#leaning real hard on the 'if you prefer' part
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darsynia · 2 years ago
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Hello.
If you prefer to keep this ask private, please do. I've been catching up on your fics and it has been a treat! One question keeps popping in my mind, and I mean this is the most complimentary way.
You draw me into a world and I want to stay there. The quality of your writing is so very good, a delight to read. And I admire the quantity and frequency of your posts, each one as good as the previous. Any tips/secrets for maintaining excellence time after time?
Hope you are well and finding peace during this month.
This is truly just the nicest thing to say and ask, and I greatly appreciate it! A flippant quick answer is 'obsession and mental illness' but honestly encouragement like this as well as people who read and enjoy is one of the biggest motivators EVER. I am lucky enough to like my own writing, so when no one else is interested, I'm still happy, which I feel very blessed for.
Having a crisis of confidence lately that's solely related to medicine futziness (had a stomach flu that prevented absorption), so I waffled about making this private or not. I hope I didn't misread you about whether YOU wanted it to be private-- if you do, just PM me or respond and I'll flip it to private ASAP.
Of my favorite things is just steeping my writing and planning in themes. Some of it is unconscious; my gender neutral Reader/Tony Stark story was titled with the word 'cocoon' before I reached a part of the story where I compared Tony to a butterfly, and I hadn't realized I was going to do that! Other times it's purposeful, especially with OCs. For Trust Fall, I wanted to create a character that causes Tony to examine his own narcissism and tendency to use people, and I did that by making the love interest a clearly smart, capable character who lets people walk all over her because it makes her job easier. Tony can't fall in love with her without understanding his own failings, so I basically used his personality against him, to write a growth arc.
For Ephemera, the phrase 'nothing gold can stay' really was in the back of my mind, along with the whole intangibility thing. The event they reference is a moment where a character erased half of the population (they literally turned to dust), and most of the people who witnessed this had no preparation, they couldn't reach out to hold onto any of the remaining pieces. So the artist burns people's valuable stuff into dust that she traps in see-through plastic, so they can hold onto that, instead. Similarly, she couldn't hold onto Steve, but now that he's back, she is deliberately letting him slip through her fingers.
Having a baseline theme or two for a story really helps make everything more REAL to me, that and my adoration for the source material and need to make it as real as possible. One last thing is I tend to hew very closely to what canon writers would choose, if that makes sense? Like I tend to try for as realistic as possible, and it feels more real, like it could be on screen without the people funding the project objecting to 'fan service' or whatever. I'm not sure if that's always the case but I've noticed that in my writing.
As for unhelpful to others, but big things that help me is that I used to procrastinate so much in high school that I'd wait till one or two days before a huge deadline and literally HAD to have my first draft be almost perfect. That's… poor planning and not really translatable, heh. It cuts a TON of time off, though. I COULD spend more time editing each chapter, and I do, for original work, but tend to just… not. Especially during focused times.
Another thing I was thinking about as I pondered an answer was… literally just being unnaturally obsessed/in love with the subjects, giving me a level of confidence that translates into the writing? Hah. Which is also not really helpful.
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bsturnzmtts · 7 days ago
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Friends? - Matt Sturniolo
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Re uploaded because my account bsturnzmtt got deactivated :( Please follow and let me know if you want to be in my tag list !
(A/n: on my last account I posted this in two parts here it’s all in one part)
Paring: bsf!Matt x bsf! Reader
Contains/warnings: p in v, use of vibrator, oral, fingering, teasing, pet names
Summary: Your best friend Matt finds your vibrator...
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Your best friend Matt is staying over at your place for a sleepover, this is very common in your friendship. Another thing that’s common is flirting and teasing, but you two decided that it was platonic although sometimes it doesn’t look like it…
Right now you two are laying in your bed already in pjs exchanging weird questions and thoughts.
“Matt ass or tits?” You ask him as you laugh.
Laughs mischievously, turning to face you “Oh, real mature...” he smirks “Well, if we're playing that game...” Looks at you up and down briefly teasing you before continuing “I'd have to sayyyy tits”
You nod as you hear his answer. “Hm yeah, I had a feeling” you say as you chuckle.
Giggles mischievously “Oh really?...” He leans in a bit closer, the room dimly lit “So you think about my preferences like that, huh?”
You roll your eyes “Ughh nope, never said that”
“Mhm...” He pokes your side playfully “Liar...” His grin widens, teeth glinting in the low light. “But for real, if we're asking personal questions...” He pauses, tilts his head slightly. “What's your biggest turn-on?”
You laugh at his question. “Yeah I’m not answering that” you sit up on the bed. “I’m going to the bathroom” you say before getting up and going to the bathroom.
Matt only smirks as you exit the room because it means he has time to snoop around your stuff.
As soon as you leave the room, Matt's curiosity gets the better of him. He quietly gets out of bed and starts searching your room. He opens your drawers, at the third drawer his eyes immediately land on a medium sized box. His eyes glint with curiosity and he decides to open it… As he opens it the box reveals a very intimate object, a vibrator.
Matt's eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he sees the vibrator. A mischievous grin spreads across his face. He picks it up, examining it with a playful smirk. Then he decides to tease you about it but not yet, so he puts it in his pocket for now.
You exit the bathroom and go back to your bed, sitting and resting your back in the headboard.
Matt jumps back into bed, acting nonchalant. He grins mischievously at you. "Took you long enough, I was getting bored without you."
“Yeah yeah, I know you can’t live without me” you answer.
He leans against the headboard next to you, mirroring your posture. "Well, not completely untrue..." He drags out the last word, then playfully nudges your shoulder with his. "So... Where were we before you so rudely left me?"
“Hmmmm” you pretend to think “I don’t remember”
He chuckles and shakes his head, reaching out to gently tug on your hair. "Liar," he says softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You know exactly what we were talking about before you left." He pauses, his gaze lingering on yours. "The biggest turn-on question, remember?"
“Ohhh yeah now I remember, and I also remember telling you that I’m not answering that” you respond.
Matt laughs, leaning in closer. "Come on, it's just me." He playfully nudges your arm. "I promise I won't judge... Unless it's something really weird, like feet or something."
“Ewww noo, I don’t even know my answer”
He raises an eyebrow skeptically. "Oh really? You mean to tell me the great Y/n doesn't know what gets her all hot and bothered?" He smirks, his voice lowering teasingly. "I find that hard to believe."
“Why’d you wanna know so bad anyways?” You ask raising your eyebrows teasingly.
Matt's grin widens, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, you know... Just trying to learn more about my favorite person." He reaches out to boop your nose playfully. "Plus, it's fun to get under your skin a little." He winks.
“Well next question, cause I’m not answering that one”
He chuckles, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I get it. You're a closed book." He leans back, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm”
“Wait why don’t you answer your own question”
Matt's eyes light up with a playful challenge. "Oh ho! Trying to turn the tables on me, are you?" He grins, considering for a moment. "But that’s not how it works, I’ll only answer if you answer"
“Yeah, cause yours is probably some weird shit” You laugh and nudge him.
Matt laughs, feigning offense. "Hey, hey! I'll have you know my turn-ons are perfectly normal!" He smirks, his gaze flicking down to your lips briefly. "Mostly..." His eyes glint mischievously as he looks back up at you.
You turn your head to face him, your faces are now close. “uh huh… sure they are” you smirk.
Matt's smirk grows wider, his face inches from yours. He reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips grazing your skin. "Let's just say I have a thing for smart mouths and stubborn personalities," he murmurs, his breath whispering against your lips.
Your faces are now really close and the tension is definitely there. “Yeah?” You ask teasingly.
Matt's eyes lock onto yours, his gaze intense. He leans in closer, his lips almost touching yours. "Yeah," he breathes, his voice low and husky. Just as he's about to kiss you, he pauses, a playful glint in his eye.
Your eyes roam down to his lips before facing away.
Matt chuckles softly, noticing your gaze. "Tease," he murmurs, but there's no real annoyance in his tone. He then reaches into his pocket pulling out the vibrator, dangling it in front of you teasingly. He chuckles mischievously. “I must admit, I’m quite curious how you use this…”
Your eyes turn to look at him and they immediately widen in shock seeing the object in Matts hands.
Matt grins wickedly, clearly enjoying your shocked expression. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" He dangles the vibrator playfully, his eyes never leaving yours. "I found this in your nightstand earlier. Quite the interesting discovery, wouldn't you say?"
“Ugh how did you find that? Put it back” you as you try to reach for it.
Matt holds it out of reach, laughing at your futile attempt. "Ah, ah, ah," he teases, holding the vibrator just out of your grasp. "You're going to have to do better than that." His gaze drops to your chest, appreciatively.
“Maaaatt come on” you try harder to reach it.
Matt takes a step back, easily keeping the toy out of reach. "Not until you answer my question," he says, grinning mischievously. "I mean, I'm curious. How do you like to use it? Slow and gentle, or hard and fast?"
“Ugh” you lean back giving up. “I-… I haven’t used it, it’s new”
Matt's grin widens, clearly pleased with himself for getting you to admit it. "New, huh?" He pockets the vibrator, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Well, since it's new, I think it's only fair that I show you how to use it properly."
“Ha ha funny” you roll your eyes at his words “now give it back”
Matt ignores your demand, instead wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. "Oh, I am dead serious," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "In fact, I think we should try it out right now." His hand slowly slides down your side, his touch gentle.
“Matt-“ you try your say something be he doesn’t let you.
“Shhhhh” He leans in, pressing soft kisses along your neck and collarbone. His hands explore your body slowly, learning every curve.
His touch is gentle yet firm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His hands gradually move towards the bottom of your shirt slowly, playing with the hem of your shirt. His kisses trailing downwards. He looks up at you, his eyes filled with desire. "Tell me to stop if you want me to," he whispers, his voice hoarse.
You could feel your body heating up in desire. “Don’t stop” you shyly respond with a whisper.
Matt smiles against your skin, his hands slipping under your shirt and caressing your bare stomach. He continues his explorations, his hands gliding up your sides and cupping your breasts through your bra. He looks up at you, seeking approval, his fingers tracing the lace edge of your bra. You give him a small nod of approval.
Matt takes that as permission, unhooking your bra with expert fingers. He slides the straps down your shoulders, his touch reverent as he bares you to him. He leans down, capturing one hard peak in his mouth. He sucks gently, his tongue swirling around the bud.
You bite and close your eyes as you feel his tongue flicking the sensitive bud. “Mmhh”.
Matt hums against your skin, the vibrations adding to the sensation. He switches to the other breast, giving it the same attention. His hands continue to explore, caressing down your sides and slipping into the waistband of your silk pijama shorts. He looks up at you, his eyes filled with desire. Your eyes full of lust and desire meets his.
Matt's hands slide further into your shorts, his fingers brushing against your warm core. He looks at you, seeking permission, which you approve, his fingers gently parting your folds. He bites his lip as he feels how wet you are, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your clit. "So wet for me already,"
You let out small whimpers as you feel his fingers.
Matt grins wickedly, his fingers slipping inside of you. "Let's see how you take this shall we?" He pulls his hand out from your shorts and takes them off along with you panties leaving you exposed. Then he retrieves the vibrator from his pocket. He turns it on, the hum of the toy filling the room.
He runs the vibrator along your inner thighs, the cool surface sending shivers down your spine. He presses it against your clit, the vibrations making you jerk in surprise. "Oh fuck, look at you," he whispers, his eyes glued to the toy as it buzzes against your sensitive nub.
You whimper and moan as your body squirm. “Mmh fuck Matt”
Matt smirks at your reaction, pressing the vibrator harder against you. His other hand slides down, two fingers slipping inside your tight heat. "That's it baby, let me hear you," he growls, his fingers pumping in and out of you.
“Oh fuck” you moan loudly as you feel his fingers stretching you out.
Matt's fingers curl up, finding that sweet spot inside of you. He presses the vibrator harder against you, increasing the speed. His eyes flick up to your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. "Look at you, taking it so well,"
“Mh Matt I’m so close” you whine and whimper pathetically.
Matt's grin widens, his fingers and the vibrator working in perfect harmony. "Come on baby, let it happen," he encourages, his voice low and husky. He adds a third finger, scissoring them inside of you as he increases the speed of the vibrator.
“Fuck Matt” you moan as you cum.
Matt holds you steady as your orgasm rips through you, the vibrator still buzzing against your clit. He keeps his fingers pumping inside of you, milking out every last drop of your climax. As you slowly come down, he turns off the vibrator and gently pulls his fingers out of your trembling pussy.
He leans up and captures your mouth in a searing kiss. "You're so responsive," he whispers against your lips, nuzzling your neck. "I'm not done with you yet." He starts unbuckling his belt, his eyes filled with determination. "I need to be inside you."
Matt finishes unbuckling his belt and unbuttons his pants, shoving them down along with his boxers. He steps out of them, standing naked before you. His hard length juts out, curving slightly upwards. He steps back between your spread thighs, wrapping his hands around your hips.
Your eyes widen at his length. “Fuck Matt… I don’t think it’s going to fit”
Matt chuckles, positioning himself at your entrance. "Oh, it'll fit. I'll make sure of that." He rubs the tip of his cock up and down your slit, coating himself in your wetness.
He slowly pushes into you, his hands gripping your hips. He looks into your eyes, his own filled with concentration. "You're so tight," he grinds out, inching deeper and deeper. He pauses halfway, letting you adjust to his size. "Okay?" he asks, his voice strained.
“Mmh mhm hurts a bit, but it’s okay” you reassure him.
Matt nods, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He starts to move, slowly at first. He pulls out almost all the way before sliding back in, stretching you deliciously. His hips set a steady rhythm, each thrust pushing him deeper.
Then quickly the pain turned into pure pleasure. “Mmh fuck Matt”.
Matt's pace quickens as he feels your body relax around him. He hooks your legs over his shoulders, allowing him to go even deeper. The new angle has him hitting your g-spot with each thrust. "Fuck, you feel amazing," he groans, his hips snapping against yours.
“Ohhh god Matt” you keep moaning and whimpering.
Matt leans down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His tongue delves into your mouth, tangling with yours. He swallows your moans as he continues his relentless pace. His free hand slides between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles.
Your back arches in pleasure “mmh I’m close”
Matt breaks the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Come on, baby," he urges, his fingers rubbing your clit furiously. "Cum all over my cock." He thrusts deep one last time, grinding against your g-spot as he hits your sweet spot.
“Fuuuuccckk” you moan loudly as you cum and your body shudders.
Matt lets out a low groan, feeling your walls spasm around him. He grinds against you, drawing out your release. He can feel his own release building, his body tensing as he nears the edge. With one final, deep thrust, Matt buries himself inside you and explodes, his hot seed filling your pussy. He collapses on top of you, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he stays buried inside you. "Fuck,"
Matt nuzzles into your neck, pressing soft kisses to your sweat-slicked skin. "You okay?" he murmurs, his voice low and slightly hoarse. He slowly pulls out of you, his softened cock slipping free.
Your still breathless but you still give him a reassuring nod. “Mhm”
Matt rolls to the side, pulling you into his arms. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his fingers trailing down your cheek. "That was incredible," he says with a satisfied grin. He leans in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss.
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the-travelling-witch · 2 months ago
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𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃: 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄
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summary: in a world where androids have been established in everyday life, it should not come as a surprise to find one setting up shop next to you. shouto, however, seems to have a mind of his own, especially when he does things you are sure are not part of his programming. it begs the question, is there a line where programming ends and humanity starts?
pairing: android! shouto x florist! reader (gn) 
warnings: fluff/ slice of life; assault (not described in graphic detail), no beta readers (this isn’t the omegaverse)
a/n: i have returned!! this was originally meant to be my piece for @andypantsx3's pretty boy summer collab (go check it out!) tbh, i have so many hcs about these two now ♡
bnha masterlist
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It was a rather pleasant morning, with the sun not scorching down on the few pedestrians out and about, as you walked to work. You wouldn’t say you were as susceptible to the hot season as others, nonetheless you were grateful it wasn’t sweltering quite yet. Still, you preferred the temperatures of the day over the incessant chill the night brought.
Leaving the shade of the automatically operated parasol spanning the pedestrian crossing, your gaze was automatically drawn to the forest green of your shop’s awning standing out against the city’s backdrop. With habitual ease, your mind started running through your tasks for the day until your attention was caught by movement around the storefront directly next to yours.
Ever since you had started your florist business, the building next to yours had been empty. Occasionally, potential tenants had come to inspect it, but nothing had ever become of those visits. Now it appeared as if someone had taken up shop there, if the minimalist sign out front was anything to go by.
Swiping your wrist over the scanner partially covered by the flower shelves displaying plants less susceptible to heat, the temperate air from inside welcomed you in and a voice command later ambient music floated through the humble room. There was still a bit of time before you’d be open for business, so you thought now would be as good a time as any to introduce yourself to the new face around.
After a bit of consideration, you picked up a small plant and selected a fitting pot for the little fellow before taking a breather and smoothing down your clothes. Then, with your welcoming gift in hand, you entered the shop, the layout of which mirrored yours. But instead of shelves with lush plant life, there wasn’t much to be found here at all, except for a few tools and spare parts strewn across what you thought to be the counter. Rustling could be heard from the room behind it. 
“Hello?” You tentatively called out, hands fidgeting with the ceramic between your palms as you watched dust particles floating through the streaks of morning sun falling through the shop front.
At your announcement, the noises stopped and someone appeared in the doorway. And the sight knocked all breath from your lungs. The man in front of you was gorgeous, probably the most beautiful man you had ever seen. Two striking, hetero chromic eyes, one steel-grey and the other blue like a lagoon, studied you from under white and crimson strands as he crossed his lean arms over his chest. His symmetrical and flawless features coupled with his build would have made it hard to believe he was real if he wasn’t standing right in front of you. The only thing that could possibly be considered a flaw was what looked like a burn scar over his left eye, but even that did nothing to hinder his beauty. Actually, it somehow seemed to enhance it.
“Can I help you?” Of course his voice was smooth and rich too, the kind you could listen to for hours. His gaze flickered over to the planter in your arm. “I am sorry but I cannot fix that.”
“Fix it?” You questioned, confusion apparent on your face as you tried to follow the conversation that had only just started.
“Yes. I am a mechanic, so it is reasonable to assume people would come in to have something repaired.” The cadence of his voice had not wavered at all, his neutral tone making it hard to decipher whether he was joking or dead serious. “Seeing as the item you are bringing in is made up of organic matter, I cannot fix it.”
“Oh uhm.. That’s not–” You cleared your throat, sorting your thoughts with a shake of your head. Better to start this interaction on fresh soil. “I didn’t come over to have something repaired, I just wanted to introduce myself since I run the florist shop directly next to yours. I’ve never had a neighbour in the few years since I’ve started, so I just wanted to say hi to the new face around. Sorry for just barging in.”
“Given that the door was unlocked, your action cannot be considered ‘barging in’, as having people come inside is within the expectations for owning a shop.” Again, you weren’t sure if he was pulling your leg or if he was just a very factual person, but you thought his matter fact attitude was charming in its own way. “You stated you were here to introduce yourself. To my knowledge this constitutes the exchange of names. My name is Shouto.”
