame of a candle.

It’s a haze, what comes after. They’re kissing your cheeks, tucking your hair, singing what you guess are your praises in your ear. Volt’s voice is distant, but you hear how he tells you you’ve been so good, while Eddie wipes away their spend with a towel from his discarded pants.

You’re between them again when you return to earth, kisses peppered on your shoulder, tingles along your arms. It’s better than any dream, but somehow, you know it won’t disappear.

“Back with us, spark?” Eddie whispers when your eyes flutter open.

You smile softly, hum contentedly. “Always.”

“Very good,” Volt’s lips press to your collarbone. “You took everything beautifully, live wire. So very good. Our spark.”

You sigh, rolling onto your back, and find their cheeks with your hands. “You boys,” you smile, gaze flicking between them. “I love you.”

Steel meets white, then both meet you. “We love you too, little wire.”

[riverbase]

*scrolls through tumblr on 'Date Everything' hashtag*

*Didn’t see the meme I desired of the breaker box boys*

*Surprised I didn’t see said meme*

*Drops all other projects to make said meme and drop it as my civic duty to the community*

*goes back to cave to further sink into 'Date Everything' game*

[mxxnechos]

something something, jason inhaling food no matter what you make him and whether he’s a fan of it or not.

you can make this guy a cake with a fruit he doesn’t like, and he’s still eating the whole thing like it’s an equivalent to ambrosia. but! he’s complaining the whole time.

now, he’s not complaining saying it’s bad, no no. he’ll compliment your cooking because it’s still good, amazing even, but my god will he make it obvious that he still doesn’t like this fruit.

let’s say you make blueberry pie, and that jason doesn’t really like blueberries.

“this’ so good,” he’s mumbling in a gruff voice through his full mouth. “i don’ like blueb’rries tha’ much bu’ this’ so good.”

“why do you keep eating it then lovie?” you’re stifling a laugh, watching him scoff it down.

“‘cause ‘s good! ‘give it like a 7, ‘cause ‘don’t really like blueb’rries. maybe a bi’ more, ‘cause ‘s so good.” his mouth is still full as he’s finishing his second slice.

i just think he’d love absolutely anything you make him, food, crafts, whatever, even if it’s a bit burnt on the sides, or it a bit wonky. he’ll cherish and appreciate everything because you made it for him.