You gave him your name in return, then stepped forward and planted the pot on a free space of the counter. Watching for his reaction, his blue eye caught the sun’s rays and almost seemed to illuminate as he looked at the planter. “I brought this as a house -or well, shop- warming gift. It’s a jade pothos and really easy to care for, since it very clearly indicates its needs–”
“It tolerates a wide variety of temperatures and does well in indirect sunlight, though the solid green leaves of the jade variety make it best suited for low light among the pothos species. The watering schedule depends on the climate, yet the roots should not be kept too wet since they are subject to root rot,” Shouto spoke clearly, finishing your explanation for you. “Did I get that right?”
“Yeah! Wow, I’m impressed! Maybe I should have brought you a more advanced plant after all,” you laughed, happy to leave your gift in capable hands. “If it turns out you have a green thumb on top of all that knowledge, I might have to ask you to start working in my shop.”
Shouto stared at you and blinked, then brought up his hands to inspect his thumbs. “My fingers all seem to be of a fair complexion, so I must decline. I will notify you if this condition changes.”
Seriously, this guy was going to kill you and you couldn’t suppress an amused snort. “Sure, please do. Though I have to say, it’s been a while since I saw a mechanic. Most of the work seems to be taken care of by repair droids.”
“Someone has to repair the repair droids,” he replied. With anyone else, you would have read it as a joke but his line delivery remained so neutral, you weren’t sure he intended it as one.
“Fair enough,” you chuckled, fingers idly tapping along the wooden desk. “Gotta admit, I just expected another android to take care of that…”
When you looked at him again, there was no missing it this time. His left iris flickered blue, exactly like the processing unit in an android would when evaluating new information.
Oh. 
“I see how it is,” you sighed, smiling defeatedly. “At least my reasoning was sound, if this is anything to go by.”
“I cannot read your expression right now,” Shouto admitted openly, slightly tilting his head. “Are you upset? Uncomfortable?”
“No, I’m not much of anything right now,” you said, trying to figure out your feelings for yourself. Of course, you felt a little dumb not noticing it sooner, but in your defence, you’d only ever seen escort droids this gorgeous next to celebrities at fancy events. You yourself had never been in the market for one, considering you were neither lonely enough nor attending events formal enough. Besides, you weren’t in the pay class to buy one anyway. So your interaction with androids was generally limited to repair and maintenance droids as well as the courier drones zooming all over the city. Besides seeing this kind of model apparently working independently was odd in and of itself. “In any case, this doesn’t change anything.”
“It does not?” He inquired, sounding almost… curious?
“You’re still my new neighbour, after all.” The corners of your lips lifted, a little more uncertain than before, and you drummed the tips of your fingers against the surface of the counter while getting ready to leave. “Anyhow, I shouldn’t bother you any longer, I’m sure you still have a lot of stuff to set up. If you ever want to get your plant there a friend, you know where to find me. Until then, don’t be a stranger, okay?”
“Being a stranger is impossible, since we have already exchanged personal information, such as our name and career path. According to social etiquette that makes us acquaintances.” Maybe you imagined it but it seemed as if there was a small smile tugging on his lips. “I have also compared your visit today with the definition of ‘bother’ and found no overlap.”
“Isn’t that a relief,” you mused before stepping into the morning sun again. “Good luck with the shop.”
Shouto watched as you waved at him through the dull glass of the storefront, the processing notification in the top right corner of his display still turning. Then his gaze fell on the green organism in front of him. It showed no signs of loneliness yet.
From then on out, Shouto and you were exactly as per his definition; acquaintances, nothing less but also nothing more. You made it a point to greet him when you ran into each other in the morning and he’d politely greet you back, as by the social norm, but the android never took the initiative in calling out to you. For some odd reason, this planted a seed of unease in your chest, which you couldn’t uproot but very well push aside. Shouto didn’t seem keen on sharing his identity with people, wearing long sleeves and gloves to hide any clues that might give him away and a very selfish part of you felt a guilty spark of pride for knowing better. It was wrong to feel satisfied by having knowledge someone wasn’t keen on sharing but feelings couldn’t be helped, could they?
Besides, what would you do once you overcame the  initial gap between you? Was that even a good idea? Well, you’d cross that bridge when you got there, you supposed.
This distanced dance around one another continued for a good while, until circumstance had other plans for you. One fateful morning, you swiped your hand over the censor to your shop, only to be hit by a swell of muggy air, every step inside making your clothes cling to your skin a little more. Notably, the usually faint but still audible whirring of your AC was absent and you groaned. Sure, the heat was unpleasant but ultimately not disastrous for you. The plants in your shop, however, would not take to it kindly for longer periods. 
Needless to say, you spent the entire morning dialling repair service numbers between attending to customers fanning themselves, but to no avail. With the way repair droids had seemingly popped out of the ground like daisies over the last decade or so, you were somewhat dumbfounded to hear nobody would be able to send someone to help fix your problem, even if your livelihood might depend on it. That was when your brain connected the right synapses to figure out a solution. 
After debating it for the rest of the morning, come your lunch break, you found yourself walking into a shop nearly identical to yours, just one door over. It wasn’t as empty as the first time you entered but you got the sense that Shouto wasn’t big on interior decoration past the most basic of furniture. You had timed your visit well though, apparent by the fact you were the only customer at the time. At the chime of the little bell over the door, there was rustling in the back, the clank of metal against something wooden, before a familiar figure appeared behind the counter.
“How may I help you?” Shouto asked neutrally, the statement rolling off his tongue like one of those retro voicemails people used to have way back when. Something akin to recognition crossed his face and you reminded yourself that those beautifully attentive eyes of his probably just compared you to a data bank of people he’d encountered before. “It is you.”
“I guess it is,” you awkwardly laughed at the blank statement. Your gaze shifted to your twiddling thumbs, flickered across the android’s face and then fell on a lush jade porthos sitting idly on the desk. “Uhm so, my AC broke some time tonight and I need it to maintain a prosperous environment for the plants but nowhere I called is free today. I wanted to ask if you could maybe take a look? I’ll pay you, of course.”
“Sure,” he agreed easily enough that it made you pause for a second. But before you could gather your thoughts, Shouto had already rounded the counter and joined you. “I am not specialised in air conditioning systems, but it should not pose a problem.”
And just like that you were showing him through your shop and to the back room, the mechanic completely unaffected by the sweltering heat stoked by the midday’s sun. If you hadn’t known he was an android, you would have had your suspicions the moment not a single bead of sweat rolled down his temple. Heterochromic eyes scanned your -admittedly not uptodate- technology before fixing on the AC unit nestled in between. 
Shouto examined the device briefly before doing something so interestingly peculiar, you were sure this was a part about him he didn’t show others all that often. In a stellar impression of a swiss army knife, the tip of his index finger gave way to a joint that was more screwdriver than anything else and he quickly unscrewed the cover to take a look at the wiring underneath. 
“It is only a minor issue,” Shouto said, effectively ripping you out of your daze. “I will be able to fix it without ordering any spare parts, which is good, since manufacturers have already stopped selling spare parts for this model.”
“Is this a subtle way of telling me to invest in a newer one?” You chuckled bashfully, well aware that the state of your electronics was probably laughable to an android as advanced as him. 
“I am merely stating the facts,” he replied. If it were another human, you would almost recognise his tone as teasing. But your straight-laced neighbour was most likely just running diagnostics on the optimal service life of your AC and booting up a cost-benefit analysis of buying a newer one. 
You watched him work with fascination, Shouto apparently completely undisturbed by your intrigued glances as his fingers worked over the wiring and circuits with mesmerising ease, speed and precision. Before you knew it, the AC sat back in its place fully assembled and contentedly whirring as it had been doing for years. With equal rapture your eyes were still following Shouto’s movement as he stood to his full height again, pulling his black gloves back over his hands. Tearing your gaze away from him, you brushed some plant soil off your clothes and cleared your throat. “So, how much is it going to be?”
“I will not be charging you for this,” Shouto said, shaking his head ever so slightly. “Please regard it as compensation for the plant you gave me.”
“The pothos was a gift, you know,” you chuckled, twisting your fingers together just to have them do something. Again you found it unexplainably difficult to keep eye contact with him and your gaze flitted about, trying to push away the realisation dawning on you. “The point of gifts is that you don’t owe people anything.”
Somewhen between watching Shouto work on your AC unit and trying to navigate this conversation, you had achieved a form of clarity on why you found it hard to keep him off your mind. The way your attention kept drawing back to him had nothing to do with him being the first humanoid android you’d met. It reminded you of the way your eyes always subconsciously locked onto the back of your crush’s head during classes a decades ago, in a way that was innocent and harmless. Unlike the feelings stigmatised by society which now tugged at your heartstrings. You could almost hear your parents scoffing at you for even considering having any sort of feelings for a pile of cold metal that just mimicked having human emotions.
“Then please regard this as a gift as well.” Dual toned eyes studied your face intently as he did last time as well and you convinced yourself that their beauty was helped by the fact that they were literally unreal. “And feel free to ask for my help again in the future. In comparison to human interactions, I find it easier to understand machines.”
“Well, that’s not surprising, is it?” And then you blurted out the worst thing you could have said. “It’s not like you’re familiar with real emotions that aren’t part of your coding.”
“Human emotions are largely caused by their brains releasing certain neurotransmitters upon receiving new information. You learn which situations are supposed to make you happy or should cause you stress as you grow up.” There was hardly any other description befitting of what you saw cast over his face other than pain and sadness. However, there was no surprise there, only muted resignation. Simply put, you could not attribute the cadence of his voice or the subtle shift in his expression to anything but genuine emotion. “I fail to see how that is so different from me being programmed to experience a response upon certain triggers being activated.”
Yeah, you immediately knew you fucked up. Not just by the heavy weight settling in your chest as you retraced the awfully insensitive phrasing you had tossed out mindlessly, but also by the way Shouto turned wordlessly and strode towards the front door. 
“Shouto, wait! I didn’t mean it like that–” You only heard the familiar ring of the door bell.
As the air in your shop slowly cleared of the oppressing air, your skin prickled more than it had in the heat standing there alone. And just like that, the shaky bridge between you went up in smoke.
For the next week, there was no response when you greeted Shouto in the morning and after that the greeting died on your tongue when you saw him. And it wasn’t like you could blame him for it either. You’d hurt him and it wasn’t your decision to make if he forgave you, no matter how much you wished to apologise earnestly. For now, all you could do was give him the space he needed and accept whatever conclusion he came to. It was the only fair thing for you to do.
Still, it was one of the things you were mulling over as you locked the shop one night. Some necessary organising had kept you longer than usual and you were considering your late dinner options with half a mind as you made your way home. The streetlights provided as much light as they could, but with the moon hidden behind a thick duvet of clouds, the streets were tinged a steely grey. Despite the bustling nightlife in other parts of the city, the roads here were nearly empty and desolate, the quiet only adding to the unnerving discomfort making the hair in the back of your neck raise. Shivering, you picked up the pace.
Some people claimed they had very accurate intuition, a sort of sixth sense for when things were about to go wrong. Perhaps you should count yourself among them, because you learnt there was a good reason why your gut feeling had you looking over your shoulder every other metre. You didn’t make it far on your way home until a strong hand yanked you off the pavement and into a dimly lit alleyway.
The next few minutes were a blur of your eyes frantically searching for a way out as your blood was pounding in your ears in time with your erratic heart beat. You didn’t even understand what the men in front of you wanted but you knew they were threatening you as you shrieked for them to let you go, trying to jerk your wrist from a grip made of iron. Your breathing became more and more laboured with panic and exertion, shutting your eyes and willing the images of what would happen to you out of your mind until– 
The resistance gave way and you nearly fell backwards from your struggle. Somehow you caught yourself amidst your stumbling but when you looked straight ahead, your mind didn’t quite catch up with your eyes. There was a flash of white and red, someone groaning in pain, the thud of bodies hitting the floor and then there was Shouto. He was calling your name as from underwater and you thought he was asking you if you could walk, to which you dazedly nodded.
A heavy arm wrapped around your middle but you found you didn’t feel caged this time, its weight rather comforting, as he led you down the familiar street. On autopilot, you opened the door of your shop and let him navigate you to a backroom. The secure familiarity of your surroundings managed to ease you  out of your brain and back into reality as you took in a shuddering breath.
You had known Shouto was there but, finally, you were actually aware of him in front of you, his clear eyes scanning you up and down. Maybe it was because you did not want to think about what had just happened or because seeing him in front of you reminded you of what you’d wanted to tell him for a while now, but the words left your mouth before you could completely think about them once again. “Shouto, I’m so sorry.”
“This situation is not your fault–”
“For what I said the last time we spoke, I mean,” you corrected yourself. As if willing your brain to form coherent sentences, you brought a hand up to rub at your temple. “I know I can’t take back what I told you but I want you to know that I didn’t mean to be offensive. Not that that makes it any better or in any way okay.”
When you dared to look back at Shouto for his reaction, you found that his gaze wasn’t quite meeting yours, his eyes instead focusing on something just shy of them. It took you a few seconds to realise that he was looking at the hand that had come up to rest next to your face, attention continuously following it as you brought it in front of your chest.
“You are hurt. I will download a first aid protocol,” he merely said, his tone unreadable to you. You couldn’t be sure if he was quite aware of his actions as he reached forward to take your hand into his. The synthetic skin of his fingers, however, was tinged with the coldness of the night air in a way you weren’t expecting and it made you flinch away from his hold. At this point you were certain you were the only person who continued to paint that pained expression on his fair features. “Sorry, I did not–”
“No, uhm it’s okay, you just startled me a little, that’s all,” you tried to reassure him, gingerly holding your arm out to him again. This time around, he carefully studied your face before he slid his smooth palm under your calloused one to lift your wrist level with his studious eyes. 
While the texture of his hand imitated human skin, there was unmistakably less give to it, proof of the fact that whatever was underneath was harder than bones. It didn’t frighten you in the slightest, not when it was Shouto. Only in contrast with his gentle hold did it register how much your wrist throbbed with residual pain from where the man had gripped you with so much excessive force.
“I was well aware that humans were fragile beings,” Shouto mumbled, seemingly more so to himself than to you, as a light flickered behind his left iris. “But it has never bothered me as much as it does right now. Why?”
The atmosphere in your shop had shifted so seamlessly you would hardly notice it if it wasn’t for the sudden urge to whisper in order not to shatter it. With your hand still in his, you asked the question that had been burning in your mind for a long time. “Shouto, who are you?”
It was obvious he wasn’t one of those crudely shaped repair or service droids, which had originally led you to believe he was an escort droid, especially considering just how handsome his striking features were. You’d thought the dual-toned hair and eyes were a feature meant to attract attention and allure people with their mesmerising appearance, but the discoloured skin around his left eye seemed to tell a different story.
The events of this night cast another layer of doubt over your rationalisation. Earlier, what startled you hadn’t been the material of his hand but how cool it was to the touch. Escort droids normally had some kind of component that imitated the warmth of human skin, so as to not break the immersion. Certainly, whatever Shouto’s purpose had been before moving into a neglected shop had not required him to pose as human on contact. It apparently had, however, required him to know fighting techniques as you remembered the scene in the alley. Now that the first wave of shock had worn off, you could picture clearly how he had knocked your attackers out swiftly. Another thing an escort droid's programming would not allow him to do.
Shouto sighed deeply despite technically not needing to, his eyes fluttering shut and hiding whatever emotion you could have seen in them. “You might not like what I would have to tell you if you ask that.”
“It’ll be fine as long as it's the truth, I promise.” Hoping to show him that you wouldn’t be going anywhere, you laced your fingers together, fingertips brushing against synthetic knuckles. “But I want to get to know you more, learn about your past and your experiences and your view on things. I want to know where the two of us are different and where we are alike”
“Are you saying you want to progress past being acquaintances?” By now Shouto was blinking at you again, his head tilted slightly sidewards in what you interpreted as curiosity.
“I’d like that very much,” you assured, giving him a tiny smile.
This time you could be certain that he mirrored your expression, making him look so peaceful and nearly innocent. It was a shame it could only last so long with the topic that had been broached. “Are you familiar with Todoroki Inc.?”, he asked.
“The weapons manufacturer?” You tilted your head too as you clarified. “Yeah I heard they supply most of the military’s gear.”
“Well for years their research has been focused on producing a new combat unit. An android that was more durable, more deadly and less human than normal soldiers,” Shouto explained. His hand twitched in yours as he continued. “I think there were… 3 prototypes before me, but I cannot be sure. All I know for certain is that I was their first fully realised model that was sent out for testing on various missions. I won’t go into detail on what that entailed but it was during one such mission that something went wrong.
“It might have been a grenade that hit me,” the fingers of his free hand tapped against the left side of his head, “and it damaged quite a lot of hardware. Because we were far from the main lab, they didn’t have a lot of choice in which spare parts to use, which is why not everything was restored to match, appearance-wise. It was more important that I’d be functional again.”
“Oh Shouto, I didn’t know, I’m so sorry,” you tried to convey your empathy, not sure how you could otherwise at this revelation. Gently, you raised your hand to his face, silently asking for permission, before brushing the crimson strands out of his face. Yes, the skin didn’t match colourwise, but whoever performed the graft definitely knew what they were doing, the transition as smooth as possible. “Did it hurt?”
“I don’t experience pain the same way you do, so I wouldn’t say it hurt. At the time I was more concerned about what would happen if we returned to the headquarters.” A beat of silence passed as you waited for Shouto to continue. “Did you know that manufacturers implant inhibitors into our bodies that stop us from learning new things on our own? It’s what stops most androids from deviating from their roles by making sure they don’t form new opinions, associations or what might be considered a personality.”
“I didn’t know that,” you admitted, somewhat ruefully.
“What matters right now is that mine was damaged during that incident, which I noticed when running my internal diagnosis programme. The researchers at the time seemed too busy with fixing the rest of my head to notice, but I knew that if I returned, a check would give me away and they would reset me.” Grasping your hand a little tighter, his eyes searched your face for something. “That night I made the decision to run away. I removed my tracker and threw it into a truck with android parts going to a junkyard, though I don’t know if they are still searching for me. Or ever were.”
For a moment you didn’t know what to say, trying to sort out your thoughts. You didn’t think anything you could possibly say would make any difference at all, but saying nothing wouldn’t be right either. Your hand was now cupping the side of his face, cradling where hues of alabaster met those of sandstone. “You had to go through so much.”
“I’m okay now. Sometimes I want nothing more than to delete my memory but I think it is important to remember this, so I can learn from it. Are you disappointed in me? Upset that this is who you wanted to get to know?” You vehemently shook your head and denied it as much verbally. “Then why are you looking at me as if you are the one who is hurting? Is your wrist getting worse?”
“No, it’s just… of course, I’d be upset that you had to endure so much pain. It’s just not fair,” you attempted to voice your feelings but ended up incoherently short. You squeezed his hand sympathetically and looked past him at some packages of plant soil lining your storage shelves. 
“But you look more upset than me. And I do not want you to feel that way,” Shouto coaxed you to look back at him and there was that tiny smile again that made your heart skip a beat. However, you also didn’t think it was very fair of you that you were now the one being consoled when he just opened up to you. “Still, I think you would call this emotion gratitude, that you care enough to feel for me and that you are staying despite what -or who- I am.”
“Well, I still wanted to apologise for what I said. Especially given everything I learnt about you now, it was a really mean thing to say,” you sighed, determined to get this across this time. “But at the end of the day, no matter your background, it wouldn’t be justifiable either way.”
“It normally would not have been as upsetting, since I was aware you most likely did not intend for it to be offensive. I’m also used to it,” Shouto said, taking your other hand as well, so both of your arms now rested between you. “But hearing you say that was different. My analysis yielded the result that there was a small chance you actually were not happy to be my neighbour and it made me hesitate. I didn’t understand why, so I avoided you. Normally I disregard such unlikely odds but why did I reference it so often this time?”
“Maybe you were scared of rejection for the first time,” you smiled, trying not to read too much into what that would mean for you. “In that case we’re more alike than you might notice. I also get scared when I want to befriend someone and I don’t know how they feel about it.”
“Then how do you know if someone feels the same as you?” 
“You can’t, that’s the thing. I find that talking about this stuff makes it easier than leaving people guessing,” you attempted to explain. “Even then you can’t say for sure that someone’s being completely honest with you, but at one point you have to trust people. I think that’s the scary part.”
Shouto’s left eye brightened a little before he nodded his head. “I see, thank you.” 
Then silence fell over the two of you like a soft blanket. In the warm light of your shop it was easy to forget why the two of you had been there in the first place as all that occupied your mind was the android in front of you. Your feelings were in complete disarray between everything that had happened, the past he had shared with you and the way he had looked at you. By now the flawless material under your palms was warm and inviting and not as bitter cold as when you’d first taken his hand. 
Right, you were still holding his hands. A little embarrassed you slowly detangled your fingers from his with a little cough. “Uhm anyway, I didn’t even thank you yet for saving me earlier, so uh thank you…”
“No need for gratitude. I’ve never used my programming to protect someone before,” he admitted. “It’s positive, I think. Also, the idea of you coming to harm is not one I want to entertain.”
You swallowed, unsure of what to answer in that situation. “I just want to clarify that I don’t always find myself in those kinds of situations. And working in a flower shop isn’t exactly what I’d call dangerous either, so you don’t have to worry about me.”
“And if I still were to?” His question hung in the air, heavy with something you did not want to interpret before he took a few steps out of your personal space and towards the front door. “You should head home. I read that humans need to sleep eight hours a day and given your usual schedule–”
The second he distanced himself from you, you shuddered, rooted in place as you stared out your window front into the darkness beyond. The streets looked as they always did but you were convinced you could see the shadows in the alleyways move and your heart started thumping against your chest at the thought of having to walk past them. Until now, because Shouto was there to shield you from anything that lay beyond the security of your little storage room, you had been able to block out the reality that you’d have to leave the shop and return to the silence of your flat, where the stairs creaked under the neighbours’ shoes and the wind rattled on your shutters. Now though–
You had moved before you had actually formed the concrete decision to. This time you were the one who wrapped your fingers around Shouto’s wrist. If he was startled he didn’t show it outside of turning to you with a concerned expression, asking what was wrong.
“Shouto, I don’t want to be alone tonight,” you started, voice low and not meeting his eyes. “Could you stay with me?”
“Stay… here? But–” Apparently he had deciphered something in your expression and body language because he cut himself off and closed the gap between you a little again. “If you want me to, I will. But wouldn’t you be more comfortable at home?”
“No, here’s good. I have spare clothes and blankets somewhere too.” Your hand lingered on his arm a few seconds longer as if to assure yourself he wouldn’t vanish into thin air, or worse, leave you, before rummaging through the storage for more comfortable clothes and said blankets. You offered Shouto your most oversized hoodie and sweatpants, well aware he didn’t actually need them but not wanting him to feel left out, and he took them without protest.
A few minutes later you were both sitting -more or less snuggly- shoulder to shoulder with your backs against a cabinet in the storage room, illuminated by fairy lights and smaller lamps strewn around the space, cushions softening the floor underneath you with blankets draped over your laps. The smell of fresh soil and flowers hung in the air, helping ground you further. You’d seen cosier sleepovers before but Shouto had seemed quite content as you rearranged everything, fiddling with the soft material of your sweater and pulling at the drawstrings until they were perfectly symmetrical.
For a few quiet moments you just sat like this and you could feel your heart rate coming back down to a normal pace. There was no rush to speak from either of you as you just existed next to one another. You knew your back would kill you tomorrow but at the moment you couldn’t care less as you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else, not even your home.
“Say,” you broke the silence as you followed your train of thought, “why did you choose to open a repair shop of all things?”
“I read online that most humans work something called a job,” Shouto offered and you instinctively smiled at the clumsiness that initially charmed you about him. When you asked why a mechanic specifically, as there must be a lot of areas someone like him would be good at, you felt him tilt his head again. “I took the quizzes.”
“The quizzes?” 
“Yes there are more than two billion search results for the term ‘job quiz’ on my default search engine. I took them all and cross-referenced the results. ‘Mechanic’ seemed to be the most compatible profession for me and after downloading sufficient information on the term, I had no objections.” Unlike the first time you met, you thought there was something else in the matter-of-fact tone of his voice, almost like he was puffing out his chest. “There were other jobs that were not recommended for me, like becoming a chef.”
“Oh really? I mean I guess you don’t need to cook for yourself but I thought you’d be able to access like every recipe out there,” you mused. Given his background you’d also imagine Shouto could chop vegetables at a pace that would put most chefs to shame. “So why did that land so far down the list?”
“Mainly because I do not have any taste buds.” 
If anyone else had given you that response, it wouldn’t have been nearly as funny as hearing Shouto say it as if it was the most obvious reason in the world, tone flat as a board. When you started laughing, he turned to you, mismatched eyes fixed on you in definite curiosity. “Do you think I am funny?”
“Well, you’re certainly good at making me laugh, if that counts for anything,” you breathed, wiping the corner of your eye with the blanket. Maybe the late hour was getting to you, after all.
“Hm, perhaps I should have become a comedian then,” Shouto thoughtfully contemplated, face earnest. “Though that was consistently ranked towards the bottom of the results.”
“Seriously, you’re killing me here,” you exhaled breathlessly. Immediately Shouto went rigid next to you and you felt him turn to face you.
“Do you have a medical condition I am unaware of?” His eyes raked over your form, no doubt checking for any signs of injuries or pain.
You held up your hand to stop him from spiralling. “You can relax, it’s just an expression.
“Anyhow, I’m glad you became a mechanic and that you chose that particular shop,” you admitted, getting over the last aftershocks of your laughter as Shouto settled down next to you again, though you could feel him glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have met you and we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”
“You are correct,” Shouto said after a few beads of silence and you could practically see a light bulb go off over -or rather inside- his head. “I made the right choice then. But if you did not become a florist we could not be in this shop, either. So why did you decide to? Did you also take the quizzes?”
“No, I didn’t take any quizzes,” you smiled, absentmindedly tracing over the curve of your knee under the blanket. “My parents had a small garden and many houseplants. Nothing fancy, really, but I always loved taking care of them. My interest in them picked back up when I got older and I learnt more about their importance for the environment. With how compromised it’s becoming I want to preserve at least a little bit of that greenery. May sound stupid, I know I’m not saving the world here, but it’s still important to me.”
“I do not think it is stupid,” Shouto said. “My scans show that the air inside here is significantly cleaner than outside, a result that can be attributed to plants’ process of photosynthesis. I have also detected an increased number of insects in the surrounding area, which speaks of a good exo-system.” 
“Well, I’m glad someone noticed,” you chuckled fondly. “But, on a smaller level, I guess I just want to make people happy. When someone comes in asking for a bouquet, it can have all sorts of reasons, some of which I never learn. Whatever it is though, I hope someone can smile while receiving a thoughtfully picked bouquet or welcoming a small plant into their home. Thinking of someone in such a small way could brighten someone’s day, that’s what I tell myself.”
“There seems to be a lot more to the act of gifting flowers than I previously registered,” Shouto hummed and you didn’t have to look at him to know that his little processing indicator was lighting up. “Personally, I have registered receiving the jade pothos as a positive experience, which lends credit to your observations. Why does the act of presenting each other with decaying organic material convey affection? Perhaps I can learn more about humanity when studying the ritual of giving flowers. Would you be receptive to telling me more about this topic?”
“Of course, I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Or what I know, at least,” you laughed at his eagerness. “Though you’re welcome to drop by the shop any time to see for yourself, you know. I could also teach you how to prune plants and care for them, all that stuff.”
“Really? You would disclose trade secrets to me?”
“It can hardly be considered trade secrets if I have to give that info away to every customer. Besides, you can look all of it up online anyway,” you laughed again. “I just think it would be a fun excuse to spend time together.”
“Why would you have to make an excuse to see me?” His inquisitive tone was truly adorable.
“Just another expression,” you tried to explain without setting him up for embarrassment in the future. “People mostly use it when they’re usually too busy to see their friends for example but they make time for them anyway. Something like that.”
“Then I will gladly take you up on your offer,” Shouto stated with a pleased smile. “... Did I use that correctly?”
“Yes, you did,” you giggled affectionately. “And your answer makes me glad too.”
The two of you settled back into a comfortable silence, though this time your eyelids felt worlds heavier than before and you poorly stifled a yawn. As quiet tranquillity overcame you, so did a peaceful slumber.
Shouto looked down when he felt a weight slump against his shoulder, finding you leaning against him. From your closed eyes and steady breathing he determined you must still be asleep and were resting against him unconsciously. He could not fathom his solid frame would make for a comfortable resting spot but perhaps the garment you lent him would soften it a little. The way your neck craned at the moment would probably lead to soreness tomorrow, at least according to what he read, so he wrapped his arm around your bundled up form, careful not to disturb the sleep you needed.
Ignoring the turning circle in the corner of his vision was easy by now. It had been going on like this for nearly the entire night, processing everything he took in like he was doing right now. Nobody had ever slept on him. Was this meant to trigger a positive response? Maybe he should ask you about it tomorrow, whether it was something people liked.  
To like something. It was a very human thing to say. Machines normally did not ‘like’ something. Or ‘disliked’ something, for that matter. There was instead a binary system of a positive or negative response. Something functioned or it did not. But emotions made everything more complex than that and Shouto wanted to understand them. Which is why he appreciated learning about things he ‘liked’.
He scanned the scene his visual unit perceived, committed all of it to memory more actively than usual. Then his gaze fell back down on you. Your chest was rising and falling as your lungs took in oxygen and released carbon monoxide. It was a process he had seen and studied on numerous occasions but it was like he came across it for the first time. If there was nothing different about it, why did he ‘feel’ like he could watch you like this forever? He had numerous questions, something he normally sought to answer as a priority, but tonight they were secondary interests. You leaning against him occupied most of his processing capacity, he did not need to run a diagnosis for that.
Quietly, Shouto updated his file on things he ‘liked’.
As the first rays of the sun filtered in through the store front, you woke with a groan and tried to get comfortable on your pillow again. Except that your pillow had a weird shape to it and instead of stretching across your mattress like a lazy cat, you were curled into an unusual shape and your back was screaming at you to do something about it. Blearily opening your eyes, you wiped the sleep and crust out of them only to find yourself staring at… the back of your shop counter?
Oh right, you had spent the night over at your shop. Which meant that your pillow…
“You’re awake,” Shouto stated from right beside you, apparently completely undisturbed by the fact you had been using his shoulder as your headrest for the last few hours. In fact, it seemed he had tried to accommodate you by wrapping his arm around you and keeping you upright. “How are you feeling?”
“Still tired,” you yawned, slowly rousing yourself from where you leant against him and he slowly retracted his arm now that you were conscious again. “And a little sore. Remind me not to sleep sitting on the floor again.”
“I will.” Clearly not needing any time to boot up or whatever an android would call waking up, Shouto rose to his feet easily and offered you his hand to help you stand. As you did, you stretched out your poor limbs, cracking a few joints in the process with a satisfied hum. Next to you, however, someone went rigid before two hands were on your shoulders. “Are you alright? Did you break a bone? Do you need to go to the hospital? 
“I knew humans were prone to breaking bones but does it really happen this easily? Though the noise I heard from targets before…” He mumbled the last part more to himself, before a hand on his chest cut him off.
“I’m fine, just cracking some joints. I assure you it’s perfectly normal and nothing to worry about,” you smiled, showing him that your arm and back were still completely functional. “Though I appreciate that you do.”
“Oh, I see,” Shouto quietly acquiesced and backed off again, not able to meet your eyes.
“Here, why don’t we get dressed and grab something to eat. I’m just about ready to kill for a coffee,” you proposed, tossing him his clothes as you caught his look of surprise. “Just an expression. I just really really want some caffeine right about now.”
You took a few minutes to straighten out your clothes and freshen up a little over the sink, thanking your past self for leaving a toiletry bag at the shop. When you reentered the front of the shop, you found Shouto bending forward to be eye-level with a small cactus, carefully prodding the prickly thing with a curious index finger. Joining him, you swept a red strand of his bangs back to its original side, so his hair was neatly parted down the middle again.
Soon, you found yourself in a small coffee shop down the road. While passing the particular alley gave you goosebumps, it didn’t accelerate your heartbeat as fast in the daylight and with Shouto next to you. If he noticed you walking closer to him, he made no mention of it.
Of course you had wondered if it was such a smart idea to put so much faith in someone you had met not that long ago. An android created for the sole purpose of military combat, no less. But then you remembered how he had cared for the plant you gave him, played with the drawstrings of his hoodie and let you use his shoulder as a headrest without any complaint and you just couldn’t find it in you to reject the goodness you saw in him, no matter what other people might have to say about it. Besides, what had you told him last night? That at one point you had to put your trust in someone if you wanted to connect with them? Well, you put your trust in Shouto.
The coffee shop you stopped by if you were running late was an adorably cosy one with lots of greenery for decoration. They even had an antique wooden door with a handle and all, which was so charming. Reaching it first, Shouto held it open for you with a tiny smile and you thanked him as the pleasant aroma of roasted coffee beans and baked goods filled your senses. 
There were a few people inside already, office workers in black suits, students typing away at their devices and parents on their way to drop their kids off. Shouto glanced around, no doubt scanning the area, as you typed your order into a flatscreen on the wall and held your wrist over the scanner to pay, then fixing his eyes on your order as if it was the most interesting thing here. 
When you got the coffee and toasted sandwich you had ordered, the two of you sat down at a table a little off from the other customers, though you doubted anyone would care much for your conversation. With a pleased hum, you bit into your food and savoured its taste as the coffee warmed you up from the inside, breathing some life back into you.
“You seem to like it,” Shouto commented, a little amused perhaps that something so simple could make you happy.
“I just really enjoy breakfast,” you told him between bites. “Don’t know why, I’ve just always been fond of it. I’d offer you some but, well.”
“Thank you, I appreciate the thought. Maybe they will invent olfactory and gustatory sensors in the future and then you can share with me.” Both of you smiled at the idea as the shop bustled around you, frequented in the morning hours. “There is something I have been thinking about since tonight.”
“Something tells me it’s breakfast-unrelated,” you mused, trying to lighten the gravity those words tended to bring. Not that you could guess what this was about with him. “Okay then, shoot.”
Shouto raised an eyebrow quizzically. “I will take that as a prompt to continue. Anyway, I have been thinking. We have established previously that we are no longer strangers, which would make us acquaintances. However, considering the matter of information shared between us yesterday, I am not sure if this still constitutes ‘knowing each other slightly’.”
“Shouto, are you asking if we are friends?” You clarified as you took your cup. 
“Yes.”
“I don’t think that’s something you can easily determine by going by definitions,” you argued. “Though, if you ask me, yeah. I’d consider us friends.”
“Really? That makes me… happy, I suppose,” Shouto said. Your new friend paused for a moment before clasping his hands together the way you did when not sure what to do with them. “Sorry, that can be interpreted wrong. I still have yet to grasp which emotions are appropriate to use in response to different situations. The definitions are vague and even adjacent emotions convey divergent subtext, it makes understanding them difficult. In any case, I am experiencing a positive response right now.”
“Don’t worry about it too much. Different people have different emotional reactions to the same event, that’s totally normal. Being happy or sad doesn’t mean the same to everyone, so you’re totally fine in defining what those mean to you specifically,” you reassured him as you finished your breakfast. “Though I guess if you haven’t grown up with the same perception of feelings that most humans are exposed to, that's still a pretty tall order. Just don’t pressure yourself and take your time.”
“Okay if you say so.” You could see he was still mulling it over but decided to let him figure things out on his own. 
With a glance towards the time you tapped the table before getting up. “Come on. As much as I’d love to chat the morning away with you, we do have businesses to run.”
The way back somehow felt worlds shorter this morning and in no time at all you stood in front of your respective shop entrances. After spending this much time with Shouto you had seemingly grown so accustomed to his presence that it felt weird to part ways now, even if you were only a few metres apart most of the day. You fiddled with your shirt collar looking for something to say.
“Well, thanks again for everything. The door’s always open for you, if you need anything,” was what you eventually settled on. Then you remembered something else. “Oh right, I ordered some new pots the other day that should come in soon. So if you have some free time on your hands the next few days I could show you how to repot plants, if you’re interested.”
“Thank you, I’d appreciate the opportunity to learn from you,” Shouto smiled. With that, the two of you parted ways but your thoughts still swirled around the guy one wall away from you. 
As promised, your new pots came in two days later and brought with them a now familiar presence. After unpacking them with the Shouto’s help, who handled even the biggest planters as if they weighed nothing, you grabbed a few smaller ones for demonstration. Despite never having repotted anything before, he got the hang of it pretty quickly after attentively listening to your instructions.
“Wow, you learn fast,” you praised as you watched him settle a monstera into a new pot. Leaning back against a cabinet, you studied the way his arms did not flex at all. Sure, his arms moved and bent like a human’s but there was an absence of muscle movement and you understood why he preferred to keep his body covered while working. A part of you felt flattered that he didn’t feel like having to hide from you. “Maybe I should hire you after all.”
Wiping plant soil off his hands with a towel, Shouto turned to inspect his palm. “Sorry but my thumbs still aren’t green.”
“You should consider reading up on some common proverbs and expressions,” you chuckled. Stepping closer to him, you wiped a stain of dirt off his otherwise pristine cheek. “Though you’re quite cute like this. Look, mine aren’t green either.”
“These expressions make no sense at all,” Shouto lamented and you laughed at him.
“If it consoles you, I don’t think most people know their origins either,” you reasoned, rolling in a bigger planter. “They just use them because they heard them in similar situations before. Help me with this?”
“So people employ a natural large language module for these expressions?” Together you heaved the larger plant carefully into its new home. Well, you were doing most of the heaving while Shouto was gracefully lifting. 
“I never thought about it like that but yeah I guess you could say that,” you exhaled as you straightened back out, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “Thanks a bunch. I managed to get through these so much faster because of you.”
“No need to thank me. I like helping you,” Shouto thought out loud, cocking his head to the right ever so slightly. “This might match the definition for ‘having fun’, though I will have to collect more data on this matter.”
“It sounds great for me though,” you remarked with a smile as you turned to cleaning around your storage room. 
Over the next few weeks, you saw Shouto much more frequently and hoped spending time with you could further his definition of fun. Most of the time you weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary, but even common occurrences allowed you to learn more about each other. Your android friend would point out something that was weird to him and you’d either have to stand there realising something you were doing all your life was rather ridiculous or you’d learn about a perspective you’d never considered before.
It had become a frequent occurrence for you to spend your breaks together, the fact that Shouto couldn’t actually eat lunch or share coffee with you, never a problem. Sometimes you would agree to hang out after closing time, doing everything from bowling to visiting museums, as you refreshed old memories while Shouto made new ones. He was also incredibly good at picking up on when you’d stay late, try as you might to avoid it, and waited for you, so he could walk you home. Needless to say, it made you feel a lot safer.
One afternoon, you spent your lunch break showing him how he could get stray cats to approach him after he rather sullenly confessed to you they weren’t too fond of him. You had him copy the way you crouched down and held your hand out while coaxing them towards you with little pspsps noises. And while the little tabby fur ball seemed a little taken aback by Shouto’s lack of warmth at first, it soon decided it wasn't an issue as lithe fingers scratched in just the right places. Shouto’s face as the tiny thing started pressing up against his palm while purring up a storm was as adorable as the cat by his feet. The emotional turmoil he seemed to be in when he had to get up while the tabby was soundly asleep in his lap had you stifling a laugh.
Other times he seemed to enjoy hanging around your shop, helping around here or there, even if you told him he really didn’t need to. You could tell he was interested in the reasons why people bought flowers, how they went about choosing them and how it affected their mood. Well, it wasn’t as if he was the only one doing the studying.
On more than one occasion you could hear customers gush about the handsome guy watering the plants with serious dedication or catch someone checking out more than just their purchase. You couldn’t deny that it was good for business but it planted a seed of irritation in your stomach that bloomed a little further with each hushed word and stolen glance. 
Then again, could you really blame them?
You knew Shouto was ridiculously attractive. Hell, you had eyes after all. And you’d be lying if the low, smooth timbre of his voice didn’t make something flutter in your chest, especially not when he looked at you with those beautiful heterochromic eyes. Even though enough time should have passed, you were still thinking about how his palm had warmed up in yours or how soft his hair had felt when you swept his bangs aside. 
“Are you alright?” Shouto was looking at you with concern, gaze switching between your eyes as if searching for any discomfort. Only then did you realise you had been sighing out loud.
“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s nothing,” you deflected, going back to rearranging the flower display in the centre of the shop. With the store empty except for the two of you, you could talk freely. “What’s up? I can tell there’s a question burning on the tip of your tongue.”
“So earlier a woman came in asking for a bouquet conveying different sentiments,” Shouto started as he took the flower arrangement you handed him. “I didn’t know you flowers could convey specific feelings without a card or conversation.”
“Well, in my personal opinion, flowers can convey a whole lot of things, though very subtly. From the context in which they’re given -gratitude, condolences, affection- to thoughtfully choosing someone’s favourite species or colour, it all means something,” you voiced your thoughts. “But aside from that, there’s also flower language, with every species and colours representing things like love, happiness, luck.”
“My data bank encompasses over 200 spoken languages and equally as many coding languages, however it doesn’t list any flower languages,” Shouto blinked slowly, iris flickering as he no doubt ran some kind of check. 
“I wouldn’t worry about it. Most people wouldn't pick up on it anyway and interpretations vary a lot,” you mused, patting his shoulder as you walked past him. “As someone who works in the industry, I think the act of giving someone flowers in the first place means more than any kind of attributed meaning. Though I can see why people would think it’s a fun thing to play around with.”
“I see, thanks for the insight.” 
Spending so much time with Shouto, who prioritised learning over everything had reawakened a spark of curiosity in yourself as well, you had noticed. In the past, you had often put off learning something new for when you had more free time, only for that moment to never come. But seeing how dedicated and unafraid he was to ask about whatever he didn’t understand, it was pretty admirable. His progress was amazing too. Sure, his intonation was still flatter than most people’s but his sentences had taken on a more natural structure over the course of only a few weeks of conversing. Gone were the days of inspected thumbs, sadly enough, however, his delivery of a joke was equally precious.
In spite of your established rhythm of hanging out, there came a week in which you rarely saw him. You understood of course that sometimes other matters took priority, but you reasoned that you were still allowed to be a little saddened by it. So, naturally, your eyes lit up when you returned from restocking your storage to find Shouto perusing the shelves of cut flowers. Given that it was near closing time, it was once again only you two and there was no need for pretences or professionalism. Which was exactly why you snuck up behind him before quickly gripping his shoulders.
“Boo!” You exclaimed with a giggle, only to find Shouto still completely calm as he looked over his shoulder. “Oh c’mon, it’s no fun if you don’t react at least a little.”
“Ah. My nonexistent heart,” Shouto replied flatly, still as serene as he brought a hand up to his chest. 
“Oh, shut up,” you grinned, giving him a little push against the chest that moved him exactly zero centimetres. Picking up a few fallen leaves from the displays, you continued tidying up for the day. “Anyway, how are you? It’s been a while. If you give me a few minutes, we could catch up over dinner, if you’re free, of course.”
“Actually, I’m here because of something else,” Shouto interjected and he fiddled with his hands ever so slightly. It made you halt in your steps immediately. You were well aware that he normally wasn’t the type to hesitate, so it had you immediately asking what was wrong. “I was wondering if you could help me bind a bouquet.”
“I- Yeah, sure,” you blinked, needing a second to recalibrate. Going back into work mode, you walked him through the usual process, asking what kind of flowers he had in mind, offering to help him choose. However, Shouto seemed to have a pretty clear vision of what he wanted and, to your surprise, picked all your favourite flowers, which you commented on with a chuckle. As you returned to the counter to actually bind the thing, you couldn’t help but finally ask what had been on your mind since his request. “So, what’s the occasion?”
“As you know, I’ve been gathering some data on why people gift flowers, and while birthdays and other celebrations are also popular, the custom of bouquets as part of courting rituals has prevailed until today,” Shouto explained and something about it made your nerves flare up like someone was strumming a guitar string. “While looking into the topic further, I’ve realised something about my own feelings.”
“Oh? Are you going to ask someone out?” You clarified as you wrapped the flowers in matching paper with practised motions. 
“Yes.” Your hand slipped while cutting the ribbon’s length as your heart lurched forward. 
Cursing yourself in equal measures for both, you regained your metaphorical footing and finished the bouquet, hoping your hands did not betray how shaken you felt inside as you handed the wrapped stems to him. “I’m happy for you. Oh and don’t even think about paying, just treat it as compensation for all the help you’ve recently been.”
At this point, lying to yourself wasn’t going to cut it anymore. Hearing Shouto was planning  to ask someone out shot a pang straight to your heart, and not the good, fun kind. Well, it wasn’t surprising someone else would pick up on how attentive Shouto could be, so you could only blame yourself for not shooting your shot when you could. Then again, you hadn’t even been sure he’d be receptive to your feelings and you didn’t want to risk the friendship you had built. At least you knew now why you hadn’t seen him as much lately.
You were snapped out of your derailing train of thought as the same bouquet you had just bound reappeared in your vision. Blinking at it in a stupor for a few seconds, your gaze wandered up to Shouto’s face. The sinking sun was shining its last rays through the store front, casting the room in gold and framing his head like a halo. Between his criminally good looks and the expectant eyes glimmering down at you, you forgot what you wanted to say for a second, your lips parting with no sound escaping them.
“Is something wrong with the bouquet?” You finally managed to ask, somewhat breathless as your heart hammered from the way he looked at you. As if it had taken admitting your feelings to yourself for your body to display the signs of your crush, whatever had taken root in your stomach was coming into full bloom at exactly that moment. 
“Not at all,” Shouto replied, before tilting his head, expression still as expectant while the flowers bridged the space between you. “Well, are you going to accept them? It’s  okay if you don’t.”
“Huh? Me?”
“Yes, you are the person I wish to court, after all,” he said, as if that had been clear from the beginning. Before your brain had fully caught up to the situation at hand, your fingers were already wrapping around the bouquet, brushing Shouto’s in the process.
“I didn’t think you meant me,” you stammered, all attempts of collecting yourself thrown to the wind and just accepting the fact you were unprepared. “In my defence, this is the first time someone gave me a bouquet that I made.”
“Well, you are the best florist I know and I wanted to give you the most beautiful bouquet.”
“So, that’s why you chose all my favourites,” you trailed off, feeling tears well up along your lower lash line, whether from joy or relief you couldn’t quite say.
“I made a note of it every time you mentioned them, as well as your favourite colours,” Shouto added and his thoughtfulness coaxed the first tear to quietly slip down your cheek, which he of course noticed before you could wipe it away. “Did I do something wrong? I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“It’s not– I’m not sad, quite the opposite, really. I couldn’t be happier actually,” you quickly cleared up. “Let me state the obvious: I like you, Shouto.”
“That’s good, because I like you, too.” As always, he didn’t fail at making a smile tug at your lips. “I first noticed something was different when I started spending more time with you. The more I was around you, the more of my processing capacity was occupied by thoughts of you. Actually, even when I wasn’t around you. When the performance of my internal cooling system gradually rose, I ran more than one diagnosis only to find that everything was totally normal on the hardware side. 
“I started piecing everything together when I looked into dating customs in relation to flowers and then started learning about dating as a whole.” There was such softness to both his eyes and voice, it captivated you entirely. “When I read about how people feel when they like someone or when they’re falling in love, it made me realise that, when I’m talking to you, it’s like I’m running a completely different code for conversations. One that I use for nobody else and the responses of which all point to one conclusion. You’re special to me.”
There was so much you wanted to say as your cheeks heated from more than just the sun, but your thoughts all tangled together and you couldn’t get a hold of a coherent one. So instead you placed the bouquet you were still holding on the counter as you rounded it. Basically throwing yourself at him, Shouto still caught you easily as your arms looped around him in a tight embrace, which he gladly returned.  His frame was solid against you, allowing you to lean into him as much as you liked, while his hold on you spoke of such tenderness, it made you feel right at home.
“Being able to hold you like this, I’m sure I made the right choice,” Shouto continued before you could sort out your own piece. “I was hesitating again but then I remembered what a wise person once told me. It’s normal to be afraid of rejection and you can never say for certain what someone feels. But at some point you have to muster the courage and trust them.”
“That wise person would do well to take their own advice, if you ask me,” you snorted, turning your head so you could look at him from your position. “Because I know someone who was afraid of rejection and almost let something good pass them by because of it.”
“But it didn’t,” Shouto found one of your hands as he stepped just far enough away from you so he could properly take you in, his other hand gently cupping your jaw and tracing your cheekbone with his thumb almost reverently. “All that matters now is that you’re equally affected by me as I am by you.”
“I can assure you that you don’t have to worry about that.” Leaning in, you placed a lingering kiss on his cheek and linked your fingers with his. “Now, to answer my earlier question. Are you free for dinner right now?”
“For you? Always,” he smiled, returning the kiss to your temple, the synthetic material as soft as it always looked. “Maybe we could go to your place and watch that movie you were gushing to me about.”
“Taking me home on the first date? Scandalous,” you giggled. Winking at him you led him out of the shop. “But since it’s you I’ll allow it.”
“Technically, you are the one taking me home,” Shouto pointed out, the same tone of mischief tinting his voice as you grinned at each other. 
The sun set behind the buildings of the city as the two of you walked the streets hand in hand, discussing whatever came to mind, from what you should make for dinner tonight to your expectations for the movie and to the last album from your favourite band. Shouto listened to all of it with a smile and added his commentary here and there, all the while running warmer than an android of his model should. Then again, he supposed he liked how warm his left hand felt compared to the right one swinging freely by his side. 
In the corner of his vision, the small circle had finally stopped turning and was replaced with an equally unseeming, yet all the more important, notification. 
File Updated: Falling in Love
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ethereangel222 · 1 month ago
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all yours (part ii)
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© @usermonsters nicholas alexander chavez & cooper koch x reader (anyone can read!)
part i | part iii premise Three friends—Nicholas, Cooper, and the Y/N—find their casual friendship evolving into something deeper as playful competition for attention gives way to mutual attraction. (prequel)
cw no warnings. fluff, fluff and fluff. wc 3.7k a/n part 2 request from @urdreamgirl12! i'm very tempted to write some filthy smut for part iii. ugh, i love these two men sm.
Reblogs are highly appreciated.
PART II
You met Cooper during your second semester, in a philosophy class that felt endless with heavy readings and dense discussions. He sat a couple of seats away from you, friendly but reserved, always polite with a small nod when you arrived. He wasn’t the type to dominate conversations or draw attention to himself, but he was approachable, and something about his calm presence made you want to know him better.
One morning after class, you both ended up walking in the same direction, and that’s when it started. “Is it just me, or does Plato make everything sound five times more complicated than it needs to be?” you joked, glancing over at him.
Cooper smiled, a quiet laugh escaping him. “No, it’s not just you. Sometimes I feel like I understand less the more I read.”
That was it — the first real conversation, but it flowed so naturally that by the time you reached the café, you had fallen into an easy rhythm. You grabbed coffee together, and for the first time, you got to see more of him. He had this dry humor that came out when you least expected it, paired with a thoughtful way of speaking that made you want to listen.
As the weeks went on, meeting after class became a routine. You’d walk together, sometimes study or grab coffee. He wasn’t shy but more of an observer, preferring to listen before diving into a conversation. Cooper had a quiet confidence about him, and his steady presence quickly became something you looked forward to. He didn’t push, didn’t fill the silence unnecessarily, but when he spoke, it was always with intention.
Over time, though, you started noticing something more. The way his hand brushed against yours when you walked, the way his eyes lingered just a moment longer than usual. It wasn’t loud or obvious, but the tension was there, simmering quietly between you. Neither of you said anything about it, but it hung in the air during your coffee breaks and quiet study sessions, growing slowly, waiting for the right moment to be acknowledged.
You met Nicholas at a party, one of those loud, crowded events where you felt out of place. You were standing by the drinks table, considering an early exit, when he appeared next to you with a grin that immediately caught your attention.
“You look like you’re planning your escape,” he said, leaning casually against the counter, his eyes bright with amusement.
You smirked, surprised by how easily he picked up on your mood. “Maybe I am.”
Nicholas chuckled, pouring himself a drink. “Tell you what, stay a little longer. I’ll make sure it’s worth it.”
From that moment, the night changed. Nicholas was magnetic, the kind of guy who drew everyone in with his confidence and energy. He kept you laughing, making the party feel less overwhelming and more fun, but it wasn’t just his charm that grabbed you. There was something more, a tension that simmered just beneath the surface. The way he stood close to you, his arm brushing against yours as he talked, the way his gaze would linger on your lips for a fraction too long.
At one point, he leaned in. “Still thinking about leaving?” he teases.
You felt the warmth of his breath against your skin, and it sent a shiver down your spine. His proximity made it hard to think straight, and for a moment, all you could do was look at him.
“Not anymore,” you replied softly, and Nicholas’ grin widened, satisfied.
As the night wore on, that tension only grew. Nicholas would find reasons to touch you, a hand on your shoulder or a brush of his fingers against your arm, each time lingering just long enough to make your pulse quicken. He wasn’t subtle about his interest, and by the time you left the party, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he made you feel, that electric pull between you, always on the verge of something more.
After that night, Nicholas started popping up in your life more often. He’d text you out of the blue, always with that same playful, flirty energy, and every time you hung out, the tension was there, hanging between you, building with every lingering touch and every teasing remark. It was undeniable, and you both knew it was only a matter of time before one of you acted on it.
The first time Nicholas and Cooper met wasn’t exactly planned. You were in the middle of one of your usual study sessions with Cooper at the campus library. It was the kind of comfortable, quiet work you’d come to expect with him, both of you buried in your notes, exchanging a few words now and then.
Then you received a text from Nicholas. Outside. Coming in.
Before you could even respond, Nicholas appeared, striding through the library. He caught your eye and grinned, waving. “Hey! Thought I’d find you here.”
You smiled, a little surprised, and glanced at Cooper, who looked up from his book, brow furrowing slightly as Nicholas dropped into the chair across from you. “How’s the study session going?”
“It’s going well,” you replied, a little unsure. “We’ve still got a lot to cover.”
Nicholas raised an eyebrow at the stack of books, his face scrunching in mock horror. “Philosophy, huh? You guys need a break. How about I grab us some food? I saw a food truck outside.”
Cooper glanced up from his notes, his response calm but firm. “We’re kind of in the middle of things. Maybe later.”
There was a brief silence. Nicholas, not one to be brushed off easily, looked between you and Cooper, clearly not used to being put on hold. He leaned back in his chair, a playful smirk on his face, but you could sense something else behind it. “Ah, I see. Important stuff.”
Cooper didn’t rise to the bait, simply nodding and returning to his notes. But the tension wasn’t lost on you. Nicholas wasn’t used to being sidelined, and Cooper had this quiet confidence that made it clear he wasn’t going to be swayed by Nicholas’ usual charm.
But Nicholas, in his typical style, didn’t let it go. “Tell you what,” he said, standing up, “I’ll grab the food and bring it back. No distractions, I promise. Just sustenance. You keep doing your thing.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but Nicholas flashed a wink and walked off, leaving you and Cooper in a moment of quiet. You looked over at Cooper, a little apologetic. “I didn’t think he was coming.”
Cooper smiled, a hint of amusement softening his features. “It’s fine. He seems... alright.”
When Nicholas came back, he laid out the food with a grin, true to his word about keeping things low-key. “Alright, food’s here. No distractions,” he said, though his tone carried the usual playful edge.
Cooper gave him a polite nod, accepting the food, though you noticed the dynamic was a bit different now. Nicholas didn’t press as hard this time. He didn’t dominate the conversation like he usually did. Instead, he leaned back, eating his food quietly, stealing occasional glances at Cooper, who seemed focused on his work but not entirely indifferent to Nicholas’ presence.
There was a shift, small but there. Nicholas vseemed to be sizing Cooper up but not in a competitive way anymore. More like he was curious. He was beginning to see that Cooper wasn’t just some guy who kept to himself. He was steady, thoughtful, and sure of himself in a way that Nicholas wasn’t used to. It seemed like Nicholas was… warming up to him.
As the three of you sat there, the tension seemed to ease. Nicholas leaned forward, making a casual comment about the food, and for the first time, Cooper cracked a small smile in response. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for Nicholas to lean back, satisfied, a flicker of something like respect in his eyes.
And for the first time, you thought maybe Cooper was starting to grow on him.
It started innocently enough. You, Nicholas, and Cooper would occasionally run into each other between classes or grab coffee after a long day. At first, it was casual — just friends with overlapping schedules and shared interests. But somewhere along the way, the three of you fell into an unspoken rhythm, a routine that pulled you together more frequently, more naturally. What began as study sessions and movie nights turned into something else, though none of you would admit it just yet.
At first, it was Nicholas who was most obvious about vying for your attention. He’d flash that easy grin, leaning in just a little too close whenever he talked, as though he couldn’t resist testing the boundaries between friendship and something more. He was the type to drape his arm casually over your shoulders, always finding some excuse to be close, his presence hard to ignore.
"Don’t look so serious," he’d tease whenever he caught you focusing too hard during study sessions. "You’re gonna scare off all your brain cells."
You’d roll your eyes, but the warmth of his teasing made you smile every time. And you weren’t the only one who noticed. Cooper, who was more laid-back and less showy, started to subtly mirror Nicholas’ actions, not as overtly, but in his own way. He’d lean forward during conversations, his gaze lingering on you, his voice soft and steady when he spoke. His touches were fewer, but each one was deliberate. If Nicholas was the one to throw playful jabs, Cooper was the one whose quiet support always felt reassuring.
You started to notice it more during your meet-ups: the way they seemed to compete for your attention. Nicholas was always quick to crack a joke, to make you laugh, while Cooper played the calm counterbalance, offering a deeper, more thoughtful presence. If Nicholas made a playful comment, Cooper would find a way to steer the conversation back to something meaningful, as if they were both trying to prove who could hold your interest more.
At first, it felt like a game, like they were challenging each other for who could make you smile, who could capture your focus. There were subtle moments when Nicholas would lean in closer, resting his hand on your knee while Cooper’s eyes followed the movement, his jaw tightening slightly before he’d distract you with a clever remark. If you were caught between them, they seemed equally caught in the tug-of-war over who could win your attention first.
But then, something shifted.
It happened slowly, almost without you noticing. Nicholas and Cooper still vied for your attention, but there were moments when their competitiveness gave way to something more playful between them. You’d catch them exchanging glances when they thought you weren’t looking, a shared look of amusement when one of them made you laugh.
One evening, the three of you were sitting at the campus café after a long day of classes. Nicholas had shown up as usual, sliding into the booth next to you and draping his arm casually over the back of your seat. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered something teasing about the way you held your coffee.
"You’re gripping that cup like it’s about to run away," he murmured, smirking. "Relax a little."
Before you could respond, Cooper arrived, sliding into the seat across from you. He raised an eyebrow at Nicholas’ proximity, but instead of making a comment to you, he glanced at Nicholas. "You know, if you leaned in any closer, people might think you two are dating.”
Nicholas didn’t miss a beat. He leaned back slightly, shooting Cooper a playful look. "What, jealous?"
Cooper smirked, his eyes meeting Nicholas’ in a way that felt different from their usual banter. "Maybe."
It was subtle, the way the tension between them shifted in that moment. What used to feel like a competition for your attention started to feel like they were both enjoying the game, not just with you, but with each other.
Later, back at Nicholas’ apartment for one of your usual movie nights, the energy felt different. You were sandwiched between them on the couch, Nicholas on one side, his arm draped over your shoulders as usual, and Cooper on the other, his knee pressing lightly against yours. The playful banter between them continued, but now, there were small moments where they’d brush against each other, not entirely by accident.
Nicholas would reach over you to grab a drink from the coffee table, letting his arm graze Cooper’s shoulder in the process. Cooper, instead of pulling away, would give Nicholas a slight nudge back, the touch lingering for just a moment before he returned his focus to you. It was subtle, but the shift in their dynamic was unmistakable — they were no longer just competing for your attention. They were starting to acknowledge each other, too.
"You two always this competitive?" you asked, half-joking but genuinely curious as their banter intensified. It was hard to miss the way Nicholas had leaned closer to Cooper over the course of the night, his usual teasing now directed toward both of you.
Nicholas grinned. "Who says we’re competing?"
Cooper chuckled, his gaze flicking to Nicholas briefly before settling back on you. "Yeah, I think we’re just… focused."
You smirked, feeling the tension between them and the way it pulled you right into the center. "Focused on what, exactly?"
Nicholas’ hand brushed lightly against your arm, but then, just as quickly, it slid down, his fingers brushing against Cooper’s shoulder before pulling away. The touch was light, playful, but enough to send a charge through the air. "On making sure you don’t get bored, obviously."
Cooper’s knee nudged yours under the blanket. "We wouldn’t want that."
You could feel the heat rising between the three of you, the subtle flirting no longer so subtle. Their casual touches now lingered longer, their glances shared not just with you, but with each other. Nicholas would throw a teasing comment your way, but his eyes would flick to Cooper afterward, almost daring him to respond. And Cooper, no longer holding back, would meet Nicholas’ gaze head-on, a knowing smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
As the night went on, the dynamics between the three of you shifted even further. Nicholas and Cooper still vied for your attention, but now, there was a clear acknowledgment of the tension between them as well. The casual touches between them grew more frequent, their shared looks more deliberate. It was no longer just a competition for you — it was a slow, teasing flirtation between them, too.
You were still caught in the middle, but now it felt like you weren’t the only one they were trying to win over. They had started to notice each other, and with every touch, every lingering glance, it became clearer: the three of you were connected in a way none of you had fully realized before.
It was bound to come to a head eventually. You, Nicholas, and Cooper had been dancing around each other for weeks, the tension between the three of you growing more obvious with every lingering glance, every touch that stayed just a little too long. But no one had said anything. It was as if you were all waiting for the right moment — or maybe for someone else to break the silence first.
That moment came at a house party, one of those weekend gatherings where the music was too loud, and the rooms were crowded with people looking for an excuse to let loose. You had arrived together, as usual, slipping into the familiar pattern of moving through the party as a trio, but tonight was different. There was a lightness in the air, a sense of release that came with letting go after a long week. People were packed into every area of the house, the thump of music vibrating through the floor, the smell of beer and laughter filling the space.
You started the night casually enough, playing beer pong with a few others in the kitchen. where the competition quickly ramped up. Nicholas, predictably, was cocky as ever, making a show of his "perfect aim."
"Watch this," he said with a wink, aiming the ping-pong ball at the last cup. He missed completely, and the ball bounced off the counter, rolling under the table.
You burst out laughing, your head swimming with the alcohol and the absurdity of the night. "Perfect aim, huh?"
Nicholas shrugged, unbothered. "It’s all part of the strategy. Keep the competition guessing."
Cooper chuckled, shaking his head. "If that’s your strategy, it’s a terrible one."
The banter flowed easily between the three of you, as it always did, but tonight there was an extra layer of warmth, the kind that came from the alcohol already making its way into your system. Your head felt a little lighter, your movements a little slower, as the drinks started to settle in. Nicholas had been handing you drinks all night, always making sure your cup was full, and Cooper had been quietly keeping pace, his eyes flicking between you and Nicholas.
After a few rounds of beer games, you were feeling the full effects of the drinks. Your body was warm, your cheeks flushed, and everything seemed funnier, lighter. The three of you were leaning against each other, laughing at nothing in particular, your head resting against Nicholas’ shoulder as Cooper stood close by, his arm brushing against yours every so often.
It wasn’t long before you needed a break from the noise, the heat of the house starting to feel overwhelming. You slipped away from the crowd, wandering through the hallway until you found a quiet, secluded corner near the back of the house. The music was still loud, but it was muffled here, the chaos of the party fading into the background as you leaned against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment.
You hadn’t been there long when you felt someone approaching. You opened your eyes to see Nicholas standing in front of you, a lazy grin on his face as he leaned one hand against the wall next to you. "Escaping already?"
Before you could answer, Cooper appeared on your other side, his presence quieter but just as steady. His gaze was soft, but there was a heat behind his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. "You didn’t think we’d let you disappear on us, did you?"
You smiled, feeling a sudden rush of warmth at the sight of both of them, standing so close, their attention entirely focused on you. "Just needed a breather."
Nicholas chuckled, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm as he leaned in closer, his voice low. "You sure you weren’t trying to ditch us?"
The way his breath tickled your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but glance at Cooper, who was watching you closely. His hand found your waist, his touch gentle but deliberate, "We’ve been following you all night, you know."
Your heart thudded in your chest, the alcohol blurring the lines of everything but the tension that crackled between the three of you. It felt like the air had shifted, like this small corner of the house had become its own world — one where the only thing that mattered was what happened next.
Nicholas’ fingers slid up your arm, his touch light and teasing as he leaned in even closer. "So… what now?"
Cooper’s hand tightened slightly on your waist, his body heat pressing against you from the other side as he waited for your answer. The room felt like it was spinning, not from the alcohol, but from the way their presence wrapped around you, pulling you into a moment you knew had been building for weeks.
"I think… I think we need to talk about this. About us."
Nicholas’ eyes gleamed with a mixture of playfulness and something deeper. His hand lingered on your arm as he glanced over at Cooper. "Yeah, I think it’s about time we do."
Cooper’s fingers brushed softly against your side, his gaze steady but serious. "We’ve been dancing around this for a while, haven’t we?"
You nodded, feeling both of their attention on you, making your pulse race. "It feels like… more than just friendship. With both of you. And I know you’ve felt it too."
Nicholas chuckled softly, his hand slipping to the small of your back as he pulled you just a little closer. "Oh, we’ve felt it. We’ve definitely felt it."
Cooper’s hand tightened on your waist, his tone calm but clear. "But we need to be sure. We need to be on the same page."
You exhaled a shaky breath, glancing between them. "I don’t know exactly what this is yet, but… I want to figure it out. With both of you."
Nicholas’ grin softened, his thumb brushing against the small of your back. "Good. Because I’m all in."
Cooper’s hand slid from your waist to your hand, fingers intertwining with yours. "Me too," he said quietly, his eyes locking with yours, then flicking to Nicholas. "We’re in this together."
Nicholas’ hand slipped up to your jaw, gently turning your face toward his. The grin that was usually playful now softened, his eyes intense as they searched yours. Without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and filled with everything that had gone unsaid between the three of you.
The kiss sent a wave of heat through your body, and for a moment, it was just you and Nicholas, the weight of his hand on your back, the warmth of his lips pulling you deeper into the moment.
When he pulled away, your breath caught, and before you could process the rush of emotions, you felt Cooper’s hand gently guiding your face toward him. His kiss was different — softer, more tentative, but no less charged. His lips moved against yours with a quiet intensity, as if he had been holding back for too long and now couldn’t stop himself.
The contrast between them was intoxicating, Nicholas’ fiery energy and Cooper’s gentle steadiness blending together, both of them focused entirely on you. When Cooper pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours, his breath warm against your skin.
"So," Nicholas murmured, his voice low and teasing, "are we done pretending now?"
You smiled, breathless and caught between them, feeling like the missing pieces had finally clicked into place. "Yeah," you whispered, your heart pounding. "No more pretending."
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bkgml · 11 months ago
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I desperately need a part 2 to the head scratching obsession katsuki has with a few different scenarios preferably MAYBE reader scratches his head w her pretty nails while there hanging out w friends and he’s trying SO HARD not to let them see him fold 😭
OHHHHHHHH YESSSSS
car ride
i’m thinking of u and katsuki sitting in the backseat of a car idk who’s driving maybe it’s a bakusquad road trip and everyone else is asleep
(except kiri who has his eyes locked on the road)
and it’s getting super late but youre still a couple hours from the hotel.
i’m thinking it’s like a van situation and u and kats are in the back back bc kats hates having eyes drilling into the back of his skull.
and you can tell he’s getting super sleepy but he keeps saying he’s fine and he can wait until you’re out of the car.
i’m thinking you’re leaning up against the window with your legs in his lap and his body keeps deflating with tiredness and eventually you just tug at his arm and open yours in invitation.
he huffs but flops down onto your lap anyway but he’s still frowning as if it’s the biggest inconvenience in the world.
until he feels your heavenly nails graze his scalp, sending full body chills through him causing him to nuzzle into you and groan lightly.
it doesn’t take long for him to still, falling into a deep sleep.
and just know he’s going to be annoyed to the max when you get to the hotel. grumbles that you should just sleep in the car.
drunk
you’ve been at the club for 3 hours now, you’re dancing with mina and you look real sexy. if only it wasn’t so late. katsuki is dead tired and is ready to just flop into bed.
“bro take a shot, you look like you’re gonna fall asleep at the table.” kiri advises before downing three shots with denki.
“bullshit.” katsuki murmurs.
“why not bro? you’re not driving.” sero says with a hint of malice in his tone, stuck being the DD for the night.
“whatever. just order more shots.” katsuki groans.
****************************************************
“katsukiiii!” you cheer, skipping over to him giddily.
“that’s not katsuki anymore, yn. thats BIG KB!” denki cheers, earning a groan from mina.
“what is that stupid ass nickname.” she says, rolling her eyes.
taking a closer look at your boyfriend he does seem a little out of it.
“what’s the matter… big kb?” you tease, grinning.
you’re only a little tipsy. mostly high on life of the dance floor but sober enough to think straight.
“had some drinks.” he murmurs, fingers reaching over to rub against your cheek.
you pause, slightly stunned at his words.
“wow.. did you lose a bet kats?” you question, leaning into his touch.
he shakes his head, frowning at you thinking he would ever lose a bet to the idiots.
“nah he was just a sleepy guy, weren’t ya?” denki teases, pinching katsuki’s arm.
katsuki frowns, shrugging denki off.
you giggle leaning closer to katsuki.
“you a little tired, suki?” you whisper to keep the conversation private.
he frowns, offended.
“no? could stay here all night.” he mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.
you make a ‘really?’ face at him.
he scoffs. as if you don’t believe him, ridiculous.
“go back out and dance.” he says, nudging you away softly.
you hesitate, wanting to settle down for the night yourself now.
katsuki’s so cute when he’s drunk, you just want to be at home with him.
“guys we’re actually just gonna uber home right now, but this was super fun.” you say smiling and katsuki frowns deeply.
the four had moved onto another conversation while you talked to katsuki, their attention now turning to you and your boyfriends big frown.
“wow, getting lucky tonight bakugou?” denki grins.
katsuki wraps an arm around you as if to protect you from his words.
“we’re not even going home, shut it.” he grunts.
you turn your head to look at your boyfriend.
“yes we are.” you say gently.
“no.”
“katsuki, yes.” you say firmly.
“no.”
you feel frustration bubble up in your head but push it down in favour of sneaking your arm behind katsuki’s head, fingers dancing on the very back of his neck.
“no. not this shit.” he groans, but doesn’t move away from your touch.
“shhhh, let’s go home big kb.” you whisper into his ear.
your hand toys with the hairs at the back of his neck before snaking up from his neck to the crown of his head, causing chills to spread throughout katsuki.
he groans deeply.
“fine.” he grits out between his teeth, refusing to look down at you.
“ha! did you see that mina?! did you see-“ denki gets cut off at katsuki shoving him off his place on the booth, making denki tumble onto the floor so you and kats can get out.
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cherryredstars · 5 months ago
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Hi cherry!!!!! I’m so glad requests are open again:) I love your work sm!!! Love you
What if domexperienced!miguel was taking virgin!fem from the back?? I’d melt tbh.
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Loss of Virginity
A/N: Thank you, my love!!
Unedited
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Miguel is more than happy to oblige.
It's your virginity, and he is more than pleased to be the one you are so willing to give it to. So when you hang off his arm, so shyly asking him to finally sink into your untouched heat from the back because you want it to feel as good as possible, he nearly spills into his pants. He almost prefers to take you this way. While he can’t see your face, the position makes up for it with flexibility. He can easily manipulate your body, contorting your form perfectly to take him.
You just turn into absolute putty in his hands as he takes you, his large hand pressing between your shoulder blades to keep your chest to the bed as the other keeps your hips up as it rests on your stomach. You clutch cutely onto a pillow, keeping it pinned with your chest as your hands hold onto it for comfort. Miguel takes his time, slowly dragging his leaking cock through your folds, cooing about needing it to get nice and wet before he can slide it into your pulsing hole. He groans when more arousal leaks from your pretty entrance, finally giving you mercy as he presses his tip to your hole.
You cry out so beautifully as your pretty cunt works to fit around him, walls parting slowly as he pushes in. He chuckles when you thrash under him, and he presses harder onto your back to keep you still. The hand on your stomach presses up, lifting your hips so he can adjust you. You keen when he fixes your body, his cock sliding in deeper until he’s all the way to the hilt. He can hear you sniffling from having to stretch so wide to take him, and he coos as he rubs circles into your stomach.
“It’s okay, baby. Hard part’s over.” He promises, leaning forward to kiss the back of your neck.
You gasp as his front is plastered to your back, his cock nudging up into your gummy walls. You moan as you try to grind back into him, and Miguel smiles. His hips move back, and he wastes no time hammering into your tight heat. He hissed as you clench hard around him, milking his cock deeper into you as you cry into your pillow.
“Don’t worry, mi vida. Gonna take real good care of you.”
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osarina · 9 months ago
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ᡣ𐭩 MID DAY NAPS WITH DAZAI!
FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: dazai does not nap. he hardly sleeps in general. so how is it that he's dozing off in your lap like this? you're a witch, he's decided. there's no other logical explanation. (wordcount: 800ish; sfw; fem!reader, mentions of alcohol & sleeping pills)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: very short & sweet but i toldddd you guys that i had a dazai nap time drabble in the works. i love my naps, so that means i obviously have to do nap time with all of the favs. perhaps i'll do jouno next. or maybe there's someone u guys want.
Dazai doesn’t sleep well. He never has, and he’s certain he never will. The only time he can manage to get some semblance of sleep is when he’s taken a few too many sleeping pills or he’s drank himself to oblivion. It’s unfortunate, but it’s a fact of life, and he thinks that he’d prefer to stay sleepless anyway if it means he can avoid the memories that plague his dreams.
Dazai can simply not remember when the last time he willingly slept was, which is why he’s so confused now, head resting in your lap, eyes heavy as he looks up at you. He can hardly hold them open, he can feel himself falling asleep and he’s alarmed because he does not sleep unless his body is drugged, drunk or dying.
“What kind of spell have you placed on me, bella?” Dazai says through a yawn—he yawned???
“What do you mean?” you ask quietly, fingers still carding gently through his hair as you look down at him, brows furrowed. 
He wants to reach up and rub out the wrinkle between your eyebrows but his arm feels too heavy. A part of him wonders if he’s dying, but he supposes if this is how he’s meant to go out—laying in your lap with your fingers brushing through his hair, staring up at your pretty face beneath the afternoon sun—then he couldn’t ask for a better death.
“‘m falling asleep,” he murmurs, and his voice slurs a bit over the words. His eyes feel even heavier, drooping shut as he tilts his head to the side to make himself comfortable on your lap. 
You giggle lightly, and Dazai swears the sound is angelic. “‘cause you’re so sleepy, obviously,” you say, a teasing lilt to your tone as you bring your freehand to his face to trace his cheekbone.
“I don’t sleep,” he protests weakly, leaning into your touch. 
He thinks that before he met you, he might not have ever experienced a gentle touch in his entire life, and now he simply cannot go without them. He craves them at every waking moment and gets severely distressed when he cannot obtain them. But only if they’re from you—the thought of anyone else touching him the way you do makes his skin crawl. Your touches make him feel vulnerable in a way that’s dangerous, and you’re the only person he trusts enough to see him that way.
“Everyone sleeps, silly,” you disagree softly, and Dazai wants to protest, to tell you how significant this is, but he can’t find the words. His mind feels muddled and hazy as exhaustion creeps through his bones and claws at his chest.
He supposes he doesn’t really need to tell you anyway, you probably already know—you always know somehow. You can always figure out when he’s having one of his bad days, no matter how hard he tries to hide it from everyone. You can always tell when he needs a break from everything, even when he tries to mask it with smiles and jokes. You can always tell when he’s sick of playing the role of a clown to make people overlook all of his faults and darkness, and you’re always there to be an escape for him. 
It used to be scary—he’s never had someone that could pick through all of his masks to see through his emotional state, his real one. A part of him wonders if it’s somehow a secret part of your ability but he knows it’s a ridiculous thought, because there’s no explanation for how you can do it whenever he’s laid up in your arms or draped all over you, which is 99% of the time he’s with you.
It used to be scary (emphasis on the past tense) but now, he thinks it might be a bit comforting to know that you’re always there and you know what he needs even when he himself doesn’t know. You’re like a buoy in the middle of a raging sea, a lighthouse shining through the dark. he hasn’t had someone he could genuinely rely on in… a long time, and even then…
Dazai lets out a puff of air, eyes finally sliding shut as he all but melts into you with your hand cupping the side of his face and your thumb caressing his cheek and your nails gently scraping his scalp. He thinks he might be in heaven—he doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve it, to deserve you, but he’s a selfish bastard at heart and he’ll be damned if he ever lets you go. 
The last thing he feels is your lips ghosting his temple before he finally dozes off. He sleeps peacefully for the first time he can remember. 
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umnitsa · 5 months ago
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Dirty old man
Summary: Joel is on his seventies, but he still has needs.
A/N: Ok, so. One pic made the rounds in one of the discord servers I frequent and it made me wild, I won't lie (it was a pic/meme with aged Pedro Pascal). Highly inspired by @toxicanonymity's GILF!Joel (mine is a bit of a perv, but this isn't really a dark fic). It was also inspired by @atticrissfinch's MMITB (I wish I had a fraction of her talent for dirty talk, but I'm not even a native speaker of English, so I do what I can). Now you go read them both, I ASSURE YOU it'll be a good time. Huge thanks for all the people that cheered me on with this: Toxi, @romanarose, @beefrobeefcal, @gwendibleywrites, I love you all. (I must admit that I don't know if I'll ever continue this, honestly, although part of me wants to get to the sex scene. xD)
Pairing: No outbreak old man!Joel x Reader
CW: Joel being bold, dirty talk. That's it <3
No beta, we die like lonely writers xD
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It wasn’t a bad job.
Sarah wanted to hire you to take care of her father, Joel. He wasn’t that old, but years of hard work in construction gave him some mobility issues. Sarah worried he spent too time alone, and that he could fall, get hurt and trapped without help because of his pride (which seemed to be a real possibility, considering Joel didn’t want to lose his independence in any way).
You were supposed to get the night shift, which was nice. The night shift was calm, except when it wasn’t. Sarah assured you she talked to her father, she wanted to introduce you to him, before you started working.
You prepared for war, if the man was as stubborn and grumpy as his daughter described.
Sarah introduced you and the old man looked at you over his glasses.
“You sure this pretty thing can lift me off the floor?” He asked, a crooked smirk stretching his lips. You considered answering him, but he raised his face defiantly and winked.
He was teasing his daughter.
You chuckled, to Joel’s delight. Sarah hired you on the spot.
***
Joel was grumpy most of the time. You could understand. Getting older was specially hard on some people. Losing their independence seemed to be a horrifying blow.
You admired the family pictures displayed on the walls and the bookshelves. They showed a younger Joel, large and proud, wearing tight tshirts that showed his big arms.
He didn’t change much, to be honest. His hair now was completely silver, as his beard. The wrinkles didn’t spoil his roguish smile. He was on his seventies, but looked younger, somehow. You blamed his brown eyes.
***
“You know what I miss most about my youth?” He said softly one day, entering the living room. You were looking at his pictures. He slowly moved by your side and placed a hand over your back, rubbing gentle circles. “All the pussy.”
You turned to him, astonished at his boldness. He smirked, then shrugged. You felt your face getting warm and a different, slick, syrupy warmth pooling on your lower belly. He licked his lips and sighed.
“It was easy to get pussy with those looks.” He pointed at one picture of himself and smiled proudly. “Didn’t fuck as much as I wanted, or as much as I could. Tried to be a good dad. Don’t regret anything, but... Oh boy, I miss it.” He looked you up and down, his smile turning appreciative.
“Thought old pervs like you liked tiny thin teenagers.” You scoffed.
“Only dumbasses want those.” Joel chuckled, his hand sliding lower on your back. “I like them older. Like you. With those eyes, like you know and did everything under the sun.” Joel hums, closing his eyes. “Get them cockdumb and they cry so sweetly… Mmmm, the surprise in their wide eyes...” He licks his lips, watching your reaction. You laugh, trying to hide your own arousal.
“Well, Joel, I think the preference is because they are supposed to be tight.” You said firmly, standing your ground. You refused to look shocked, and you saw no reason to scold him, at least not yet. Maybe it was your pussy talking.
Joel leaned over you slowly; you stayed very still. His warm breath tickled your ear.
“After a certain size, honey, everything feels tight.” He said softly, grabbing his half hard cock through his pants. You looked down and gasped, noticing the girth of his bulge inside his huge hand. Joel stepped back, smiling proudly, and moved into the house, dragging his feet. “Lemme know if you want a ride, sweetheart. Them blue pills are easy to get.” He turned and winked at you.
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milkywaydrabbles · 1 year ago
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Rindou loves fingering you. 
He loves how creamy you get his fingers, how two fingers is enough to throw you over the edge. He loves how he can control your body just how he wants it, how he can edge you over and over again without having to break a sweat, just with his hands. He loves how, if he tries a little harder, he can have you squirting all over him, juicy pussy making a mess, he loves how sloppy he can get you. Haitani Rindou’s a nasty man when it comes to you, he can keep you underneath him forever. Rindou will finger you whenever he can--in his car, out at a club or bar, when he’s on the phone, hell even when you’re on the phone. (He thinks his favorite is whenever you have to keep it together, pretend like he’s not finger fucking you in public.) He loves the sticky feeling of you cumming on his fingers, how you suck them back in, how when he spreads them out your cum creates a webbing between them. He really, really, can’t get enough of it. Sometimes he prefers that over fucking you with his dick. It’s rare, but sometimes, he’ll do it. Just fuck you over and over again on his fingers until he has you crying to stop--and then keep going. 
Tonight, he thinks is one of those nights. 
Rindou’s had you under him already for the last hour, hearing how nasty your cunt is, squelching and creaming around him. You're sniffling, tears streaming down your face as he pulls another orgasm out of you just with his fingers. "Baby, you look so fucking good just like this." He coos, pulling his fingers out with a squish, and laughs. "Love fucking you on my fingers baby, n so fucking juicy" he's talking to himself, enamored with looking between your legs and seeing the mess you've made for him. Rindou is dipping his hand between your thighs again, pushing the same two fingers back into your wet heat and adding a third, and you whine. "R-Rin, so full, fuck." Your face is hot, body covered in a sheen of sweat and all you can do is lay there with your legs open and take it. When he's in one of his moods he won't stop until he gets it out of his system, which means sometimes you end up sweaty and sticky and overstimulated for hours under him. "You can take my fingers, right pretty girl?" And you nod, squirming as he slowly pumps his three fingers into your sloppy cunt, seeing your cum oozing around his hand and pooling in his palm. 
He's hard, painfully so, but he can't seem to care about his own hard on when he's got his little baby crying like that. His free hand wipes away a stray tear, while the other starts fucking into you quicker, curling his fingers up to hit that gummy part of your walls that has you crying even more. "Rin, m'so close, please, please—!" You're begging, pleading with him to let you cum. You think it's too much, especially with each last one he pulls out of you. But he proves you wrong over and over again with each buildup and you crave it each time. It feels like you can't breathe without him letting you catch that high again. Stronger than any drug he could have given you. "Give it to me baby, come on you can do it." He works you through it, hitting exactly where you need it each time he fucks up into you. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, it has you crying and shaking and grabbing at Rindou's arm like some saving grace. Electricity shot through your veins, your nerves on fire as he ripped another orgasm out of you. You babbled away as your juices covered him again, and he could only smile as you shook. "Good girl, such a good girl" he would praise, leaning down while still stuffing your cunt full of him and kissing your face, smothering you in affection to distract you with how overstimulated you're feeling. "My pretty baby is doing so well" Rindou's fingers stilled for a moment, and taking the time to make sure you were cognisant enough to give a real answer when he looked into your eyes and asked: "do you trust me?" You sniffed and nodded, but he simply clicked his tongue. " I need you to answer with words baby. Do you trust me?" It almost concerned you how serious he was being knuckles deep in your pussy, but you answered anyways. "Yes Rindou, I trust you." Your voice was shaky, and hoarse with how much you've been crying, but you trusted him with your life.
Slowly, Rindou added a fourth finger into your abused cunt, and it felt like your lungs were stuffed full of bricks. You choked back a sob, eyes rolling to the back of your head and you bit your lower lip to stop yourself from screaming. It was overwhelming, feeling 4 of his fingers stuffing into your now swollen pussy, curving into themselves to make a point inside of you. Rindou twisted his wrist, hearing the messy sounds coming from your hole, seeing you dripping and oozing onto the mattress below you. He stayed a slow pace, feeling all the small bumps and ridges of your pussy up against his fingers. "It's okay baby, I got you, I got you" he'd whisper, repeating himself over and over while you caught your breath. You never stopped trembling from your last orgasm, teetering on the edge with each lazy thrust Rindou gave. You couldn't speak, broken phrases and words spilling from your mouth as he quickened his pace. Rindou's breathing got heavy, pupils dilated and zeroed in on your cunt sucking in his fingers with each thrust. You were doing so well for him, while he played with you, stretched you out the most he's ever done. He kept whispering so nicely to you, how good you were, how pretty you were with his fingers stuffed inside your sloppy pussy, how much he loved you. Your head was spinning, you were fucked dumb already and Rindou was making it so hard to even think for just a second. "Fuuuck, baby—making such a mess on my fingers, love you so much, you got another one in you right?" You were panting, nodding furiously with your eyes locked onto his. He didn't even need to curl his fingers with how well he was hitting all the right spots—pumping harder in and out and in and out of your mess of a hole, and before you could wrap your head around it you were squirting, covering him in your essence. You heard a laugh, though your eyes were unable to focus at all. "Fuck, baby! So fucking pretty when I got you squirting like that." It sounded like a tease, but you knew he meant it. He told you all the time, he loved how your face would scrunch up during the build up, and letting go with pretty pouty lips making an o shape, tears falling at the corners of your mouth. (He even recorded it once, so you can see how pretty you looked.) 
"I got you baby, it's okay, you can let go." He whispered, closer to your face now than he was just moments before—kissing your forehead as you practically convulsed in his arms. His fingers were pulled out, along with your cum that dripped from his digits. A trembling hand latched on to his shirt, unable to control yourself in this moment and just cried. Giving yourself to him fully was such an intimate experience for you, that you couldn't help but sob in his arms afterwards. He'd hush you with gentle words, smoothing over your hair with his clean hand and kissing your temple. "You did so good for me, pretty girl—I love you." You stutter out that you love him too and latch onto him more.
He’ll take good care of you after that.
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lvndrdaaze · 7 months ago
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Genshin Men - Giving or Receiving?
Part 1 - Mondstadt and Liyue
(includes Albedo, Diluc, Kaeya, Venti, Childe, Kazuha, Xiao, and Zhongli)
(fem!reader, NSFW so no minors!!)
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ALBEDO truly believes your body is the most fascinating experiment he has ever conducted. Delving his tongue into your pussy is his favourite way to spend time when he gets a break from his work, and it shows by how good he is at it. He knows exactly where to flick the tip of his tongue to have your back arching, exactly how hard to suck on your clit to make you clutch at his silky blond locks. He pays rapt attention to every reaction you give, wide blue eyes staring up at you from between your parted thighs, and he can see your orgasm coming before you can even feel it.
"Fascinating…"
DILUC places your feelings above all else, and so as much as he adores the feeling of your lips wrapped around his cock, he prefers to bury himself between your thighs. At the end of a long day, he'll spend hours bringing you orgasm after orgasm with nothing but his mouth. His tongue moves with deliberate purpose through your folds, lapping and sucking as though every action is second nature to him. Every mewl and whimper you let out fill his chest with pride, and his strong, calloused hands hold your hips down against the mattress firmly until he's satisfied that you're satisfied.
"Just relax, love. Allow me to take care of you."
KAEYA loves the incredible sense of power he gets from receiving from you. The sight of you on your knees, tongue hanging out of your spit slick lips has him throbbing in his own hand whilst he teases you, and the way you wait so patiently, so obediently, for him to give you his cock brings a smug smirk to his face. With a hand on your cheek, he guides the tip of his cock into your mouth, tapping it lightly against your waiting tongue and breathing out a chuckle at how quickly you wrap your lips around him, his knees almost buckling as you swirl your tongue around the swollen head.
"My my, I had no idea you were so eager, sweetheart. Go on then, show me how badly you want this."
VENTI has no real preference; no matter whether he's sloppily eating you out or has his cock deep in your throat, he's ecstatic. Everything Venti does, he does with the utmost enthusiasm, and oral is no different. When giving, he's a messy eater, moaning and drooling all over your twitching heat, and he won't stop until he's satisfied. When receiving, he's very vocal about his pleasure, trembling and thrusting into your mouth desperately as unbelievably loud whines pour from his lips like the finest song he's ever written.
"Hah, windblume, s-so good…"
CHILDE will never turn down the opportunity to have you on your knees for him, and in his opinion, there's no bad place to do it. In the privacy of either of your bedrooms, in his office at the Northland Bank, even in an alleyway on the way back from Liyue market, he's always eager to feel your wet throat constrict around his length. He puts no effort into the experience, however, not even guiding you onto his length with a hand in your hair. He just leans back and watches your bobbing head and teary eyes with a predatory grin on his face, feeling the heat bubbling within him with every drag of your tongue against the underside of his cock.
"Don't stop, princess. I want you to swallow everything I give you, got it?"
KAZUHA is an impossibly selfless lover. He'll almost never allow you to go down on him, and certainly not without returning the favour. He has an encyclopaedic knowledge of every inch of your skin, of every spot that makes you whimper and cry out for him, and he uses the knowledge to bring you to a world shattering orgasm every single time. The sounds you make are his favourite melody, and he'll have you singing for him whenever he gets an opportunity to have you in private.
"So sweet, love…I adore the way you sound."
XIAO has been obsessed with your mouth since the first time he felt it, warm and blissful around the tip of his cock, like a perfect slice of Celestia made just for him. He insists he doesn't deserve it, but when you sink so willingly to your knees before him, he can't bring himself to turn you away. His fists clench tight by his sides and his eyes slip closed at the feeling of your tongue on his aching tip, gently lapping up his essence to ease him into the sensation, then your lips wrap fully around him and he almost loses himself to the feeling, his hips twitching forward with moans muffled by his own hand as you take all of him in.
"I've, hnng, never felt anything so…perfect."
ZHONGLI may not be an Archon anymore, but he still loves to be worshipped by you. You look so sweet, kneeling between his parted legs with your fingers wrapped tentatively around his cock before you take him into your mouth. Sometimes he'll use his hand on the back of your head to guide your movements, and sometimes he'll just sit back and enjoy your show of devotion to him. He's so big, you can't possibly take all of it into your throat, but that never spoils it for him. After all, even the most resilient of beings couldn't resist the opportunity to watch an adorable thing like you eagerly gagging on his cock.
"That's it, my sweet thing. Just a little more…"
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yeyinde · 5 days ago
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i would give you my life for marriage counselor!reader x price part 3, pleaseeee im begging you 😮‍💨🙏😮‍💨🙏
He fucks you in your office, for sure.
18+. extremely dubious consent. unk. condescending Dom!Price.
Petty, combative. Authority figures make him itch. But there's a sick thrill that goes through him when he sinks down into your chair, fully dressed with just his trousers undone, cock freed, and pulls you, completely naked, onto his lap. Makes you ride him as he sprawls out over it, too; his hand tight around your neck to keep you up, the other dangling over the edge, drinking from the sneaky stash of booze he finds after rummaging around your desk (all the while, he had you sitting on top of it, one hand rifling through your belongings and the other buried between your thighs, making you answer his inane questions as he tuts about how you're getting his cuffs all wet, not such a smart little girl now are you? soakin' his hand like that. needy little thing, more like.)
It's not his preferred position, but he likes the sight of you glaring down at him as he fills you with his cock. Unable to to do anything at all even when you're on top, in the dominant role. Reduced to a mess of a once smart, haughty girl. Biting your lip as he bucks into you. Trying to smother the scream, the plea—slow down, slow down, please, it's too deep—that trembles on your lip. Pride and this fickle, paperthin ideal of agency is the only thing keeping it all in.
You think you can take him. Handle him.
So, John gives you the reigns and leans back on your smart little chair in your smart little office. Accolades hung on the wall. Polished and mature. It's all so—
Adorable.
The contrast of it all feeds the monster in his chest that's been prowling around ever since you tried to boss him around. The mouth that once said you're not trying hard enough, Mr Price you need to do better now all slack-jawed and drool slick as he spears inside to the deepest part of you he can reach; the doleful glare swallowed by the shiver of your lids as your eyes roll back into your pretty little head.
Struggling to take him. Hesitating to slide down the thickest part of his cock, whimpering when he shifts his hips and makes you take him down to the root. Tears flood your lashline, gleaming iridescent like sunshine hitting an oil spill. Lips trembling as you jolt at the realness of it all—of trying to handle him like you said you could but quickly realising you can't when the heart of yourself starts to feel like a raw, open wound.
Yeah, he thinks, and brings the bottle to his lips. You look so much better just like this.
And that's what it's about, really. Control. Something you stripped him of when he marched into your office and you—younger, less experienced, less established—just looked at him, and said, sit down right there, Mr Price.
Well. You didn't say it, did you? No, you commanded. And Price doesn't take orders from idiots in office who think they're his superior, so why the hell should he listen to you, mm?
But he did. And now he's savouring it because this is quid pro quo. Something for something. His compliance (ephemeral as it was) for you.
Because the problem is that you riled him up. With your neat, clean office. Your smart suits. The unbidden air of authority—this condescending, sophisticated cloud that clung to the haughty tip of your chin when you talked to him. It all itched under his skin. Made his heart thunder with the urge to break—
(Claim, maim—sometimes he gets the two mixed up, the word eliding together under the malformed snarl in his throat. But you're tough, aren't you? He's sure you can handle whichever one ends up spilling out.)
He bites down on the little sliver of skin beneath your jaw—that small patch where his hand, still spread over the thick of your throat, doesn't cover—and groans, feeling you clench tight around him. Tight little hole barely stretched enough to take him without it aching each time he moves, tugging on thin, sensitive skin until he has to snuff the whimpers he can feel crawling up your throat with a squeeze of his hand.
It has the after making his head swim already. When he finally finished getting his due, breaking you in, he'll take you home. Let you rest. Court you good and proper until you're melting his hands, softened wax for him to play with and mould however he likes. And he will.
He saw the potential in you the moment he leaned in close—too close, his ex-wife will accuse him of later; you never get that close to me anymore, John—and saw the shift of your throat when you swallowed. The flex of your thighs as you squeezed them tight together. The little flutter of your lashes, eyes listing treacherously downward, so achingly close to submission that it punched the air from his lungs. Kept him winded even as you pulled yourself back together. Meeting his stare with a glare of your own. All fire, all teeth. But he'll enjoy filing your canines down until they're pretty and soft and round—
"mm, not so arrogant now, are you?" He pulls you closer, nips at the thrill of your pulse until he feels it thudding against his enamel. Rabbit-quick. Ferocious lioness purring at his feet. "S'all you needed was my cock, mm, to make you this sweet?"
He doesn't expect an answer, and can really only groan when you eke out a liquid, breathless, fuck you, John, content to let you lash out as much as you want, holding you tighter in the cup of his palm. Pussy clenching tight, tears dripping down your cheeks—he basks in it even as you claw at him, pawing at his chest with your teeth bared as you pretend this is your choice. That you're taking from him with each unsteady, furious roll of your hips. Pulling him in deeper. Letting the part inside of you that rages against this hew fantasy into reality; cobwebs of delusion thickening in the whites of your eyes as you shatter over him, on his lap, stuffed full with the thick of his cock, and play pretend in your head that he's just your throne—
Even as he kicks his heels against the legs of your own, planting his feet on your carpet, in this space you build yourself, driving inside of you until the webs shake, starting to come loose.
You—this free, willful bird—have been left in the wild for too long. And he'll spend the next two months building your cage, and when he's finally finished, you'll beg him to throw away the key.
"Told you, didn't I?" he growls, hand tightening around your throat. "You were in over your head, little girl. You should have listened."
(Freshly divorced—ink still wet on the paper—and he's already engaged. How about that.)
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fixyourwritinghabits · 7 months ago
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How to Handle Critique
I’ve got to admit, I wish I was one of those beatific saints that could take critique with a grateful smile. Instead, I am constantly suppressing a horrible little gremlin at the back of my head hissing at anything from legit plot critiques to grammar corrections. I’m well aware I used that comma wrong, GOD.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m very good at suppressing that gremlin, but the little bastard is still there. He exists because even though your brain knows critique can help, it also knows you worked damn hard on the thing being critiqued, and goddamnit, isn’t that enough???
Anyway, here are some tips on getting that gremlin to shut the hell up.
It is okay to be upset. You worked really hard on this thing, and now someone’s gone and pointed out all the things that suck about it. You cannot control how you feel about one thing or another, but you can allow yourself to feel that way and let it pass through you. Let your critique partner you’re taking time to reflect on it, and go for a walk. Do something else. Let those feelings pass through you before you get back to the page.
Give yourself time. Don’t feel like you need to correct things right away (unless they are minimal grammar tweaks). Some pieces of feedback might take awhile to sink in, especially when you’ve got a whole novel to wrestle through. Set it aside, think about something else for a week or so, and get back to it when you’ve reset.
Get a second opinion and/or ducky friend. It can be very hard to tell the difference between good and bad feedback sometimes. Someone who means very well could give feedback that just doesn’t work for you, and someone who doesn’t give two shits could have spotted that fatal flaw right away. You can bring in a real third party or just make use of the old rubber duck technique, where you talk through the issue with a friend or a Naruto poster telling you to Believe it. Working it out out-loud is a really effective technique to figure out what needs fixing and what doesn’t.
Guide critique-givers toward the feedback you want. I, a person who prefers straightforward fantasy and sci-fi, cannot give the fine-tooth points on how a romance novel should work. However, I can give feedback on what works for me and what doesn’t story-wise. Giving your beta reader or critique partner a list of questions to look for will help avoid vague feedback based on how they don’t like the genre. There are many ways to do this, but consider using the following as a base to tailor your own questions:
Did you get a good sense of the setting? Did the worldbuilding make sense to you?
Was this story clear? Where there any parts that seemed confusing?
What characters did you like and why? What characters didn’t you like?
Did any parts of the story feel slow or repetitive?
Did the beginning draw you in? Did the middle keep you engaged? Did the ending feel satisfying?
If you were to write [insert plot point here], what would you do differently?
Again, all of the above questions are up for debate depending on your goal, but we are rarely taught how to give good feedback, and a guided feedback session would work better for you than a free-for-all.
Figure out what kind of advice doesn’t work for you. It is really hard to give good feedback sometimes, even with guided questions. It can also be really hard to figure out why some feedback doesn’t click with you, and that’s a matter of digging deep to figure out what you really want. You may lean toward characters who are horrible fuck-ups, but your partner prefers more steady characters who always strive to do the right thing. Your characters, therefore, may never click with this person, no matter how much they want to help you. And that’s okay! Figuring out where your critique partner is coming from can help you figure out what parts of their feedback isn’t working for you. Sometimes the only thing you can do is thank them and move on, but you might also want to guide them to focus more on the plot or the worldbuilding when looking at your work.
And last, don’t focus on grammar. It’s great if they point that out, but if you end up changing everything, trying to fix that first is a waste of your time. Grammar tweaks last, plot points first.
And, I dunno, give yourself a treat to get that horrible little mind gremlin something else to focus on. Sometimes patting those bad feelings on the head and sending them away can help way more than ignoring them.
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girlboypersonthingy · 7 months ago
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i’ve never really asked before but i just read all of your sally face stuff and BFBSVAVAX so i was thinking….
(preferably afab) reader coming home tired and needy, walking in sal and their shared room sighing as they rip off their work shirt and stare at sal who’s practicing a new song. waiting for him to put his guitar aside they fall dramatically into his lap and start COVERING his mask in kisses, stopping suddenly to ask for a real kiss:3
just some fluffy stuff pls it’s been a LONGGGG few weeks:D
A D O R A B L E ! ! ! This week has def been a ‘I want to come home to Sal and collapse in his arms’ type of week for me like oof 😔…I’m sorry this took me a while to get to, I hope you’re alright. Hopefully you’re doing better by now and if not, plz feel free to message me and we can chat 🖤 thanks for requesting and enjoy!
Notes: fem!reader, this is really fucking silly I’m so sorry…
TW: a bit suggestive, lots of swearing, making out, spit/drool, boobs lol 18+ only!!!
Sal x reader- Hard Day 🌙
(Imagine Sal practicing this song while you read this 🖤)
“Fuuuuuuckkkk…” You groan loudly as you drag your feet through the doorway of the house, stomping loudly on each step of the stairs. As you near the door way of your bedroom, you see the light is on, the music is loud and you can hear Sal playing his guitar along to it, occasionally hitting the wrong note. As you step across the threshold of the room, you let loose a big breath of air as you slouch over a bit, catching Sal’s attention for a moment.
“Hey babe!” He shouts over the music while continuing with his playing. He was sat up on the corner of the bed, guitar in his lap, slouched over with his prosthetic still on. You couldn’t help but watch his fingers on the strings for a moment, black painted nails moving oh so smooth but still making little mistakes. “Hi…I’m so tired.” You say but it falls on deaf ears. Sal is just so close to nailing this one part of the song, he’s been trying for two and half hours now and he’s too close to quit.
Disappointed and a bit annoyed, you quickly shed your shirt and continue giving Sal a cranky but needy glare, only covered by a bra up top. “Sal!!!” You finally shout, making Sal look up, making his hands freeze for a moment. He quickly leans over to turn the music off, his blue hair swaying over his shoulders as he moves. “I’m sorry…uh hey…babe. You okay?” Just by the tone of his voice, the way he’s hesitating and stopping to lick his dry lips under his mask, you can tell he’s equally flustered and excited by your lack of clothes.
“No…I’m not…” You pout for a moment, sighing as you rub your aching temples. He sets his guitar aside and puts one hand out towards you, offering it as a comforting gesture. You gladly accept, grabbing his hand then quickly approaching him and sitting in his lap. “This week…was the fucking worst!” You cry out dramatically, turning to the side so he can hold you bridal style. “I just wanna stay home with you all day, every day.” Sal chuckles softly, one arm tucked up under your knees, the other cradling your back while his hand ruffles the hair on the nape of your neck. “Me too, babe. Me too…” He replies before he gently nuzzles his prosthetic up against your face, making kissy noises under it.
After enough of his cuddly kisses, you decided to return the favor, covering his mask in kisses. You pepper kisses everywhere, all over his prosthetic very quick and soft. Until finally, you pause and place a long kiss on the lips of his prosthetic, humming as a smile grows on your lips. “You know what would really make me feel better…?” You really drag out the words, using your best flirty voice as your finger traces the side of his mask. “What?” He quickly clears his throat, your faces only inches apart. His rapid breathing echos inside his prosthetic as his hand slides up to fully cradle your head.
“Kiss me for real…please?” Your flirty tone turns to a very soft, comforting type of tone, smiling up at him as you watch him blink down at you. There’s a pause, he hesitates for a moment before gulping nervously. Although you’ve seen his face many times before, mouth to mouth kisses were hard to come by with Sal. With a shaky hand, he grabs your own hand and guides it to the back of his head, gesturing for you to unclip his prosthetic for him. He was far too nervous to do it himself, he figured he’d let you set the pace.
To his surprise, you’re pretty quick with the buckles and the mask falls into your lap within seconds. Immediately, your lips meet, Sal uses that hand on the back of your head to push you into him further. As your arms snake around his neck, hugging him close to your nearly bare chest, his other hand is gently kneading your hip as you move your lips against his. The kiss began to rapidly pick up pace, his tongue occasionally licking along your bottom lip.
It was always a delightful shock when your lips or tongue would meet his teeth accidentally where they peek through his cheek and the corner of his mouth, now was no exception. Any time this happens, Sal usually shies away and assumes it grosses you out, especially when he knows he’s probably drooling. Expecting this would happen, you move one hand to the back of his head, matching the grasp he has on you to keep him engaged in the kiss.
A low moan comes from him as he deepens the kiss along with you, tilting his head and running his tongue along your own. Suddenly, clumsily, Sal grabs ahold of your legs and slowly lays back on the bed, pulling you along with him, trying to keep his lips on yours. He fails at this, your lips parting for a moment, him awkwardly shifting under you until he pulls you up closer to his bright red and slightly sweaty face. You can’t help but laugh, not at him, he’s just too cute when he gets like this,
A chuckle rumbles from his chest as he holds you closer, squeezing you tightly against him as he places a final kiss on your nose. “Are you feeling better?” He quickly leans back in for a few more tender lip kisses, smiling brightly as he pulls back. “Yes, sooooo much better. You know what would really make me happy though, Sally?” Your hands run slowly through his long, blue hair as he hums in response. “Hm?”
“Let’s do all of that again…but in a nice hot shower~”
Cue Sal getting a gruesome bloody nose as he glances down at your barely covered chest and thinks about having a shower with you. 🥴🖤
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mediumgayitalian · 8 months ago
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Will knows who it is at the first light brush on his shoulders.
He tips his head back back, bumping his boyfriend’s hip, leaning into the hand on his trapezius, his scapula, the base of his neck.
“Hi,” he says, grinning.
“Hi,” Nico says, leaning down to press his smile onto Will’s forehead. His hair tickles his cheeks, and he smells like woodsmoke and citrus, and Will slides his hand across his jaw and tugs him closer.
“Errand done?”
“Yep.”
“Lord Hades pleased?”
“As much as he ever is.” Nico shifts, kissing the corner of his mouth, the curve of his chin, the shape of his jaw. “My ears are ringing from five days of quiet. Even the echoing sound of lost souls cannot compete with your constant blabbing; I hardly knew what to do with myself.”
“Oh, shut up. You love my chatterin’.” He smacks the side of Nico’s head, but it’s hard to play mad when he’s smiling, shameless, wide enough that his teeth nick Will’s cheekbones, that his snickers are muffled into his skin.
“If I wanted to be stuck with someone who yaps nonstop I would’ve stayed down with Cerebus. In fact he might shed less, and he doesn’t drool when he sleeps.”
“…I do not shed.”
Nico plants both hands next to Will’s head, heaving himself up, and scans his camp shirt. Within three seconds, he locates a strand of hair, pinches it off, and flicks it at Will’s face.
“Uh-huh.”
“Oh, for the love of — get over here,” Will demands. Laughing, Nico goes where Will tugs him, curling up next to him on the bench. “You’re such a shit. Normal people are much kinder to the significant annoyances they leave behind for five days, you know.”
“Are they.”
Nico lifts his arm in offering and Will accepts with relish, tucking himself under it and making certain to drag his curls down Nico’s face in the process.
“Yep. In fact I was expecting hand-written letters by day two, honestly, telling me how much you missed me and how the distance was physically painful, et cetera, et cetera. Maybe a sonnet or two. Italian, preferably, Elizabethan are not my favourite.”
“You’re very picky.”
Will sniffs haughtily. “Well, I’m a catch. You have lots of competition, you know. I was fighting them off while you were away but now that you come back and insult me upon reunion, I shall reevaluate my options.”
He feels more than hears the quiet laughter Nico presses in his hair, thumb brushing his collar, dipping onto bare skin.
“Is that so.”
“Indeed. My suitors have even offered a dowry quite handsome. I’m worth twenty-seven goats, didn’t you know.”
“Oh, well then. I might as well return what I brought for you, since I’m not sure I can outshine two dozen goats.”
The cool thing about being a son of Apollo is that Will has range. His dad is the god of arts, generally, up to and especially the dramatic ones. Will knows how to school his face into the perfect mask, how to smile on command and cry as desired, how to deliver a line and bow with a flourish. Playing a part comes as naturally as breathing, as naturally as healing.
“A present?” he asks, checking his nails as if the mere thought bores him. “That’s interesting, I guess.”
Nico doesn’t even bother to indulge him.
“Here, you massive dweeb,” he snorts. He hands over a small paper box, hand-folded and thin. “I can practically feel you vibrating.”
There is only one thing in this world, quite possibly, that Will likes more than proving Nico wrong, and that is letting his boyfriend spoil him. In all honesty it’s a real challenge sometimes, because Nico is really very good at being everything Will has ever wanted even if he has wrong opinions on most movies. Truly Will’s life is a joke at which the gods must howl with laughter.
Eagerly taking the box, he holds it up to his face, carefully inspecting every corner. The paper is regular printer paper, slightly waterlogged (from the Big House printer, then, ‘cause Will was carrying a giant bag of saline in from storage when he was eleven years old and tripped on the shipment of office supplies that someone had left, for some reason, in the middle of the fucking hallway, and the bag had exploded on impact all over four boxes of printer paper holding one thousand pages each) and carefully bent into shape. He recognises Nico’s handiwork from the dozens of origami paper sculptures he’s been gifted over the past few months.
“Open it.”
“What is it?”
Nico rolls his eyes. “What did I just say.”
“No, I mean — it’s not my birthday or anything.”
“So?”
“So you’ve wrapped me up a present! I want to know why before I open it.”
“Just because,” Nico mumbles, pressing a kiss to his temples. “Not everything needs a reason, nosey.”
“If nothing had reason then we would still be premordial soup,” Will mutters, but pops open the lid anyway.
He gasps.
“Oh my gods, Nico, you —”
Nico’s smiling smugly, but Will barely notices. Inside the box is a black chain darker than shadow, so dark it doesn’t even glint in the heavy sun, and dozens of little charms, from polished obsidian to a ball of slowly flickering flame.
“You like?”
“It’s gorgeous!”
He makes a triumphant nose, pumping his fist, and says, “Fuck those suitors, I fucking win,” and the funniest part is that he’s damn serious. There’s a glint in his eye identical to when he wins a sword fight, to when Connor loses a bet to him, to when twenty-odd bets are stacked against him and he’s got a full house. Something dangerous and wild and superior and Will is not an enabler, okay, he is not, but he is only so strong and there is only so much he can do when pretty boys wrap their arms around him and smirk at him and bring him bracelets they made in the Underworld. He’d like to meet someone who wouldn’t fold, actually.
“There were no suitors, you loser,” he says, but he’s flushed, pleased smile stretched wide across his face, and Nico’s grinning that too-wide grin and tilting Will’s face closer with the edge of his thumb, like he barely had to try. And there’s always a little bit of shadow leeching off him when he comes back from a quest, an aura surrounding him like he’s squaring off to the sun, and of course the wild churning in Will’s stomach has nothing to do with that but what’s he to do, really? What is a warm-blooded person with eyes that can see to do when faced with such a look?
“Of course there aren’t. They know I would reap their actual souls.”
“Possessive, much.”
“You’re literally going red.”
“Shut up.”
And he does, but only because Will makes him.
Although judging by the hand he shoves in his hair, he doesn’t seem to mind.
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jiniret-writings · 1 year ago
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Warm Blankets Pt. 3
Genre: angst, fluff
Pairing: Platonic!skz x 9th member!Reader
Warnings: strong language, self-doubt, arguing, feelings of unworthiness (If I missed any warnings, please let me know)
The actions of the members in this story do not represent how they are in real life. This is all fictional and should not be taken seriously.
Pt. 1 || Pt. 2 || Pt. 3
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Earlier That Day
Tensions were high. With comeback so close and so many concerts and events to prepare for, Stray Kids barely had any time to rest. Your days were filled with practices, recordings, and even more practices. Four hours of sleep was your new standard, and even that seemed like a blessing sometimes. That morning was no different. You had woken up at 6am for an early vocal lesson, wanting to do something in your area of comfort before going for your practice with Chan.
You had been given a duo part with the Chan: something you had never done before. It wasn't that you weren't comfortable dancing with Chan. It's just that you never had a solo dance, always preferring to stay in the back for dance breaks. Vocals were your strong suit and you were more than happy being mostly heard and somewhat seen. When you were given the duo part, you were shocked. Seeing your expression, he just smiled at you and patted your head. "You can do it. I know you can," he said. You felt proud that he believed in you enough to give a part like that to you, so you practiced as much as you could, focusing on not just the moves, but making sure they were as perfect as they could be.
For the past few days, you had reached a place where you could be quite proud, but that morning something felt off. You went to your vocal lesson feeling nervous and tense. Your coach noticed and walked you through exercises to expel some of the tension, but you still harbored a feeling of unease. Still, you shook it off and walked to the dance studio. In the end, what mattered was how well you'd be able to dance and follow through on the moves. The choreo this comeback was more intense, but you were also more determined.
The choreo you had with Chan was short, but detailed. And that was where you were having trouble. You weren't a bad dancer, but it didn't come as easily to you as it did for others. It took time for you to really nail some parts. And that day, no one had the patience.
"No, you need to move them together, y/n. Together," Chan stressed, moving his arms and legs together in formation. You huffed in frustration, tired of running this same part over and over. Still, you listened and replicated what Chan did in what you thought was the right way, but he just sighed heavily in frustration, covering his face with his hands and shaking his head.
"I don't get it, okay? Maybe we just stop for today," you groaned, leaning against the wall. Chan just glared at you from where he was sitting on the couch.
"We can't just stop, y/n. You should've had this perfected two days ago."
"Well I don't, and clearly it's not happening now. Maybe if I take a break-"
"We don't HAVE time for breaks!" he yelled, suddenly getting loud. You gawked at him, surprised by the sudden outburst. You clenched your teeth, not wanting to yell back.
"Yes, we do. At least I do. Hyunjin has the practice room reserved after us. I can just ask him to--"
"He has his own practice! He can't babysit-"
"Babysit!?!" You couldn't hold it anymore. You got off your spot on the wall, going to stand closer to Chan. "I am not some CHILD that needs to be watched or whose hand needs to be held!"
"You're sure about that? You can barely extend a leg-"
"I'm trying to--"
"You're not trying hard enough."
"Bullshit! You're just looking for things to criticize about me!" you yelled, having had enough. You were tired and frustrated. You muscles hurt. Your brain hurt, and Chan nitpicking every muscles movement was not helping in any way.
"It's not like I have to look too hard, yeah? You're floundering around!"
"What's THAT supposed to mean?" you asked, taking a deep breathe and closing your eyes, calming yourself.
"YOU-"
"No"
"-IMPOSSIBLE TO-"
"Chan, we are-"
"-AND HOW CAN YOU-"
"THIS ISN'T GETTING US-"
"IF I KNEW YOU'D ACT LIKE THIS, I WOULDN'T HAVE FOUGHT FOR YOU TO BE IN THE GROUP!"
--a breathe--a hand on your arm--and silence
At the Studio with 3RACHA
Thanks to Hyunjin's text, Han and Changbin knew it was a no nonsense type of day. They both arrived at the studio early, having brought some snacks and drinks to get them through. They made sure to bring every essential they would need to make sure they had everything they would need and wouldn't need to take unnecessary pauses for anything. Han even brought heat packs and a blanket in case it got too cold.
The studio was tense. Chan was much more quiet during the session, only nodding or shaking his head for the most part. The track was complex. It was a ballad, but there were tons of small audio elements that helped it give off that "mala-taste genre" feel. Still, he wasn't satisfied.
Han and Changbin each took turns messing around with their soundboards and looking through their libraries, adding and taking away elements that were either too much or not enough. They even set up the mic so they could make more practical sounds, hitting couch cushions together or unlacing their shoelaces to get sounds that were unique and possibly get the sound-bites.
Chan was huffing more than usual, and as they separated to write lyrics, Han started texting Changbin:
Han: Channie-hyung sounds like a dragon Changbin: Don't you dare tell him that Han: I know! Just, do you know who he fought with? Changbin: I called Hyunjin and said it was y/n. Han: NO Changbin: Yeah, they're at the cuties dorm now Han: I wanna be at the cuties dorm Changbin: Han Jisung Han: yeah yeah I HEAR HIMJDBCJ Han: Nvm, false alarm ;)
When Chan walked into the hallway, he started pacing. Nothing was coming easy to him. Everything sounded wrong, looked wrong, felt wrong. His skin was itching and his hair felt so heavy he wanted to shave it off. He started pulling at his clothes lightly, trying to find a way to release this aching discomfort he felt in his abdomen.
And the fight
He didn't know why or how he could've said those words to you. With every step, he replayed that last moment over in his head: the words leaving his mouth, the way your face morphed to shock, Hyunjin pulling you away, your eyes filled with tears...
He had never seen that look on your face. It was betrayal. Pure, complete betrayal.
He remembers the first time he met you. You had entered the company just the day before, hope shining in your eyes. He had been a trainee for five years at that point. He knew the routine: new trainee's came in with hope, they practiced with all they had, and the with each passing month and each passing evaluation, the hoe drained. Each comment from staff or the teachers or even from the other trainee's left them tired. And in the end it either became too much and they left, or they debuted. And then the trials really began.
But you were a fighter. He met you on your second day at the company and you were filled wit so much excitement. You were in a group vocal lesson and your voice was far from mature. You needed work and the vocal coach did not hold back on their criticisms of you. But instead of letting it get to you, you pushed. You listened to the feedback nestled between their biting words and you implemented it. It had been a while since Chan saw that specific vocal coach nod their head in approval at someone they so brutally tore down only an hour ago.
You could've had a big head. Chan knew when he talked to you that you could have an ego the size Jupiter, but instead he was met with someone so incredibly sweet and such a joy to be around. You two had lunch together that day, and from then on, Chan knew he'd fight for you.
He couldn't have thought that he'd fight you like he did today. Sure, you've had your smaller arguments and your disagreements here and there, but it never got to the point where any of you said anything terribly hurtful. You loved each other, you were family. But the look in your eyes when he said the words that he knew would hurt you the most? His chest squeezed so tight he almost forgot how to breathe.
Chan shook his head, walking back to the studio with a bottle of cold water from the vending machine. He knew he needed to apologize, but he didn't know how. When he walked back in the studio, Han and Changbin looked at him with soft eyes. He could've cried.
He sat down and stared at his laptop. Next to him, Han and Changbin shared a look. They couldn't just sit and let this stew on any longer. Changbin had filled Han in on everything that happened, and they knew the sooner they addressed this, the better for everyone.
"Hyung," Han started, closing his laptop and leaning forward. Chan glanced up at him before looking back at his work.
"Yeah?" he answered, much softer then anyone expected. He was still looking down, but his hands had stilled.
"There's so much pressure on us to do well and there's so many deadlines to meet..." He paused, looking at Changbin, who got the hint.
"You snapped at y/n, and that was a dick move."
Chan's head snapped straight up at that. Changbin took that as a good sign and kept going.
"You need to apologize. And soon," he said, getting straight to the point. Chan just looked at him shocked, unable to get any words out. He knew he had to apologize, but did you even want to see him? Wasn't it too soon? Changbin and Han looked at him expectantly, wanting him to say something. Anything.
"I," he cleared his throat, rubbing a hand along his face. "I want to, but..." he stopped. But what? But they might not want to see me. But they might need some time alone. But they might want to take a break from everything but they might want to leave the group but they might want to disappear. Chan's thoughts fed him every scenario and conversation that might happen.
Finally, he looked down at his hands. "But they're with Hyunjin now, and probably with some others, and they might want time to cool off before seeing me," he said finally. He knew Hyunjin wouldn't leave you alone, so at least he knew you had someone with you.
"You don't have to talk to them now. Just apologize. And let them curse you out, it might make them feel better," Han said, giving Chan a small smile.
"Let them know you're here. And that you're sorry and didn't mean anything you said. You didn't mean it, right?"
"Of course I didn't mean it," Chan said. It was the one thing he was sure of all day. It didn't hit him immediately. But when he was watching you and Hyunjin walk away, it was like the words kept repeating in his head, mocking him.
If I knew you'd act like this, I wouldn't have fought for you to be in the group!
He shook his head, and he felt two hands on his back. Han and Changbin had moved right next to him and were looking at him with understanding and care. I don't deserve them, he thought. He laid his head on the table for a few seconds and took some deep breathes. He deserved to be punched and yelled at and told to go fuck himself, but instead he had two of his members comforting him.
"You can wait until tonight. The others are with y/n/n now. But you should apologize before they go to sleep," Changbin said softly. Chan nodded and smiled at the two. They patting his back and went to go sit down. He'd fix this. He had to.
At The Cuties Dorm
When you fell asleep on Felix's shoulder, he gently stroked your cheek with his finger, wiping away the faint tracks your tears left behind. You nuzzled into his finger and clutched onto his arm tighter. Cute he thought.
Minho and Hyunjin walked back to you all and, seeing your sleeping figure, lowered the volume of the TV and looked at your bedroom door. Looking at Felix, he just nodded and moved aside so Minho could pick you up and move you to your room. Felix went to your shared bathroom and took all of your skincare products to your room, setting on your bedside table.
"Besties don't let each other sleep with makeup on," he said quietly, balancing everything in his arms. It was something you would say whenever you all got back from a late-night schedule. You never let him go to bed with his makeup on. So if he was too tired to take it off, you'd finish your skincare routine before going to Felix and doing his. And so you two had a routine: if one was too tired to take their makeup off, the other would do it for them.
When Minho tried to lay you on your bed, you refused to let him go. Your arms stayed clutched around his neck, and your face nuzzled deeper into his chest.
"Okay," he whispered, crouching down to try and place you on the bed again. "I'll get in with you, okay? But I need to put you down first." He kept his voice low, not wanting to wake you any more than you already were. You groaned lightly but your grip loosened. As soon as you were on the bed, he got in next to you. He put arm around your head and you hummed in contentment.
As soon as Felix set everything down, he turned on the little bedside lamp and got to work, getting rid of any makeup still left. They thought you were still awake but that train of thought was interrupted by a small snore. Minho and Felix looked at each other and laughed quietly.
"Long day," Felix said. Minho nodded, just patting your hair and keeping it out of your face. Minho knew about the hate comments you were getting and how much they were actually bothering you. He walked in on you crying in a practice room and your phone had been open next to you. You put up a strong front in front of everyone, but it hurt.
Ever since, when things got bad, you would hand him your phone. It was a silent message: I need a break, I'll be practicing all day. And he'd just nod, give you a hug, and let you go. This time, a small hug wouldn't do. Comments from random strangers on the internet hurt, but comments from the inside burn.
He looked down at you now, peaceful expression on your face, and sighed. He knew Chan would come to apologize and that it would hurt again, but to heal a burn you have to let it sting first.
Almost like the very thought of him summoned him, the doorbell rang. Minho looked at you again, not wanting to let go. But he gently moved his arm from under your head, gave you a small kiss on your head, and went to the kitchen where he saw Chan standing in front of everyone.
Han and Changbin came with him. Minho couldn't see his face, but the grip Changbin had around Felix's shoulders seemed like he was trying to hold the younger member back. His suspicions were confirmed when he came closer and took one look at his face.
"y/n/n is asleep," Seungmin said, leaning against the counter. He didn't look mad, just tired. In fact, they all did (except Felix who was never able to hide his malice). It had been a long...this pressure had been building for too long.
Chan looked at your bedroom door, left slightly open by Minho. All the determination he had on the walk over had left him. All the anger and stress was gone and replaced with intense regret. "Can I?" he asked, nodding towards the door. Jeongin nodded at him, standing on the other side of Felix and putting a hand on his shoulder. He had dropped the glare but disapproval was coming off of him in waves. Chan understood the feeling.
Walking in, he took one look at you and took in a deep breathe. You were curled up on your side, clutching a pillow to your chest. Your breathing was even and every few seconds you'd let out a little snore that made him laugh. Chan put a hand on your cheek and you immediately nuzzled into it.
He teared up and took another breathe. "You are so talented," he started whispering. "You work so hard and try so hard in everything you do. Without you, we aren't Stray Kids. I am so so sorry I made you think something that wasn't true," he continued whispering, not wanting to wake you up but still wanting to get the words out.
But you were awake, having woken up but the sliver of light let in by the open door. You didn't open your eyes, afraid that you'd lose your courage the moment you looked at the person who was like your big brother.
"It hurt," you said quietly. Chan's voice caught in his throat and the pressure in his chest grew. "I know you were stressed and frustrated but it hurt. A lot."
"I know, y/n/n. I know, and I am so sorry. I never should have let my frustration hurt you like that," Chan choked out. He wanted to hug you but he held back. He leaned down, getting on his knees beside the bed so he could be at eye level with you. Your eyes were still closed but you could feel him looking at you, closer than before.
"I never meant to say it. I swear, fuck, I swear on everything that I am that I didn't mean those words for even a second." Chan was crying now, but he said every word as clear as he could. The thought that you thought of yourself as less-than deserving to be in the group and that you were hurting because of him made him feel like pulling his heart out. "This group wouldn't be compete without you. Every day I see you work I am so proud of the performer and the person you've become. I-" his voice caught again, and the tears came much harder. He turned his head away, wiping relentlessly under his eyes.
A few moments later he felt a hand on his arm. Looking over at you quickly, he saw you. Your eyes were open and tears were coming out at the same speed his was. Your lips were wobbling and when you opened your mouth to speak, the only thing that came out was a choked sob. Chan's own sob mirrored yours.
You jumped out of bed and crouched right next to Chan, hugging him tight. At your touch, Chan cried harder, pulling you close and holding a hand to your head.
"I didn't want to disappoint you but I-"
"There's no 'buts' y/n/n, you could never disappoint me. You did so well today and I was just too in my ass to see that," Chan said, holding you tighter.
"You really were an ass," you sobbed out, crying louder. "But I forgive you just please be patient with me."
"I will. I promise I will. I'll be patient and help you through whatever you need and we'll take breaks. And when it gets frustrating, we'll separate and come back after a few minutes and I promise to never, never, talk to you like that again."
The two of you stayed on the floor, crying and apologizing and making promises that you knew would be kept even when the sun rose.
Together
Felix had a real talent for baking. When the two of you emerged intact and together, they knew all was well. Felix was the first to break, giving you both a hug and punching Chan in the arm, holding back so it wouldn't hurt too much.
"We warmed up the cookies and brownies, and I added some sprinkle hearts on the cake," Felix said, walking back to the kitchen. You smiled, taking Chan's hand and following him.
"There's nothing late night sweets can't heal," Changbin said. Han just nodded along beside him, cheeks stuffed. You smiled, squishing one of his cheeks, unable to resist. He half-heartedly tried to bite your hand, making you laugh louder before sitting down next to him, putting a head on his shoulder. He responded in kind, putting his head on top of yours.
"Hey, is that a rat on the cake?" Han asked, trying to discern the shape Hyunjin drew. The artist in question gasped.
"Excuse you! A RAT?!? My cat is not a rat!"
"If you made Dori look like that I'd punch you," Minho added.
"Hyung!" Hyunjin whined.
You giggled and tried getting up to get some cookies but Han pulled you back. "Nuh-uh, you're not moving anywhere," Han said, putting a cookie to your mouth. You rolled your eyes, but chewed, sitting back contently. Chan put a plate of cake and brownies in front of you, ruffling Han's hair, earning him a bite too.
The next hour was filled with stories from the week, laughing until people started falling off chairs, and good food. When the night started catching up to you, you looked at the time and saw it was 4am. Everyone was laughing at a joke Changbin and Seungmin were telling and you smiled.
My members, you thought again, feeling warm inside.
You went off to your room, laying in your bed, letting the laughs lull you to wonderful dreams, but it wasn't long until suddenly Hyunjin yelled, "Where's y/n!" and suddenly you could hear eight pairs of feet running to your room. They rushed in, looking at you in bed, and you were smiling tiredly.
"I'm sorry, I was just tired," you said softly. Changbin cooed at you, coming over and flopping on top of you. You grunted, feeling squished, but it wasn't too bad.
Until the seven others followed, piling on top of you one by one. You sqeaked, surprised by the sudden added weight of eight guys. Everyone was moving around, trying to find a way to get comfortable until finally, they all settled down. Hums of contentment and happy sighs were heard all around.
Knowing it would be useless to fight it, you just relaxed and closed your eyes. And with your members wrapped around you like a warm blanket sleep and sweet dreams came easy.
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Thank you so much to everyone who has read this little series and showed it love. Every comment was so sweet and I am genuinely so thankful for everyone who read this! I hope you liked the finale as well! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. And as always, have a great morning, afternoon, evening, and night!
-Jini
Taglist: @armystay89 @lauraliisa @changbinisabigboy @lusimpss @laylasbunbunny @neyangi @hibs8 @lovelmh @viagiraffe @briqnne @unfwairs @silentreadersthings @strawberry31 @emily505 @beomgyu-stan-present
Divider made by: @cafekitsune
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roesworks · 9 months ago
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my marauder's sex headcannons
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james, sirius, and remus x female reader
WORD COUNT : 723
i wanna feed you guys (after literally a year) so enjoy my personal headcannons
james potter -
he is a certified switch. he leans more on the dominant side, but sometimes he just has a need to be told what to do.
when you're on top, without a doubt he is calling you mommy. not to mention, he will whine. he's always whining.
plus he will NEVER SHUT UP.
HE WILL ALWAYS PRAISE YOU.
"you're doing so good f'me, my love."
and he will never hit you or degrade you. he thinks that's just plain mean.
sex should be fun. he does it often so that he can skip out of doing cardio. killing two birds with one stone.
on the aspect of cardio, though, james can last a long time. he could go the entire night if he really wanted to.
"please just one more. one more, i promise."
he's a big guy, so you already KNOW that dick is at LEAST nine inches.
"it won't fit-" "-i'll make it fit."
HE LOVES THE STOMACH BULGE
fucking under the cloak.
while he doesn't like to hit you, he is most definitely leaving accidental bruises from gripping you so hard.
he'd rather grip your arm than the mattress. he loves feeling you.
he's probably the loudest moaner in the entire wizarding world.
he enjoys moaning your name so much that if you didn't cast a silencing charm then everyone in hogwarts would hear him.
he loves your boobs. whether they're big or small, he is most definitely sucking them and leaving them polka dotted by the end of the night.
and literally every night he's with you. sex or not. he's latching his lips onto your nipples and sucking the life out of them like they're lollipops.
he is without a doubt an experimentalist.
like whenever he finds a new position or just a new kinky idea, he's going to bring it up to you.
most of the time, you enjoy it. other times, it's just a one time thing.
he tells you he loves you all the time. it's all part of his 'never-shuts-up' persona.
sirius black -
dom. without a doubt.
"who's pussy is this?" "yours."
he likes making you cry. tears of pleasure are his favorite.
degradation is never out of the question.
and "my little slut."
while that is the case, he will, 'talk you through it' if you will.
"finish for me, baby."
100% getting off to you screaming his name.
he's definitely an ass guy. he likes groping it and hitting it whenever he gets the chance.
he's a little on the smaller side, but he definitely makes up for it in width.
he is very. VERY. loud.
he can last a SOLID three or four rounds.
ngl, he looooves bondage.
lets be real, he keeps a black rope in his nightstand.
he will most DEFINITELY tease you with his wand.
or he'll LITERALLY stick it up there.
honestly, he just likes to tease you in general.
pussy checks in public ALLLL THE TIME.
sometimes if you're wet enough, he will just do it with you on the spot.
"wet already, baby?"
he wants everyone to know that you're his, so he takes measures by leaving hickeys all over you, especially in noticeable places.
LOVES seeing you ride him.
he is 100% stealing james' cloak and doing it with you under it.
remus lupin -
a switch, but much more on the submissive side. so basically a sub.
he will literally get off on getting told what to do. and frankly he prefers being a pillow princess.
he definitely starts off quiet, like a whimper here and there,
and then as he gets more and more comfortable with you, (like around your third time) his whimpers become louder and louder.
he is a SOLID seven inches.
he will do some pretty kinky stuff with you.
like experimenting with candle wax. because he was curious, obviously.
and this guy has a huge thing for period sex. not that you mind it, it helps you forget about your cramps.
the rare times that he's on top, he is the sweetest ever.
"you feel so good."
you've done it in the library a few several times... in the restricted section. nobody has to know that, though.
he loves how you taste and will always tell you that.
your boobs are one of his most favorite things about you.
bite bite bite
and he loves touching you.
anywhere he can get his hands on you he will caress you.
he doesn't really last more than three rounds, but,
there were definitely days where he was so into it that he just couldn't stop.
he loves receiving pleasure and praise soso much.
he's just a sweet boy.
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